#fuck it this a wrestling account tonight
Text
no nut november — lee know (winner)
pairing: lee minho x fem!reader
warnings: swearing, smut (18+ mdni), oral (f receiving), multiple orgasms, unprotected sex
a/n: part of @gimmeurtmi's and i’s collab <3
word count: 4.3k
series masterlist
“God, that feels so good,” you whine.
Minho’s head pops up from between your legs and he grins, chin shiny with your arousal. “You close?”
“I was until you stopped,” you grumble.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” he says with a pout.
You push his head lightly. “You’re not sorry.”
“You’re right, I’m not.”
You roll your eyes. “Just because you can’t cum doesn’t mean I can’t.”
“I thought we were in this together,” Minho whines.
“You really want to deal with a girlfriend who hasn’t cum in a month?”
“Good point.”
With that, Minho gets back to work. He’s teasing you purposely, this time, dragging his tongue up and down your slit without staying in one place long enough to be effective.
“Minho.”
“Hm?”
“Please...”
“Please what?”
“Need more.”
“Use your words, baby- hey. Don’t squirm.”
He presses down on your hips to keep you still, basically wrestling you into place. You surrender to him but only because you know he’s stronger. Minho smacks your cunt twice, each time making you jolt slightly.
“Let’s try this again. Use your words to ask for what you want.”
“Can I- can I have something inside? Like your fingers or your tongue?”
“What about my cock?”
“What about it?”
“You don’t want my cock inside of you?”
“Of course I do, I always do. I just... didn’t think that was on the table.”
“Why not?”
“Are you really going to make me say it?” you groan.
“You don’t think I can control myself?” Minho accuses.
“No, actually, I don’t!”
He sits up, hand over his heart in mock offense. “You wound me.”
“You just get very... passionate when we have sex.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means that once you start, you can’t stop.”
Minho narrows his eyes at you like you’re challenging him, even though that isn’t your intention at all. You don’t want him to lose on your account, but you can only resist your irresistible boyfriend offering you his dick on a silver platter for so long.
“I can’t believe you think that little of me!”
“It’s not that you can’t last, Min- we both know you can. You just like to... finish something once you’ve started.”
“Is that supposed to be a pun?”
You grin. “Sorry, couldn’t help myself.”
He rolls his eyes at you. “You’re such a loser.”
“That you’re in love with.”
“Yeah, yeah. You’re lucky that’s the case.”
“And here I was thinking you’re the lucky one.”
“Oh, I definitely am. Listening to your terrible jokes is a small price to pay for getting to be your person.”
You push his chest bashfully. “Don’t get all cheesy now.”
“Why not? Can’t take it?”
“No, actually. I can’t. If you keep pouring your heart out to me like that I’ll die on the spot and then you’ll go away for my murder. “
“Worst they could get me for is manslaughter,” Minho scoffs like he’s brushing off the possibility.
“So comforting to hear when you have me pinned underneath you.”
He smirks. “Did you want to get fucked or not? I do have to work later tonight.”
You sigh, shrugging. If he was so insistent about it, you weren’t going to fight it anymore. You were only trying to do him a favor in the first place. His funeral and all that.
“Give it to me.”
Minho’s smirk turns into a genuine grin and he rubs your thighs in excitement. “I know you wanted something inside but did you want me to make you cum before fucking you?” You shake your head no. “Are you sure?”
“Yeah, just put it in.”
“So romantic.”
Despite the sarcasm in his voice, Minho scoots up so that his face is just inches above yours and kisses you deeply, getting you to moan so that he can slip his tongue into your mouth. He tastes like you, unsurprisingly, and like the strawberry jam you put on your toast in the mornings.
“Spread your legs a bit more for me, baby,” he whispers. You do, and he praises you for it. “There you go.”
One of his hands comes down in between your legs to rub your clit as he eases himself inside of you. The fit is perfect, like always, but the stretch is obviously a little more intense than usual.
“You alright?”
“Yeah, just give me a minute.”
While he waits, he just lies on top of you, ignoring your complaints when you tell him you can’t breathe. Then, you tap him on the back twice to let him know he can move so he does.
Minho isn’t one to jump right into fucking the life out of you, preferring to start slow and build gradually build the pace, and today is no different. He’s even slower than he normally is, being extra considerate of your disposition.
“You can go faster,” you urge him. “I promise I won’t break.”
You see him hesitate, almost like he wants to ask you if you’re sure, but he doesn’t. It’s something he’s been working on, trusting you to be honest about what you want in the bedroom, much like you’ve been working on telling him what you want in the bedroom. “Wrap your legs around my waist, baby.”
You moan as soon as you lock your ankles behind his back, the angle already pushing him deeper inside of you.
“Oh fuck,” you gasp.
“Atta girl. So good for me when you wanna be, huh?”
You nod, whimpering.
He keeps his fingers on your clit as he fucks you, wanting to get you to the edge as fast as possible. You assume he’ll draw back, slow down and edge you just like he had when he was eating you out a few minutes ago, but he doesn’t.
“Fuck, I’m going to- I’m cumming!”
You sob as it hits you, wrapping your arms around your boyfriend’s neck and pulling him close. He makes a sound of surprise as he falls forward into you but easily accepts his fate and begins to kiss and nip at your neck.
Minho’s still fucking you even after you come down, even though your legs are trembling and tears are staining your cheeks. He seems entirely unaffected by the way your pussy’s clenching relentlessly around him. Meanwhile, you’re falling apart every time the head of his cock nudges your g-spot. Curse his dancer’s hips and performer’s stamina.
“Think you can give me another one?” he asks. You can hear the smirk in his voice and it’s infuriating.
You don’t get the chance to respond before you’re cumming again, whining his name and biting your fist so hard you think you’ve drawn blood. It isn’t unlike Minho to fuck you into a second orgasm right after the first, he loves overstimulating you almost as much as he loves edging you, but it always catches you off guard.
“Fuck, you’re tight,” he grunts.
“Yeah, I just c-came twice.”
“You’re always tight,” he says matter-of-factly.
“Thank you?”
“You’re welcome.”
You snort and roll your eyes while Minho kisses your nose.
“One more?” he asks, rolling his hips experimentally.
Your eyes roll to the back of your head and you moan. “Yes, please. Please make me cum again.”
Minho tries to gently coax the third orgasm out of you, taking his time instead of fucking your brains out like he just had been. You can tell he’s getting close too. He’s trying not to show it but he has a tell that’s a dead giveaway every time.
“So good for me, letting me do whatever I want to you,” he pants. “So fucking warm and tight and perfect. God, you can never get enough of this cock, can you? Just have to have it all the time.”
“Yes, always!” you agree even though you aren’t entirely sure he’s expecting an answer.
“That’s my fucking girl.”
You cum unexpectedly, shocking both yourself and your boyfriend. It’s all Minho’s fault, really. He can’t say shit like that and expect you not to gush everywhere.
He tries to make the most of it by thrusting deep as he fucks you through the orgasm. You clutch him to you, digging your nails into his back as your thighs tighten around his waist.
The cries of his name and the pulsing of your cunt drive Minho right to the edge and he’s suddenly frantic, whimpering and grunting in your ear as he desperately begs you to say the things he needs to hear.
“Tell me you love me,” he whines. “Please, baby tell me you’re mine.”
“I love you! I love you, baby. I’m yours, I’m yours. ”
It hits him hard- body going tense, eyebrows knitting together, mouth falling open as he cums inside of you. He looks so pretty like that, it’s a view you’ll never get tired of. It’s almost enough to make you cum again. You can feel it, feel his cock throbbing as he fills you up. You hadn’t used condoms with Minho for a long time now, didn’t need to when you were taking twice the typical dose of birth control for your awful periods. And you had been dating for long enough that you could trust each other with something as intimate as this.
Minho gives you and himself a moment to recover before he’s pulling out and rolling off of you. He feels around for one of the washcloths you always kept on the nightstand and finds one, cleaning himself and your thighs off.
“I’ll wet go wet another one with warm water for the actual mess,” he assures you. “Don’t want to use a dry washcloth on that. Your PH balance is already fucked up enough after what we just did.”
You wrinkle your nose at him. “Can you not say stuff like that until at least twenty minutes after we fuck?”
“You don’t think it’s sexy that your boyfriend cares and is knowledgeable about vaginal health?”
“I do, but I don’t think I would classify the subject as bedroom talk.”
“Agree to disagree.”
It isn’t until you’ve both showered and are laying in bed together that you bring the bet back up. Minho still has about an hour before he needs to be at the JYPE building and he’s trying to spend as much of that time with you as humanly possible.
“Min, the bet,” you sigh.
“What about it?”
“You lost. You guys shook on it like... a few hours ago.”
Minho shrugs. “Oh well.”
You sit up, detaching yourself from him to give him a look.
“What?” he asks.
“You’re the most competitive person I know..”
He grins. “Thank you.”
“That wasn’t necessarily a compliment, but you’re welcome, I guess. I just mean you’re not even a little upset about being the first out?”
Another shrug. “Meh. You win some, you lose some.”
“Have you told them yet? What did they say?”
“I’m just gonna let them figure it out on their own,” he says.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Exactly what it sounds like.”
You narrow your eyes at your boyfriend as it dawns on you. “You were never going to play, were you?”
Minho smirks. “Oh, I’m playing. I’m just playing a different game.”
-
“I’m not lying to our friends!”
“It’s not lying! It’s just not telling them.”
“It’s called a lie of omission for a reason, Minho. Because it’s a lie. And what if they straight up ask me about it? What am I supposed to say then?”
“Just change the subject.”
“Yeah, because that’ll work fine and not be suspicious at all.”
“Babe, please,” he pleads.
“It seems mean!”
“It is mean,” he agrees. “But it’s funny.”
“What if they all hate you after this?”
“They contractually can’t hate me. They still have to be in a group with me for the next two years and if we renew then even longer. Besides, this is me getting back at them for volunteering me to MC for Music Core. I was sick the day the representative came around to the company and they all recommended me knowing I wouldn’t want to do it because they thought it would be funny. Next thing I know, I’m in the audition room and they’re telling me I have to wear stupid hats and do aegyo every Saturday-”
“I thought you liked the hats.”
“They’re okay sometimes,” he huffs, refusing to admit what you both know to be true. “But it’s the principle of the thing.”
“Yeah, yeah, I get it, Mr. Drama King. What do I get in return for participating in your little revenge plot?”
“What do you want?”
“The rest of the SKZOOs.”
Minho purses his lips, holding back a scoff. The only SKZOO you owned was Leebit, obviously. You actually had a couple of Leebits around your apartment but Minho had jokingly banned you from getting any of the others because, in his words, he was supposed to be your favorite member.
“Having the others doesn’t mean you’re not my favorite,” you’d argued. “Do you want Leebit to be lonely?”
“Leebit doesn’t need friends,” Minho had insisted. “He’s happier by himself.”
You weren’t convinced but you also didn’t feel like arguing with your very stubborn boyfriend on the subject. You were content with Leebit for the time being- until now, that was.
“That’s really what you want?” Minho asks.
“Mhm.”
He sighs, shoving his hands in the pockets of his jeans. “Fine. Deal.”
You grin triumphantly and kiss him on the cheek. “Pleasure doing business.”
“You’re a menace.”
“And that’s why you love me. We’re made for each other.”
-
Your plan was to simply avoid the members and their partners for the entire month. If you didn’t run into them, you wouldn’t have to lie to them. Easy peasy. Right?
“Jisung did what?” you gasp, standing dumbfounded in the middle of your bedroom as your boyfriend gets dressed.
“Planned a surprise birthday party for me,” Minho repeats.
“Why would he do that?”
“Because he’s my best friend?”
“But... your birthday was last month. And how is it a surprise party if you already know about it?”
“You know he’s not good at keeping secrets. Or planning ahead.”
You sigh and put your hands on your hips as you watch Minho button his nice dress shirt.
“Do I have to go?”
He pauses to look up at you. “What do you mean do you have to go? You don’t want to?”
“It’s not that,” you explain, “I’m just worried about someone bringing up your stupid bet and having to lie to them.”
“I’ll do most of the talking,” he assures you. “Just stick by my side.”
Thankfully, the party Jisung had planned was on the smaller side. Only Minho’s closest friends were in attendance which meant that you knew almost everyone there. Han had admittedly outdone himself with the setup, too. You couldn’t even recognize the JYPE ballroom with all of the decorations and lights strung up everywhere. You told him as much when you saw him.
“If only the guy was actually surprised,” he grumbled to himself, “but thank you. I’m glad you like it.”
The ‘sticking by Minho’s side’ method only worked when he was actually by your side. Midway through the party, he excuses himself to go talk to one of his friends, leaving you to fend for yourself until he returns.
“Oh my god, I feel like it’s been forever!” a familiar voice echoes from behind you.
You turn to see Hyunjin’s girlfriend holding her arms out to you for a hug, and quickly reciprocate, briefly wrapping your arms around her in greeting.
“It’s been too long,” you agree.
“Where have you been?” she asks. “The other girls have been asking for you.”
“Oh, you know,” you mumble, “work has really picked up lately so I’ve just been swamped.”
It’s not technically a lie, you have been swamped, but you’ve also been actively avoiding your friends at the same time.
“Ugh, that sucks. It must be so stressful,” she sympathizes, then lowers her voice. “How have you been doing with... you know?”
