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mypoisonedvine · 1 year

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𝐠𝐨𝐧𝐧𝐚 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐚𝐭 || (kinda)dark!javier peña x reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 || he's your dad's best friend, he's a narc, he's the guy you've been calling 'tio' most of your life... so he's not the guy you want to run into when you're out partying a little too hard.

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 || 6.5k

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 || dubcon smut (18+ only; oral f receiving, unprotected sex, reader is under the influence and under duress), age gap (not specified but it's big lol but they are of course both adults), dad's best friend trope, pseudo incest (reader calls javi tio/uncle but they are not related), drug use, jealousy, unprotected sex, orgasm control, rough/aggressive sex, we're talking complete total and permanent gut rearrangement, crying during sex (from overstimulation not like, being sad), hair pulling, 'sir' kink (briefly), creampie, basically just a kinky filthy mess idk what else to say

The bass was so loud you could feel it in every part of you— like your own heartbeat, but everywhere. The throbbing music, the heat, the sweat; it was an overwhelming experience, even before you took the pill… but now, it was transcendent.

Everything was lit up in electric colors, neon pink and green blending together into some impossible color you couldn’t describe; the dancers around you had their arms raised in the air, jumping and swaying with the music, and it reminded you of the waves in the Caribbean Sea— you know, the ones you never had time to go see even though you lived just a few miles from the beach.

Frankly, you didn’t have time for this either: you should be studying for midterms, but the stress of college was becoming overwhelming and you were reaching a breaking point.

Or, maybe you already had, considering this was your coping method. It wasn’t your usual approach, but you hadn’t needed anything this drastic before. Maybe it was because you weren’t just escaping from the stress of school, but from the tension at home with your parents.

Perhaps what was most frustrating about that situation was that you were pretty sure they didn’t even realize how badly they were driving you insane… especially your dad. He didn’t see any problem with the fact that he tried to control every aspect of your life, regardless of your age. You could appreciate them not wanting you to do anything dangerous or harmful— you could even understand the whole ‘my house, my rules’ thing to an extent— but it went too goddamn far every day. You couldn’t go anywhere else without being questioned, yet you couldn’t exist at home without being criticized.

That was why you were here, and here, you weren’t being critiqued or belittled or micromanaged— actually, you were very… well-received, to put it lightly. You’d caught more than a few glances this evening, and now you were getting more than that: they were dancing with you, pressing against you… touching you.

It should’ve felt wrong, but you’d been craving approval of any kind, and the lascivious looks up and down from the guy in the indigo silk shirt felt like a compliment when you had a couple drinks in you.

A hand covered in gold rings groped your ass, and you hummed through a wide smile. He spoke into your ear, but even so close you couldn’t hear anything— it didn’t matter, anyways; you nodded, dazed. You figured the pill was enhancing, if not creating, whatever connection you felt with this stranger, but you didn’t care. You didn’t care how risky it was to go home with him, either, you just needed to feel tonight.

The voice in your ear mumbled something about how sexy you are, and you were about to melt into the arms of whoever it was— but then you heard another voice, just behind you. This voice was familiar; this voice spoke your name, and you turned around sharply.

"Tio!" you gasped as Javier glared down at you; you'd never felt so small in your life. He could do that so easily, but usually by giving you a big bear hug or calling you niña; this was a less pleasant method. “I— what are you—?”

“Work,” he answered shortly, yelling just to be heard. “You shouldn’t be here.”

No, you shouldn’t be anywhere that Javi was working, but you especially shouldn’t be here— a nightclub, known for wild hook-ups and party drugs. Dancing with guys. Wearing a dress you picked out specifically because you liked the way it showed off your… everything.

“What would your daddy think if he saw you like this?” he growled, grabbing you by the arm, and you whimpered but gave in to him— no point arguing, or denying anything, now.

He dragged you through the club, out the back where you could talk without the music drowning everything out. It was still loud until the metal door shut on its own behind you— and even still, you could hear the thumping of the bass, catch a few notes of the melody here and there, but you weren’t really focused on that with Javi giving you the glare of a lifetime.

“Never thought you were that kinda girl,” he frowned.

“I swear, I don’t usually do this, I just… I…”

“You what?” he snapped.

“Sorry, I…” you trailed off again. “Kinda out of it right now, and you’re so… that light’s really bright…” you complained as you squinted at the streetlight behind him.

He grabbed your face suddenly, forcing you to look up at him; you couldn’t believe how he could basically hold your entire face— and control your entire body— with one hand. He used his thumb and pointer finger to hold one of your eyes open wider; you winced and tried to move away, but he managed to get a decent enough look anyways.

“Are you fucking high?” he realized with a snarl.

“I— just one pill,” you whimpered.

“What was it?”

“I… I don’t know for sure…”

“Jesus,” he sneered, dropping your face and crossing his arms. He looked away from you, shaking his head, then put his hands on his hips in that disapproving way he did so well. “What were you thinking?”

“I’m sorry,” you mumbled, “I just never get to do anything fun— don’t you need to be wild sometimes, do something a little misguided?”

“A little misguided— taking drugs from strangers, from men, letting them… touch you like that…” he shuddered as he said the last part.

You gulped, looking down at the ground. You were kind of hoping he hadn’t seen that, somehow…

Grabbing you by the arm again, he all but threw you in his truck; shrinking in the seat, feeling quite shy despite how you’d been acting just a few minutes ago, you watched him walk around the back in the mirror so he could get in the driver’s side.

There was silence as he started the truck and put an arm around your seat to back out of the alley, silence as he started to drive, silence as you went back and forth between looking over at him sheepishly and staring down at your hands in your lap.

But when you looked out the window at the passing scenery, you narrowed your eyes. "You're…not taking me home?" you realized.

"And give your dad a fuckin' heart attack, you coming home at this hour— dressed like that?"

Your heart sank with guilt.

"No, I'll figure out what to do with you later,” he decided. “I'm guessing you snuck out?"

"I… told him I was staying with a friend…"

"Then he must not be expecting you until morning. You can stay at my place."

"Thank you, Tio, I swear I don't usually do this, thank you so much—"

"Hey. I didn't say I wasn't gonna tell him the truth when I bring you back tomorrow."

You swallowed, glancing out the window as your eyes stung.

He sighed as he shut the door, and you sheepishly crossed one arm over your stomach to hold your elbow.

Last time you were in his apartment, it was for some dinner… thing… anyways, your parents were there, as were a bunch of other people they worked with, and you were sure the whole thing would be incredibly fucking boring. It was, for a while, until Javi broke away from the others to talk to you— and he made you laugh, he spared you all the dumb questions about how college was going and talked to you about real stuff: music, dreams, life. You always felt like you could talk to him about the things you could never talk to your parents about…

But you didn’t want to talk to him about this. Especially not when he put his hands on his hips and gave you that stern glare.

“What the hell did you think you were doin’ in a place like that—?” he began but you interrupted with a sigh.

“I’m sorry— I just needed a- a release! You know?” you tried to justify.

He scoffed, rolling his eyes before he glanced away from you; you, meanwhile, looked down with shame. You never expected to feel so guilty for this— if anything, part of you had fantasized about your dad finding out just so you could tell him off in the argument, explain to him that it was his overbearing nature that drove you to something so risque. Of course, now that the likelihood of that argument actually occurring had skyrocketed, it didn’t sound so appealing. “Your dad’s gonna have a cow,” Javi warned you.

“I know! I know,” you groaned, hiding your face in your hands for a second. “But I’m an adult! I should be able to do what I want!”

He scoffed a bit, and you frowned defensively. He obviously resented those times you referred to yourself as an adult— even if he couldn’t deny it, he always acted like it didn’t really count. You weren’t a ‘real adult’ yet in his eyes, still being in college and a bit starry-eyed according to some, and that always bothered you. It’s not that you thought you really had it all figured it out at this age, it’s just that you wanted more respect and more acknowledgement of your efforts.

The look on Javi’s face made you pretty confident you wouldn’t be getting much of that tonight. "Just don't tell him, okay? Please, Tio…"

"I won't tell your old man what you're up to," he promised, and you sighed. "But you need to."

"I— I can't," you whimpered, "he'll lose his shit! You know how protective he is…"

"Clearly he's got a good reason!" Javi snapped, and you spun around— you couldn't look at him now, not after he saw you like that.

"He's gonna kill me," you whimpered, defeated.

He stepped up behind you, wrapping one arm over your chest and holding your shoulder. “S’gonna be okay, sweetie…” he mumbled to you. “He’s not gonna kill you— he loves you."

"But he thinks I'm still a little kid," you explained with a pout.

"He can't help that," Javi laughed softly, kissing the side of your head. "You're grown up now, but you're still his little girl…"

You smiled a bit. "You really think I'm grown up?" you asked weakly.

"Yeah," he assured, "not sure how it happened, but you are— still young, of course."

You laughed a bit, relaxing in his embrace, soothed by the familiar smell of his aftershave and his strong hand rubbing your shoulder. Without either of you saying anything, the air somehow shifted… perhaps because of the way he moved his head, and you could tell that he was looking down at you. Perhaps because he let out a long sigh through his nose that fanned over the top of your head.

His voice was as low as a whisper when he spoke again. "Can't believe how grown up you look dressed like that…"

The fingers of his free hand traced over your thigh, even starting to move inwards, and out of both nervousness and ticklishness you clamped your legs together.

"Aww, don't be shy now," he pouted. "You'll be a whore for all those guys but you're playing innocent with me? Don't even try it, baby, I know what you want…"

You sighed out a long, shaky breath as you relaxed your legs so he could reach between them. It didn't really feel real, especially when you shut your eyes— then it could be anyone touching you.

"I know what this sweet little body needs," he continued, almost whispering as he spoke in your ear, making it impossible to forget it was Javi behind you. "Those little boys can't take care of you… need a real man to treat you right."

"Tio," you gasped as one finger just barely brushed over your panties, "d-don't—"

"Don't what, sweetie?"

"Don't… touch me like that," you breathed. "It's wrong…"

"But you like it so much," he noticed with a smile right beside your ear. "You like the way Uncle Javi is touching you— you like all this attention from your Tio, huh?"

Too afraid to respond to that, you shut your eyes tight as you felt him rub you through your panties more firmly, pulling up the bottom of your dress enough to expose the white cotton covering you.

“Still a good girl underneath your slutty outfit,” he smirked.

“What— what are you do—?” you began to breathe out, until he ran the blunt edge of his fingernail over the seam of your lips through the fabric— when he traced over your clit, your whole body jolted.

“Oh, babygirl,” he cooed, “you know what I’m doing. Say it.”

“You’re… touching me…” you panted out, rocking your hips as he began to rub slow circles against your panties— each with more pressure than the last.

“Where?” he prompted, his voice rough and echoing against the curve of your neck, which he began to kiss passionately a moment later just to make it that much harder for you to speak.

“My… fuck, my pussy!” you managed to get out, and he groaned with pride as his teeth brushed against your pulse.

He suddenly let you go and spun you around, pressing you to the wall and then pressing himself to you in turn. The hard bulge against your hip made your walls throb, but his face made your heart drop— you couldn’t forget it was him, and it felt so fucked up knowing he had just done that to you. You opened your mouth to tell him this couldn’t happen, that it had already gone too far, that you needed to somehow forget this ever happened.

But no words came out; they couldn’t, when he delicately lifted your chin so you had to stare right at the darkness in his eyes.

He moved closer, closer, until instinct forced your hands to jump up to his chest— god his chest, it was so firm and tanned and you swore you could feel the heat of his skin through his shirt— and stopped him from kissing you. “What’s the matter?” he asked softly.

What kind of dumbass question was that?! What’s the matter? Your Tio Javi, your dad’s best friend since forever, the guy who bought you your first bike and taught you how to whistle— that guy, calling you a whore and kissing your neck and touching you down there?! God, you knew you were messed up over this because you were mentally referring to your equipment as down there, like you were a little kid again.

But by god, you were not a little kid. Clearly, he knew that better than you thought he did. But you couldn’t believe this was really happening— it felt like a dream, but too terribly real.

What’s the matter, he asks, like you couldn’t spend all night listing everything wrong about this. You only gave him one reason aloud, though: “My dad will kill me.”

He smirked, a short laugh coming more out of his nose than his mouth. “Only if he finds out,” he replied. “Are you gonna tell on me, niña?”

Though very little, you shook your head.

“Are you gonna tell him that I brought you here and touched you like that?” he continued, voice lower and rougher, fingers dancing over your hip again. “Are you gonna tell your daddy how you got on your knees for me, let me fuck you like a whore, creamed on my cock over… and over…”

You shuddered as he left the softest trail of kisses up your neck.

“...and screamed my name until you lost your voice?”

"Fuck," you sighed, melting into his arms as he held you at your waist— his hands were so big that you felt especially delicate when he held you. "Javi, we… we shouldn't…"

"But you want to so bad, sweetie," he noticed with a fake pout. "You're a half-second from begging me to teach you how grown-ups fuck, I can tell."

Your thighs clenched together and he smirked.

"Just kiss me," he encouraged softly, lifting your chin with his fingers. "Just kiss me, baby, and I'll show you. I'll give you whatever you want."

You hesitated, looking up at his warm brown eyes, admiring his face and lingering over his lips… they did look perfectly kissable…

Shutting your eyes, you leaned forward and kissed him; instantly, he turned it from an innocent peck to a hungry gnashing of lips and teeth, his tongue dominating your mouth and muffling your moans.

His hands ran all over you and he started to guide you to walk with him— he turned you both and walked backwards down the hallway, dragging you until you toppled into his bed together.

"Lay back, baby," he instructed as he climbed over you, "your Tio's gonna make you feel so fucking good, sweetie… gonna fuck you like you need, I promise."

He sat up, almost making you want to chase for more of that kiss, but he reached up under your dress and pulled your soaked panties down your legs.

"Oh my god, look at this cute little pussy," he purred, spreading your lips apart and tracing up the seam of your cunt to find your bud. He traced it gently with his thumb— even the softest, slowest circles over it made you shiver and whine. "Sensitive, too. Poor baby, need me that bad?"

He crouched down lower, and you whimpered with anticipation. "Javi…" you mumbled nervously.

Before he even put his mouth on you, he leaned in close and took a deep breath through his nose. "Smells fuckin' perfect," he grunted, and you moaned just because he said that. "Can't wait to taste you, niña, been waiting too long…"

You wanted to ask if he'd been waiting longer than just tonight, but you were distracted by the wet, sloppy kiss he gave you, right on your aching clit. Instantly your back arched and your mouth fell open into a silent scream.

He was painfully, infuriatingly good at this— like second nature, he just looked up at you and watched while his tongue traced your clit exactly how you needed. You could just tell he did this all the time, that he had made his fair share of women scream and sob and beg with that tongue; you writhed and whimpered, shutting your eyes tight so you wouldn't have to see him looking up at you anymore.

He devoured you with wide, hungry licks, his mouth overwhelming you and his nose poking at the apex of your mound. You could feel his long sigh fan over your sensitive skin when he kept his mouth wide open, lapping at you desperately; you’d never seen him this… lacking in composure. This animalistic. It made you feel hot all over.

Maybe the only thing more embarrassing than how quickly you barrelled towards your peak was how easily he recognized it.

"Wanna come, baby?"

He only broke away from you just long enough to groan it out, and then he was right back to making you squirm and sob. "Yes, fuck, please!"

"Beg," he ordered, muffled by your clit in his mouth, eating away at you mercilessly.

"Fuck, Javi— please make me come with your— with your tongue, I— I've never come from that before, fuck it feels really good… please…"

He hummed around you, suckling harder at your throbbing bud.

"Oh— f-fuck, I wanna— please," you choked, "I'm so close…"

You felt him smile, and then you felt him do this thing with his tongue that made your thighs quiver around his head.

"Please, can I?" you whimpered.

He pulled away, but you could still feel his breath fanning over you and it made your walls tense up. "I like you asking for permission," he praised, "do it again."

"Please let me come," you groaned, arching your back when he latched onto you again. "I'm so close, just don't stop, please don't fucking stop—"

He didn't, which you took as permission— not that it really mattered since it was inevitable now with or without his blessing— and you shut your eyes tight as the electric feeling danced all over your body. Your eyes fluttered shut, and you only caught one more glimpse of him staring up at you with a scalding heat in his eyes.

Instantly it became too much, the sensations his tongue delivered to your clit painfully forcing your whole body to spasm. Gasping, you grabbed at his hair and sputtered out: “Stop, stopstopstop—”

He broke away and dropped your hips back down onto the bed, his smile glistening with your come. An instant later he sat up to start opening his belt, that grin turning suddenly into a snarl. You looked up at him with wide eyes, still trying to catch your breath, dizzy even as you just laid there watching him lick your wetness off his lips. “Need to fuck you,” he said, simple as that.

You still couldn’t really believe this was happening; the effects of the pill were mostly faded, but this felt like some bizarre dream anyways. Seeing him like this was just beyond surreal.

“Flip over— hands and knees,” he instructed firmly while he unbuttoned his jeans. You wanted to remind him that this was insanely wrong, that you thought of him like family and thought he saw you the same way— but then you remembered that what you’d done tonight was wrong too, and that he was your only hope of getting away with it and avoiding being locked in your room for the rest of your life.