Fuck.
You take a deep breath and swallow the guilt that threatens to claw its way up your throat as you scramble to come up with a bullshit answer. “About as well as any of us, I figure.”
“Fucking tell me about it,” she groans. “I nearly killed Hyunjin when he told me about it. I still might.”
You laugh. “If he goes missing, I won’t say anything.”
Suddenly, Minho’s back by your side, his hand resting on the small of your back. He greets Hyunjin’s girlfriend warmly. She wishes Minho a happy birthday and then excuses herself to go find her own boyfriend.
“What were you two talking about?”
“Who’s asking?” you ask in response.
“The birthday boy.”
“He has no authority here, sorry.”
Minho’s jaw drops in faux shock. “You’re really not going to tell me?”
“She just asked me how I was holding up through all of this No Nut November bullshit,” you admit.
“Wait, she actually asked you about it?”
“Yes, she actually asked me about it. Girls talk about this stuff.”
He winces and rocks back on his heels. “Damn, I’m sorry, baby.”
You roll your eyes. “Yeah, yeah, just don’t fucking leave me again. What was so important you had to ditch me for in the first place?”
“I went to go say hey to that girl Jeongin likes,” Minho explains, nodding in her direction.
You look over to where she was now sitting with Jeongin and nod in understanding. “That’s her?”
She was one of the guests you didn’t know super well. You had only seen her at a few group functions and she mostly kept to Jeongin and some of the other younger members.
“Yeah, that’s her.”
“What did you say to her?”
“I just thought she might be interested to know that her crush on Innie is mutual.”
“What?”
“She likes Jeongin back.”
“No, I know she does.” One of the other girls had told you about Jeongin’s little crush and how the two were practically shooting heart eyes at the other all the time but were completely oblivious. You just hadn’t been able to put a face to the name until now. “How do you know that?”
“It wasn’t hard to figure out,” Minho mutters defensively.
“But why would you try to meddle in their business? Shouldn’t you let them figure it out for themselves?”
“If I didn’t interfere they’d never act on their feelings,” he argues.
“And why did you decide to ‘interfere’ now of all times?” you push.
Minho smirks, knowing you’re on to him. “I think you already know the answer to that.”
You roll your eyes and shove him lightly. “Why are you trying to make him lose? You’re already out so why does it matter?”
“I’m just trying to keep it interesting!”
“You’re being an asshole, is what you’re doing!”
“You’re hot when you’re mad.”
“Don’t change the subject!”
“What do you say we get out of here?” he suggests, completely ignoring what you’d just said.
“You can’t leave your own birthday party early!”
“Says who?”
“It would be rude, Minho.”
“Fine, then let’s find a closet or something.”
“You really want to fuck like twenty feet away from everyone you’re up against for No Nut November?”
He shrugs. “Who doesn’t like a little challenge?”
-
Jeongin loses next, then Hyunjin. Changbin follows not long after, then Chan, then Felix. All the while, you continue to have sex with Minho. He comes over a lot more often, fucking you in every room of your apartment and then falling asleep in your bed just to go again in the morning.
You can’t risk being at the dorms because neither of you are very good at keeping your hands off of each other, but you don’t want to raise suspicion by not being around so you drop by a couple of times throughout the month under the guise of bringing Minho dinner or picking him up for date night.
When the boys ask about you, Minho gives them the same excuse you’d told Hyunjin’s girlfriend about work. They don’t pry, thankfully, probably too intimidated by your boyfriend to invoke your name more than once every three to five business days. Minho could be a little possessive at times, even around the friends he’d known longer than he had known you, and that was working in your favor this month.
The other six having lost meant that Seungmin was the only one left standing. Technically, he had already won. But he doesn’t know that. Only you and Minho know that.
You expect Minho to tell him the good news as soon as Felix announces his failure, but he doesn’t.
“November isn’t over yet,” he points out.
“You’re just going to let Minnie suffer?”
“He’ll be fine.”
“He’s going to kill you.”
“Probably.”
-
Minho feels a little bad about having you lie on his behalf, but not bad enough to stop you from doing it. You’re just as much of a little jerk as he is, which is why he knew you’d agree in the first place. Sure, your moral compass is a bit more aligned than his, but that’s what makes you such a great pair. You’re there to reign him in when he goes too far, and he’s there to push your boundaries.
“You’re having fun, aren’t you?” he asks when you come back from a girls brunch all giddy and breathless.
You hadn’t even wanted to go in the first place to save yourself from lying to them all morning but Seungmin’s girlfriend had begged you to, seeing as you were the only two whose boyfriend’s hadn’t caved and therefore weren’t getting laid like the other girls were.
You didn’t want to leave her hanging like that, so you went. And now, you’re practically glowing with adrenaline as you recount the last two hours to Minho.
“I said that you won’t even touch me,” you exclaim, making Minho’s smile falter. “And that you’ve resorted to sleeping on the couch when you stay over so you don’t accidentally get too close to me in your sleep.”
He scoffs. “Did you have to make me sound like a total fucking loser?”
“Would you rather I have told the truth?”
“Okay, okay, you’re right. Thank you for doing that.”
You take a seat on Minho’s lap and hum happily. “You’re welcome.”
-
When the clock strikes midnight on December first, Minho’s surprised by the radio silence from Seungmin’s end.
“Do you think he’s asleep?” he asks you.
“Maybe he’s fucking his girlfriend into oblivion,” you suggest with a shrug. “I hope he is for her sake. Poor girl was desperate for dick.”
Minho isn’t really sure how to respond to that so he doesn’t. He just hums in acknowledgment and turns the lamp by your bedside off so that your room is doused in darkness. You pat his thigh comfortingly under the blankets.
“We’ll find out tomorrow, babe.”
“I guess we will.”
Seungmin doesn’t text the groupchat until the afternoon, hours after Chan’s texted asking who won. Minho shows you the texts and you read over his shoulder as the messages roll in.
Kim Seungmin SKZ: lost an hour or two before midnight. congrats minho.
Lee Felix SKZ: minho won??? Why am i not surprised at all lol
Hwang Hyunjin SKZ: I think we all saw this coming.
Hwang Hyunjin SKZ: pun intended.
Bang Chan SKZ: so where are you going to take your gf?
Minho: actually, you all should congratulate Seungmin.
Bang Chan SKZ: what?
Hannie: what? did you lose yesterday afternoon or something?
Seo Changbin SKZ: ???
Minho: I was the first to lose.
The groupchat is silent for a single beat before it starts blowing up with messages from all of the members furiously cursing Minho out. He laughs as he scrolls through them.
Bang Chan SKZ: all in favor of voting lee know out of the group?
Kim Seungmin SKZ: i think it’s unanimous.
Minho: Relax, Minnie. You won. You’re getting the trip.
Kim Seungmin SKZ: RELAX? YOU’RE GOING TO TELL ME TO FUCKING RELAX??? I COULD HAVE BEEN FUCKING MY GIRLFRIEND THREE DAYS AGO AFTER FELIX LOST BUT NOOO YOU THINK YOU’RE SO FUNNY MAKING THE REST OF US LOOK LIKE IDIOTS
Yang Jeongin SKZ: i mean it is kind of funny
Hannie: you’re not mad innie?
Yang Jeongin SKZ: i was out second... or i guess technically third so i was never going to win anyway. minho got me a girlfriend out of this so i can’t really complain too much
Minho: Listen, I’m happy to be the sole contributor to Minnie’s vacation since I was the one to orchestrate all this. The rest of you can donate to that nonprofit we talked about at the beginning of the month. I’ll make a donation too obviously but don’t worry about the trip.
Kim Seungmin SKZ: I don’t want your pity money
Minho: it’s not pity money, it’s sorry for being an asshole money
Seo Changbin SKZ: if he doesn’t want it, i’ll take it
Kim Seungmin: don’t you fucking dare
Minho: anyway, if you guys are done bitching I’m going to go spend some time with my girlfriend now. I hope you’ve all learned your lesson.
Hwang Hyunjin SKZ: our lesson???
Lee Felix SKZ: wym?
Bang Chan SKZ: oh don’t tell us you’re still mad about that
Minho: not anymore. we’re even now.
Minho puts his phone down on the counter as soon as it starts to ring with a call from Seungmin. He swipes the decline icon and turns his attention to you.
“Was it worth it?” you ask.
He opens his mouth to answer but his phone rings again, cutting him off. It’s a call from Chan this time. He declines it and turns the phone off completely so that no one else can bother the two of you.
He leans forward and kisses you hard, taking your bottom lip between his teeth as his hands settle on your ass.
“Was it worth it?” he repeats, smirking. “I’d do it again in a fucking heartbeat.”
sorry again for the wait- as you all know i've been going through a lot lol
nnn tags: @doesthismeannothingtoyou @yellowroses-world @allyoops @thelostverse @karlitaburrito @lydataylorsversion @septemberkisses @caticorn61 @multifandomtrash-dree @cixrosie @mchslut @cutiequokka @fairygemss @multistancheck @lady---boner @stay-bi @compersian @raspbinniecreme @skzgallll @strawberriesandknives @laylasbunbunny @goddessofhiddenpleasures @brit97 @jonaticdragon @linobuns @vampcharxter @skizzel @sillyrabbit76 @sahazzy @kpfly @zerefdragn331 @wonuziex @sirleeknow @ashcapybara
#no nut november stray kids#no nut november skz#nnn skz#stray kids smut#skz smut#lee know smut#lino smut#lee minho smut#minho smut#stray kids x reader#lee know x reader#stray kids x female reader#skz x reader#skz x female reader#lee know fic#lee know fanfic#lee know fanfiction#stray kids fic#stray kids series
5K notes
·
View notes
Text
[nanami kento] a man of yours, tonight
[Nanami Kento x FTM/Transgender Male Reader Smut]
CW: Contains scenes of explicit sex below the cut
Walang plot for real
He has noticed your shy smiles, the exuberance in that glint in your eyes every time he gives voice to the praise you deserve. He'll give it to you no matter the time, the place, or the hour.
—
He has noticed your shy smiles, the exuberance in that glint in your eyes every time he gives voice to the praise you deserve. That color makes you bloom, he said as you headed out the door to start the car. Hmm, new shampoo today? Your hair smells wonderful, he murmured into your ear as you scooped him into your arms to settle in for bed. You’re always using that brain of yours, hm? He told you as you settled the accounts for Jujutsu Tech on a whim, manipulating the arithmetic and algebraic behind accounting with ease.
Now he moans your name in pleasure, his heartbeat speeding up to match the symphony of your own. Your legs have locked around him. Every time he feels your thighs around his waist and your limbs wrapping around him his brain explodes with pleasure and a delicious throb courses through him. He is yours; you own him, and you are his to breed.
“Kento,” you groan deeply, head twisting to the side as his fingers reach between your thighs to finger the tip of your little cocklet. “Please—wait.”
“No, no, love.” He slides his middle finger up the sensitive tip of your bulging clitoris, shuddering through a breath as you clench tight around him. “Keep using that handsome voice of yours. Make sure everyone hears how good I fuck my beautiful husband.”
Your head tilts up to force a kiss to his lips. Your tongue slides against his. He knows all your tactics, all the ways you try to stop him from saying all the things you like only because you’re too shy to hear them. He parts his lips from yours to suckle kisses along your jaw, gentle enough to leave no bruises but with enough insistence to have you shivering with delight. His cock stretches you inside as he thrusts.
For a time, he had been shy himself. Making love to you for the first and every time blew his mind, though the words of praise he wished to share with you would catch in his throat. It was when you had made love to him, moaning words of sweetness into his ear with you between his legs that cracked him. He will always remember every second of those moments: the skillful shift of your hips to angle into his sensitive, neglected prostate, the pleasured shudder of your musculature even as he knew your pleasure was derived only by the sight of your sex meeting his. After, though spent and panting from three drawn-out orgasms, he had wrestled you into bed to slip his face between your legs and drag his tongue along your slit. You had already removed the prosthetic and had drawn a bath for the two of you, but he would not heed your call for a bath and simply moved his tongue around your still-hard cocklet. He remembers the way you fought till the end, telling him to leave it be, that you could take care of it yourself, until your body had sagged with each expert movement of his desperate tongue and your wetness gushed from your hole to spill into his starved mouth. He remembers licking into you, past your overstimulation with you clawing at his shoulders, until he’d broken you into giving him a second, your moans deep and borderline exhausted.
“Kento,” you cry now, voice high-pitched. Ah, you’re close. This sensitive cocklet of yours… how he loves it.
“Mm, let it out, lovely.”
Cum on my cock, show me what it feels like. Give me your pleasure. Perhaps, one day, he will hear you say these things with your own length pumping inside him.
Your body twists as he draws an orgasm from you. “That’s it,” he moans, his thrusts slowing, deepening as his cock pulses with his own need. “Good boy. Good boy.”
Though his pace has slowed, he falls over the brink easily. His body loosens and he hunches over you to cradle you in his arms as his cock throbs to fill you up with his cum. He groans into your neck, unabashed, holding you close while your lips kiss his ear to tiredly murmur your own praise.
“Fill me up Kento,” you groan. “Fill me up.”
After, though spent, he draws a bath. He grabs the two towels designated solely for cleaning the both of you up after sex and returns to the bedroom to wipe bewteen your legs, as you have done so many times for him. You give a squeeze to his hand and murmur your thanks.
“Of course,” he says, kissing the corner of your mouth. “I’ve always got you.”
#nanami kento#nanami kento smut#nanami kento x reader smut#nanami kento x reader#nanami kento/reader smut#nanami kento/reader#nanami kento fanart#nanami x reader smut#nanami x reader#nanami kento x you#nanami kento fluff#transgender reader#ftm reader#nanami kento x male reader#nanami kento/male reader#nanami kento x trans male reader#nanami kento/trans male reader#nanami kento/ftm reader#nanami kento x ftm reader
102 notes
·
View notes
Text
Smoke On The Water (18+)
MINORS DNI
Pairing: Eddie x f!Reader
Synopsis: You teach your best friend how to shotgun.
Word Count: 3.3K
Warnings: Drug use, sex under the influence (dubcon), throat fucking, slight choking, dacryphilia, unprotected sex.
AN: first post on this account :D
Every Friday night, you’d visit Eddie and smoke all of his pot. It was routine, and despite his very clear and obvious complaints, he didn’t seem to mind that much. You’d spectate Hellfire club’s weekly game of DnD as Eddie was your ride home - he always insisted you watch. You lived in the same trailer park as him, so whenever it was too cold out to ride your bike you’d go to him.
DnD has always confused you, that’s why you never partook. You were Eddie’s best friend, you met a few months ago and ever since you’ve been attached hip to hip. He’d probably refer to you as a leach, but to you he was your platonic soulmate. Eddie never imagined himself becoming best friends with a girl two years younger than him, but it happened - he’s even friends with the younger players in Hellfire. You’re also friends with them, you think they’re cute.
“I’ll be seeing you fools on Monday,” Eddie teases the group as he backs out of the classroom. You follow him, waving goodbye to the younger boys as Eddie flashes them a devilish smirk before leaving.
Tonight, the two of you visit the store together. You like to prepare well for the session, stocking up on snacks; making sure you’re both in comfortable clothes; etc.
He buys chips, pop rocks and skittles. He slaps your hand away when you pull out some loose coins from your pocket, shooting you a warning glance. With a frown, you retreat.
Skipping happily back to his van, he watches you with a fond smile. As annoying as you were sometimes, he loves you as a best friend. He appreciates you a lot.
“Where the fuck do you keep the pot?” You ask, rummaging around in his sock drawer. “And do you have some sweatpants I can borrow?”
“Third drawer down; and, I keep it on me you dullard.” He replies, lying on his bed with an acoustic guitar on his stomach. He plays a familiar riff whilst you change into his grey sweatpants. Another thing about your relationship is that it’s very comfortable. You’ve changed around him on numerous occasions, and so has he. “Feeling frisky?” He mocks as you pull your awkwardly tight jeans down your thighs.
“Bite me, Munson.”
“Oh, we’re not even stoned yet.”
Thirty minutes and half a blunt later, you already feel like crying. Tears are brimming at your eyes after Eddie says you can have his least favourite coloured skittles. You don’t want his leftovers and you think he is incredibly mean for not sharing the good colours with you.
“You’re so mean,” you sniffle.
“I’m sorry princess but the red ones are all mine, I dibzed them first.” He says with a sigh, rolling over onto his stomach. His record player plays a Black Sabbath album quietly.
“You didn’t say shit!” You burst out, “when the hell did you say that?”
“Before you came to DnD…” he murmurs.
“So you dibzed the good candy before I even knew we were getting candy?” You sigh in frustration, throwing a green skittle at Eddie - he only adds to your annoyance as he catches it in his mouth.
“Forgive me, sweetheart.” He pouts, taking your hands into your own. You frown, unsatisfied. “I’ll give you cuddles, I know how much you like them.”
Suddenly, you beam happily. You throw yourself into his arms, lying back onto his bed with him. “Thank you Eddie,” you murmur pleasantly. He smells like cigarettes and bitter weed.
You pick up the still lit blunt from the ashtray on his bedside table. Taking a deep puff, you exhale with a long sigh.
“It’s awful,” you chuckle. “Where’d you get this shit?”
“It’s not that bad,” he reaches for the blunt but you pull it away from him. You take another hit, “It’s the same skunk as always.” Eddie says.
“Worst weed I’ve ever smoked,” you tease. Eddie tried to wrestle the joint out of your hand, but you sit up and lean away from him before he can snatch it. You end up straddling him, flashing him a devious smirk as you take hit after hit.
“My turn,” Eddie complains, but you shake your head.
“Actually, since you’re so desperate, let’s shotgun.” You say, perking up.
“I can’t drive, I'm too high,” he says with a frown.
“No,” you snort. “Shotgun, like this.” Leaning forward, you take a hit but don’t release. You lean inches away from his face, and his breath catches in his throat. His lips instantly open, quivering as he decides between kissing you or accepting the hit. He does the latter. The feeling of your lips brushing over his drives him crazy, but he knows it’s just the pot talking.
You pull away once he exhales, awkwardly tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. He meets your eyes, a grin forming on his face soon after.
“I liked that,” Eddie breathes out.
“Want my cuddles now,” you mumble, diving back into his clothed torso. “We can do it again if you’d like.”
You’re all the more conscious about his fingers brushing over yours when you finally pass him the blunt. You’re not sure if you’re sobering up (highly unlikely) or if you’re too zooted.
“I’ll do it to you, ‘kay?” He asks and you nod. His head turns to the side, leaning into you. His free hand tilts your chin up, as he slowly breathes the smoke into your mouth. You hold it for a moment, forehead pressed against his as you finally exhale it into his face. You don’t move for a while, lips ghosting over each other for a moment.
He breaks the silence by giggling. His pupils are blown out, cheeks full as he smiles widely, his hand cups your cheek. He presses the blunt to your lips, allowing you to take a hit before he takes one himself.
“You’re so comfortable, Eddie.” You murmur, exhaling the smoke.
“And you’re so cute,” he absentmindedly fires back. He doesn’t seem to regret saying it.
“Oh? Thought I was annoying?” You ask.
“God, no.” He practically whispers to you because you’re so close to him. Eddie groans when you pull away from him, grabbing his hand to put the blunt between his fingers in your mouth. You’re straddling him again, smirking down at him.
His eyes are red, eyelids low which makes him look exhausted. But he’s not, he’s bursting with energy he desperately needs to burn off.
Your attention strays from the boy underneath you to the music playing. “Need better music,” you say, abruptly climbing out of his lap. He grunts at your careless action, watching you bend over and look through his stack of records.
You grin when you put David Bowie on, dancing over back to Eddie’s bed. You crawl back on top of him, hands pressing into his chest until you finally plop back onto his lap.
To your surprise, he grabs your neck and gently pulls you down to his lips. He exhales smoke into your mouth again, and you hum in surprise. Noticing the heat fading from the blunt, you lean over and grab his lighter.
“Stop fuckin’ moving around,” Eddie breathes out. “You’re squirming. Is there something in your panties or what?”
“What’s wrong with you?“ You snort, moving around once again to put the lighter back on his nightstand.
“You won’t stop grinding on me,” Eddie groans. “You’re almost giving me a hard-on over here,” he jokes, kind of.
“Gross,” you scoff.
“Gross? Weren’t you telling me how you gave that annoying fuck on the basketball team the best head of his life a few weeks ago?” He shoots back with a smirk. “Please enlighten me sweetheart, how is my dick is gross?”
“It’s not, it’s just - you’re my best friend, the thought is weird.”
“So you’ve thought about it?” He grins, leaning forward with you in his lap. He sees you contemplating, “No need to be shy. This is what friends are for, we tell eachother everything…”
“Maybe I have,” a surge of confidence flows throughout you. “Maybe I haven’t,” you say and he frowns. “What does it matter?”
“I’ll tell you if you tell me,” he reasons with a shit-eating grin. “I know you wanna know, you wanna know so bad,” he says whilst taking a hit.
“Fine. I have a few times,” you give in with a sigh.
You reach for the blunt but he pulls it back, “ah ah ah. Describe,” he says, a sadistic smirk creeping onto his face.
“Fucker,” you whisper under your breath.
“Go on,” he prompts. He blows smoke into your face.
“Just the normal stuff…”
“Such as?”
“Y’know…” you huff and he raises a brow, signalling for you to continue. “Like how big it is…”
“Yeah?” He teases, “how big what is?”
“Fuck you Eddie, you know what I’m talking about.”
“I don’t,” he grins. “I really don’t, please continue.”
“Your dick.”
“Good girl,” he drawls out. “What else do you think about? I know it’s not just that, sweetheart.”
“What would happen to our friendship if we fucked,” you say. He finally lets you take the blunt, and you take a deep inhale. “Now you.”
“I wanna know what’s so good about your mouth that makes the assholes at school talk about it so much,” he whispers to you. You gasp lightly, which prompts him even more. “You wanna show me?”
You hesitantly nod, resting the blunt on the ashtray. You lock eyes for a moment, testing. Testing to see which one of you would break first, which one of you would kiss the other first.
Your arms wrap around his neck, and you feel his hands roam from your waist to your back. He licks his bottom lip, eyes still on yours - but they flicker to your lips for a brief moment.
“What are you waiting for?” You whisper, fingers locking in his hair.
“For that,” he replies. His lips brush over yours, teasing you. You decide to meet him halfway and finally, your lips are pressing together. He barely tastes like anything, but the smell of skunk is embedded into his whole room. His lips are wet and soft, his tongue pushes its way through your lips and licks at the roof of your mouth.
He leans back onto his bed, pulling you on top of him. Making out with Eddie is sublime, but the way he grinds his knee in between your thighs is heavenly.
“God,” he moans, along with your name. “Get this off,” he pulls at the fabric of your shirt. You both scramble to take it off, pulling it over your head. His eyes widen at the sight of your bare chest, no bra. “Fuck, it’s like you planned on seducing me,” he grins.
“You gonna resolve my thoughts?” You ask in between kisses.
“Which one?” Eddie smirks.
“Let’s start with the first…” you mumble. As payback for his annoying cockiness, your palm finds its way to his clothed crotch, causing him to gasp. Taking advantage of his open mouth, your tongue flicks at his own. He hums, or moans, but it’s a beautiful sound.
“We can kill two birds with one stone here, sweetheart. How about we satisfy my wonders too?” He whispers and you vigorously nod. He helps you out of your/his sweatpants, leaving you in your panties. He then focuses on his own hellfire shirt, pulling it off. “Off,” he commands, and you move off of him. He sits at the edge of his bed, signalling for you to kneel in front of him.
You do as you’re told, eagerly palming his crotch. He unzips his jeans, stripping into his boxers. Just the tent in his boxers has you in awe of Eddie Munson’s dick.
“Go ahead, baby.” He shifts his hips forward, letting you work your magic.
You reach into the fabric like it’s a wrapped up gift. He twitches when your hand makes contact with him, a “fuck” escaping his lips. He’s warm, thick, and longer than average. His tip is swollen and angry red, begging for attention. A drop of precum slides down his slit; it’s an erotic sight.
Starting out slowly but surely, you gather saliva on your tongue and lick his tip like a kitten. You hear him suck in a breath through his gritted teeth, so you start to suckle on him.
His fingers slide into your hair, “God, stop teasing.” He says slowly, brushing your hair back. He gathers it all in one fist, holding your ponytail back for you. “Stop being a little shit and suck my cock already,” he whispers.
You almost moan at his vulgar language, pulling back and pumping him. You look up at him innocently and you’re sure you can feel him throb between your fingers.
He groans your name sternly, “get a move on.”
You slowly take him in your mouth, taking him deeper and deeper. He notices you struggling to take his full length, so he’s waiting for you to pull back but no - you take him as deep as you can, feeling him in your fucking throat.
“Shit,” he moans out. “God, you’re full of surprises - aren’t you?” He teases. You bob your head, your eyes instantly watering at your lack of hair. “So good, princess. Keep sucking my cock like that.” You nod, you’re barely sucking anymore; just focusing on fitting his whole length down your throat.
You hear him moan, stifling it to the best of his ability. You pull away from his wet cock, watching a string of saliva stretching from it to your lips.
“What are you doing?” He breathes.
“I’ll only continue if you stop trying to hide your sounds,” you drawl.
“Well fuck, okay.” He seemed unprepared for that condition, but he does as you say. You go back down, sucking him as intensely as you can. He moans, “I didn’t think- girls like that… but fuck, y-you’re so fucking hot. You know exactly what you w-want, don’t you?” He struggled to say. You know he’s getting closer because of the way he can barely get through a sentence without stuttering.
You only hum in response.
“I wanna fuck your throat so bad,” he groans. “You gonna let me, sweetheart?” You nod, eyes locking on his own. He makes a strangled sound at the eye contact, “God you look so fucking beautiful looking up at me like that.”
You pull away, sucking on his tip again. He shuffles around, sitting up slightly. His hands let go of your hair and settle on your cheeks. He holds your head, thrusting his cock in your mouth. You both moan in unison, “I bet you like getting slapped around, don’t you?” He asks and you hum. “You’re enjoying this more than me,” he smirks. “Fuck I’m close…”
Your eyes shift between looking up at him and closing because the sheer forces of his thrusts were causing tears to slide down your cheeks.