"Shouldn't you… shouldn't we use a condom?" you suggested softly, and he smirked a little.

"We don't need that," he assured.

Doing as you were told, though it took some effort on shaky legs, you stared down at Javi’s bed under you— you’d seen it before, even slept in it before (though when that happened, he always took the couch), but it felt incredibly different now.

Speaking of things that felt incredibly different: getting fucked by your tio. He held your hips and pushed his cock into you, and you whimpered loudly as the stretch challenged you right from the start. You heard a soft moan from behind you, a needier sound than you expected from him, but it was drowned out quickly by your own cry as he buried himself in you completely. “Mm,” he hummed, fingers digging deeper into the plush of your ass as he stayed still for just a moment. “That’s good…”

Shivering, even though you were hot enough to sweat, you hid your face with a quiet whine right as he started to thrust— with a lot less patience than you expected.

"You're not embarrassed, are you?" he wondered, petting the back of your head as if trying to coax you out of the pillows. "Actin' all shy… what have you got to be shy about? Getting fucked on all fours like a slut, the fuck you acting innocent for now?"

"Please just slow down—" you gasped, reaching back behind yourself to try to grab his thigh.

"Hell fucking no, this is what you wanted," he groaned.

Whining, tears stung your eyes and you just tried to hold onto the bunches of his sheets in your fists.

"Wanted me for a while, didn't you? Dressing up all sexy when I came over for dinner, showing off how much you've grown… didn't even wear a bra, I could see your tits getting hard, wondered if it was because you were turned on. Turned on by your Tio…"

You weren't blind, you knew Javier was attractive, and you knew he did well with women— but you honest to God never thought about him like that. He was just your Tio Javi.

And now he was pushing you down between your shoulder blades to shove your face into the bed. Whimpering, you gave in, but the angle forced his cock even deeper and made you arch your back up with a yelp. "Shh shh, no baby, need to take it all," he scolded you softly as he pushed your back down. "Need to keep that ass up for me— show Tio that ass, good girl…"

It was hard to stay like this when it meant letting his cock hit way too deep— it hurt, and you sobbed with every thrust. "Please, s'too much, I need a break—"

"A break? We just started," he laughed. "You can get a break after I come, but you're gonna be in this bed all night showin' me why I should keep your secret."

"God, you're just so deep," you whined, "it hurts…"

"Yeah, but it feels good too, doesn't it?"

Even though you somehow felt guilty, you nodded.

"Yeah," he encouraged again, "you like getting fucked like this, baby. Never had your whole pussy used? Never had a cock this deep?"

So deep that it shot up your spine and made the back of your eyes burn? No, you'd never felt this before; you sobbed with pleasure, already totally overwhelmed.

He grunted as he increased his pace, already picking up speed each time his hips collided with yours; the bed was creaking a bit, too.

"Fuck," you gasped, toes curling. His cock’s fat head was pressing into something so painfully deep inside you, and just as much as it made you want to beg him to give you a little mercy, it made you feel like screaming for more and praying this could never end.

You heard him grunt as he fucked you even faster; he must have heard you sniffling, in turn, tears falling from your eyes near-silently as the pleasure overwhelmed your body. "What are you crying for? Never had a big dick like this, huh?" he chuckled. "Then just say so."

"I never… I-I've never had a… a dick this big before…"

"Mm," he hummed with approval, grabbing a handful of your ass and tilting his head so he could get a better view of his cock plunging into your hole. "Never been stretched out like this? That's too bad, I can tell you fuckin' needed it. Went out tonight cause you needed some dick, huh? Well you got more than you bargained for, honey, it's too much for this little pussy isn't it?"

"Yes!" you sobbed.

"Can't take all this?"

"Yes, Tio, please—"

"Don't tell me to slow down again," he warned. “I know what you need, sweetie.”

He grabbed you by your hair and forced your head back. "Ow!" you yelped instinctively. "Fuck, Javi!"

"Act like a slut and you're gonna get fucked like one," he reminded you, a frustrated sigh falling from his mouth. His pace quickened once more, thrusts coming faster until the sound of his hips and thighs smacking against your ass filled the room.

"I'm sorry," you choked, "I'm sorry, okay?"

"For what?"

"D-doing drugs," you listed, "going to clubs— acting like a s-slut…"

"Fuck," he grunted, "it's okay, baby, I'm gonna— god— gonna make it all better… gonna teach you how to be my good girl, okay?”

You whimpered as you nodded. “Please…”

Another tug on your hair made you whine and arch your back, letting yourself go a bit more limp in his grip as each thrust rocked your body. “First,” he began, “you need some discipline.”

The hand on your hip let go to give you a sudden spank on your ass; you yelped and jolted, the pain somehow only adding to your pleasure a second after the initial sting had faded.

“Your daddy never gave you enough of that— discipline,” Javi chuckled, “I warned him he was gonna spoil you. Guess I was right, look at you now?”

He smacked your ass again, hard enough that you cried loudly— probably loud enough for the neighbors to hear. That thought made your face burn with embarrassment. Anyone who shared a wall with Javi had probably heard his bed partners before, heard women screaming his name— why did that thought make you feel sick and sad and empty?

Of course, you were anything but empty, you were full to the brim and it felt like he might split you in half each time he pressed his hips to yours. “Once you get some discipline,” he continued, “you need to start doin’ what you’re told.”

“Y-yes, sir,” you choked out. You almost screamed when the hand that had been holding your hip slipped down to search between your legs; he grunted a bit as he roughly found your clit and rubbed it in fast circles.

“Then you need to learn some manners,” he continued, “like sayin’ thank you when I touch this pretty pussy for you.”

“Thank you,” you blurted out, your voice hoarse and wobbly— even weaker than you felt. Your hips were instinctively trying to buck away, running from the amount of raw sensation forced upon you, but you were trapped by the strength of his arm.

All at once it all changed: he slowed his pace, though he went just as deep if not deeper with each movement; he leaned down and pressed his chest to your bare and sweaty back, putting his lips against your ear; he kept touching your clit, but the circles were slower, smoother… sweeter. “S’that better, sweetie?” he whispered roughly. “Is that how you need it?”

Biting your quivering lip, you nodded; you fought another wave of tears that burned at the back of your eyes, but you were less embarrassed to cry now than you thought you would be. You’d cried in front of Javi before, plenty of times— skinned knees, dumb boyfriends, failed tests, he’d been around for plenty of that. Obviously, this was much more vulnerable than anything that had come before, and yet it felt bizarrely natural… he pulled out this side of you so easily, a side you didn’t even know existed.

“Such a good girl,” he cooed at you gently, kissing the curve of your jaw, and you finally stopped trying to stop yourself from shaking (it wasn’t working anyways). “So good for me…”

Everything was so blurry now, you barely even noticed him guiding you to lay down and roll over: you just noticed him pulling out, and pouted a little as if you actually thought he might just stop completely for no reason.

Noticing your displeasure, he smirked proudly. "Just wanna see that pretty face, sweetie," he soothed. But when he pushed back in, the new position made everything feel new— and, somehow, even more perfect.

"Fuck, Javi, s'really deep…" you mumbled, though it was deep in a different way than before— not as painful, yet even more mind-numbing.

"Uh huh?" he taunted. "Never had somebody fuck you right, baby?”

You shook your head. You had no idea it could be like this— you thought it was normal not to come, for the guy to jackhammer for a few minutes and leave. You didn't even know you could make noises like this…

"Say it again," he encouraged with a moan, watching your face intently.

"It's really… really deep…" you breathed, legs shaking as he held your hips down and tried to get even deeper; he started to grind up against you to force every last millimeter inside, roughly rubbing his pubic bone on your sore clit.

You squealed, barely able to take all this sensation, and he flared his nostrils. "What's really deep?"

"Your cock," you clarified.

"Whose cock?" he taunted.

"Yours, Javi, fuck! Stop asking me questions when I can barely fucking think!" you whined, and he laughed as he returned to his original motions.

“Just one more,” he promised. “Gonna come for me, niña?”

“Yes, yes,” you admitted through a choked sob.

He leaned down, blanketing his body over yours. "Call me Tio when I make you come," he whispered his demand in your ear, and you shuddered.

Each thrust was faster than the last, harder too, and you sobbed as heavy pulses of pleasure took control of your body. "I'm so close, I'm so fucking close," you panted, unable to speak above a whisper.

"I know, I know," he soothed, kissing your face with more tenderness than you expected or felt you deserved.

"I— please—"

"Shh, you're doing so good…"

It all collapsed at once. "I'm— fuck, I'm coming! Tio, I'm coming!"

He growled and latched his lips onto your neck, fucking you through it; your pussy pulsed in an erratic pattern, a new slickness coating him and running down your thighs. You would've been self-conscious about staining his bed if you had any room in your brain for it— but you couldn't think about anything, you even forgot to breathe for a couple seconds. "Good girl," he groaned, "coming nice and hard for me. Good fucking girl."

Suddenly, your arms wrapped around his shoulders— his broad, heavy shoulders, barely damp with sweat— and your shaking fingers dug into his skin. You hugged him tightly, maybe to keep yourself grounded as convulsions rocked through you, maybe for a little comfort through such an excruciatingly ecstatic sort of feeling.

When it all seemed to gather right in your gut, it finally slowed down and you went all but limp under him— though your arms stayed draped over his neck.

"Fuck, Javi," you moaned lowly, his thrusts faster and less even as he looked down at you with an exhausted smile of his own.

"Fuck, I wanted to make you come again," he admitted, "but I can't last much longer— you're too fuckin' tight, baby, little pussy's too fuckin' good, gonna make me come…"

"Please," you whined, partially out of submission and acceptance of your desire to make him come, partially out of excitement for a chance to breathe after he finished.

"Gonna come inside you," he warned suddenly, and you gasped.

"Wait, pull out," you pleaded, a small bit of your sanity coming back as the height of your pleasure had passed, "come on my face o-or something…"

He grinned when you said that, and you sort of regretted it. "That's cute," he decided, "but I wanna fill this pussy— see you nice and stuffed with my come— and I know you want that too, baby…"

You whined, hating how right he was, but you panted as you tried not to let the pleasure completely override your logical reasoning. "But I'm not— I don't—"

"I'll get you a pill in the morning," he promised, his voice rough and needy as he fucked you even faster— he hissed in his breaths through his teeth, almost snarling at you. "Fuck, I'm so close— tell me who owns this pussy now, princess."

"Yours, Javi, it's yours," you sobbed, hating how true that really was. "Yours to fill— you can come inside me, Tio, nobody's ever…"

You didn't even finish the thought, and he moaned as his grip on your hip tightened. He seemed pleased by the fact that you'd never been creampied before, even more excited to empty himself into you. "Beg," he ordered.

"I— I want you to come," you blurted out, not really sure what you were doing and struggling to put a thought together anyways. "Please, I want… want it inside—"

"Fuck, fuckfuckfuck," he rushed, and a moment later he stopped as deep as he could go, letting you feel every pulse as he filled you.

You gasped, almost wanting to squirm away out of instinct and try to stop him from filling you, but he held you down and kept you helpless.

"God, yes," he moaned in a breath, grunting as he started to grind his hips on yours to get himself that slightest fraction of an inch deeper.

He let his weight relax onto you and though it made it tricky to breathe, you just accepted it, finally shutting your exhausted eyes.

You were probably more than half of the way to sleep when he brought you back to reality by carefully rolling off of you; you winced as he pulled out, first from the soreness and then from the gush of sticky heat you felt coming out a moment later…

Javi stayed on his side, propped up on one bent elbow, and looked down at what you could only assume was a completely gaping pussy— and all his come leaking out.

He swiped two fingers through the mess he'd made, letting them linger on your throbbing clit until your hips jolted away; smiling, he brought the fingers to his lips and tasted his own come from your hole. "Fuck, Javi," you sighed, taken aback by the erotic, sudden gesture.

"You wanna taste too, princess?" he smirked, moving his fingers back to your pussy— but this time he didn't just scoop up what was leaking out. No, he suddenly slid two fingers into your incredibly sore cunt, making you wince from the sting and watching your face carefully with a sigh.

When he pulled his fingers out, after twisting them around inside you for a moment, they were coated in both of you. His free hand held your chin and tilted your mouth how he wanted it, guiding you to take both his fingers onto your tongue.

"Lick it off— good girl, like that…"

His praise made your exhausted walls clench just one more time.

"Taste how good we are together, baby?" he cooed. "You did so good for me… I haven't come like that in a long time."

I haven't come like that ever, you wanted to reply, but your mouth was full. When his fingers were cleaned off, he laid down beside you and wrapped you up in his arms. The strangeness of it hit you again: you, him, naked in bed… you still couldn't quite believe it was real.

"How much sleep do you need before you can go again?"

You widened your eyes and looked at him, amazed to see that he clearly wasn't joking. "Again? Javi, I'm gonna be sore for weeks already—"

"You're young, you can bounce right back," he promised, "I bet in a couple hours your pussy's gonna be even tighter than it was when we started."

You bit your lip. "I guess I can— I mean, maybe one more time, if you let me sleep a little first…"

He smiled and kissed your head, making you sigh and hide your face in his neck. He smelled the same, that's what was so weird— he smelled like he always had, the same aftershave as you remembered from all those years ago, and now you were naked and sore and used. "Okay, sweetie, get some sleep," he offered. "I'll wake you up when I'm ready to give you another load— I bet you're gonna like the way I wake you up, too."

As he chuckled lowly, kissing your neck right by your ear, you shut your eyes and tried to ignore how bizarre this was so you could rest.

His fingers gently tickled your thigh, tracing random shapes that left goosebumps behind, and whispered praises in your ear to lull you to sleep. "That's my good girl," his low, gentle voice blended in with the growing darkness of slumber.

Even mostly asleep and exhausted like you'd never been before, you got the sense that being his good girl was on ordeal that lasted more than just one night. In fact, you hoped it did.

#javier pena x reader #javier pena smut #javier pena x you #javier pena dark fic #dark!javier pena x reader #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal smut #narcos fic #narcos fanfiction

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sameschmidtdiffname · 4 months

Text

Easy Money

Derek Danforth x AFAB!Reader

Summery: Minimum wage is a joke these days and we've all gotta make rent somehow. And who knew blonds could be so fun?

Tags: AFAB/Female pronouns reader, no use of y/n, voyeurism, sex worker!Reader, drug use (marijuana), sex while high, drinking, cursing, bisexual Reader, fetish party, reader plays with several people, tempature play/improper use of ice cubes, sex toys, possessive!Derek, dick piercing (I will not debate this,) face fucking, breast play, oral sex (male recieving), thigh riding, cock warming, cowgirl and doggy position, praising, pet names, edging, rough sex, spanking, vaginal fingering, degradation, dumbification if you squint, dacrophillia. There is no plot. This is just porn. Straight up.

Notes: Y'all begged to me, now y'all begging to your man. You're welcome. Also, please consume substances responsibly. Do NOT assume an edible ain't shit. They ALWAYS are.

•°○《▪︎☆▪︎》○°•

The gig is simple. Stand there and look pretty.

The woman who had hired all of us was very clear on the rules; serve drinks, talk to the men, don't have a brain, and if Derek Danforth gives you an ounce of attention, you return it. Sex was optional, but they pay less if you do not engage.

I was just there for the check. Times are hard, but this dress is easy to fit into... if I don't breathe. Jesus, it's tight.

The architecture of the mansion is beautiful. Really, if I wasn't working this party I'd be studying every room for an hour each. High ceilings, detailed woodwork. It's a shame it's all bathed in purple blacklights with everyone wearing neon glowsticks.

The people in attendance are in various states of undress. Some wear their clothes fully, some wear nothing at all. Most are in various states of undress, including the waitresses.

All of our dresses are the same- tight, black, and an easily detachable top with nipple pasties underneath in the shape of blacklight activated glow stars. It's tacky, but the girls who have removed their tops are getting way more tips. And with the debt I'm in, plus the security making absolute sure no camera are recording anything, what's the harm in if I join them? It's more money for me.

The various trays contain different things. Some drinks or shots, others different foods. Then there's the drugs. Oh yes. Cocaine, pills, capped needles on at least one tray I noticed. On mine are several marijuana joints, blunts and even edibles. Our employer had told us we were allowed to indulge, but any damages caused due to our inebriation would come out of our check.

Edibles usually aren't shit for me, so I feel quite safe.

A strawberry cube is tucked safely under my tongue, taking a long while to melt. I can feel my muscles relaxing, making me smile more to the guests as I work my way through the crowd. The beginning gentle buzz helps me to forget the way these people leer at me, some even reaching over to touch me before retracting their hands quickly.

"These guests are quite used to casual sex," the woman had informed us. "There's a code here. You'll each have a pendant around your neck. Depending on the color you choose it will inform them of your preference. Red is for looking only, green means you're okay with sexual touch. It's up to your verbal communication if that touch leads to penetration."

The party was tacky, but at least consent was key.

My color currently is red. It will take more of this edible for anything to change. And currently I see no one making the trouble worth it, anyways.

Right now, anyways.