“God, you’re crying on my cock. Have I told you.. how fucking hot you a-are?” He stumbles over his words. “If only all of our smoke- s-sessions ended like this,” he moans. “You gonna let me cum on that pretty face?” He asks through gritted teeth.
Abruptly, he pulls out of your mouth and pumps his cock, fast. His free hand tangles in your hair again, and you open your mouth wide; beckoning him to cum in your mouth.
“Want you to swallow it all, okay?” He groans and you eagerly nod. “Fuck, fuck, fuuuuck. I’m cumming, fuck.”
A thin, watery liquid lands on your tongue. It’s so much, it seems like the ropes ejaculating would never stop. You want to say, “shit Eddie, how long has it been?” But you’re too concentrated on catching it all.
“There you are,” he breathes out. “My cum dumpster,” he says with a huge grin. His finger presses your chin, signalling you to close your mouth and swallow. “Good girl, good fucking girl.”
“God damn,” you rasp. You’re both taken aback at the sound of your voice, it’s hoarse and raspy.
“Aw, have I hurt your throat princess?”
“Fuck you,” you murmur - your voice slight coming back to life. “Are you always that talkative during sex?”
“You love my dirty talk,” he says with a smirk. “Don’t you?”
“I do…” you play along. “Has this satisfied your intrigue?”
“Fuck yes,” he replies. “But I don’t know how those fuckers let you go after…”
“They try to keep me,” you simply say. “But they can’t handle me.”
“I could handle you,” Eddie mumbles.
“You already have me, Eddie.” You crawl on top of him.
“Your turn,” Eddie breathes out, fingers pulling the fabric of your panties. “I wanna see you cum,” he whispers, lips finding yours. He sucks your bottom lip, tongue licking at your lips. “On these,” he wiggles his fingers with a devilish grin.
“Sounds good to me,” you whisper back.
“God, I’m gonna be dreaming about your mouth,” he says. He pulls you close to him, you get on your knees so his face is level with your breasts. He kneads them, sucks them, kisses your chest and you can’t help but moan.
“You feel so good,” you moan.
“Need these off,” he pulls the string of your panties away from your skin and you gasp on impact. He chuckles, kissing your lips. “You’re so fucking cute.”
“Shhhh,” you whisper, “make me cum.”
“Fuck, princess,” he mumbles. He manhandles you to turn around, your back against his chest. He roughly fondles your breast, his other hand stuffing down your panties. His lips graze against your neck, fingers spreading your pussy open. His fingers rub up and down, slathering your moisture around your clit. You flinch when he finds your clit, and he continues to touch you until you get close. “You want my cock?”
“Yes, please,” you breathily beg.
“Say it. Say you want my cock.”
“Please, I want your cock so bad, Eddie.” You moan out, toes curling as he mercilessly circles your clit. “I’m so close.”
“Attagirl,” he smiles. “You can wait, can’t you princess?” He teases, sliding your panties to the side.
“Mmhmm,” you mumble, trying to escape from the painfully pleasant contact of his fingers.
“Good girl. You wanna ride me?” He speaks lowly in your ear, sending tingles down your spine.
“Yes, fuck yes,” you rasp. He pulls his fingers away, lies on his back with you on top of him. You turn around, facing him and before you know it, he’s pressing the tip against your entrance.
“Ready?”
“Yes, yes. Please put it in me, Eddie.”
He pushes himself in, you instantly clench on him. “Your begging drives me crazy,” he groans. “You’re so tight, holy fucking fuck.”
You’re waiting for him to move, but he doesn’t. “Well?” You ask.
“Well what? Fuckin’ move, goddamnit. Fuck yourself on it,” he breathes out and you flush red at the vulgar language, fuck it was so hot. You grind, hands placed on his bare chest as you rock on his dick. “That’s a good girl.”
“Like this?” You ask. It wasn’t your first time, but you felt a dire want to pleasure Eddie.
“Just like that, princess.” He says, one hand grabs at your ass, the other playing with your pussy. You moan when his thumb sternly rubs your clit again; a familiar feeling overcoming you again.
It’s not long before he has you bouncing on his cock, both of you panting as you desperately chase your release. “So close, Eddie. Fuck I-I’m, don’t stop, please,” you beg. He’s controlling your movement, his arms bounce you up and down. Waves of pleasure finally overwhelm you, and he’s kissing you to conceal your screams.
He quickly pulls out.
“Turn over,” he commands and you obey. You feel warm ropes land on your ass, and you hear a satisfied sigh. “Such a good little girl for me,” he wipes your ass clean before pulling you into his arms.
Your head falls onto his chest, hair messy and carelessly left untouched. You’re both lying in his bed again, nude and sweaty. His hands caress your back, lips kiss your forehead. “Thank you,” you sleepily mumble.
“My pretty girl.”
#eddie munson#stranger things#eddie munson x y/n#eddie munson x reader#eddie Munson/reader#eddie munson smut#stranger things smut
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
WWE Wrestlemania Night 4/7/24
I think the only matches I really care about tonight are Bailey vs Iyo and Cody vs Roman
Would be nice to see Logan Paul get punched in the face a few times, though
...there is still a pandemic on. People are just ignoring it.
I get that having Stephanie there makes a statement on lack of Vince, but wasn't she named in the lawsuit?
Drew's entrance was fun, Seth's is a bit confusing but I approve of the bright colors
That felt kind of fast and anticlimactic except for Drew tweeting
...
I do love the Judgement Day, though. Buch of goth dorks.
Bleh Bubba Ray
The I feel bad for Styles and Knight that the current loudest chant is to turn off the lights blinding the crowd, but it's still pretty funny
Tearing up at the Bray shirts
Ugh
Sami being there for Kevin like Kevin was for him last night 😭😭😭
I'm just in favor of the bottle mascot being destroyed
Oh fuck off
I love Iyo, but LET'S GO, BAYLEY
That match was fantastic
They showed the Bucks in Cody's video package!
They showed Kenny!!!
Aww, Brandi
HE HUGGED NEGATIVE ONE I'M CRYING
I do love a good orchestral performance
Lol ultimate heel move by Roman, sliding the table back under the ring
Cody once again making us participate in his kink
@weareallkosh is trying to manifest a Cody loss from the other room, on account of the chaos
I miss Roman and the Bloodline's old teeth
And here's the Bloodline to interfere
Oh hey it's Jihn Cena
About had a heart attack for the Shield
UNDERTAKER
SCREAMING AT ROMAN PICKING SETH OVER CODY
YAY
STARTED SCREAMING WITH THE SHIELD AND HOW SETH COST ROMAN THE CHAMPIONSHIP GOING BACK TO THAT BETRAYAL AND ALSO I LOVE THE CONSTANT IN WRESTLING THAT YOU WILL NEVER BE OVER BETRAYAL BUT REVENGE IS A POISON
5 notes
·
View notes
Text
Chuckie T Kisses a New Japan Hunk
Pairing: Chuck Taylor/Kazuchika Okada
Warnings/Tags: swearing, anxiety, kissing, shoot names
Words: 1.9k
Chapters: 1
Complete: Yes
Summary: Big Dust gets to kiss a New Japan hunk
Author Notes: Finally! Dustin gets what he deserves. Did I proof read this? Hell nah
Dustin was absolutely shitting himself, to put it lightly. Nearly two decades of working on the indies for sweet fuck all and getting nowhere from it had made him pretty gung-ho when it came to running his stupid little mouth. But now, what felt like overnight, he was working for a billionaire, in the same locker room as CM-fucking-Punk.
But that wasn’t even what had Dustin shitting a brick, a fist balled around his sternum so tight it felt like it would crack at any minute and he’d be left on the floor in a puddle of boneless, fleshy jelly. Dustin could crack jokes with Punk all day about both of them being former IWA Mid-South champions, and Jim was always in his ear anyway reminding him that he could hang with ex-WWF guys any day of the week.
But that cocky camaraderie had all been before this pay-per-view. Forbidden Door. Or, as Dustin liked to call it, his own personal bisexual hell. Of course nobody besides Jim knew he was bisexual, save for a few feral horny girls on tumblr who had paid a little too much mind to his casual commentary about which members of the New Japan roster he’d kiss. Most people had taken said comments as a joke, thank God, but they weren’t a joke, was the thing.
And thus was Dustin’s dilemma. As if there weren’t enough dudes he wanted to kiss in this locker room on an average work day, now fucking Kazuchika Okada was sitting across from him in catering like something out of a fever dream. All perfectly swept-back silver blonde hair and stupid kissable lips, just casually looking at his phone with one hand and eating a salad with the other. A goddamn salad. What kind of angel sent from heaven was this?
God was torturing Dustin. Either that or he was in a coma. Okada’s skin seemed to glisten even in the grim industrial lighting backstage at the United Center, and his shoulders were - impossibly - even more broad in person.
Dustin couldn’t stop ogling him, of that he was acutely aware. But no matter how much restraint he tried to exercise, he couldn’t peel his eyes off the Japanese wrestler who was a year his junior. A year younger than Dustin and regarded as one of - if not the - greatest wrestlers of all time. At least their ages were compatible, Dustin thought wishfully as he caught himself sighing and turning his eyes back down towards his food.
Finally resigned to the reality of the situation, Dustin stuffed himself full of pie (it wasn’t as though he was wrestling tonight anyway) and stole longing glances at Okada until he saw that the other man had gotten up to leave.
-
What Dustin didn’t see, however, was Okada stealing glances back at him strategically whenever Dustin looked away. Okada was much more subtle about his ogling than Dustin had been - a lifetime spent in a non-western country to blame for his discretion - but nevertheless, ogle he did. And when he got up to leave, he didn’t go far. Waiting in the shadows just beyond the exit of the catering room, planning on pulling Chuck Taylor aside as he exited.
Okada didn’t have to wait much longer, and he was relieved to see Chuck exiting catering by himself. His faction was not called Best Friends for nothing. Okada could hardly recall a time all weekend when he had seen the man by himself. And Okada had spent a lot of time observing him this weekend.
Perhaps the errant fan tweet he’d been tagged in had been an exaggeration, but by all accounts (as far as Okada could tell with the language barrier), the claims that Chuck Taylor had spoken of kissing him frequently appeared to be true.
So all weekend, Okada had observed the other man. Wondering if the comments had been a joke, if it was worth Okada taking such a potentially disastrous risk. But truth be told, Okada wasn’t sure he could resist at this point.
Chuck was so unlike other men in this industry. He was sweet and homely, with a handsome face and a dimpled smile that softened him in a way that was frankly beautiful. The softest part of him was his body though; supple love handles and a stomach that Okada should like to run his hands over in secret. To hold onto his waist and wrap his arms around such a gentle figure. Chuck was as tall as Okada and if that sent a shiver down Okada’s spine, he’d never admit it. Others would think Okada was crazy for obsessing over such a soft body, but Okada’s mind was oversaturated with svelte and muscular men. Not only were they boring, but most of them were far less beautiful than Chuck under their chiselled muscles.
So now here Chuck was, stepping by him, not seeing Okada in the shadows. With all the composure Okada could muster, he reached his arm out and clasped Chuck’s shoulder from behind, startling the other man.
-
Dustin jumped damn near out of his skin as a hand grasped onto his shoulder from the dark alcoves of the arena. Dustin spun on his heel, trying to quiet the beating of his heart because he knew this would be one of his more dramatic friends. Or Greg feeling overstimulated and trying to pull Dustin aside for some downtime without words.
Who it was, however, set Dustin’s heart aflutter all over again. His lungs burned and his stomach twisted as though he’d been confronted by a demon. But no, it was Okada’s sparkly, dark eyes that had given him this bodily reaction.
Time seemed to pass in slow motion, Dustin’s vision blurring on the edges. If there was anyone around, Dustin didn’t notice them, couldn’t hear them over the sound of blood rushing in his ears. It was just him and Okada, who seemed to have a glowing halo about his perfectly sculpted face.
Dustin licked his lips nervously, and Okada’s eyes tracked the path of his tongue attentively. Or was that Dustin’s imagination?
Okada reached out and snatched Dustin’s wrist in his hand, a movement so fluid that Dustin found himself going along with it like they were mid-match (as if Dustin would ever find himself across the ring from a god like Okada).
As Okada dragged Dustin away, he figured it was best to go along with the other man. His English was limited, but Dustin knew from his short stint in Japan that Japanese wrestlers had a kind of non-verbal language of physical gestures and keywords that they used to communicate with their English-speaking counterparts. So Dustin let Okada drag him to an empty changing room.
At some point along the way Okada’s hand had slipped from Dustin’s wrist and into his own. Dustin’s palm grew sweaty around Okada’s but he didn’t dare let go, sure that this was as close as he’d ever come to intimacy with the former IWGP Heavyweight Champion.
And then in a whirlwind, as Dustin’s head filled to bursting with the knowledge that Okada’s hands were baby soft and strong as hell, Dustin was behind a closed door in a dead-silent room with Kazuchika Okada.
Okada’s dark eyes were piercing, his sharp cheekbones eyeing him with a discerning look. Dustin felt himself gulp down his discomfort. And okay, Okada was definitely watching the way his adam’s apple bobbed when he swallowed. Jesus.
Perhaps sensing Dustin’s discomfort, Okada’s face softened. The sharp edges of his features seemed to melt away, replaced by a softness Dustin hadn’t known the other man possessed. His soft lips parted slightly and Dustin was too weakened by the anxiety of this encounter to stop himself from just plain staring at them.