A man with bright, blond tipped hair and a loud outfit works his way through the crowd. Laughing and speaking with some, taking in the different women serving different items. There's a confident swagger in his walk, one that normally I would scoff at when sober. But with the melting cube quickly joining my bloodstream, I simply stare curiously. It's unintentional, honestly. But he takes notice, narrowing his eyes in reciprocated curiosity before making his way over.

"You're new," he says. I offer him the tray.

"I don't know what you mean," I say politely. He picks up a large blunt, taking out his own lighter instead of using one of the complementary ones on the tray. He takes a long pull, shoving the item back into his snakeskin jacket pocket that doesn't match his zebra print, silk looking button up with black leather pants.

"The other girls have been working here for awhile. Who brought you here?" He asks after taking a long pull, holding it.

"Riley," I answer. He nods, exhaling.

"She's worked here a couple years. You two close?" He asks.

Not particularly. "We're friends," I answer. He smiles a bit, taking another hit.

"You like the party?" He asks.

"I like the lighting," I answer. "And I can't say no to free edibles."

"You take some?" He asks. In answer I scoop the edible onto my tongue and stick it out for him to see. "Good girl, that shit will make you relaxed."

"How much is it?" I ask curiously. Can't be too much, surely.

"Told my guys to pick up 1000mgs," he answers, taking another hit.

... what?

My confusion must be obvious.

"You not used to that?" He chuckles, leaning against the wall next to me.

"I induldge regularly, just... lower amounts," I answer. He exhales, laughing.

"You'll have fun then. Especially if you change your color to green, but that's completely up to you," he says. There's a moment of silence between us before I speak up.

"Nice outfit," I say. He raises a brow at me.

"Yeah?" He asks, scanning me up and down. "I think I prefer yours."

"It matches better, that's for sure," I say. He laughs, then sticks out his hand, his smile confident.

"I'm Derek, by the way."

"Ah," I say. Derek.

Derek!

"Nice to meet you, Mister Danforth," I say, accepting his hand. It's warm and large, strong against mine.

"I don't want to hear Mister out of you unless you change colors, pretty girl," he says, squeezing my hand. I feel myself smiling, heart fluttering a little.

"And what would happen if I did change it, Mister?" I ask politely. His grin widens.

"Well, with the way you look already I'd say people would have a fun time with you," he says, stepping closer. "I wouldn't mind a taste myself. I like my girls warmed up, though."

"Warmed up?" I ask, raising my brow.

"I'll tell you what," he says. "You're welcome to leave your tray anywhere, as I'm sure they've told you. You can change your color to green, enjoy your edible and just let the crowd guide you to me. I promise they will." His eyes roam over me, taking me in with a hungry gaze, his mind distracted by obvious thoughts. I wonder how well his shoulders would hold me.

Shit. He's right, this is strong. The herbal smell on his breath is inviting, and I'm already leaning in. Plus, his outfit is beginning to make visually stimulating sense.

"Isn't it polite for a host to show his guest around?" I ask, batting my lashes. I can feel my eyes drying out, my cheeks buzzing and my body beginning to feel the bass of the music just a little bit more than I was a second ago.

"It is, pretty girl," Derek says, taking another hit. "But you're not a guest, are you?"

No, I'm not. I begin to pull away when his hand catches my pendant.

"You want me to get that for you?" He asks, exhaling through his nose.

"Yes sir," I answer with a smile, placing my tray carefully on the table beside me.

"Good girl," he praises, changing the color with a quick flick of his thumb. "You'll fit in just fine."

Before I can respond, his lips attach to my neck, sucking earnestly and harshly. I can't help the small cry that escapes me, my hand finding his hair and burying itself in it as he pins me against the wall.

His hand cups my breast, kneeding it carefully as he creates patterns across my skin with his mouth, licking at the newly bruised flesh before moving on to a new, unmarked area. He holds his blunt up for me, trying to keep it still enough to allow me to take a hit. I accept, holding his hand steady by the wrist, inhaling as much as I can.

His lips detach from my throat, his eyes red and glazed over as his lips graze mine.

"Care to share?" He asks lowly, his fingers still tweaking at my nipple. I'm vaguely aware that my pasties have been removed, where they've gone to I've no clue.

Obediently, I blow the smoke into Derek's mouth, his hand leaving my breast to cup my jaw, holding my mouth open with his large thumb. Once I'm done he takes his own hit, holding it for a moment before pressing his lips against mine, sealing them together before blowing the smoke into my mouth as well. His tongue slides against mine, tasting of whiskey and smoke. I don't hate the way it blends with the sweet, surgery strawberry cube still melting under my tongue.

He pulls away slightly, breathing heavily.

"You taste sweet," he says. "Mind if I try some?"

"Go ahead," I answer. I expect him to take an edible from the tray, but instead he leans in again, his tongue searching for the half melted candy. He finds it under my tongue, slipping it onto his and then pulling away, smiling in satisfaction.

"Oh," I breathe, batting my lashes in surprise.

"I'll trade you," he says, pressing a small kiss to my cheek as he passes the blunt to me. "Just let the crowd lead you, sweet girl. I'll see you in a bit."

Before I can even think of a response, he slips amongst the crowd, gone in the blink of a hazy eye.

Alright. This is fine. Great, actually. I take a hit of the sour tasting blunt and begin walking amongst the crowd.

Derek was right, I am an eye catcher. Or maybe these people aren't particularly picky. But it doesn't take long at all before people are touching me, sliding their hands over my hips as I pass by, stopping me for a moment to press me against their bodies, leaving a mark or three on my skin. The attention makes my mind blank, smiles on my lips as I whisper 'thank you's, the patrons slipping tips into the tight pockets of my skirt as they release me, letting me blend into the crowd once more until someone else catches me.

I should be revolted, I know this. But the people aren't hard to look at, and with as much as I have flowing through my system all I can really think about is how amazing I feel. My joints feel like air is passing straight through them, my head feels light and free of racing thoughts. The lights entrance me, making me easily distractable until a woman guides me gently towards her group, placing me on her lap as she talks with what I'm guessing are work colleagues. Or something. Fuck if I care.

Her hand strokes my back carefully, not speaking to me as I continue hitting my almost burnt out blunt. She glances at me from time to time, smiling sweetly as she watches me.

"Can I have some?" The older woman asks gently. Her lips are painted a dark black, revealing white teeth underneath. Her features are sharp, contoured by heavy makeup. Her hair is shaggy and black, and God, she's... broad. Muscular and looking like she could eat me alive. I wouldn't mind if she tried.

I hand her the last little bit, letting her have what remains as I begin to focus on her hair. It's soft, feeling amazing between my fingers.

"You have anywhere you need to be for the rest of the night?" She asks, her voice deep.

"Derek," I breathe, barely focusing. She and the other women amongst her let out a noise of recognition, some even laughing a little.

"He likes his girls pent up," Another says, nodding. "Says he likes them used, but we all know that's not true."

"Derek likes to go for hours," warns a woman with blue hair that glows in the blacklight. "Hope you have a lot of energy saved up. If he likes you, you won't go home for days."

The woman with black hair is finishing the blunt, flicking away the last little bit and letting it land wherever.

"You mind if we help you?" She asks.

"No," I answer, my hands running over her broad, leather covered shoulders. "I don't mind."

The women aw over me, moving closer and touching different parts of me.

"Focus on my thigh, good girl," says the dark haired one. "Just rock yourself against it and let me know when you're close." She turns to the second woman, nodding her head towards me. "You want to taste her?"

The second woman nods, joining me on her lap and grinding herself against the first woman's other thigh before bending over to wrap her lips around my nipple, moaning as she does.

The third woman, the one with blue hair, simply watches, continuing to talk to the dark haired woman, stroking my back as she does. The first woman seems engaged in the conversation, occasionally sucking on my other breast before responding to the blue haired woman. The second woman is fully engrossed in tasting me, sucking and nipping at my breast eagerly, moaning as she does.

The stimulation feels amazing, my head tilted back as I rock on the dark haired woman's thigh, my body feeling things it never has before. The feeling of two women sliding their tongues across my sensitive nipples, sucking on them at the same time at different paces is almost enough on its own to make me cum. I can feel how wet I am even through my underwear, surely staining the first woman's clothes.

"Shit, Ava. She may not make it to Derek at this point," laughs the blue haired woman. The first woman, Ava, simply smiles, admiring me.

"Should we let you cum, good girl? Or do you want Derek?" She asks, bouncing her leg as she does.

I moan loudly, my mind unable to form a response. This is lovely, just absolutely wonderful. But something tells me that if I waited, if I edged myself like Derek seemed to prefer, then I would be well rewarded.

"Wait," I pant, still rocking my hips against her thigh. The three women groan, laughing a little more as they begin to give me space.

"You think she's good enough for him?" Ava asks the second woman.

"If she's not, he's out of his mind," she says, tearing herself away from my breast and standing to move onto the blue haired woman's lap instead.

Ava guides me off of her before standing tall and admittedly terrifying. She pulls me up gently, taking my hand and leading me through the room. "Follow me, sweet girl," she says. "I'll take you to the main event."

The other two women wave at me, smiling wickedly before turning their focus onto each other. As the drugs begin to hit harder, just a little ways from my peak, I begin to wonder what it is I've really gotten myself into.

A pair of double doors reveal the same dyed blond man on a plush couch, lounging lazily as he speaks to a small group of people in the private lounge. Upon seeing me guided into the room, he smiles eagerly, quickly sitting up.

"I told you you'd find me," he says, setting his whiskey glass in front of him on the small, glass table.

I smile warmly at him, trying to keep my balance as I walk around to him.

"You get her all ready for me, Ava?" He asks, gently placing his hands on my hips and guiding me to sit on his lap, my back pressed against his chest.

"I did," the woman says, joining us. "She's pretty pent up."

"Did she get you pent up, pretty girl?" Derek asks, laughing softly. I can feel the blush in my cheeks, my eyes barely able to stay open as I lean my head back onto his shoulder.

"Feel her if you don't believe me," Ava offers. Derek obliges, dipping his hand between my thighs, pushing my thin panties to the side.

"Fuck," he groans. "You weren't kidding."

Derek guides my legs to spread open, one hand keeping me open for everyone to watch as his other hand explores my vulva.

"Don't worry about everyone else," he whispers in my ear. "We're all just here for a good time. Right, pretty girl?"

I nod, moaning as his finger swirls around my clit. He continues speaking to his friends, drinking casually as his hand toys with me.

"You want some?" He asks, offering me the glass. I shake my head. I'm fucked up enough.

"Water?" He asks. At that I nod, and with the quick snap of his fingers it only takes a blink before he's holding a water in front of me, complete with ice cubes inside.

"Go ahead," he says. "Take a drink."

I obediently lean forward, placing my bottom lip on the edge as Derek tips the water into my mouth. It's soothing at first, my body relishing the cold rush it gives me. Derek's hand glides up and down my folds, teasing my entrance.

"You like the cold?" Derek asks. I try to respond, forgetting the glass in front of me. The water spills down onto my body, freezing and making me cry out in shock at the sudden sensation.

Derek and his friends laugh, his lips pressing soothing kisses along my shoulder blade.

"I'm sorry, were you not ready for that?" He asks sweetly, smiling at me. I shake my head. He places the glass on the table in front of us, collecting a couple of ice cubes before leaning back and adjusting me to face him.

"Let's get you prepped then, yeah?" He asks, popping one into his mouth and chewing.

My eyes widen, mouth opening in question just before Derek wraps his own lips around my nipples, sucking gently and swirling the quickly chewed cube around the hard bud.

"Fuck!" I cry, leaning backwards. Ava catches me, stroking my hair as she watches.

"I knew he'd like you," Ava says in my ear. "He likes breaking in the new girls personally."

Derek's fingers tease my entrance, threatening to dip in while he sucks on my breast, moaning around the cold flesh. He swirls his spit around, rubbing my clit with his thumb.

"You taste amazing," he moans, his breath cold. "Love to taste more."

I moan happily, spreading my legs more and bucking against his hand.

"Take me," I moan. "Do whatever you want."

"Jesus, she's excited," he laughs. "How long has it been, sweet girl?"

Too long. Much too long.

It must be obvious based on the way he trails lower, kissing and sucking on my skin as he begins to slip my skirt and underwear off of my lower body.

"Is this okay?" He asks, looking up at me expectantly. I nod eagerly, rolling my hips towards him impatiently.

"I don't think she likes teasing, Derek," Ava comments.

"No?" He laughs. "Do you like teasing, sweet girl?"

I shake my head slightly, whining. He and Ava laugh, Derek placing a kiss on my stomach.

"Well, I don't want to go too fast, new girl," he says. "Could break you, you know."

"No you won't," I whine. Derek sucks sharply on the spot, leaving a dark mark.

"Gonna have to teach her a thing or two, aren't I, Ava?" He asks. "You know where that toy is?"

"What toy?" I ask.

"Don't you worry about a thing, pretty girl," Derek instructs. "I'm gonna take care of everything for you now. Just relax."

Ava removes herself from the couch, disappearing to look for something. As I'm distracted, Derek slips an ice cube into my warm cunt.

"Ah!" I cry out sharply, arching my back as my hips roll automatically, unsure what to do to relieve myself. "It's cold."

Derek simply laughs, sitting up straight and dragging me onto his thick thigh.

"It's supposed to be," he says mockingly. "That'll work in the meantime while we wait for Ava to come back."

I start to grind against his thigh, my cunt clenching around the cold cube rapidly as I feel the melting water begin to drip out of me. Derek pulls my hair, tutting his tongue against his teeth as he shakes his head.

"Stay still, that's an order," he says sharply. Someone offers him a cigarette, which he takes with no hesitation. When someone offers me one as well, he waves them away.

"She's had enough," he says. He keeps his hand in my hair, keeping a close eye on me to make sure I don't move.

"You enjoying the party?" He asks me.

"Yes," I say.

"Yes what?" He asks, taking a drag.

"Yes, sir?" I say. He smiles.

"Good. You're smart." He turns his attention to a man asking about some account, rambling something about bitcoin and such. Ugh. I don't know why I'm surprised.

I keep my hands clasped behind my back, pressing my chest forward to allow him easy access. This pleases him, his smile growing genuine whenever he glances my way. Once he bounces his leg, making me squirm for more. At that, he pulls my hair, shaming me for breaking the rule.

"Behave," he commands sharply. A few minutes later, however, he bounces his leg again. This time he doesn't stop.

The jolting motion sends shockwaves through my system, the drugs making me weak and stupid. He's not watching me, seeming involved in the conversation, and this ice cube is nearly melted inside of my cunt, dripping more and more. I can't handle this.

I shift my hips subtly, testing the waters. He doesn't notice, and if he does he doesn't care. I do it again, slightly harder against his thigh. Derek is talking about some party in Havana, laughing about a different conquest. I work slowly, making sure he won't turn his eye onto me. Finally, after a few minutes of grinding against him, I feel confident enough to begin a slow, steady rhythm against his thigh, his leg still bouncing against me.

My body feels amazing. Light, stimulation pounding throughout me, it only takes a few minutes before I'm on edge again, my pussy making his thigh slick and easy to grind against as I ride him. My cheeks burn with heat, my eyes eyes fluttering shut as I lose myself in the rhythm, fully focused on how hard his leg is bouncing. The vibrations go right to my clit, making my pussy seize around nothing now as my pulsing heat had caused the cube to disappear. I begin to grind faster and faster, desperate to cum. I don't realize I've begun panting, moaning as I ride him, and the attention in the room has turned towards me in full with Derek rubbing his hand up and down my back slowly, grazing his nails across the skin of my back as he watches with a look that makes him look like the cat who ate the canary.

"You close, sweet girl?" He asks me. My blush deepens, my eyes fluttering open in realization. Derek simply quirks a brow at me, exhaling his smoke into my face as he waits for my answer. My hips stutter, hesitating to continue.

"Don't get shy," Derek scolds. "You were just fine fucking yourself a moment ago. What's a few dozen people watching you?" He asks.

People are chuckling now, making small comments of encouragement.

"You looked so pretty, baby. Fucking yourself stupid on my thigh," he says as his lips tease my tits. "Didn't she look pretty, everyone?" He asks the room, glancing around at the people who respond with affirmations.

I lean forward, trying to hide my face in the crook of his neck. What had I been doing? In front of this entire room? I'd just needed a few quick bucks, that's all this was supposed to be. This was exponentially further than I'd ever planned.

Derek tuts, pulling me away from my hiding place. "Oh no, you wanted to cum. I'm going to make sure you cum," he chides. "I wonder how you'd feel on my cock. Would you like that? You'd feel better if you were on my cock, wouldn't you?"

I nod shyly, my eyes avoiding everyone but Derek. He glances around the room once more, noises of encouragement growing louder.

"You wanna get me ready, baby?" He asks encouragingly, taking one of my hands from behind my back and guiding it to his stiff, clothed cock.

I gasp lightly, squeezing it and grazing my thumb up and down his dick covered by the tight, leather material.

"You look big," I mutter.

"Feel big too," he chuckles. "Go on, try it out. I think you'll like it."

I think I will.