They were so pillowy and he had the sweetest little cupid’s bow and- Shit. Was Okada moving closer to him?
Okada closed the distance between them in an instant, his explosivity in the ring not having been exaggerated. In an instant they were nose-to-nose, and Dustin could feel the intensity coming off the former Heavyweight Champion in heatwaves.
Holy fucking shit.
Somehow, Dustin just felt that he knew. One of those tweets about how excited Chuck Taylor must be to be surrounded by New Japan hunks all weekend must have reached Okada’s eyes. Dustin’s breath caught in his throat and his tongue felt spongy and too big for his mouth.
He was about to say something placating, or apologetic, in whatever way he could to make Okada forget this had happened.
In the darkest, most disquieted part of his brain, Dustin was picturing this whole pay-per-view falling apart because of him. If the five-time IWGP Heavyweight Champion thought Dustin was making inappropriate sexual advances towards him, that could spell the end of this entire thing. Dustin was spiralling into the depths of his anxiety, thinking of all the hard work his friends had put into this and what a massive night it was going to be for Jim, when Okada…
Okada had his hands on Dustin’s waist- Wait, his fucking waist? What was he-
Oh. OH.
Okada was kissing him. Kazuchika fucking Okada was kissing him like his life depended on it.
Okada smelled like bar soap and tea leaves, and Dustin grew drunk on it almost immediately. His mouth tasted of the vinaigrette dressing from his salad and his fingertips dug into Dustin’s squishy love handles.
Dustin wasn’t sure why he was expecting this to be a chaste affair, but he certainly wasn’t complaining when Okada deepened the kiss, his sweet tongue about as polite as a tongue could be when entering another person’s mouth.
Dustin finally remembered to kiss back at that point, his hands weaving their way between his and Okada’s bodies and finding refuge on top of Okada’s firm pecs. It was such a delicious contrast to Okada’s soft lips that Dustin moaned involuntarily. He felt his cheeks warm and his eyes flashed open, just in time to see Okada watching the reddening of his face.
That earned him a playful nip under his jaw from Okada, whose hands were roaming Dustin’s body now. Dustin jumped as Okada’s hand found Dustin’s stomach, caressing him gently there. Of all the parts of his body he expected Okada to like, his stomach was the last one he would have considered. But here Okada was, working open Dustin’s mouth and clutching onto his love handles like his life depended on it.
Again to Dustin’s surprise, Okada only reeled him in closer, wrapping one arm around Dustin’s middle and placing a firm but gentle hand on the small of Dustin’s back.
Okada pressed their bodies flush together, so Dustin trailed his hands upwards so that they didn’t get trapped. They ended up around Okada’s neck awkwardly, so Dustin made the quick decision to lean into it and just wrap them around Okada’s neck for real.
When they finally parted, Okada leaned back in to place a chaste peck on Dustin’s lips. His dark eyes were full of a mirth that Dustin had never seen on the younger man, but it suited him. His silvery hair and cheekbones sparkled and Dustin leaned in instinctively and pecked him back.
Okada let out a chuckle from low in his belly.
“Someone told me you want to kiss me,” Okada said breathlessly. Dustin nodded stupidly, while Okada continued, “Maybe I want to kiss you too.”
Maybe God wasn’t punishing him after all. Maybe he was finally catching a break.
#this was meant to be a crack fic#chuck taylor/kazuchika okada#chuck taylor#sexy chuckie t#kazuchika okada#chuck taylor fanfic#njpw#aew#forbidden door
16 notes
·
View notes
Text
Okay my brain is just RIFE with Gallahir ideas right now. I would appreciate it if you switch back into Star Wars mode though, please and thank you.
I'm going to try and get some writing done on Seeds tomorrow. I wanted to do it tonight but I felt so guilty for working through Christmas and my mom was home alone. Her new boyfriend had to go to work, I had to work so I ended up going over to her house after work for a late-night dinner between the two of us.
And now I'm home and I think I've slipped into a minor depressive fugue state because well....that was a pretty miserable birthday. It sucks being born in Christmas to begin with so I'm always kinda lowkey depressed and bummed out because my birthday gets overshadowed by Christmas. But working on my birthday on top of it has definitely left me...bleh. I desperately need the extra money though so I hope it'll be worth it on my next paycheck.
I also did not take a single fucking call all day so talk about what a waste of time. Sure, most of it was spent offline but wtf I'm not going to call and pester people on Christmas. :/ Every call I did make, not a single person picked up either which isn't surprising. Cause talk about hella sketch. I did end up closing a half-dozen accounts which were clearly fraud but I also wrestled with guilt and feeling like the grinch for cutting off people's lines. But realistically they were all clear fraud, no one was using the lines, most were never even activated but still, yanno? Bleh, bleh, bleh.
I think I'm just going to call it quits and go to sleep early. Hopefully I feel less like shit tomorrow.
1 note
·
View note
Text
Anthony’s Stupid Daily Blog (118): Sat 9th Jul 2022
I was sat in McDonalds this evening and heard a guy go up to the counter and say “Hiya. What McDonalds have you got?”. Now that's a loaded question
The big wrestling news this week is that details of Vince McMahon's numerous affairs and payouts of "hush money" have emerged including allegedly paying a former female wrestler to keep quiet about the fact that he forced her to perform oral sex on hm. I can't say I'm surprised to be honest, I've been expecting some sort of scandal like this for years. A guy with an ego as big as VInce's was bound to have some secrets that threatened to take him down. What's even crazier is that by all accounts he seems to be acting as if this this massive scandal isn't happening at all. He hasn't even fucking denied any of the allegations he's just hoping that the entire thing just blows over. I've been hoping that something would force Vince McMahon out of power (Ideally his death) for a while now but obviously I didn't want the thing that toppled Vince to be the fact that he has abused women and bought their silence. For year's I've resented Vince for the countless careers he's ruined and for denying me the chance to see a great wrestling product so the fact that he's now been put on the naughty stool in a very public way makes me optimistic that maybe he won't be around for much longer.
Tonight Luna, Lacey and Lauren were staying over and we played a bunch of board games (Well me, Lauren and Lacey did, since Luna is only three she doesn't quite have the patience to learn board game rules and so she mostly spent her time pissing around with the pieces and messing up the cards we were using. The three of us had a couple of games of Cluedo and remarkably nobody won, not even my sister who is a qualified criminologist. After this we played the stupid Guinness World Records board game that I bought for Lacey. You get points for either answering world record based trivia questions or completing a task but the tasks are lame as fuck. One of them is to do fifteen one handed claps in 30 seconds but they're so easy to do that Lauren managed to do 15 of them in about 10 seconds. How is that a challenge to anyone except Christopher Reeve? Next time the kids are over I'll have to come up with some Taskmaster-esque challenges for them to do in order to get points in order to make the game actually interesting.
0 notes
Text
Late Night Encounters Part 3
Pairing: Fred Weasley x Fem!Reader
Warnings: SMUT!! Female receiving oral, unprotected vaginal penetration
Word Count: 3.5K
A/N: It’s my birthday so I didn’t proofread this!! I’m sorry!!
Once again, Fred had a date. He woke up that morning and remembered every bit of what he had said, and stood by his words. He told Y/N he still wanted to see the ring on the table when he got home. He wanted her to think about it for at least 24 full hours before she made a decision.
Y/N and Fred had narrowly missed each other that morning. He was off running errands for the day and she had only just woken up. He was home for lunch and she was out with Hermione. Y/N felt her heart sink, feeling guilty for wanting to see him. Why guilt, though? She didn’t feel like she had a valid reason to feel guilty. After she got home from lunch Fred had already left for his date, so she fell asleep on the couch in the living room, figuring it was a good way to pass the time until she saw her new best friend again.
“Why was this on the kitchen table?” George asked, waking Y/N up out of her sweet, dreamless sleep on the couch. He was holding the ring.
“I can’t sleep with jewelry on.” She shrugged, getting up and going to grab the ring. He held it up higher. She almost laughed until she saw the look on his face.
“I’m serious.” She sighed heavily at this.
“I know, George.”
“You know what?” The audacity that men have.
“I know you’re sleeping with her again.”
“W-what?” He almost dropped the ring.
“I just don’t get it, George.”
“I w-wouldn’t do that again.”
“Except you are.”
“Why are you accusing me right now?”
“Because I’m not dumb! Just because I trust you doesn’t mean I’m dumb! I’m not naive. The first time, sure. This time, no! It’s the same as last time, but you thought I’d stay with you just because you proposed this time! Maybe I won’t, did you think about that? What if you get her pregnant? Did you just expect me to stay around and raise the kid? Or what if we both get pregnant, who are you leaving alone with their child?”
“I cannot believe this right now--”
“Stop that! Stop it! You’re gaslighting me! You know I’m right! Stop lying!”
“Fine!”
“How long?”
“A year.”
“So immediately after we got back to where we were.”
“Yes.”
“Why? What did I do? Why am I not enough for you?”
“Maybe if you--”
“Actually, no, fuck you. I’m enough for me. I’m enough for so many people. I gave you a second chance and you fucking blew it! I’ve done so much for you, for Fred, too!”
“I--” He sighed. He was speechless. It was the first time you’d really fully stood up for yourself. It was on him, he knew that. “I think...I’m going to spend the night at the Burrow, and we’ll talk about it tomorrow.”
“No.”
“What?”
“Go, spend the night with her, but don’t lie to me and say you’re staying with your mom.” She spoke bluntly, tears streaming out of her eyes quietly. It was a silent cry, the only way Y/N ever allowed herself to cry in front of people. He hesitated, but he turned around and left the living room. Y/N entered the kitchen, starting to grease pans for baking.
-
Fred came home that night, mostly confused. Y/N wasn’t in the living room tonight, which didn’t make him feel great. That wasn’t the worst of it though. The date was great. She was perfect, but...he hated it. Something was missing. As she listed off interests, favorite movies, her favorite quidditch team...all he could think was that something was missing. When he got home, and Y/N was missing, it dawned on him. It was her. She was missing. The girl had listed off all of Y/N’s favorite movies, her favorite songs. She liked to bake. Her favorite quidditch team was the Holyhead Harpies, the team his little sister played on. Suddenly, Fred felt rather sick. He can’t have feelings for his brother's girlfriend--no, fiance!
With a pit in his stomach, he walked into the kitchen, where he opened his eyes wide. The entire kitchen table and window sill were covered in baked goods. There was one clean counter, where Y/N sat staring off into space, waiting for her next round of cookies to finish.
“Oh! I forgot! I’m sorry, how was the date?”
“What’s wrong?”
“Oh nothing--”
“Don’t, please don’t close yourself off. We’re close now, just let me in. What happened, what’s with the baked goods?” He asked, leaning with his arms crossed and his back against the island counter across from where she sat. He noticed the ring was missing, it wasn’t on Y/N’s finger, it wasn’t on the counter or the table where he’d seen it last.
“He admitted it. He’s cheating on me with her again.” She sighed, looking to the ceiling and holding back tears. “And it sucks so hard to know he wasted all this time of mine again. He proposed to me. I know he’s your brother, but that’s just so...crazy. Who does that?” She paused, and just as Fred was about to talk she kept going. “And the worst part is that I don’t...I don’t feel anything. The first time he cheated with Angelina it was like my whole world came crashing down. He was my best friend, my boyfriend, and my roommate. Now, it barely even feels like we’re roommates. I thought I could love him the same way after it all, and maybe he cheated because I couldn’t.”
“Don’t blame yourself. Cheating is always a decision. If he realized you didn’t love him the same way he should have communicated with you. Broken up. Not proposed and delayed this.” Fred sighed. Y/N wouldn’t make eye contact with Fred, assumingly because she was upset.
“I--” She paused, chest tight. She looked up at Fred, making blatant eye contact. “What if I’ve been emotionally cheating?” Fred’s eyes widened and his heart sank. He felt awful, like his feelings for her would just have to go away again. Right as they were getting close.
“W-what? With who?”
“You fucking idiot.” She sighed, pushing herself off the counter. She went to walk away, but Fred put his arms on either side of her on the counter, pinning her where she was.
“Don’t walk away.” He whispered, so close to her face. Her heart pounded.
“I--” She sighed. “Fred, I’ve felt more for you in the past five days than I’ve felt for George in the past year and a half. I waited all day for you to be here, and I kept feeling guilty for it. I’ve felt so guilty, and then I find out he’s cheating and I’m so numb to it because you’re all I can think about.” She paused to breathe before she continued her quick ramblings. “Also, the idea of having feelings for you is so weird, because we only just started to like each other, but you’re standing so close to me and all I can hear is my heart pounding in my ears. I can’t stop thinking about all the girls you used to bring home and how I don’t want to be just one of those girls you sleep with. But obviously I can’t just be with you because I think I just broke off my engagement with your brother and also because you haven’t said anything--” So Fred, in his overwhelmed state, pushed forward and pressed his lips against hers. She grabbed both sides of his face as he grabbed her hips. After a few moments, he quickly pulled apart, moving one of his hands to keep her hand on his face in place
“I couldn’t tell you the other night, but I had feelings for you that summer before the war, but you were with George. I couldn’t...I couldn’t just confess then, and besides you were so happy with him. Then we didn’t like each other, and the night before you got engaged I couldn’t stop thinking about you all over again. And...George made us spend all that time together and you’re the only thing I think about. The girl I went on the date with was so perfect, but I couldn’t get you off my mind and I realized she was just like you. But she wasn’t. She wasn’t you, no one will ever be you.” Fred spoke in a hushed tone with his eyes closed, as if speaking any louder or seeing her would make Y/N evaporate into thin air. Slowly, he opened his eyes to see her with tear tracks down her face.
“I don’t think anyone’s ever said anything that nice to me before.” She whispered, taking the hand that wasn’t trapped by his and wiping her face. He giggled, letting go of her hand and using both of his hands to hold the sides of her face. He leaned forward and kissed the tear stains on Y/N’s face. “You’re like this perfect man, it’s so wildly different from George.” She mumbled.
“I can’t account for where he went wrong, and I haven’t always been great. But if you give me the chance, I will love you better than anyone else could dream of.” With tears streaming down her eyes she pulled him in to kiss her again, he smiled against her lips. He held the small of her waist as she rested one of her hands on his chest, the other sat at the back of his neck playing with his hair. He moaned when she pulled it gently, causing her to smile into their kiss. She almost missed being able to see him rolling his eyes at her smirk.
“Love me, please. Tonight, tomorrow, every day. Just--love me tonight.” She whispered against his lips as they panted for air.
He leaned down, kissing her again as he grabbed the back of her thighs and lifted her back to a sitting position on the counter. Y/N threaded her fingers through Fred’s hair, one of Fred’s hands was on her thigh, the other rested on her waist. Finally, she bit his bottom lip in an attempt to get him to do anything. In response, he gave a noise that sounded between a groan and a growl, moving to her neck to leave bite marks. He licked the shell of her ear and bit the lobe as he moved down to the length of her neck, sucking hard. She moaned softly, whimpering when he used he grazed his teeth over her neck.
She started grinding her hips against his in an attempt to get some friction. He grabbed her hips, pulling her closer to him to aid in her plight for friction. After he felt satisfied with the bruises he’d left on her neck he went back to her lips, sucking on her bottom lip briefly before licking it in a silent asking of permission to use it. She gracefully licked his tongue, granting his own tongue admission to her mouth. Their tongues wrestled messily, Y/N playing with Fred’s hair and occasionally pulling softly to hear him moan. She was starting to feel frustrated with just grinding, so she moved the hand that was on the side of Fred’s face to gracefully feel all the way down his body before she started palming him through his slacks. He gave a harsh groan this time, pulling apart from her mouth briefly.
“You’re so beautiful, so sexy.” His voice was deep with pleasure and she moaned at the sound alone. Her heart swelled, she hadn’t been praised like that sexually...ever. Fred took one of his hands off of her hips to thread into her hair, pulling gently to hear her moan. He swore to himself that he could hear that every minute of every day and never get tired of it. While Fred knew he was going to fuck her, his intentions were pure-- he wanted to make love to her. Y/N, however, was getting frustrated with his politeness. She started to unbutton his slacks and he broke off their kiss again. “Hold on, I want to take care of you.” He whispered, flush against her lips.
“I appreciate that, but I want you inside of me.” She whispered, her hand that had been unbuttoning his pants was now tangled in his shirt. Fred felt his heart drop to his cock when she said this, groaning at her lack of restraint. Y/N started unbuttoning his shirt as he separated her thighs and pulled her completely to the edge of the counter.
“You’ll just have to be patient, princess.” He grinned as he went to crouch, kissing her knee on the way down. He left kisses all over the inside of her thighs, leaving her soaked to the core before he had even really touched her. Both Fred and Y/N were thankful she was wearing a dress that day, making his access considerably easier as he rubbed her through only her thin panties. Kissing the inside of her thigh as he looked up into her eyes, he felt like the luckiest man alive. He almost grinned when he saw she was adorning another pair of fruit covered panties.
“You know, I wasn’t kidding when I said the cherry panties were sexy,” He smirked up at her, rubbing circles into her clit through peach covered cotton. “These are sexy too, but I think they’d look a lot better on the floor.” He grabbed the cotton on her hips and pulled them down, leaving them on the floor like he promised. Y/N’s thighs were shaking from all the teasing he had done already. He licked from her inner knee to where he promised to take care of her, latching his mouth onto her clit. She gasped at the feeling of his warm tongue, closing her eyes. He used his tongue to create figure-8’s against her clit, and slowly pushed one finger into her. At this, she threw her head back, resting the crown of her skull gently against the cabinet behind her. She laced her fingers through Fred’s hair, now pulling hard. He groaned in his own pleasure, creating vibrations against her clit which in turn made her moan. He pushed a second finger into her, slowly pumping them as he worked her clit. After adding a third finger, her legs were shaking violently, showing she was nearing the edge. He quickly swapped his fingers and tongue, using his thumb to rub circles against her clit and sticking his tongue as deep as he could inside of her warm pussy. He had his other arm wrapped around her thigh, one of her hands reaching to hold the hand there as she neared her end even faster than before.
“I want you to say my name when you cum, baby, can you do that for me?” He paused briefly, looking up at her, she nodded vigorously. His tongue returned to it’s warm reserve inside of her. The motions he made with his thumb against her clit became faster, and soon enough she was squeezing his hand and nearly screaming his name. Fred waited for her to stop squeezing his hand to stand up and kiss her on the lips again. “You did so good, baby.” He whispered against her lips.
“Freddy,” She whimpered against his lips. “You haven’t even fucked me yet and I don’t think I’ll be able to walk.” She almost laughed at the thought. He grinned, happy with his work so far. He tucked a strand of her behind her ear, kissing her ear as he spoke.
“You won’t need to, baby. I’ll fuck you right here,” He started licking and kissing her neck again, making her whine. “And I’ll take care of you so you don’t have to walk.” He whispered against her quickly bruising flesh. She whined again, reaching to finish her job unbuttoning his shirt and unzipping his already unbuttoned pants. He let her continue as he wrapped his hand in her hair once and pulled back, exposing the front of her neck to him where he continued his attack. When she finished unbuttoning his shirt he helped her pull it off his shoulders, exposing his freckled and scarred skin on his chest to her. She rubbed her hands against his chest, feeling every individual scar and wondering where each of them came from. He watched her eyes dart around, a small closed-lip smile adorning her face as she felt the raised white scars. He rubbed his thumb against her cheek softly, loving his own view. Using the same hand that was petting her cheek, he lifted her face to look up at his. He pulled her face close to his own and kissed her softly.
“I love you, Y/N.” He whispered against her lips with his eyes closed. She smiled, reaching her face up to kiss his eyelids. Angel kisses on his blonde eyelashes. It was a sweet moment, to remind them both that not only was there no going back after what they were about to do, but also to remind them that this wasn’t just fucking. This was real, unadulterated love. He opened his eyes, looking deeply into hers as she pushed his slacks and boxers down as far as she could with her hands, using her bare feet the rest of the way. He lifted her dress over her head, tossing it somewhere behind him, inevitably landing on some type of baked good. She rested one hand against his jaw, pulling his face close to hers, her other hand pumping his cock and gently rubbing the tip. He closed his eyes, letting out a deep breath at the feeling of her small hand around him. He rested one hand on her jaw, mirroring her. His other hand rested on the small of her back to push her closer to him. They kissed gently, feeling like this moment was fragile and could be broken. Y/N moved the hand that was on his cock and squeezed his bicep, quietly communicating that she was ready. He moved his hand from the small of her back to line himself up with her entrance, and as he pushed in the both gasped quietly at the feeling. Fred rested his forehead on Y/N’s shoulder, eyes closed as he waited quietly and politely for her to adjust to his size. After a few moments she tapped him to tell him to move, her eyes squeezed tightly closed for preparation of any pain that would come from his movements. He moved slowly, truly taking this moment to get to know Y/N’s body. He felt every groove inside of her, every dip and small raise in her skin, memorising her inside and out. As they both started to get used to this puzzle-piece moment in which it felt like the clicking of soul-mates finally coming together, they started kissing again. Fred’s tongue entered her mouth, exploring, dead set on memorising her entire body. Her hands found themselves resting on his back, nails digging in every so often. If this had been her sex dream, she would’ve been wondering how many girls had dug their nails into his back, but in person all she could think about was him. He filled her every sense, she could smell him, feel him everywhere, taste him, his freckled skin stuck on her eyes even when they closed, and their shared moans overwhelmed her ears. If this was what making love was, she definitely had never shared that with George.
Fred lowered his hand, rubbing her clit gently as his pace got faster. He wasn’t sure if he had ever felt so good so quickly, he was almost positive he hadn’t ever felt his high come so quickly. As he pounded into Y/N’s g-spot and rubbed her clit, she found herself loudly moaning. Her nails were now leaving deep marks into Fred’s back, and Fred hadn’t even noticed.
“Fred,” She moaned his name loudly, the sound of which made his own high come even faster. Set on finding their highs together, they were flush together. Y/N nor Fred had never been so close to someone, their entire bodies touching. Her legs were wrapped around him, her torso flush against his and her face buried into his chest. His face was buried into her neck, leaving occasional kisses to avoid his own moans. Quickly, they found their highs together. After hitting her g-spot so many times, she warned him. He quietly thanked Godric, his own high coming as well. So as they came together, panting, completely embraced, they felt loved. They’d both felt fucked-out before, but this felt different. This felt simultaneously heavy and weightless on their hearts, and they stayed together for a long time. They kissed quietly, Fred not really wanting to leave her, and she not wanting him to leave her either. Before he pulled out she spoke.
“I love you too, Freddy.”
Tag list: @fredshufflepuff @melonoptimist @phelps-weasley-twins @maybeisthemoon @groovynachos @katllol @manuosorioh @brownieparker @superblyspeedydragon @packmentalityx @missryerye @p0gue420 @hogwartshomiehopper @skarlettmikaelson @seppys-return-to-madness @fandomscombine @wzardweasley @eattheboat @mgchaser @borhap-boiiii @gabiconstellation @hardpartybasketballshepherd @superpowereddonut @sukunas-cult-leader @whysoseriousssssssss @skateb0red @urgingforyou @lookscutebutwillfight
permanent tag list: @potters-heart @0x0spunky-monkey0x0
#Fred and George#fred weasley#Fred Lives#fred weasley smut#fred x reader#fred weasley x reader#george weasley#george weasley smut#george x reader#george weasley x reader#Ron Weasley#ron x hermione#ron weasly imagine#ron weasly x reader#weasley twins#Harry Potter#harry potter au#Harry Potter x Ginny Weasley#harry potter x y/n#Neville Longbottom#neville x luna#neville longbottom smut#neville longbottom x reader#neville x y/n#charlie weasley x reader#weasley#late night encounters
756 notes
·
View notes
Text
Bet
JJ Maybank x Reader
Reposting from my deleted account with minor edits.
Not my photo. All credit to original poster @pop-punk-maybank <3
"You wanna put some stakes on this, Maybank?" You asked, feeling especially cocky.
"You think you can beat me at beer pong?" JJ asked incredulously. You had to admit it was pretty arrogant of you to think you could beat JJ, aka beer pong king of OBX.
"Oh, I know I can babe." You doubled down. JJ smirked.
"Alright, what do I get when I win?" JJ asked confidently, putting his hands on the table and purposely flexing his muscles as he leaned forward.
"Whad'you want?"
JJ smiled. "After the game is over, you have to jump off the dock, into the marsh." You frowned. You were a little let down by the anti-climatic nature of his dare; it was unlike the blonde.
"I didn't bring a bathing suit." You quickly retorted, shaking your head, knowing that wasn't an option.
“Yeah, I know. You aren’t wearing a bra either.” JJ smiled devilishly. A chorus of “oohs” came from the group that was gradually gathering around. Your mouth dropped open a little.
You closed your mouth and glared at JJ for a second. “Bet.” You said and gasps of disbelief and giggles left the small crowd. Even JJ raised his eyebrows, a little surprised at your answer, but he regained his confident front quickly. “And if I win, you have to show me the video Pope took of you from last weekend.”
JJ immediately dropped his smirk. Pope and John B shared glances, obviously knowing what JJ says/does in the video. “Yeah, that’s not happening.” JJ said looking away.
“Only if you lose.” You reminded him and JJ looked up at you. “What? Is JJ Maybank scared to lose at beer pong to a chick?” You challenged.
Laughs and more “oohs” came from the small group of party-goers.
JJ looked at you for a minute. “Fuck it. Fine. Let’s do it.”
The game got set up.
“Last chance to back out, Y/L/N. You ready?”
“I’m always ready for your JJ.” You teased. He shook his head, knowing the tactic of trying to distract him with flirting all too well. You looked at each other in the eyes and took the first shot at the same time to see who would go first. Your ball bounced off the rim of the solo cup and of course, JJ’s sunk in one. You took a breath in and JJ smiled and cocked his head at you.
“Get used to passing those back to me, Y/N/N, because you’re not gonna keep them at all tonight.”
“Yeah, keep talking shit, JJ. We know this is the only way you’re scoring tonight.”
JJ’s first shot of course went right in. “Drink up, babe”
You smiled and grabbed the first cup, downing it easily. “How’s losing taste?” He asked, getting cockier by the second.
“Just shoot your shot.”