It's hard to see in the odd lighting, so my hands struggle with the hidden zipper.

"Try getting closer," Derek teases, his breath warm against my ear. "It doesn't bite like I do." To emphasize his point, he sinks his teeth into my neck, harsh and quick before releasing me, leaning back in his chair. The sudden movement makes me dizzy, my mind reeling as I automatically sink to my knees in front of the plush, velvet sofa.

Once his pants are opened, he springs out, no underwear confining him. Jesus. He's mostly average, leaning towards the larger side. It's mostly the piercing that surprises me.

"Like it?" He asks. I glance up at him, his grin cocky as he takes a drag from his new cigarette. Hey, man. What happens if I swallow this?

I stammer, opening my mouth and trying to say something.

"You need help?" He asks, wrapping his hand decorated with several rings around his shaft. "Open your mouth again," he commands. I do so without hesitation. His other hand guides my head down, forcing me to swallow it halfway down. I moan in satisfaction, my eyes slowly shutting as I take in the taste of his skin.

"Atta girl. Take a minute if you need to," he says casually. I can smell the thick smoke near my head, his hand stroking my hair gently. Ava must have returned because he's telling someone how warm my mouth is.

"You ready, sweetheart?" He asks. "Wanna show you off for my friends."

Taking a deep breath and opening my eyes once more, I lower myself slowly to his base. He's just long enough that when his piercing collides with my uvula I cough, nearly choking on him. More gentle laughter escapes the crowd, Derek praising me as he begins to thrust into my mouth.

"Just stay there, sweetheart," he says. "I'll do the work."

True to his word, Derek begins pumping his dick in and out of my mouth, whispering something in Ava's ear. I begin taking in the other people around the room, most of them watching us eagerly.

"Watch me, sweetheart," he commands, snapping his fingers and pointing at himself. "You don't have anywhere to look but here."

I obey, keeping my eyes trained on him as he smokes his cigarette which rests between his lips, his jaw gritted as he rolls his hips into my throat, his eyes glazed over in pleasure and who knows what else.

Without warning, someone begins fingering my cunt. A startled moan escapes me, vibrating around Derek's throbbing cock and making him moan, his face confident.

"Don't worry baby, it's just Ava," he says, stroking my hair. "You like Ava, right?"

I moan again, Ava's fingers quick and shallow in my tight pussy.

"Ava certainly likes you. Almost stole you from me, isn't that right?" He asks her, tapping his cherry carelessly onto the floor behind him.

"That's right," her deep voice purrs in my ear. I moan again, my eyes almost fluttering shut from pleasure until Derek grabs my hair, fucking my face roughly to bring my attention back to him.

"Hey now, don't get too happy," he scolds, but he's smiling. "You still like me more, right baby?"

I moan, pressing my tongue to his underside as he slides in and out. He tastes sweet, his jewelry creating an interesting feeling in the back of my throat. Ava withdraws her fingers, quickly replacing them with a vibrating bullet instead.

"Mmph!" I moan, my eyes nearly fluttering shut again. The speed increases, making me drip and writhe my hips against nothing.

"God, she's fun," Derek moans. "Ava, book her for Cabo," he says.

Cabo??

"You like her that much?" Ava laughs. Derek simply glares at her. Is this a thing? Trading girls, fighting over them? What is this?

"Just fucking talk to whoever about it," he spits, his dick quickening in my throat. I'm gagging around him, barely able to catch my breath as I press my hands desperately against his thighs. "Anyone else fuck her tonight?"

"Don't know," Ava shrugs. She brings her face close to mine, her breath hot in my ear. "Did they?"

I moan, trying to shake my head. Derek nods, smiling.

"Perfect," he drawls. The bullet inside of me is driving me insane, enough to keep me on the edge of pleasure but not enough to tip me over. My eyes look up at him, wide and begging, tears beginning to spill from my waterline and streaming down my face.

"You're killing her," Ava scolds him. "Is he being mean?" She asks me. Yes.

"She can take it," Derek says. "You like it a little mean, don't you baby?" He asks, smiling. Yes.

"See?" Derek says. "She's just fine."

Actually, I'm about to hit my peak drug wise, and I can't fucking breathe. But all it does is make me want more, my throat taking him as deep as I can as I moan around him, my tongue moving desperately, eager to swallow his load.

"Think I should cum down her throat?" He asks Ava, his head tilted back in pleasure, cigarette nearly burnt out between his lips.

"Would you like that?" Ava asks, setting the speed of the bullet to max. I scream around Derek's cock, overstimulated and stupid. "I think that's a yes."

"God, you're amazing," he praises. "Such a perfect fucking slut."

Right before he reaches his edge, he pulls me away, admiring the long, thick string of spit that still connects my swollen lips to his cock.

"Look at that," he says. "Should take a picture of that someday."

His hand drags me up by my hair, guiding me to return to his lap. Once I'm straddled across his lap, his fingers delve into my cunt, fucking me quickly as he presses the bullet against my g-spot.

"You like my cock, pretty girl?" He asks.

"Yes," I moan, my voice and throat raw.

"Yes what?"

"Yes, sir."

"Excellent."

His fingers remove the bullet, and he quickly replaces his hand and bullet with his pulsing cock, both of us moaning at the feeling.

"Jesus, fuck," he moans. "You are fucking tight. I can feel everything."

My cunt spasms around him, eager for whatever friction he'll grant me. He stays still, something that's clearly a challenge for him.

"Gonna stay there for awhile," he says. "Wanna make sure you're ready, baby."

My spit on his dick makes for excellent lube, his piercing comfortable against my cervix. His hands run up and down my thighs, squeezing here and there, eventually moving to massage my ass.

"The crowd loves you," he praises, pulling me close to his chest. "Think I love you too."

I'm very high. I'm very horny. I will do whatever this fried hair, cocky ass motherfucker tells me to do.

A waitress walks behind the couch, offering us a tray of joints. Isn't that my job?

"Go ahead, take one," Derek instructs me. I do so, reaching for the lighter on the tray.

"Don't bother, I have one in my pocket. Thank you," he says to the waitress, dismissing her. He reaches into his coat, taking out the lighter before discarding the jacket, leaving him in his zebra printed button up that shows off his chest hair along with a white gold sparkling chain.

He holds the lighter for me, lighting up the joint as I hold it between my lips.

"You're gonna smoke me out, okay angel?" He says, leaning back against the couch, his arms stretched out along the back. I rest one hand against his chest, taking a hit and holding it for a second before leaning forward and blowing it into his mouth.

One of his hands find my hair, pressing my lips against his, his cock twitching inside of me as his tongue slips into my mouth, establishing dominance before allowing me to pull away for another hit. Then another. Then another.

As he inhales the last hit, his hips begin rolling into mine, his voice low as he groans.

"Go on and start riding me, angel," he moans, completely lost in the pleasure. "Show me how you want me."

My hands grasp his shoulders, clinging desperately as I begin to glide up and down his length, his cock twitching against my most sensitive spots with each glide.

"You ever fuck a pussy as good as this?" I ask, watching his jaw shift subtly from side to side as he focuses on my tightness.

"Oh, she speaks now?" He asks, smirking. "Grow a fucken brain, princess?"

His tip slams into my cervix, making me gasp and press my tits into his face. His mouth works quickly, biting and sucking at the tender mounds as I ride him.

"I'm just making conversation," I say. I'm high enough my filter is gone, my brain rotted to the point I'm only focused on my pleasure. He moans against my tit, looking up at me while he buries himself in my body.

"I can't say I have," he says, grinning. "Why, that turn you on?"

Immensely. Not that I'd tell him that.

"Say it," he dares, his cock slamming into me. "Don't hold out on me."

"Maybe I will," I tease, tugging his hair. My hips speed up, riding him hard enough I can feel the couch rocking ever so slightly.

"You're fun," he chuckles. "Say it."

"No," I say, slamming my wet cunt against his base, making him groan loudly.

His teeth sink into my skin, pulling on my nipple to the point I'm on the razors edge of pain and pleasure.

"I don't mind waiting," he says, his tongue flicking against my nipples. "I like causing pain."

His teeth sink in deeper, his fingernails dragging down my back slowly as he slams into me, making me bounce hard enough I can feel it in my stomach.

This is a hell of a paycheck.

"I like it," I say. He chuckles.

"That's not enough," he says.

"I wanna be the best girl you've fucked," I add.

"Mm, need more details." His teeth release my nipple, leaning forward and quickly catching it once more, sucking on the almost raw flesh hard enough it feels like I won't be able to wear a shirt for the next day or two. One of his hands return to my hair, gripping it and pulling it hard enough I can see the people behind us, some of them still watching, some focused on each other, most people switching between the two as they fuck each other.

"Come on, you were just so confident," he laughs against me before returning to his task. My chest burns with want and embarrassment, my eyes glazing over as I give in.

"I wanna make you pussy whipped," I moan. "I wanna glance at something and get it from how desperate you are to get the chance to fuck me."

He chuckles lowly. "I think we'll get along for a while," he says in a satisfied tone, finally releasing my tits from his torture.

"Gonna get me on payroll?" I ask, smiling as I throw my leg onto the back on the couch, giving him better access to fuck me.

"Play your cards right and I'll get my surname on you, pretty girl."

It's an evening of drugs and sex, come morning I'm sure he won't even remember my eye color. But for tonight, can't a bitch dream?

"Go ahead and laugh," he dares. "I get what I want."

"And you want me?"

"Fuck yeah."

He forces me to my side, turning me onto my stomach and hiking my ankles onto his shoulders.

"Jesus!" I cry, feeling his cock bury into me from behind, slamming straight into an overwhelming spot that makes me blind with pleasure.

"Too much," I cry. "Fuck, too much!"

"And that's a problem?" He laughs, abusing me as he smacks my ass, admiring the way my skin reddens.

"Yeah, you're not getting another dick ever again," he decides, his hips chasing after a high that tears screams from my throat. I'm so overstimulated I don't even know if I can cum, my eyes crossed and ass feeling his palm bearing down on the sensitive flesh time and time again, growing more rapid in succession, forcing me to clench his length harder with each new hit.

"Come on, pretty girl," he growls, pressing his chest against my back, his hands keeping my hips pressed against him with no chance to escape. His balls smack against my clit, making me moan in stupidity. "I know you want to."

I cry out, tears streaming down my face, hair stuck to my wet skin as I feel my cunt begin to throb in warning, my stomach clenching as the knot inside me begins to snap, my mind growing fuzzy and static as I pant eagerly.

"Fuck, she's close," Derek moans to someone, small whimpers escaping him as he pumps into me, his teeth digging into my shoulder, sending me over the edge.

Someone's screaming, and I have the vague idea it may be me. I can feel Derek's front soaked in my cum, his dick slamming into me in a way that I just know I'll have a migraine in a few minutes.

"Good girl," he praises. "Fuck. Amazing girl. Taking good dick like a fucking pro."

His cock throbs in me as he cums, deep and right next to my cervix, keeping himself buried as his seed pumps into me, hot and thick.

"I wasn't joking, sweetheart," he mutters in my ear, his voice exhausted. "You and I are going to become good, good friends."

I groan as I feel him slip out, his fingers pushing any cum that drips from my folds back into me, then placing a plug into my aching cunt. His hand grips my hair, pulling me back up to sit on his lap as he accepts a new drink, his cheeks flushed as he tries to regain his breath.

"Let's get something to get your energy back up, hmm?" He asks, pressing a firm kiss on my sweaty forehead.

▪︎《•☆•》▪︎

Cabo doesn't sound all that bad, Danforth. Not bad at all.

Masterlist

I wrote this instead of sleeping. Anyways, see you next time for Mike Schmidt. Stay safe pookies <3

#josh hutcherson #josh hutcherson fanfic #derek danforth #derek danforth smut #derek danforth x reader #derek danforth beekeeper #the beekeeper #derek danforth x you #jhutch #josh hutcherson x reader

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wynnyfryd · 3 months

Text

Trailer park Steve AU part 52

part 1 | part 51 | ao3

cw: period-typical homophobia, canon-typical violence, blood

"I'm just saying!" Eddie laughs as he swings himself around the slender base of a young tree, cigarette dangling from his lips. "I could absolutely rock the blue eyeshadow look the main chick was wearing."

Steve doesn't disagree. They're in a dark alcove on the side of the movie theater, Eddie's hair all lit up from behind, a frizzy halo of pinks and blues from the neon radiating off the front of the building, and he looks fucking gorgeous, and he smells like menthol and strawberry shake, and he's been tapping Steve's wrist so much tonight that he might as well be drumming up a new song just for them.

"Can't argue with that," Steve murmurs as he steps up onto the concrete planter. Gets up in Eddie's space; borrows his cigarette, his words floating out on a thin wisp of smoke. "You look beautiful."

"Beautiful," Eddie mimics, tasting the word, looking unbelievably pleased with the flavor that he finds. His eyes go hooded, and there's a sly tilt to his mouth as his tongue slips out to tease the edge. "You tryin' to start somethin', Harrington?"

Steve's answering hum rumbles deep in his chest. His cock aches in his jeans. God, he wants him; wants to back him up a good ten feet until his body scrapes the bricks. Wants to rough him up a little, like Eddie did to him the first time they kissed — make his breath hitch and his skin buzz and his back arch under his touch.

"Oh, you are," Eddie purrs. He takes the cigarette back, their fingers brushing on the exchange, and they're standing so close now, nothing but this skinny tree between them, just a twig of a thing, really, the toes of their shoes touching on either side of the base.

Steve looks down at the snowy soil. Taps Eddie's wrist. Desperately. Frantically. Take me home right now, so help me—

A low whoop echoes off the pavement.

A predatory jeer, and Steve looks up to see three men approaching — three boys, about their age, and drunk, by the looks of it. He grits his teeth.

Their ringleader looks like a caricature; classic bad boy who thinks too highly of himself, some cheap knock-off mash up of Billy Hargrove and Rob Lowe. Steve eyes the shaggy mullet, the dangly earring skimming the lapel of his black jacket, the silver flask and the stupid swagger, and his blood runs hot. Thrums with the promise of a fight.

“Well shit, boys,” the guy grins to his sidekicks, taking a long swig and wiping his mouth. Gleeful malice in green eyes. Little asshole gets close enough for Steve to make out the color; gets right up in Steve’s face and sneers, “Looks like we got ourselves a couple of queers to smear.”

Really? Steve thinks. We’re doing playground games right now? He folds his arms over his chest, flattens his voice; disinterested. “Do you have somewhere else to be?”

Eddie smokes his cigarette, and the smoke curls around them in short, unsteady puffs.

The guy snarls, “Do you?”

Beside him, his friend’s hands ball up in fists. A vicious voice in Steve’s head whispers: plant your fucking feet.

“Nah,” Steve answers. He takes a step in front of Eddie; widens his stance, digs his heels into the mulch. Slight crouch; deep breath. “Think I’m right where I need to be.”

“Fuckin’ freak,” the guy spits at the ground. He sways and pivots just a little, like maybe he’s about to slither back off to wherever he came from. Or maybe he’s about to throw his full weight into a swing.

Eddie’s breath whistles. His nose still healing from the break. “Seriously, man,” he tries as he drops the cigarette, crushing the butt under his boot. His voice is thin; hands up; don’t shoot. “Just- just fuck off, alright? We don’t want any—”

The first punch is slow. Sloppy. Steve sees it coming and dips low to dodge, and the jab cracks against the tree, spraying ice and splintered bark, the sound sharp in his good ear. It’s a plate over his head; it’s Billy cackling while the world dims, and Steve sees fucking red. Tastes metal and acid and rot, and all his ghosts are with him; all of Eddie’s, too. Hargrove, and Andy, and Jason fucking Carver; all the faceless specters of whoever pummeled him that night at the bar, whoever dared to lay a finger on him when Steve wasn’t there to be a shield.

But he’s here now, and his answering punch lands hard — sickening crunch as his uppercut connects with the kid’s ribs, knocks the wind out of him. The guy grunts and doubles over, but he gets in a good swing on the way down.

Steve tastes blood at the edge of his lip.

Someone grabs him by the collar.

One of the guy’s friends, freezing fingers pawing at his shoulder, at his throat, and he pulls back hard until his shirt rips at the neckline and frees him from the hold. Ducks again to dodge a blow, swivels and pops discount Rob Lowe right under the chin.

The kid’s teeth clack together as he bites his own tongue. Steve watches his head fly back like it’s about to fall off — like a ragdoll, like a bobblehead, like it’s happening in slow motion. He collapses on the sidewalk and cracks his head against the bricks, and he's down, he's out, but there’s two more still coming, one in front and one on Steve's right, and that one looks tall and broad enough to do some real damage.

Steve squares his shoulders; braces himself for another concussion, because this is— fuck, is the guy on the ground bleeding?

This is bad.

This is really bad.

And then he hears it.

A familiar thwick, a metallic slice through the sudden stillness in the air as Eddie pulls his knife out of his boot and flicks it open.

"Back the fuck off!" he growls; lunges forward with the blade and stabs at empty air, the metal gleaming like an oath. His expression is wild, sweat on his lip and at his temples, bangs sticking to his brow.

Steve spits blood onto the concrete.

Everyone backs the fuck off.

—

"Holy shit," Eddie pants as they haul ass out of the lot. Fingers trembling on the steering wheel, knee jiggling so badly it jangles all his pins and chains. His whole body is shaking. The radio is off.

In the rearview, Steve gets a glimpse of their attackers dragging their limp friend by the armpits through a snowy flowerbed. He thinks he sees a streak of blood.

“Did you know them?” he asks, his eyes glued to the reflection.

Eddie rolls the next three stop signs.

“No,” he finally says. Swallows hard in the simmering quiet. “They were just some guys.”

—

part 53

tag list in separate reblogs under '#trailer park steve au taglist' if you'd like to filter that content. if you want to be added please comment and let me know (must be over 21; please either verify in the comment or have your age visible on your blog)

#trailer park steve au #steddie #steddie fic #steve harrington #eddie munson #my writing #my fic

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daisykihannie · 3 months

Text

A new kind of addiction (S.CB)

pairing: Dealer!Changbin x F!reader

warning: NSFW, coke, alcohol, drugs, addiction, degrading, sir kink, daddy kink, choking, spanking, etc. FITCHY NASTY DIRTY TOXIC BORDERLINE HATE FUCKING ROUGH MEAN PRIMAL AGGRESSIVE

The lights throughout your house were all red or purple, smoke filling the air making it seem that much darker and hazy than before. Sweaty bodies tangled together all around you as you took your place on your large L-shaped couch made of black leather. Your eyes raked over the area just watching everyone, nursing your own glass of whiskey, as the others got drunk, horny, and high. The fact that you were just sitting there bored, surrounded by so many strangers, made you quite antsy. You needed more entertainment and what's more fun than Cocaine?

You were about to click on your dealer, Vernon's contact but remembered he'd been gone for the past couple weeks and we're doing deals through his cousin Changbin, so instead you clicked on his contact and waited for him to answer. Yes, your house was loud but you've been making deals for long enough to know that you always speak in code and NEVER text to make a deal. That's basically instantly reserving your dealer a spot in prison.

These calls always felt similar to that of ordering take out. Not much small talk, getting to the point and getting off the phone, then waiting for the "delivery". Not that you minded, you're not the biggest fan of small talk anyways. You actually hate it a lot if you have to be entirely honest.

"Be there shortly." the male spoke his last goodbye, you swore you could hear the smirk plastered to his face. Just like usual, he immediately hanging up once the words left his mouth, not bothering to give you a chance to respond. You rolled your eyes at his usual cocky demeanour, putting your phone back into your pocket, waiting for him.

Normally when him or Vernon did deals with you while you were hosting a party, they'd stay for a few hours. Letting lose, having fun, and building up a clientele. They'd bring samples to give out and normally it'd turn out well for them and you A Win-win scenario for all of us.

It only took about 15 minutes of waiting before the front door swung open.Thus wasn't your first time meeting him but every single time you'd get lost checking him out. He had mostly black hair with chunky streaks in his bangs. The red and purple lights made it impossible to tell exactly what color they were but from being a regular customer these past couple of weeks, you knew they were neon green.

He wore a black compression shirt that hugged his pecks and biceps beautifully. You could see every edge of every muscle that adorned his torso, helping paint pictures of his body in your slightly perverted brain. He paired the shirt with light grey sweats, which you could see the slightest dick print in, even with the low lighting that cast a red blanket over the bodies that painted pictures of their list filled dances in your vision.

There was so much going on from the clouds of smoke, the red lights, and the tangled heap of bodies pressed against one another filling your vision but he stood out. He was all you could see and your body reacted before your alcohol filled brain could realize.

You were climbing off your couch for probably the first time all night, you stumbled your way through the crowd. Your eyes never left him, the usual tension between you two making you feel hypnotized by not only his stunning visuals but his energy as well. He radiated TOXIC BAD BOY as if it has sirens, alarms, and big bold lettering that wrapped his body in caution tape and that's what would always draw you to any and all men you've allowed to have even an ounce of your time and energy.

You were somehow still standing in your drunken haze and you were right in front of him now. "Hey Bin, I don't know if I missed you or the drugs more." your eyes continued to trace the outline of his entire form, from his intoxicating gaze down to his insanely muscular thighs that were hugged by the light grey fabric, then back up to his supple looking lips.

You both flirted with each other regularly, even ended up making out a good handful of times but the tension between the two of you continued to build and had been feeling pretty suffocating now. You felt like you were addicted to Changbin, he was a drug kept just at arms length from an addict in withdrawal. It was forbidden but it didn't make you want him any less.

"Well I know I certainly missed you." his lips forming that cocky smirk you knew oh so well, pulling you in. He was checking you out just as intensely, his eyes slowly tracing your figure in your tight fitting top, taking a bit longer when they got to your loose fitting joggers that sat low on your hips, your hip bones visible above the waistband.

You were tipsy for sure and could feel your morals slip, the lines you weren't supposed to cross with him becoming blurred, the desire and tension swirling in the pit of your stomach. His hands finding their home on your hips, his thumbs digging into the soft flesh like they always did. He knows exactly what made you weak in the knees and he was quick to use them to his advantage.

The danger and the cockiness was always something that would have you on your knees and he was definitely someone you'd get on your knees for. Everytime things between you two would get heated one of you would pull away, knowing that you shouldn't cross that line. He's your dealer and you're his customer, an addict, his business partner. You don't fuck business partners.

"Why don't we take this somewhere a bit more... private?" you couldn't help but purr the words into his ear, nibbling softly at the shell of his ear. This wasn't the first time this has happened but you still waited till you felt his grip tighten on your hip, pulling back to look at his face again and seeing a devilish smirk painted on his lips.

That was all you needed to grab his wrist, dragging him up the stairs to one of the 4 bedrooms there. Yours of course staying locked so no one could be fucking in your bed when they could use any of the other three. You had a finger print scanner as the lock on the door so there was no way anyone could steal the key and you couldn't lose it no matter how much you drank or how many drugs you took.

As soon as you led him into the room, you were pinned against the door, his grip on your hips tight enough to leave bruises as he pushed them into the door, hard. His lips were on yours in seconds as your lips fell into sync with his own. The kiss was lust filled and heavy, desperate even. It was making you dizzy but in the best possible way. This was how it always started.

The roughness was more than you'd ever hoped for, it was the perfect amount of roughness you always craved and it had you a whimpering and panting mess. Your back arching against the hard door, grabbing his neck to pull him as close as humanly possibly without being inside his skin. Your hips fought against his grip trying to grind against him, desperate for more of his touch.

He noticed and when you thought he was removing his hands to help you, he grabbed the back of your thighs, making you jump and wrap your legs around his muscular waist. Your lips not separating for even a second, no matter how breathless you felt, you couldn't get enough of his lips. How they tasted like cherries, how they were so soft against yours, how they danced together like they were made for one another. It was definitely addicting.

He spun you away from the door, leading you to your bed across the room, your back landing against the mattress with his body above yours. He held himself up with his thighs in order to grab your hands, connecting them above your head and locking them together in only one of his own. His other hand finding it's way to wrap around your throat, you knew what was coming next and it made you let out a moan against his lips.

You felt his lips turn into a smirk when you let out that moan and his grip tightened around your throat. He didn't cut off your air but he squeezed the sides making you dizzy. Your head rush made your eyes roll back and for the first time, he separated your lips. Your moans escaping freely and filling the room, your back arching hard off the mattress.

"P-Please... fuck-" you gasped as his grip stayed firm on your throat. You needed him, just like always, needed him in ways you could never have him. You've gotten used to the teasing and foreplay, the tension building, before he'd pull away way too soon for your liking. The words like a broken record as he told you that it was a mistake and you two shouldn't go further.

"Please what slut? huh? has that drug addict brain of yours stopped working? Has all the coke finally fried every last braincell or is it because of Sir pinning you to the bed like the cum dump you are?" his words were toxic, with venom laced through them but it just made you need him that much more. Yeah, maybe you needed therapy but this was so much more fulfilling than that could ever be. Toxic, borderline hate-fucking was so so much better.

"Please sir... please let me suck your cock~" you purred while maintaining eye contact with your drug dealer. You knew this is usual the moment when he leaves you a needy mess for him but you continued to do this to yourself. Anticipating the withdrawal but unable to keep from getting hooked again. The tiniest sliver of hope that maybe this time would be different made it that much harder to stay away.

He was once again detaching his body from yours, you couldn't help but whine in frustration as you knew what the next words out of his mouth would be. Almost like he'd been rehearsing his lines for years. The familiar feeling of his body heat leaving you and his burning touch gone, you felt like crying when the cold air replaced his touch on your skin.

"Beg for it like a good slut and maybe I'll let you." the words that you were hopeful to hear but never thought you would rang in your ears, eyes wide from shock. "W-what?" you had to be dreaming, no way he actually said that.

You watched carefully as he climbed off of you and sit on the bed next to your panting from. "Don't make me repeat myself babygirl. You heard me and don't act like you haven't been desperate to have me for weeks now." you both knew how badly you wanted each other and you weren't gonna give him the time to change his mind.

You knew how to beg and you knew exactly how to get anything you wanted with it. You have a history of always getting your way, except with Changbin apparently, so you'd of course work your own magic. Collecting your breath and got off the bed, you placed both of your hands on either of his thighs before sinking onto your knees between his man spread. Eyes level with the obvious bulge in his pants, the loose fabric of his sweats doing absolutely nothing to hide it.

You could tell he was big and he knew it by the way you licked your lips as your eyes resembled that of a starved animal staring at a fresh chunk of meat after being starved for weeks. Your eyes slowly grazed up his body, the lights in your room brighter than the red ones from the living room. You could see every curve, edge, ripple, and indent of his muscles now.

Finally eyes eyes met his expectant and impatient ones, his were thin and siren like so you gave him big, round, doe like eyes in return. The primal energy of a hunter watching his prey at his mercy filled the room, suffocating as if you two had hot boxed the room with lust and need.

"Sir~" you purred, dragging your palms higher to his inner thighs, his cock twitching in his pants in anticipation for your words. It only urged you on further to beg like you'd never begged before.

"Please please let me suck your cock? please let me taste your sweet cum while you cum down my throat? Fill me sir~ please?" And you did exactly that, begged like you were made for it, like you were begging for your life. Begging for him to ruin you and fuck your mouth dumb before doing the same to your drenched pussy.

The growl that erupted from his throat sounded animalistic and hungry. He clearly needed you just as badly as you needed him. He didn't responded and pulled the baggie of white powder out of his pocket before taking his sweats and boxers off together. The fabric pooling around his ankles right in front of your knees.

You sat watching his hands open the baggie with your kryptonite in it, curious but unmoving. You simply waited for his instructions as you watching his face light up like he just had the most brilliant idea.

"Open your mouth." he demanded and you obliged like the obedient toy you were for this man already. Your mouth open as far as possible knowing that your jaw was going to be so incredibly sore from the sheer size of his cock. It was not just huge in length but it was girthy too. It was sure to ruin you if you were dripping as much as you were right now. Your tongue rolled out of your mouth, the drool that was forming inside your mouth cascading down the length of your tongue and dripping off the end in long, messy, stings.

He placed his cock on your tongue and slipping the tip against the wet flesh a few times, before holding it in place. The weight of his cock heavy and twitching against your tongue waiting for his next instructions, keeping eye contact with him as the lewd sight plagued his vision. "Close your lips around the head but don't you dare move slut. Got it?" You nodded at his words and wrapped your wet and swollen lips around it, pressing your tongue flat against the slit leaking salty precum into your mouth.

He then took the baggie and tapped out a line of your favorite powder along the length of his cock. "Now, be a good girl and snort the entire line. Take my cock all the way into your throat and get your fix." he demanded and it truly was the hottest thing you'd ever heard anyone ever say, a whimper escaping your throat and sending vibrations straight to his head.

You proved yourself to be a good girl doing exactly what he said, covering one nostril and using one of your many rolled up dollar bills to snort the entire line in one go, letting the bill drop as your nose hit his pubes, swallowing around the head of his cock now buried down your throat. Another low groan fell from his lips as he watched you and you snorted hard to finish the line. Immediately seeing the stars you loved so much as the coke hit your brain, euphoria coursing through your body, all your nerves lighting on fire the way you love so much.

A groan left your through traveling through his cock as you looked up to him, hoping he'd let you finally suck the soul out of him now. "Go ahead pup. Make Daddy feel good." he finally allowed you to do what you love best, leaning back on his hands as you both kept eye contact. You hollowed out your cheeks and got to work, the moans, groans, and growls that filled the room just egged you on harder.

Soon enough, curses were leaving his lips as his cock twitched relentlessly inside your mouth, your own moans started mixing with his, desperate to have him filling your throat. He tangled his handing into your hair and started fucking your mouth with no mercy, your own hand going into the waistband of your joggers, fingers playing with your sensitive bundle of nerves, your gave never leaving his no matter how much your eyes watered as he abused your throat.

His thrust got sloppy and he groaned your name and stopped his movements, burying his cock down your throat as the warm white liquid shot down it. Your throat constricting around him as your swallowed ever last drop, successfully sucking his soul out of him. He took as second before pulling out of your mouth to catch his breath before giving you his next demand. "On your stomach. Now." his tone just as harsh as before and you obeyed, climbing on the bad and laying on your stomach, looking back at him.

You were watching and anticipating his next move, still fully dressed and needy and his cock was still rock hard and his tip angry. He climbed on the bed, roughly stripping off your joggers, smacking your now exposed ass hard. You whimpered at the mix of pain, need, and pleasure and he grabbed the baggy again, pouring out a line on the now red flesh of your ass, snorting his own line. As if you couldn't get any wetter, that definitely had you leaking more. It was way hotter than it should've been.

After he did his own line, we pulled off his shirt hastily before removing yours just as intensely. Ripping it slightly as he pulled it off, the ripping of the seams being heard through the room. Your hips wiggled teasingly, the flesh of your ass rippling and jiggling with your movements. He straddled your thighs, lifting your hips up slightly so your cheeks were pressing around his cock. He pushed his hips forward, then back again to tease you, kneeding the flesh a bit before spreading it apart to get a perfect view of your holes.

You were so wet that your thighs and your ass were soaked. The glistening caught Changbin's eyes before running his cock between your thighs, soaking his length in your arousal. He groaned at the euphoric feeling "Fuck- such a filthy whore. So wet just from sucking Daddy's cock?" He countiued passing his length through you wet folds, groaning deeply as your own desperate and needy moans and whispers fell from your lips.

"God, I'm gonna fucking ruin you till your addicted to my cock instead of the fucking coke." he growled and adjusted his hips to push into in one swift thrust. Bottoming out immediately as a scream ripped through your throat. The stretch burned but you felt so full that you were seeing stars and began clenching around him to adjust as quickly as possible.

Luckily he stayed still for you to catch up, the scream was pushing him to ruin you more but he wasn't evil, he knew he was huge and knew if he didn't let you adjust before wrecking your hole, you would be in too much pain to enjoy it. With as much tension and build up, he wanted it to be worth the wait. When he felt you trying to push back against him, he smirked knowing you needed more. "Awe~ does my pretty cum dump need more?" he asked but already knew the answer.

You slurred out helpless whines and pleases, begging for him again. He leaned forward putting his body flush against yours but not putting his full weight on you so that you could keep your hips were the were at the perfect angle to hit your weak spot. He took his left arm, wrapping it around your throat and putting you in a head lock, using his elbow to hold himself up and his left elbow pushing into the mattress next to your head to help hold him up as well.

After he got into the perfect position he started thrusting relentlessly into you. His hips slamming against your ass as the sounds of flesh against flesh filled the room. A symphony of your desperate moans filling Changbin's ears and the room, his grunts mixing in with yours as you started feeling dizzy as he used you while giving you a head rush from the headlock.

The pace he used was brutal, borderline hate sex, and it was so unbelievably hot. You weren't sure if it was the cocaine, the tension, the head rush, or the intense amount of pleasure coursing through you body but your skin was on fire. Every single nerve ending was ignited and that familiar knot started forming in your stomach. Your clit was throbbing from the stimulation of your thighs pushed together creating the most heavenly friction while your g-spot was abused continuously.

"Fuck- ohmygod- I'm cl- close FUCKFUCKFUCK" you were screaming at this point, convinced that everyone down stairs could hear you over the music and pounding bass that were vibrating the walls of your home.

"Shit- me too baby. Fuck! Be my good little cock slut and cum on Daddy's dick. Just like that- fuuuuuuck" He was grunting into your ear, his cock twitching inside you relentlessly and his thrust becoming sloppy as he got closer to his release.

You were clenching around him about to tumble over the edge into your own orgasm when you heard him grunt into your ear and his hips still. You could feel the white, hot ropes filling you to the brim, spilling out of you from around his cock. That was all it took to have you chasing your own high, cumming the hardest you ever have. Your pussy clenching around him as your body trembled. Squirting onto your sheets underneath you two.

Loud moans filling the room as he helped the both of your ride out the aftershocks of your orgasm. It felt like your body was vibrating and you both played there for a moment, sweaty and panting trying to calm down after everything. He let you out of the headlock to pull out of you, seeing his cum pouring out of your pussy clenching around nothing.