He does and sinks another one, shit-eating grin only growing more. “Balls back.” He smirked. You glared for the umpteenth time that night, but matched his smirk as you rolled the balls back and downed another cup.
“You regretting this bet now?” JJ asked as he sunk another one.
“There’s a lot of game left, Maybank.” You continued feigning confidence.
Finally, JJ misses one. “Fuck” JJ whispers under his breath. “Alright, Y/L/N, let’s see what you got.”
You shot and made it, grinning at JJ. “Okay, okay. it’s just one.” JJ says and gulps down the first drink. You sink another one. “Balls back.” You smile.
You waste no time sinking the 3rd one. “Getting nervous, J?” You ask. But before he can answer, you’re missing your 4th shot, “Not really.” JJ replies cooly.
The game went on and of course... JJ won.
“Never shoulda bet against me, Y/L/N.” JJ gloated smugly. “I definitely should have raised the stakes though, because jumping into the marsh with your clothes on isn’t really that satisfying for me.”
“Who said I was gonna keep my clothes on?” You asked seductively as you shimmied out of your denim shorts, but leaving your cheeky underwear on. JJ gaped at you for a second before regaining composure and smirking at you. You turned your back to him and took your top off before swan diving off the dock.
“Fuck that’s cold!” You yelled when you resurfaced and approached the ladder to get back on the dock. JJ had a towel ready for you, but when you went to grab it, JJ pulled it back, just out of reach with that shit-eating grin on his face. You shot daggers at him with your eyes.
“First, say: ‘JJ is the sexiest, funniest, smartest guy I know and I was completely wrong for thinking I could beat him at anything.”
If looks could kill, JJ Maybank would be one dead pogue from the scowl you were giving him.
“Fuck that. JJ, give me the fucking towel.” You said reaching for it again and not realizing your bare chest was coming out of the water. JJ smirked down at you and licked his lips, before you threw your arm over your chest to cover your boobs. He chuckled to himself, “The water really is cold, huh?” he teased,
“JJ.” You said sternly.
“You gotta say it.”
You inhaled deeply, “JJ’s the sexiest, funniest guy and I was wrong for thinking I could beat him.” You muttered and slurred quickly under your breath.
“What was that Y/N/N? I didn’t hear you.”
“Fuck you ...JJ is the sexiest, funniest, smartest guy I know and I was wrong-”
“Completely!” JJ clarified.
“-completely wrong for thinking I could beat him. Now give me the fucking towel, Maybank.”
JJ held the towel out, unfolded so it completely covered the view of you climbing the ladder so no one could see you, but he didn’t turn away, instead he kept eye contact with you even as you struggled to cover your boobs while climbing up the ladder. Once you emerged, he wrapped the towel around you and smiled. You held the towel around you as you kept eye contact with JJ a little longer than usual. You looked away first and cleared your throat. Getting nervous, you stuck your hand out for a handshake. “Good game, Maybank.”
“Good game, Y/L/N.” He said sweetly. And with his guard down, you easily pushed him off the dock and into the water. You laughed as did a lot of the party who witnessed it.
JJ surfaced, “Oh you are so dead, Y/N! You know that right?” JJ said dangerously as he quickly paddled over to the ladder and you started to retreat.
-
You and JJ ended up in a tickle/wrestling match, after he chased you. And as the party continued, JJ only seemed to cling to you more. You couldn’t help but think that maybe the relationship between you two was more than just shameless flirting, that maybe it could be something more. JJ let you borrow some of his clothes after you both ended up in the marsh, so you could be warm and comfy. You were in his lap with is arms around your waist, sitting around the fire, when your brother texted that he was on his way to pick you up.
“Time to go?” JJ whispered to you, resting his chin on your shoulder as he read the text on your phone.
“Yep, it’s that time.” You sighed and leaned into him for just a second before standing up. JJ followed you away from the fire. “So I’ll see you tomorrow night at the movie thing? I’ll bring back your hoodie all washed.”
“Oh no, don’t worry about it. Looks better on you anyway.” JJ smiled as he brought a hand up to your cheek and ran his thumb along your jaw. You couldn’t suppress the butterflies swarming your stomach. You both looked down at the other’s lips when a horn honked loudly.
Both of your heads snapped in that direction and JJ’s hand immediately fell from your cheek. “Y/N let’s go!” Your brother yelled from his truck
Now, Jj was the one who cleared his throat awkwardly, “Okay, so yeah, I’ll see you tomorrow.”
You laughed at the awkwardness of the situation, “Bye”
JJ bit his lip, shoving his hands in his pockets and smiling before turning back to the party.
You walked over to your brother’s truck. “I’m just gonna go inside and go to the bathroom real quick.”
This earned an eye roll from your brother.
When you walked out of the bathroom and out of the Chateau, you saw JJ grabbing a drink from the cooler ...and he wasn’t alone. Your heart sank as you saw him handing a girl you’d never seen before a drink, both smiling and laughing before JJ followed the girl and sat next to her around the fire.
Maybe it was all in your head. Would JJ Maybank actually be more interested in you than just a friend he flirted with? He did flirt with everyone after all. You just thought maybe it was different with you. Did it really only take 5 minutes for him to move on to the next girl?
“Hey, you okay?” A voice asked, pulling you out of your heartbreaking thought spiral. It was Pope. He was headed inside to get some water. Pope followed your gaze to where JJ and the girl were, the tears in your eyes threatening to slip out.
“What?” You asked after not really processing what he said as you finally broke your gaze off JJ and looked at Pope who gave you a sympathetic smile. “Yeah, I’m fine!” You said wiping your eyes. “My brother’s waiting to take me home, so I gotta go. I’ll see you tomorrow?” You sniffled.
Pope smiled sweetly, “Yeah, see you then Y/N.”
You got into your brother’s truck and he started driving back to your house when you got a text from Pope.
Pope: I know you lost, but I’m gonna show it to you anyway.
Then another text came through, this one was a video. The video of JJ from last weekend.
In the video, all 3 boys were out in the hammocks, visibly drunk, or high ...or both. JJ being the worst of the 3.
Pope was holding the phone. “So JJ, your turn: who’s the one girl on the island for you?”
JJ scoffed drunkenly and it was clear that he didn’t know Pope was filming: “Bro, obvusly it’s Y/N/N dude. Y/F/N fucking Y/L/N. I’d simp so hard for that girl. ...I just want to buy her flowers. I think she likes peenie...ponies...pennies ..whas it called?”
“You mean peonies?” Pope clarified. John B looked at Pope and realized he was filming and gave Pope a knowing smile.
“Yeah those. Penonies, pen- whatever. I just want to treat her like a princess. Like sleeping beauty ...Y/N loves taking naps. Or Belle... she reads a lot n stuff ...or ooh Ariel, that’s the one. She’s just like Ariel ...like a mermaid.”
“Y/N has y/h/c hair” Pope stated but JJ ignored this.
“Yeah anything else, J?” John B asked wanting JJ to continue.
“I dunno dude. I just want to brush her hair n feed her grapes.”
John B and Pope couldn’t help but laugh, “Feed her grapes?” John B asked laughing.
“Yeah, dud-” and with that JJ finally turned and realized Pope was filming, “Arr you fucking recording this?!” JJ asked starting to reach over and wrestle with Pope.
“Oh my god. I cannot wait to show this to Y/N.” Pope laughed.
There was more wrestling between JJ and Pope before the video stopped.
You smiled down at your phone. “Thanks Pope <3″ you replied back.
Taglist: @railmerafe @moniamaybank @hernameisnoell @moonrisebeach @october-cameron @abbyj1822
#jj maybank#jj maybank x reader#jj maybank x y/n#jj x reader#jj x y/n#JJ fluff#jj outer banks#Outer Banks#outer banks imagine#obx#obx fanfiction
636 notes
·
View notes
Text
No Strings Attached
A commission for the lovely @hearteyes-candyskies, hope you like it bby! 💕
Bokuto Koutarou x female reader
TW Age gap, power imbalance, manipulation, toxic behaviour, nsfw(ish)
Three months ago, you would have laughed at the very idea of having a sugar daddy.
Then again, three months ago you were still living with your boyfriend and had a steady paycheck coming in every week. You can blame losing the latter on bad luck and an asshole boss, but the former-
You knew your relationship with your ex was far from perfect, but coming home from losing said job to find him buried balls deep in your next door neighbour was a bit of a slap in the face.
Needless to say, in the space of a few days you were out a job, a boyfriend and an apartment. Which, somewhat inevitably, led to you being six wines deep, slumped over your best friend’s bed, sobbing over the wreckage of the life you’d built, suddenly ripped out from beneath you.
You can’t really remember whose idea it was, only giggling drunkenly between yourselves as Misuzu set up your ‘sugar baby’ profile. “Shh, no this is gonna be great,” she’d said, hitting at the hands that tried to grab back your phone. “Meet some hot rich old dude, ride a little dick, let him shower you in cash; all your problems? Poof, sorted!”
And even with the heady, rose tinted haze of your wine fuelled inebriation, you knew that it was just a joke, a bit of stupid fun born more out of an attempt to cheer you up than a viable plan to get the tattered remains of your life back on track. Calling some old creepy dude ‘daddy’ and pretending to love him (not to mention the whole letting him fuck you thing) just for a little money wasn’t exactly your idea of a good time.
Plus, you were fairly sure that you weren’t what most people had in mind when they thought ‘sugar baby’. It wasn’t ever meant to be anything serious, just dumb, drunken fun with your friend.
So when you woke the next day a little after mid morning with a head full of regrets and a pounding headache, the last thing you expected was to find a message from BigDaddyKou82 waiting for you, better sense told you to ignore it.
Honestly, you didn’t really want a sugar daddy, your love life was enough of a mess without throwing in a power imbalance like that.
You should have ignored the message, deleted it or shot him a quick reply politely explaining that you weren’t interested so you could put it out of your mind, and you would have-
If Misuzu hadn’t caught sight of the message first, snatching the phone out of your hand with a gleeful shriek.
—
If you’ve learned anything in these past months, it’s that Bokuto Koutarou doesn’t do anything by half measures. So when he tells you he’s booked dinner for the two of you at an upscale restaurant in the city, you should have expected the package that’s hand delivered right to the door of your shitty little apartment. The dress is beautiful, expensive - though you could tell that just from the elegant matte black box wrapped in golden ribbon it arrives in. It’s exactly his style; short, revealing and just dancing along the edge of impropriety, not that that’ll bother him in the slightest.
But it is gorgeous, and loathe as you are to admit it, it flatters you well.
It’s not the first time that he’s bought you clothes, your tiny closet’s almost overflowing with pieces he’s gifted you. He likes seeing you in the things he’s bought, sometimes a little too much, you think. But you’ve learned it’s better just to go along with it - he gets this wide eyed, beaming grin whenever he sees you dressed in the pretty things he’s bought you, and the sight of it never fails to make your cheeks heat, warmth curling in your stomach.
The dress was not unexpected. The soft, lacy lingerie that comes in the accompanying box, on the other hand - that was new.
And of course, you barely have time to unwrap your gift when your phone flashes to life, an incoming call from the man himself.
“D’ya like it?”
The giddy excitement in his voice is unmistakable, and if you close your eyes you can picture the look on his face - golden eyes all hooded and hungry, that glittering, eager grin he wears when the two of you are out in public but his mind’s occupied with all the filthy, wonderful things he wants to do to you the moment you’re alone.
Not that he’s ever that patient.
“Um, it’s…” Fingers tentatively reach into the tissue paper, pulling the sheer, lacy bra out, warmth blossoming in your cheeks. The matching panties - a tiny scrap of lace held together with bows and thin black straps - really aren’t much better. Like the dress, the lingerie is clearly well made, probably cost more than your weekly rent, and the delicate set is arguably gorgeous (you can’t even argue his taste), but–
“You’re gonna wear it for me tonight, right, baby?”
It’s not really a question; of course you will, because you always do. You would have thought by now that you’d be used to the gifts he showers you in.
“Yeah, but Kou, you really didn’t have to spend all this money on me. Dinner’s enough,” you tell him, setting the lingerie back down.
Dinner, and everything else for that matter.
A chuckle echoes down the line. “But I like spoiling my girl. Like buying you pretty things,” his voice dips, “like tearing ‘em off you afterwards, too.”
And despite all the apprehension curled up inside of you, a shiver of excitement runs down your spine.
—
“So…” Misuzu pushes, leaning across the countertop with her chin resting on her palm and looking entirely too pleased at your discomfort.
“He… asked me to meet him.”
Her eyes widen, sparkling in delight as she gasps, “For dinner?”
“For a drink - one drink,” you clarify. You elect not to tell her that he’d initially tried to sway you into dinner, and it was you who’d talked him down to a drink. Truthfully, you’d probably feel more comfortable getting coffee, but meeting at a bar was fine.
One drink, and if things got awkward or he turned out to be a creep you’d be out of there in a heartbeat.
“Oh my god!! My baby Y/N, all grown up and manipulating old, lonely men for money. I’m so proud,” she wipes a fake tear from her eye and bursts into a fit of giggles.
A crinkle appears between your brow as you frown at her, “He’s not even that old,” you grumble, “and it’s not like that. You know it’s not.”
“No?” she asks, her lips curling into a teasing smirk. “You know, for somebody who was so against me messaging your soon to be sugar daddy, you sure move quickly.”