He fell onto the bed next to you and saw the wet puddle beneath you. "Did- did you squirt?" he asked with his usual cock smirk causing you to groan and roll your eyes. "Shut up." the embarrassment causing your face to heat up. It's funny how after all of that, this was what made you shy and embarrassed.

#skz imagines #skz #skz smut #skz x reader #stray kids #straykids smut #stray kids fanfic #changbin #changbin x reader #changbin smut #stray kids imagines #stray kids smut #skz x you #skz x y/n #changbin x you #changbin x y/n

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batnoise · 9 months

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[🦇 / july 2023 ] artfight 2023 attack for @snowkori !! 🎸✨

[ID: a digital drawing with rough linework from the waist up of an anthro zebra playing a guitar and an anthro lion singing into a microphone against a colorful background. they are both dressed in sparkling jackets with neon glamrock makeup on their faces. the zebra's jacket is pink and has blue, green and yellow makeup, and the lion's jacket is blue and his makeup is hot pink and orange. /end ID]

#batnoise art #furry #anthro #weirdfur #cleanfur #sketch #glamrock #neon art #eye strain -#a:bel #2023

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thisapplepielife · 5 months

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Written for the @steddiemicrofic January challenge.

Hole in Me

January Prompt: Hole | Word Count: 404 | Rating: E | CW: 18+ Only, Light Dom/Sub Dynamics, Unprotected Sex | Tags: Established Relationship, Foreplay, Smutty Teasing, Top Eddie Munson, Bottom Steve Harrington

this hole in me, it's just about the size of you Steve Carlson, Hole in Me

Steve stretches, feeling Eddie's firm hand on his back. It's a fixed pressure that Steve bends under. Never breaking, just relenting. Accepting. As soon as Eddie puts his hands on Steve's bare skin, Steve knows that the best of him belongs to Eddie. He's turned himself over to Eddie, without hesitation.

It's not something Steve had ever anticipated enjoying, or expected to yearn for, but that willing forfeiture of control makes him feel calm. And loved. Taken care of, in a way he's never felt before.

It's not rough, not harsh. It's just firm, and steady. Unwavering.

Eddie pressing his rough fingers into Steve's back, and Steve keens under the ten points of pressure, sure he'll have fingertip-shaped bruises tomorrow.

"Color?" Eddie asks.

"Green," Steve answers, "neon fucking green."

Eddie laughs, and Steve knows Eddie's in charge, but he's not controlling him. Steve feels powerful, even with Eddie handling him this way. Steve thinks it's supposed to be the other way around, but Eddie has said, repeatedly, that he still wants Steve to be Steve under his hands, and that's something Steve has no issue with. He's not sure he'd be great at submitting in any sort of traditional sense anyway. He's too mouthy.

Eddie drags his fingers down Steve's sides, and it's far too firm to be ticklish. Sliding over his hips, his ass, before wedging his knee between Steve's thighs, urging them to open up further.

Steve does, spreading. He'll do anything for Eddie.

He feels Eddie's thumb press against his hole, and Steve grinds down into the bed. Eddie's already spent an hour licking into him, fingering him open, in firm, demanding strokes. Steve's ready. He's open.

He's so open.

"There's a hole in me, just about the size of you," Steve teases, and he's greeted with the sound of Eddie laughing. The loving, deep rumble that sounds like home.

"Well, those are words you've just said," Eddie teases back, but he shoves two fingers inside Steve, and fuck, yes, that. All of that. Now.

Steve grinds back onto Eddie's hand. If Eddie's not gonna fuck him, he'll fuck himself.

Eddie grips his hip with his free hand, slowing his movements.

"Easy," Eddie says, and Steve gradually stills to a stop.

He's rewarded when he does. He feels the blunt head of Eddie's cock finally, fucking finally, pressing inside. A long, perfect slide.

Steve was right.

Just the right size, indeed.

I have a filthy mind and this was the perfect opportunity to do something with this song that I've always heard as so fucking dirty.

It's dirty, right? Right?? Bueller?

And I just as well get my Spotify stats good and fucked by writing fic with a song on a loop on day one of the new year. 🤣

#steddiemicrofic #steddiemicroficjanuary #stranger things #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #thisapplepielife: short fic #thisapplepielife: steddiemicrofic #Spotify

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babybatscreationsv2 · 25 days

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Cooling Metal

Marvel | Starker

Tony has been racing professionally for years, but the spark just isn't there anymore. When Tony catches sight of a street race happening he finds himself burning with adrenaline like he hasn't in years. Though he finds it hard to believe that a pretty boy like Peter really is the best street racer around.

Rating: Explicit

For my beautiful H <3

Warnings and tags: Racing au, praise kink, breeding kink, rough sex, hair pulling, rimming, cum play

Another race, another third place 'victory'. The tabloids were laughing at him. Saying he was past his prime, his reflexes were shot, he was washed up. Tony was afraid they were right. In fact, he was afraid of who he wasn't when he wasn't behind the wheel. Racing was all he'd known for so long. It was all he knew anymore.

That must have been what led him here. He'd been drawn in by the sound of engines revving. Then he'd followed the laughter and the bright lights. A long row of modded out cars blocked off the street. They looked like a rainbow. LEDs glowed in every color against the pavement. The cars were painted to match. Most of them were printed with noisy, eye-catching, decals.

Tony had never joined in any street races. He'd never needed to. His parents made sure he always had access to a track. This was something completely new to him. And it made his heart pound.

He parked his car on the street, out of their way and stepped out. The road began to rumble as the drivers started revving again. The noise of the crowd was drowned out by the engines. The shadow of a lithe figure passed across the headlights. They took their place in the center of the four cars, almost dancing their way along. Then they dropped a flag and the cars took off.

Adrenaline burned through him as they blurred past, sucking the air from the street as they went. Tony watched them go, a grin plastered to his face. He felt drunk just at the sight of it.

His ears followed the sound as they wrapped around the block. The crowd began screaming, waving, cheering. A car, neon green, came rocketing around the corner and finally slid to a stop just past the starting line. The next two were mere seconds too slow with the fourth and final coming up behind.

The drivers stepped out of their cars. The loser was ignored except for one woman who jogged over to give a man a consolation kiss. The winner was laughing, pouring beer over his face, screaming in victory in the center of a cheering crowd. Tony laughed along with them.

"You a cop?" A voice made him jump. Beside him now was a young man with too big eyes and not enough clothes. He'd cut his tank top off at the chest and his low rise shorts were barely long enough to cover whatever he was packing down there. He started at him curiously with his lips wrapped around a lollipop.

"Uh," Tony cleared his throat. "Just a spectator."

He pulled the candy from his mouth and let it pop between his lips. It was bubblegum pink and big to the point of being vulgar.

"We don't usually allow uninvited guests. But I know who you are," he said. "Just as long as you're not gonna cause any problems."

Tony held his hands. "No problems. Just uh... bored I guess."

"Right." The boy smiled. "We won't have much longer before we have to clear out, but feel free to mingle, Mr. Stark."

"Sure. Thanks, kid." The boy scoffed as he walked away. He joined up with a group that was chatting around a souped up Dodge Charger. With nowhere else to go, Tony followed after him.

No one seemed to recognize him or maybe they just didn't care. It was a blow to his ego, but it was also kind of refreshing. He took a spot where he could check out under the hood. He let out a soft whistle as his eyes roamed over the components.

"Nice huh?" The man beside him. He was a lot younger than Tony with a round face and a childish smile.

"Gorgeous. You put this together?"

"Nah," he shrugged. "I'm more of a computer guy. This is Peter's car. He's kind of the best of us around here, but he took the night off from racing. His aunt's been getting on him and- I uh, I guess that's personal." He blushed. "But hey, it really worked out for Bucky tonight. I don't think he's ever beaten Peter before which more or less means, he hasn't won in a decade."

They looked at the man now soaked with beer. He was making out with another man while a small and very drunk crowd stood around chatting and laughing.

"I'm Ned," he offered his hand. Tony shook it.

"Tony."

The boy laughed. "Yeah, I know. We're all pretty surprised you're here. Some of the other more legit racers show up sometimes, but no one's ever seen you around before. You havin' a midlife crisis or something?"

Tony paled. "No- uh, what makes you say that?"

Ned laughed. "I'm just messing with you. I'm sure you've done all kinds of street racing before. Guy like you. You're the best of the best, Mr. Stark."

"Yeah..."

The boy with the pretty eyes and the lack of clothes made his way over to the car. He smiled at Tony. "What do you think?"

"It's a nice car," Tony said.

"Thanks. I built it myself."

Tony laughed. "Sure, kid."

The other two started laughing. A bit hysterically even. Tony stood there, bewildered by whatever joke he wasn't in on.

"Tony," Ned sucked in a breath. "This is Peter. The guy I was telling you about."

Tony raised his eyebrows. "You're Peter? This is your car?"

"Yep." He grinned.

Tony looked at them both. "You're fucking with me."

Peter rolled his eyes and slammed the hood shut. "What would you know? You're seven flavors of washed up, Mr. Stark."

Tony glared at the back of his head. The hostility brewing in his gut didn't lessen when the boy turned and leaned against the hood.

"I am far from washed up."

"Really?" The boy reached into his back pocket and somehow retrieved a cell phone. He unlocked it and handed it over on the contact screen.

"Is this your idea of flirting, kid? Because I have to say it needs some work."

Peter rolled his eyes. "Just put your number in. I'll text you tomorrow. Then you can show me how not washed up you are."

"I don't have anything to prove to you," he said even as he typed his information in.

"No? Well I have something to prove." Peter stood and took his phone back. He was too close. His eyes were staring straight into the back of his own. Tony could hear his heart beat in his ears. Peter took a step back and sauntered around the car. He held his eye all the way until the door was shut. Tony barely noticed Ned climbing in the other side.

Sirens barely a block over made him jump. Everyone ran. Tony jogged back to his car and pulled onto the street, inching his way through the crowd. He barely made it out before the area was surrounded.

He had a few days off which should have been spent getting trashed at a party he said he wasn't going to, but instead he stayed in. He kept his phone within arms reach, jolting at every notification. The TV did little to distract him. Neither did anything else. His mind kept wandering back to candy coated lips and a determined scowl. The boy was cute. Interesting, too.

When the text finally came, Tony was ready. More than ready, he was pumped. It was hard to rein himself in to keep from running out the door early. Somehow, despite the adrenaline, he showed up at the spot just as everyone else did.

It was on the edge of the city where the roads became winding. The streets were lit only by headlights and LEDs. There were no street lamps or billboards here.

Cars were parked in the grass, but their drivers stood at the edge of the street. They watched as Tony pulled up next to the only car left in the road, Peter's Charger.

The window rolled down and Peter grinned at him from behind the wheel.

“I hope you remembered to stretch,” he teased.

“Is this a friendly race or should I have brought cash?” Tony called back.

Peter laughed. “I wouldn't want to rob an old man.”

Someone off the road called to Peter and he turned and nodded to them. Some girl Tony hadn't looked twice at stepped out between the headlights. Tony's hands adjusted on the wheel. He turned his gaze to the darkening road ahead.

The flag was dropped and they darted forward. Buildings overgrown and unkempt blurred past with increasing speed. Adrenaline burned under Tony's skin. A euphoric laugh burst from his chest.

He glanced at Peter beside him, nearly neck and neck. Even over the bumpy, cracked, streets the kid knew what he was doing. Then they hit a corner. Tony had never raced on roads that weren't paved smooth. All it took was a pothole to throw him off just enough for Peter to cut him off, drifting around the curve and leaving Tony behind. He wasn't ahead by much, but it was enough.

A small group of cars at the end of the street marked the end of the race. They sat in darkness until they spotted Peter coming around. Lights flicked on, hands waved from the windows. Tony was sure they were cheering.

No one cheered for him like that anymore.

He didn't win races anymore.

They both slid to a stop, Peter much more gracefully. They stepped out of their cars to cheering. A couple of hands clapped him on the back, but Tony only had eyes for the victor.

"Alright. You beat me, kid." Tony offered his hand and Peter shook it firmly.

He smiled sweetly, his pretty eyes aglow. "Don't take it too hard, old man."

Something bitter died on his tongue as his embarrassment faded. His eyes drifted over Peter's cocked hip, the crotch of his shorts that bulged just enough to be visible, his soft thighs that were begging to be touched. But more importantly, there was something in that tone that scratched at an entirely different sort of beast. Maybe it was stupid, but he wanted Peter's approval. Tony's slip stretched into a grin.

"I have something that will impress you."

"What's that?" Peter crossed his arms over his chest. That amused little smile on his lips made Tony's fingers twitch.

"Something even the king of New York's streets has never seen." Tony turned away and walked back to his car. He opened the door and looked at Peter. "Coming?"

He silently debated it for a moment. Tony considered just how much that sluttly little outfit and those pouting lips hid how just how smart he truly was.

"Peter!" Ned called from the group. "We gotta move!"

Peter looked at his friend with the slightest hint of anxiety as his decision hit a swift deadline. He grabbed his keys and tossed them. "Take my baby home. I'll see you later." Ned looked at them both, then sirens pricked their ears.

"You got it." He jogged over and slid into the driver's seat of Peter's car. Everyone scrambled.

Peter hopped into Tony's car and he slammed on the gas. They blew past city streets until the sound of sirens was far behind, then they slowed down and blended into the other traffic.

"Is it always like that?" Tony asked.

Peter laughed. Tony could see the adrenaline in his eyes. "Not every night, but pretty often. Someone eventually rats us out or the noise gives us away. Where are we going?"

"You'll see."

"You're not planning to drop me off a pier or anything right? Because Ned has my location and literally everyone knows where you live."

"Well if that's the case, you should know where we're going."

Peter looked at where they were and it seemed to click. "Aren't you gonna buy me dinner first?"

"That's a little presumptuous."

"I'm presumptuous? You didn't get the wrong idea about the little shorts did you? Everyone does."

"I'm sure you only dress like a whore."

Peter scoffed. "I'm not the paid kind anyway."

"That's too bad. You'd make a fortune."

Peter laughed. "I kind of already do."

"Oh yeah? You got some fancy condo around here?"

"Nah. My family has a lot of debt to pay off." Peter shrugged and looked out the window.

"Ned mentioned you had an aunt," Tony said gently. He could sense the tension coming off of him, but he was curious nonetheless.

"I don't wanna talk about that stuff."

"You got it, kid." He let it go, curiosity paused for now. But he would be lying if he said he didn't want to know every bit of Peter's story.

They reached the bottom of Stark Tower. The gate raised as the sensor recognized Tony's car and let them into the garage. The entry twisted around, up a dimly lit path.

"Fancy," Peter commented. Tony only smiled.

They turned the last corner and the walls opened up into the garage. Two rows of cars took up half the space with room in the center for the auto shop.

"Whoa..." Peter stared wide eyed at the room. "Wait, this is all yours? Just yours?"

"Yep. All mine. I built most of these. That one was a gift from Audi though, prototype. Never hit the streets."

"Holy shit."

Tony grinned. He parked the car in its spot and cut it off. He looked at Peter who smiled and jumped right out the door. His eyes were glittering. His smile lit up the room.

"Impressed yet?"

Peter laughed gently. "Don't tell me I got under your skin."

"Seems like you intended to."

"Maybe, but I figured you had thicker skin," Peter teased.

"Maybe I care what you think." It was a little honest, but Peter didn't laugh. He turned towards him, uninterested now in the cars. Tension thrummed between them.

"Why's that?" he said in a quiet voice. He drifted slowly toward him in small steps.

"I've been alive a long time," Tony laughed softly, humorlessly. "And somehow I've never been more alive than I am right now."

Peter gave the smallest nod, but it didn't even seem intended for him. More like he was answering his own question. He reached him, warm hands finding his chest. It snapped the tension like a rubber band.

Tony's hands wrapped around him, pulling him in chest to chest, pressing their mouths together. Peter made a little noise in surprise, but he melted against him. Tony's hands slid over his back to squeeze his ass and pull his hips against him. While Peter's hands slid down and found their way under Tony's shirt.

"You don't-" Peter started, struggling to pull his lips away. "You don't actually think I'm just slut do you?"

"I don't bring random sluts in here. I have a different garage for that."

Peter rolled his eyes. "Well then," he extracted himself from Tony's arms and backed away with a sly grin. He made his way back to the car and leaned against the cooling hood. "This seems like a good spot."

Tony licked his lips and followed after him. He grabbed Peter's thighs and lifted him off the ground, stepping between his spread legs. Peter gasped and reached for him. Tony leaned down into his hands and let Peter pull him in, kissing him slowly and deeply, to the rhythm of their hips grinding together. Peter whimpered. Tony could feel the way his cheeks heated in embarrassment. He gave him a soft moan in answer that had Peter pulling him in closer. But Tony was done with kissing.

His hand wrapped around Peter's neck and he pushed him down against the hood. With one hand he worked open Peter's shorts. Peter helped him shove them down, leaving them hanging off of one ankle along with his underwear. He let Tony manhandle him, flipping him onto his stomach and pulling his knees up onto the car.

Tony pressed kisses into his lower back, working his way down, until he found his hole.

"Tony," Peter gasped. His hands grabbed at the warm metal, but there was nothing but Tony's hands on his thighs to hold him up. He laid against the hood, moaning against the surface while Tony ate him out.

"Tony, fuck," Peter whined. Tony kept going, encouraged by the boy's noises until he needed more. He laid him down again against the hood only to turn him over on his belly.

Tony grabbed a fistful of his soft hair and pulled his head up. "Are you ready for me, baby?" He smirked at Peter's glassy eyes and slack lips.

"Uh huh," the boy whined.

"Tell me." Tony pressed his hips against Peter's ass. He watched his face as he tried to recover enough thought to speak.

"Fuck me, please," he breathed. His eyes finally focused on Tony's face.

"Good boy." Tony held Peter's hair in one hand and his own cock in the other, watching him as he forced himself inside him. Peter gasped, his mouth hung open, his eyes squeezed shut and a keening whine fell from his lips as Tony kept pushing in deeper.

"Fuck, you feel so good, baby," Tony groaned. Peter pushed back against him, moaning. His strong back arched. His hands pushed against the metal.

"Fuck me, Tony," he demanded. "Fucking breed me."

"Yeah? You want my cum, baby?"

"Please," Peter moaned.

Tony leaned over him, pressing kisses across his shoulders. He rocked his hips, fast but deep, enjoying that tight heat down the length of his dick. He wrapped a hand around Peter's cock, stroking him just as fast, listening to his voice pitch higher as he whined.

"So close," Peter gasped. "Please- please!"

"What do you need, baby?"

"Cum in me, please. I wanna feel it."

Tony moaned. "You got it, sweetheart." He pushed him down against the hood with a hand between his shoulders that slid down to hold the back of his neck. He was selfish now, fucking him how he wanted, but Peter only seemed to love it. He panted against the hood of the car, breath ghosting against the surface. Quiet pleas fell from his lips.

"You want it, baby?" Tony growled.

"Please, Tony," Peter begged.

"Gonna fucking breed you just like you wanted."

Peter whined. He slid against the warm metal as Tony pushed himself in deep and came inside him. Peter shivered beneath him. His hand slipped down to stroke his cock and before Tony had even recovered, Peter was cumming all over the hood.

Tony turned him over, moving him out of the mess. He kissed him, holding where his weight wanted to melt into the floor. Peter clung to his arms, breathing heavily and then finally slowing. He grinned.

"Sorry about the mess," Peter said with a soft laugh.

"You could always put those little shorts back on and make it up to me with a car wash." Tony wagged his eyebrows.

"I can do better than that."

"How's that?"

Peter slipped from his arms and bent over the hood. He met Tony's eye and held his gaze as he ran his tongue over the metal, licking his own cum from the surface.

"You tryin' to get fucked again?"

"I was hoping we could try out the backseat.”

#marvel #starker #au fic #racing au #prompt fill

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mommy-dust · 7 months

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Hands, Favorite Colors, & LED lights

- Cirrus has pale, veiny hands and she frequently wears black gel nail polish (she doesn’t want it to chip :<) plus jewelry she gets at shows and from the rest of the pack. Her favorite color is neon green, but she tends to keep her lights red.

- Aurora has soft and thin hands with painted nails, they seem professional, but Cumulus does them. Aurora loves putting lil gems on them and is obsessed with gradients. She also wears a gold ring with a pink heart shaped crystal that she got from Copia for her birthday :>. Her favorite color is pastel purple and she keeps her lights the same way.

- Cumulus has buttery soft hands, you’ll hold them and just melt, they’re also comfortably warm and AASDGDHDHSJSKSKKS just amazing. She paints her nails her favorite color - baby blue, and the lights in her room are white, which seems weird, but it adds a certain effect.

- Sodo/Dew has hands that are way too big for him and incredibly rough and callused, also very very warm, which is great when you have cramps, but not when you just want to hold his hands :(. Dew/Sodo paints his nails black, but he scratches it off (on purpose) His favorite color is red, and he doesn’t like lights much, except he occasionally uses blue when he misses being a water ghoul :( other than that his room is lit by candles.

- Swiss has massive hands, also very veiny. He doesn’t tend to paint his nails because it comes off in certain situations… his favorite color is

- Phantom has soft hands, somehow he plays his guitar without calluses, because they make his fingies feel icky so he soaks them off :( his favorite color is electric purple and he has gold fairy lights in his room <3

- Mountain has HUGE HANDS LIKE THE BIGGEST THINGS YOU’VE EVER SEEN, and they’re soft, great for SNATCHING YOU 👹👹 (he didn’t want to scare you :() his favorite color is olive green and he keeps his LED lights orange :3

- Rain has pretty jacked hands tbh- because bass strings are crazy thick- but he’s got calluses as expected. His favorite color is sapphire and he likes his lights dark blue :))

#the band ghost #ghost #cirrus ghoulette #ghesties #aurora ghoulette #gonst #rain ghoul #dew ghoul #sodo ghoul #mountain ghoul #phantom ghoul #swiss ghoul #cumulus ghoulette #ghoul headcanons #ghost headcanons #hcs #my hcs

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bhpop · 5 months

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Bringing back male Scene-Yuu.

{Lazy doodle and Vil did his skin care routine on Yuu so he looks squishy and soft.}

{He's in his pajamas/casual outfit btw}

I changed his personality a bit {or a lot idk}, so he's still openly aggressive but only when necessary {like dealing with the leech twins sometimes or rough people} along with that he's pretty chill and still minds his own business. So overall he's a decent and very tall person {like 2 inches taller than both Floyd and Jade if they have the same height}, so it goes with his edgy but colorful vibe {he's more of a neon green or dark blue aesthetic in his outfits}.

Bonus: Male Scene-Yuu is for a genderbend au where obviously everyone is genderbend {besides grim and and the staff}.

Also he was made mainly for fun since I had scenarios of him in chapter 5 where he wasn't going to listen to Vil's rule about food. He wasn't affected by the poison since he has a high pain tolerance like other Yuu's I made {except Eyeless-Yuu}. He was also originally gonna have a girlfriend but I scrapped that out.

#twst yuu #twst mc #twst #twisted wonderland #twst au #twst x yuu #male mc #male yuu #twst x reader #twst imagines #twisted wonderland x reader #Scene-Yuu

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ctrl-alt-vibeshift · 3 months

Text

in defense of the brat album art

my feed stopped when charli xcx dropped the album art for her upcoming sixth studio album "brat" a few weeks ago. like many angels, i was confused at first, as the image staggered out of the code on her merch site unannounced through a vinyl preorder link that originally had no image to go with it (and yes i ordered one before seeing any visuals...). even after she tweeted it, and the creative team posted about their contributions to it, questions were left unanswered. was it real? was it just a placeholder? was it an alternative cover for the brat_360 exclusive vinyl? this is not the album cover right? one angel dared ask our god in her twitter replies.

even before i got official confirmation that this was indeed the official cover, which i think came from charli's interview with vogue after the release of lead single von dutch, i was obsessed. the green: neon, but not tacky like the overdone highlighter trend already claimed by k-pop boy group nct, rather a muted, dull lime, catching your eye but not blinding you. the font: a simple sans serif, slightly condensed and elongated, nothing over-the-top or borderline illegible like the custom fonts artists usually commission. and the blur, the pixelization, the resolution, the quality (or lack thereof)—this is what really does it for me.

they're barely there, the rough, blurred edges of each letter, but once you see them you can't unsee them. the design evokes the feeling of waiting for an image to load in full quality on instagram, a youtube video playing in less than 1080p while buffering, a hi-res photo downloading from the cloud, a show or movie lagging its way into clarity on streaming services. or as oomf (@_alienmelissa) using a fan edit of von dutch lyrics put it:

(trans: lyric videos around 2008 all had fonts and backgrounds like this..........)

while thinking about the many implications of the low quality text on the cover, i read the essay "in defense of the poor image" written by hito steyerl in e-flux journal back in 2009, which perfectly put into words what i had been ruminating on:

[The poor image] mocks the promises of digital technology. Not only is it often degraded to the point of being just a hurried blur, one even doubts whether it could be called an image at all. Only digital technology could produce such a dilapidated image in the first place.

"one even doubts whether it could be called an image album cover at all," as many have due to the "poorness" of the brat art. better yet, steyerl goes on to proclaim "resolution was fetishized as if its lack amounted to castration of the author," also predicting the mass ridicule of charli for choosing and releasing such a "hurried blur" of an album art design.

regardless of what you compare it to, the low-res, early internet digital aesthetic it speaks to is something i haven't seen spoken much about. many twitter gays are up in arms about the lack of an image of charli on it, breaking her faceful cover streak (although she does hide it a bit on pop 2), and not giving them a new image to set their profile pictures to. charli has acknowledged this in the vogue interview: “I mean, as a female pop artist, what’s more bratty than not being on your album cover? Especially when there is so much pressure for women within the pop sphere to do exactly that," as well as in a tweet posted right before i started writing this:

which grimes replied to while i was writing this:

grimes scratches at what i'm getting at, but is more focused on the shock value that comes with its loud simplicity. this sentiment of breaking the feed, cutting through the visual muck and endless faces with a bold monotone color and by refusing to show face, is something i also admire. yet i think why i feel so passionately about the aesthetic value of this cover is that it offers me a respite from the overflow of high-res images mediated through the internet and onto my phone screen.

i'm so sick of the flood of iphone/digital photography, its quality increasing with each new device release. these images try too hard to replicate what they're representing, and create a false reality that many (myself included) get trapped in. we've sunken into the uncanny valley, and it's about time we claw ourselves out. i don't want to experience the physical through the digital anymore. i'd rather see all your pores when you're inches from my face than through the insane number of pixels resting in my palm. i want the images on the internet to be so obviously contained within it that there's no mistaking them for something material. i think this is why i'm such a fan of camcorder style photography and videos: like the chunky pixels surrounding "brat," they whisper i'm not real, i'm flawed technology, i will never replace the resolution of your retinas.

lucky for me, brat isn't the first artwork to do so, as there seems to be a shift back towards the materiality of the offline and the rougher edges of early internet interfaces within the broader art and design world as well. kat kitay describes this as "technoromanticism" in her essay "what's after post-internet art?" for spike magazine:

Exposed circuitry departs from the post-internet gloss typified by DIS Magazine, which shined up or hid away the ugly parts of technology. Hardware is made visible, laying bare the flow of power and information, at the same time transfiguring electronics into sacred objects.

replace DIS magazine with PC music (its audio equivalent imo) and you'll get an analogy more relevant to charli's own aesthetic journey here. the super slick black lamborghini on the cover of the vroom vroom ep has driven off, her impossibly iridescent skin on the cover of pop 2 has shed its shine, and the skyscraper she's perched on for the cover of xcx world (RIP) has long been toppled, leaving nicki minaj's gag city in its ashes. the brat cover is the antithesis to these eras.

while ecco2k croons all i wanna see is 1080p / but reality keep me on 240 on "hold me down like gravity," maybe it's time to embody the "240" of reality again. with charli teasing this record as her clubbiest to date, tapping back into her party girl roots attending uk raves in her tweens, brat offers us a chance, both visually and sonically, to embrace the blur, the sweat, the adrenaline, the tears, and of course, the poppers fumes, of a low-res life.

#charli xcx #brat #von dutch #dis magazine #pc music #drain gang #ecco2k #grimes

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greyskyflowers · 10 months

Text

I have all these half hearted soulmate AU ideas and I hate to just delete them, so I'm just going to post what I have and roll with it. Please enjoy some rough draft soulmate AU ideas that I'll never finish ~

💙

Visible soulmate marks

Strings - brook

All his strings are tangled in his rib cage.

Vivid red that's thickly woven and caught between several ribs, always moving and pulling Brook forward.

Dark green tangled up, knotted and fraying in some places but still one of the strongest looking strings he has.

Grey blue that's tied securely towards his inner ribs, usually tangled up with the dark green, and close to where his stomach would be if he had one. Yohohoho

Shimmering orange ribbon that shines on the edges and doesn't pull so much as guide with gentle tugs.

Brilliant yellow in twine, multiple smaller pieces braided into one larger stand and tried off on the bone is a messy knot.

Peaceful pink that's carefully tied with a bow and drapes in gentle loops to a lower height before fading.

Deep purple silk thread, it's thin and slides like water over bone, deceivingly sharp to the touch.

Neon blue wire that's bent on a few places but strong, wrapped over bone in multiple coils.

Flower tattoo - robin

Sunflowers cover her back in messy lines, sprouting into long leafy stems and then giant detailed blooms, a heavy and bright presence always at at her back.

Gladiolus grow up her left forearm in thick inked lines that intersect with fine perfect ones, and lush blooms, one of the larger blooms sits where her arms cross.

Blue stars cover her right forearm with elegant and surprisingly subtle line, the most stunning one parallel to the Gladiolus and they meet when her arms cross.

Dahlias grow around her ankles, beautiful and healthy with lines like a rough sketch, looking wind swept and rain drenched.

A mix of peonys grow on her collarbones, they're sweet and inked in childlike handwriting, the blooms hide playful behind each other in a bunch of petals

Clematis bloom on her chest, they're the largest bloom and are messily arranged, the lines are reminiscent of blueprints with scales and measurements.

Daffodil climb up her left side in elegant white ink and tangle together in all stanges of life: bud, bloom, and wilting with petals dropping.

Marigolds cover her right side in ink that mimics paint strokes, the blooms more detailed than any of the others and look like something from an old gardening book.

Color spots - luffy

Luffy is cover in color, everything from pale, watercolors to vivid metallic

Green covers his right hand and forearm, always visible and on the side that he throws the first punch with.

Pale blues mix on his left hand and forearm, intermixed like different depths of water.

Gold drips down the right side of his chest like spilled ink, a shine to it that catches the light and gleams.

Yellow shines like sunlight on his left knee, it's a burst of courageous color and quick to draw the eye.

Pale pink is whispy on his lower back like cotton candy, edges soft and happy.

Crisp, black is in sharp lines against his left ribs. They site between each rib like a shadow and curl like skeletal fingers.

Purple stains his fingers dark like fruit, it finds its way into his finger prints and trace the shape like it's memorizing it.

Solid grey wraps around his ankles like bands, gleaming like metal and strong looking against his skin.

Moving tattoos - zoro

Zoro is full of life, even when he's fast asleep

A sun, filled in with all the colors of a sunset and whispy, white clouds that roll lazily over the design before fading away and reforming again on the other side. The only mark he ever wants on his back

A part of a map wrapped around his upper, left arm. It flutters like it's catching the wind and the edges shine vivid gold and copper.

Flowers bloom on the back of his right hand, they drop petals that fade like they're sinking into water before the flower starts as a bud again.

Gears turn on his left side, little blue stars tumbling between them before flickering out and reappearing at the top.

The going merry circles his left ankle, it bobs happily under a half circle shape with 5 prongs on the inside.

There's a sheet of music wrapped around his upper, right thigh. Binks Sake, the notes jump like they're being played.

Smoke curls around his right forearm, spitting embers and flashing flames in dark smoke before settling back into a gentle grey.

Hoof prints walk in happy, steps around on his right ribcage. They're there and gone in quick black prints like soot in snow.

Names - nami

Luffy curls around her right wrist, vivid red ink that forms the letters in playful strokes.

Zoro is inked on her lower back in a strong, green.

Sanji rests in greyish blue under her left collarbone in clean, neat lines.

Chopper is a warm brown that wraps around her left ankles, the O replaced with a little hoofprint.

Usopp wraps around her right ankle in messy yellow like paint.

Robin is on her right ribs in dark purple, it's a beautiful cursive.

Franky is neon blue and sits on the back of her neck in block letters.

Brook is one her left ribs, black ink spelling his name in thin, curling strokes.

Usopp - constellations

Taurus in red like blood across his collarbone, a rough circle with proudly raised horns growing off to the sides.

Scorpio in black ink around his upper left arm, razor thin lines that raise high and curve before dropping back down and closing off in an arrow.

Cancer like copper coins behind his ear in tight, storming swirls and long tails.

Pisces in silver around his upper right thigh, two curves back to back and gleaming.

Aquarius in pearl around his fingers in waves that creast in points.

Capricorn in bronze on his right ribcage dripping down and up before curling into a circle and trailing off

Pisces in cobalt on his left shoulder blade, a second pair of curves sliced through but this pair is has thicker lines.

Aries in platinum down his spine, the curve starting by one side of the neck before dropping all the way down his back and back up to the other

Something from home - Sanji

A jungle tree cover his right arm, a small treehouse tucked in between all of the leaves and branches.

The outline of a small building rests on his lower back, the large doors are open and even though he hasn't seen it in person he knows it's a dojo.

A orange tree has roots on his right ankle and grows up his leg into a tree baring healthy, ripe oranges.

The outline of a snowy mountain covers his left ribs, the tops snow tipped and the shadows adding a depth.

A whale rests on his left hip, it's got a scar and a sprout of water above it

A trains follows it's tracks in loops around his left ankle and up to his kneecap

Another tree grows on his left leg, smaller around the base and larger around the middle with little dots like windows in the trunk.

The going merry sits between his shoulders, she's bittersweet but he's honored to have her on his skin.

Franky - bands

Red band that ties like an anchor hitch knot and the edges are wavy like the sea

Green band that's frayed and threadbare in some spots with 3 razor sharp lines carefully cut

Gold band with a little bow and faint maps designs almost light enough to overlook

Purple band with a design like lace, elegant flowers and hearts mixed in

Yellow band with textured like a rope and a little ship he knows but never met sailing on top

Brown band that looks like gauze and just barely covers a little hoof print behind it

Blue band that looks like fish scales and has smokey edges

Couldn't decide what to do for Chopper so let's just say his fur covers them 😀

💙

Soulmate AU ideas

Where you share parts of everything with your soulmate. Random thoughts, wounds, knowledge, etc will sneak through before disappearing

Luffy saying something he absolutely should not know and Robin grinning

Nami sharing in the heavy sleeping feeling from Zoro

Usopp showing off the brief wounds he gets from Sanji like they're his own before they disappear from his skin

Chopper being musical in a way someone with hooves shouldn't be

Franky having medical knowledge that a cyborg doesn't have much use for

They all know they could weld Zoro's swords if they needed. None of them trained in any type of swords style but they can feel the ache of the repetitive motions that come with training and way it feels to attack with the intention of killing. His swords are weary of them, aware of the power soulmates have. They all know what happened at Thriller Bark, felt the acceptance of death because it meant their captain wouldn't have to.

They all love Ace as their own immediately, memorizing everything about him in the way you do for a loved one. They have a fondness for Shanks and others that they've never met besides in stories. Their hands have been busted again and again, the skin splitting over broken bone. They've felt fire in their chest, a loss far deeper than skin.

They've all felt wind against exposed bone, even with there own safety wrapped in skin and muscle. They've felt strings under their fingers and hum melodies they've never heard. There's a loneliness in their heart that speaks of a lifetime lost, one they never lived.

They all felt the foreboding feeling of knowing a storm is coming while looking at clear skies. They wipe at their fingers like ink stains them and there's an itch that only comes from old scars that always sits on their shoulder. They trace maps in their heads and itch for a pen, calculations springing up in their minds for properly scaling.

They've all had situations where their hands knew what to do before they did, their eyes tracing over someone and seeing all the injuries like it was written on their skin. They've felt their noses itch with a influx of scents, knowing immediately what belonged to who. They've felt the zip down their spine of that animal instinct when in the presence of a predator.

They've all felt the feeling of being too big, metal where skin should be and a loss of nerves. They've felt the heavy satisfaction of building something new and impressive, constant bigger and better in their minds.

They've all spoke of books they've never read and place they've never been. They have felt multiple spines break and necks snap under their hands. There's knowledge in their heads that feels heavy and overwhelming, it wants to spill out from their mouths to make room. They miss a place and family that they never knew.

They've all had that vicious huger, the desperation only caused by starvation. They've felt the fleeting attraction to a stranger and also the beauty of genuine love. They have the itch for nicotine, lungs begging for something they've never had.

They've all had times where the day is clearer, a haze they didn't realize was there lifting off their eyes and letting them see further than they had before. They've felt the snap of a slingshot and the swelling urge of creation in their chest.

They never held Zoro's swords

They never mourn the loss of Ace the way Luffy has

They never taste a storm on the back of their tongue the way Nami has.

They've never aimed with the knowledge that people will get hurt if they miss like Usopp has

They never felt hunger as fiercely as Sanji has

They never saved someone's life with enough confidence the way Chopper has

They've never ran their fingers over the last of something the way Robin has

They've never traded skin for metal the way Franky has

They've never met death quite like Brook has

💙

Soulmate String of Fate AU?

Strings tangled in or around:

Zoro's swords

Luffy's hat

Brook's ribs

Robin's fingers

Sanji's wrists

Chopper's antlers

Franky's arms

Nami's bracelet

Usopp's hair

#straight from the drafts so please ignore any mistakes #one piece #op #luffy #zoro #sanji #nami #usopp #tony tony chopper #robin nico #franky one piece #brook one piece #mugiwara pirates #straw hat crew #hints of different pairings but im always hinting at poly/qp crew too 😘#soulmate au #soulmarks au #setting sail with greyskyflowers

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pomplalamoose · 8 months

Note

I fucking love you you’re the only person who talks abt Luke and I need more stuff abt him PLEASE litreally anything will do

Really, this means SO much to me because the only reason this blog exists is an outrageous lack of Luke content, so now I'm making it myself😤

I didn't know what you would like to hear about so here's a random collection of Luke thoughts and ideas I had since August (mostly in collaboration with my girly @little-skywalker )🫶🏻

Also this turned out a little bit more nsfw than what I usually do, I hope you don't mind

• in my mind Luke is very good with children and they like him a lot in return

• so if you have been in a healthy and loving relationship with him for a while, he'll probably ask how you feel about kids of your own

• as someone who wants to avoid pregnancy at all costs I like to think he'd be very understanding about you feeling uncomfortable with giving birth to a child yourself

• because of this he'd be more than happy to adopt too

• especially because he knows what it's like to loose caregivers and grow up without knowledge about your real parents, he'd be so enthusiastic to raise orphans with all the love they deserve

• along with the ones already in his Jedi Academy, you'd have a shit ton of kids around

• related to this I can totally see him giving out fun stickers as rewards

• the children cleaned their rooms? Sticker. They did their house hold chores? Sticker. They did well at school? Sticker. They made him laugh? Sticker.

• he likes to give you some too if that's what you want

• (although for wildly different reasons)

• when he's in a good mood, Luke is a tease

• often about pretty innocent things like a stain of marmelade on your top or when you mispronounce a word lost in thought

• other than that he likes to gently pull your hair while he's sneaking up on you

• or to grab your nape with ice cold fingers after washing them

• he loves hearing you shriek his name and your indignant expression after

• when you're alone though, things quickly take a turn in a whole other direction

• he's never mean of course, but making you blush is one of his favorite activities

• he likes to mock the sounds you make in bed, sometimes even going as far as mimicking them

• he likes to pinch and squeeze your soft thighs, your arms and ass or your breasts until you swat his hands away

• when he discovers something new you like, you won't hear the end of it for the next few weeks

• he has a way of glancing and smiling at you suggestively while others are around that makes you fume

• Luke likes to see you in pretty lingerie, no matter whether you bought it yourself to surprise him or if he gave it to you as a present

• one can argue about his favorite colors in that regard

• my first idea was a nice pastel green to match his lightsaber

• until I realized his lightsaber is neon green

• the ultimate conclusion: Luke likes to see you in neon green lingerie

• (maybe go for black, you can't go wrong with black)

• Luke is ✨well endowed✨ and while not too big, he's still a lot to take

• I like to think you'd need to practice to get him fully inside of you

• he's always patient and careful with you though, and knows how to make it as pleasant as he possibly can

• he doesn't want to hurt you

• that said, sometimes he tends to forget himself while you are going at it

• when at first he was slow and gentle, he sometimes gets a little bit too into it and his thrusts grow rough, almost bruising

• he'll catch himself quickly and apologize, though if you liked it, he may be willing to change up his pace a little bit

• I'd like to add how insanely attractive that man is as well

• everything about him is good looking, even (or especially?) his hands

• they are simply made to be kissed and licked

• (imagine sucking on his fingers)

• also it'd be nice to just be held by them

• your hand would completely disappear in his

• and they are always nicely warm

• I'm sure that Luke is very strong as well

• he didn't train in that swamp on Dagobah for nothing

• we all have noticed his arm muscles

• that combined with his height, he's easily able to manhandle about everyone

• the children love when he picks them up to spin them around or to throw them up in the air as if they weigh next to nothing to him

• you like to be picked up as well, especially if he then pins you to a wall

• or down on his bed

• if he wants to cuddle there is not much you can do about it

• while I'm not necessarily into nicknames or other kinds of endearments, the thought of being called bunny by Luke drives me crazy

• I find it to be fitting in every kind of situation too

• it doesn't matter if it's said in a soothing manner or just casually during the day

• imagine him calling you bunny to admonish you

• OR when you're bouncing up and down on his enormous d-*gunshot noise*

#ask #luke skywalker #star wars #fanfic #luke star wars #star wars fanfiction #luke skywalker x reader #luke skywalker x you #star wars a new hope #star wars empire strikes back #star wars return of the jedi #headcanons #luke skywalker fanfiction #luke skywalker smut

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hyuckwrlds · 1 year

Text

>> always you

wc: 1.7k happy birthday jaehyun

one.

on the fourteenth of february, your best friend scolds you for being five minutes late to class. she’s always been a bit punctual you think; a little more so than you have ever been.

two minutes later a boy walks in with a birthday hat on his head and a fake mustache sharpied above his upper lip. he takes a seat somewhere behind you, ignoring the snickers from his friends as he does so. you couldn’t help but find yourself snorting quietly in amusement too.

“that must be him,” your best friend muses. you turn to her curiously and she continues. “one of the frats is throwing a party tonight for valentine’s day and one of their birthdays. i’m guessing that’s the birthday boy.”

you nod in understanding, turning to sneak a glance back at him. his hair is a fading blonde color, dimples appearing at his cheeks when he laughs at his friend’s joke. you turn back around.

“do you want to go?” your best friend suddenly asks.

you blink. “go where?”

“to the party.”

“oh,” you say dumbly before shaking your head. “i think i’ll pass. i have a paper due tonight.”

besides, you tell her, it’s not like you have anything to celebrate anyway. she lets out a whine but groans even louder once your professor announces a pop quiz to the class.

“you’d think he’d cut us some slack because it’s valentine’s day,” she sighs. “but maybe he’s just lonely and miserable...like us.”

you laugh, then hand her a sheet of paper.

two.

february fourteenth returns with a downpour of rain. you shuffle past the doors of the lecture hall about a minute late, shaking off the water caught on the wrinkles of your sleeve. your best friend forgoes scolding you when you take your seat beside her. she instead opts to give you a pointed look.

your english professor this year doesn’t quite believe in pop quizzes like your other one had, instead preaching about teamwork and collaboration before she’s suddenly assigning partners for an upcoming project. you listen closely, eyes wandering when she calls your name after that of a boy sitting at the other end of the room.

once class is dismissed, your partner walks over, stopping right in front of your desk. he gives you a polite smile and it dawns on you that he’s been in a few of your classes before. well too aware of your friend’s prying eyes beside you, you do your best to ignore her.

“hey,” he greets. “we’re partners, right?”

you shove your things into your bag before giving him a nod. “yeah, i think so.”

“cool,” he breathes out. with one hand clutching onto the strap of his backpack, he reaches the other out to you. “i’m jaehyun.”

your head falls into a tilt as you look at him. there’s pink glitter decorating his dark hair and sparkly heart stickers pressed on each of his dimpled cheeks. pinned to the front of his hoodie is a neon green button declaring ‘BIRTHDAY BOY!’ in stark bold font. jaehyun’s quick to notice your staring; face flushing furiously under the yellowed classroom light.

“it’s…” he begins sheepishly. “it’s my frat brothers’ idea.”

you give him an amused huff before standing to shake his hand. his hand is rough against yours, palm calloused from you don’t know what. you introduce yourself in return and proceed to exchange contact info.

when he shoves his phone back in his pocket, he gives you a curt nod goodbye and shifts his backpack further up his shoulders. you call his name once he goes to leave. he turns; brows raised while you gesture to his button.

“happy birthday, by the way,” you say.

he smiles warmly and something inside your stomach flutters. you push it aside.

“thanks,” he beams. “i’ll see you later.”

three.

“what’d you get for number four?”

“c,” he hums. “and you’re coming tonight right?”

you look up from your laptop with a blank face. not a single part of you knows what he’s talking about so you freeze in your seat.

“what’s tonight?” you ask, unsure.

jaehyun reaches across the table to bonk the top of your head with his pen, clicking his tongue disapprovingly. he dismisses your ignorance with a shake of his head. “my birthday party.”

your eyes widen. beside you, your laptop screen shines brightly with the day’s date. february fourteen—jaehyun’s birthday. you’re not entirely sure how you’d managed to spend the whole day with him without realizing and your cheeks start to burn in embarrassment.

“oh my g—” you toss your head back with a groan. “it’s your birthday. i’m sorry, happy birthday.”

“thanks,” he chuckles. “i guess it’s kinda hard to remember when i’m not wearing a stupid button announcing it to the world.”

from the corner of your eye, you catch your best friend entering the cafe but immediately stopping upon seeing you there with jaehyun. she shoots you a knowing look. you pretend not to notice it.

“sorry,” your voice softens. you meet jaehyun’s gaze; your former english partner turned english friend and give him an apologetic look. “i’d go but i have a presentation tomorrow morning.”

“you don’t have to drink,” he bargains. leaning back into his chair, he stretches his arms above his head which causes his shirt to ride up, displaying a sliver of his stomach that causes you to nearly short circuit. he shugs. “i guess it wasn’t really a question though. you’re coming.”

you scoff. “what?”

“it’s my birthday,” he states matter-of-factly. “and i want you to be there so you can’t say no to me.”

you narrow your eyes at him. “what if i do?”

“then this friendship is over and i’m never letting you look at my work again.”

you frown. crossing your arms against your chest, he leans in closer with his forearms folded on the table. he always manages to get you right where he wants you and you’re sure he’s well aware of that fact. when you exhale in defeat, a grin appears on his face—he’s already got you figured out.

“so you’re coming tonight, right?” he repeats smugly, dimples on display as your face flushes beneath his gaze.

begrudingly, you relent. “fine.”

yet as his smile widens and he throws a small fist into the air, you can’t help but think that maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to go anyway.

four.

february fourteenth comes again with a stroke of luck. the soles of your shoes scuff against the floor as you rush down the stairs of the humanities building, determined to get to the other end of campus before your next class begins. you somehow managed to be the first person to leave lecture the second it was dismissed and now you can only hope that time is on your side for the next few minutes.

you get to the classroom just as everyone begins to shuffle out, about twenty students passing you by until you catch sight of that familiar face. twenty two, twenty three, until jaehyun’s walking through the doors with a friend by his side. you call his name. he turns to look at you.

bidding his friend goodbye he jogs over, lips pulled in a gentle smile. his hair is a freshly dyed chestnut brown and you can’t help but think that it looks awfully good on him like this.

“hey,” he greets. “i didn’t expect to see you here.”

“yeah,” you breathe tiredly before handing him a small wrapped box from your bag. his eyes widen as he takes it from you, your gaze flickering to the time on your watch. there’s about four minutes left until your next class begins.

“just wanted to let you know that i didn’t forget this year,” you say. “happy birthday, jaehyun.”

he inspects the gift with care and your heart softens at the sight. with a final breath, you give him a small wave. “i gotta get going but i’ll see you later!”

just as you go to leave, he says your name. you turn; brows raised while he closes the distance.

“wait,” he beckons, nearly stumbling over to catch you. “hold on.”

he stops in front of you, taking a moment to himself before he’s cupping your cheek and leaning down to kiss you. you kiss him back gently.

when he pulls away your chest floods with nothing but warmth, erupting with fireworks in nearly every color imaginable. his hand is soft against your face; the corners of his lips twitching upwards into another smile.

“sorry,” he rests his forehead against yours. “i know you’re running late but i’ve kinda been wanting to do that for a while now.”

“it’s okay,” you reply breathlessly. “another minute won’t kill me.”

you tilt your head back up to kiss him again, grinning once you feel the way he beams against your lips. it’s only until your phone starts vibrating with texts from your best friend that you force yourself to pull away. you step from his grasp slowly, your heart drumming heavily in your ears.

“i gotta go,” you tell him, suddenly shy beneath his gaze. “but maybe we can pick up on this later?”

jaehyun smiles widely and his chestnut hair shines against the afternoon sun. in his hand he holds your gift.

he nods. “i’d like that.”

five.

on the fourteenth of february, you wake up to the soft morning light and the warmth of his arms slung across your body.

the calendar on your wall is decorated with pink glitter and stickered hearts; smiley faces and doodles that scatter the date alongside jaehyun’s name in bold red marker. beside you, he stirs in bed.

last week, your best friend had told you that you were lucky to have someone like him. and as you look at his sleeping face with your heart swelling in your chest, you can’t help but agree.

when his eyes blink open and the light starts to fracture in the browns of his irises, you’re completely certain that there’s no where else you’d rather be. he gives you a sleepy smile and pulls you in closer, tucking your face against the warmth of his chest. he sighs contentedly.

pressing a kiss to his shoulder, you steal your chance to say it first, before his phone gets the opportunity to buzz with messages from friends and family. you nuzzle into him just a little bit more.

“happy birthday, jae. i love you.”

#happy birthday jaehyun fr #this was kinda rushed bc i wanted to get it out today so writing def isnt polished #jeong jaehyun #jaehyun #nct jaehyun #nct #nct 127 #nct x reader #nct fluff #nct 127 fluff #nct soft scenarios #nct imagines #jaehyun imagines #jaehyun fluff #jaehyun scenarios #nct 127 scenarios #nct scenarios #hyuckwrlds

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