She laughs at the glare you shoot her way. “You were the one who started this.”
“Mhm, and you were the one who didn’t stop it. Funny that, don’t you think?”
She looks like the cat that ate the canary; smug, glittering amusement written all across her face. And you hate, more than anything, that she’s right.
Because you’d meant to put a stop to it the moment you managed to wrestle your phone back from her. Afterwards, you’d blame the lingering hurt of having your heart broken, the insecurities and bitter humiliation that plagued you, the feeling that you weren’t good enough to stop your boyfriend from straying for making you so pathetically vulnerable and desperate for approval - but when you opened the chat instead of the sleazy come on’s you expected, his first message makes something inside of you flutter, warm and pleasant.
Holy crap, you’re beautiful.
Not exactly a sonnet from Shakespeare, but you can’t remember the last time any guy, much less your ex, called you beautiful.
It didn’t exactly hurt that instead of the aging, creepy looking letch you were half expecting, the profile picture showed a rather fit, attractive man in a crisp, black suit with silvery grey streaked hair and an easy grin. Of course, it was a fifty-fifty chance that the pic wasn’t even him, or if it was then it was outdated or heavily edited, but it was enough to make you pause.
Enough to make you… curious, if nothing else.
But ridiculously attractive or not, you weren’t going to lead him on. If he wanted some pretty, simpering thing to fuck and throw money at, to call him daddy and be his sweet, obedient little girl - that wasn’t you. You’d explained that you weren’t really sure if this was your thing, that you probably weren’t what he had in mind, but surprisingly he hadn’t been put off by that.
Well what’s the harm in finding out for yourself? Maybe you’ll like it more than you think ;)
—
There were rules, when you started - lines you both agreed wouldn’t be crossed.
First and foremost, while it wasn’t exactly a conventional relationship - at least, not the kind you were used to - it was still a relationship of sorts, and there was an expectation of honesty in lieu of absolute exclusivity. You’d tell him if you were seeing anybody else, and Bokuto would tell you the same. Considering sex was on the table, it made sense.
You swore right from the beginning that you wouldn’t allow yourself to become financially dependent on him - you knew all too well that relationships were fickle things to begin with. That kind of dependency was half the reason you were in this position in the first place, and you wouldn’t - couldn’t - let that happen again. That didn’t mean that the arrangement wasn’t transactional. After a few initial meetings that went better than you expected, the two of you came to an agreement; a nice little sum of money he’d deposit weekly in your account in exchange for you being there when he wanted you. Dinner dates, skype calls when he’s travelling, spur of the moment weekends away in expensive hotels - whatever he wanted... within reason.
The thing is, despite his flaws - the little funks he gets into, his immaturity despite the age gap between you, the way he clings to you, mopes if you don’t pay him the attention he wants - you genuinely like Bo, he’s oddly endearing. Loveable, even. He reminds you a little of a puppy; eager for affection, bright and boisterous with boundless energy (and enviable stamina). He’s sweet and adoring and funny and he has this uncanny ability to make everything else fade away when you’re with him, to make you feel like you’re the only woman in the room, beautiful and perfect and entirely his-
But that didn’t make him your boyfriend.
You weren’t lovers, and whether it was in two weeks or two years, you both knew this arrangement had an expiration date. And because of that, there were no strings attached. At any point, either one of you could end it without an explanation - no questions asked, no feelings hurt.
—
Truthfully, you don’t know an awful lot about Bokuto’s line of work, only that his position within the company is senior enough that he can move around his schedule pretty much as he wants, leaving him free to see you whenever he likes.
Which wasn’t a problem when that was once or twice a week.
“Sorry, Koutarou, you know I can’t. Maybe tomorrow?”
The petulant whine that echoes down the phone fills you with an odd sort of guilt. “Why not? You said no on Friday, too,” he pouts. “I miss you, baby. Wanna see you again.”
You shove down the faint, flickering unease that nudges at your gut. You’re not his girlfriend, and you find yourself wondering whether or not he sometimes deliberately lets himself forget that.
Nibbling at your bottom lip, you frown, “I told you I have work today. It’s too late for me to try and find someone to cover my shift, and if I call in again-”
You can kiss your job goodbye. You’re already on thin ice with your boss, and it’s not like new waitresses are hard to find these days.
“Well… what time do you finish?” he asks, his voice thick with dejection, as if he already knows what your answer’s going to be.
You bite back a sigh, “Late. I’m on close again.”
The short silence on the other end of the phone is deafening. “… I’ll come pick you up afterwards.”
This time you can’t stop the soft sigh that escapes, “Kou, I’m gonna be exhausted, I won’t be any fun to be around.”
“Still wanna see you. You’re always working,” he grumbles. “Feels like you don’t have time for me anymore, baby.”
Slowly your eyes flutter shut, and you take a deep breath. It always comes back to this. “I need this job, baby. We’ve talked about this… I’ll see you tomorrow, okay? I have the whole day off, I’m entirely yours.”
“All mine, hm?”
You smile, “All yours, promise.”
He hums in acknowledgement, not entirely happy, but temporarily placated. “Fiiiine. But I’m holding you to it.”
As if you expected any less. “I have to go get ready for work. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”
“I’ll see you later,” he promises, and you hang up a moment later.
When he said that, you assumed that both of you were on the same page as to what ‘later’ meant.
Three hours into your shift, you hadn’t expected to return from the kitchen to find a grinning Bokuto lounging in one of your booths.
“He asked for you specifically when he came in,” one of your coworkers tells you, shooting you a playful wink. “Didn’t know you were into silver foxes, Y/N. But I can’t say I blame you, he’s hot!”
“Yeah, thanks,” you mutter distractedly, glancing over your shoulder to check your manager wasn’t watching before making your way over.
The smile on your face is tight as golden eyes flicker towards you. “Bokuto,” you begin quietly, “what- what are you doing here?”
An odd look passes across his face at the use of his family name, but the smug grin remains. “You said you had to work tonight,” he says with a cavalier shrug, as if that explained everything.
“Yes, because I’m working! Kou, I need this job, I can’t-” you break off with a huff, darting another glance over your shoulder. Thankfully, your manager’s busy berating your co-worker for a screwed up order and hasn’t noticed your absence yet.
Taking advantage of your distracted state, Bokuto reaches across the table to take your hand in his, his thumb stroking back and forth along the back of your palm. “Hey, hey, relax. You’re here to work, I get it, baby. I’m just here for some food, cross my heart,” he swears, drawing an imaginary X over his chest with his finger.
Gently tugging your hand back, you ignore the hurt little pout he gives you. “So you decided to drive twenty minutes across town just to eat here?” you ask, trying to keep the exasperation from colouring your tone.
He shifts a little in his seat, cheeks flushing a dusty pink under your narrowed stare. “… Well, maybe I wanted to see my pretty girl, too,” he admits, “But I swear I’ll be on my best behaviour!”
Somehow, his words don’t fill you with confidence, but what are you supposed to do? Kick him out? Snap at him for coming despite the fact you told him not to? Taking a deep, steadying breath through your nose, you force yourself to relax. Bokuto’s not hurting anybody by being there, and so long as he keeps his hands to himself, so long as he behaves, it won’t be an issue.
He’s a paying customer, and you’ll treat him just like you would anyone else who walked through the restaurant’s doors.
Yet despite trying to reassure yourself of that, you can’t escape the niggling sense of unease sitting in the pit of your stomach. Even if he’s the perfect gentleman tonight, the perfect stranger, you’ve worked hard to keep your boring day to day life and the one you’ve created with him in nice, neat, separate boxes. Bokuto hasn’t met your friends or your family and outside of Misuzu they don’t have a clue about your arrangement with your attractive if somewhat clingy benefactor.
You don’t want them to know.
Him being here threatens that - it makes you nervous.
But you’ve been with Bokuto long enough to know that you can’t tell him that without hurting his feelings, and you definitely don’t have the energy to deal with that tonight. It’s a conversation for another day.
Instead, you allow a small smile to tug at the corners of your lips, “You know the food’s pretty average here, you might be disappointed.”
Bokuto grins again, mischief sparkling in those golden eyes, and your traitorous heart skips a beat. “Yeah, don’t think that’ll be a problem,” he leans in closer, “I’m far more interested in what’s for dessert.”
Warmth floods your cheeks as he snickers.
—
For the most part he keeps his hands to himself, but you can’t quite bring yourself to relax when you can feel those golden, hungry eyes burning a hole into your back as you move around the restaurant serving other customers.
You pretend you don’t see the scowling glower he sends to the harmless office-worker who spends a good forty five minutes flirting with you every time you go over to check on his table.
Bokuto orders enough food to feed a small army and stays until close, leaving a more than generous tip on his way out.
It goes without saying that he waits for you to finish up. The moment you slip out the door, calling out one last goodnight to your coworker, he’s on you, pushing you up against the brick alleyway wall, hiking your legs up over his hips as his mouth attacks yours, greedy and eager, swallowing up any and all protests you might’ve had.
He doesn’t take you home like you ask, but back to his penthouse suite, and neither of you get much sleep that night.
—
You’re halfway through washing your hair a few days later when your shower head splutters once… twice… and stops completely.
A blockage in the plumbing, your landlord informs you rather apathetically. It’s affecting the whole floor and it’ll take at least a day or two to get somebody out to fix it properly, leaving you without running water for the entirety of that time.
In hindsight, there were at least three other people you could have (and probably should have) called first, but he’s already answering the phone before the thought even occurs to you.
And then it’s too late to backpedal. You find yourself grateful that he can’t physically see the way you flush and fidget, pacing around your living room as you awkwardly try to explain the reason you’re calling at ten in the morning.
“Would, I mean, i-is it okay if I come over to use your shower? Just for this one time, mine kind of got interrupted this morning.”
God, from the way you stutter, stumbling over your own tongue, you’d think you were asking him to marry you. You’ve spent the night at his countless times before, but asking for a favour, even a small one like this - maybe you’re toeing an unwritten line in the sand? Bokuto isn’t with you because he loves you, he’s with you because it’s mutually beneficial for both of you, because of an agreement.
He wants fun, easy, not you saddling him with minor inconveniences. Calling to ask him to come save you, albeit from something as mundane as a lack of access to a functioning shower, feels like something you’d ask your boyfriend to do.
Not your sugar daddy.
But just as you’re about to backtrack and apologise for interrupting his morning, he speaks. “What d’you mean? Just come stay with me till it’s fixed.”
He says it with such certainty, as if it’s the most obvious solution and for a moment you’re stunned into silence. “A-are you sure? I don’t want-'' Don't want what? To be an inconvenience? A problem? “I don’t want to be in the way,” you finish lamely.
Bokuto just laughs, “Don’t be stupid, baby, of course you won’t be in the way. Just swing by the office and I can give you the keys. Or I can just get you another set made? I don’t know, we can figure it out later. I’ll see you soon, ‘kay?”
And you have to admit, as apprehensive as you were stepping into his penthouse alone for the first time, showering in Bokuto’s fancy ensuite bathroom (which you’re fairly sure is bigger than your actual bedroom) is a hell of a lot nicer than doing it at home. The lotions he has are all expensive brands with french names you’ve never even heard of before, but they smell amazing and they leave your skin feeling all soft and silky. Even the shampoo he’s bought for you to use is far nicer than the one you have at home, though you’re secretly pleased that its scent’s similar - your favourite, actually.
Did he buy them knowing that or was it just a coincidence, you wonder. You never thought to ask.
Without work, or Bo for that matter, to occupy your time, you decide to take advantage of his gigantic TV, opening up Netflix and settling into his ridiculously comfortable couch…
… And wake, a few hours later to the feeling of fingers carding through your hair and a pair of lips pressing against your cheek.
Bokuto’s home, you realise with a start, and there’s drool on your chin. Face burning with embarrassment, you hastily wipe it away with the back of your palm and try to sit up, only for Bokuto’s hand to wrap around your wrist, halting you in your tracks.
“No, don’t get up, baby,” he says, easing down onto the couch beside you and shifting your head onto his lap so he can continue threading his fingers through your hair. “I like coming home to this.”
Still half asleep, curling up and nuzzling further into those warm, thick thighs of his, you miss the intensity of the adoration burning in golden depths as he coaxes you back to sleep.
—
The two of you are in bed, your cheek resting on his chest, his arm slung over your waist and knuckles brushing idly along your side, when Bokuto breaks the comfortable silence.
“Move in with me.”
You tense in his arms, heart skipping a beat. For a split second, you’re almost positive that you misheard him. “I-I’m sorry?” You push yourself up onto your elbow, turning your head so that you can look at him properly.
But Bokuto doesn’t miss a beat. “Move in with me,” he repeats, golden eyes bearing down on you.
The expression on your face is frozen halfway between disbelief and hysteria, and you’re staring at him, waiting for that stupid grin to break across his face, for him to laugh and tell you how ridiculous you look, because of course he’s joking.
He’s joking, right?
“Koutarou,” you begin slowly, “Wha- I don’t… Why would you want me to move in with you? We barely- I mean, we’re not…”
He shrugs his shoulders, “Why wouldn’t I? It makes sense. My place is bigger and nicer, and I like having you here with me. Feels right.”
It feels right??
“I-I can’t just move out of my apartment, Kou.”
His eyebrows knit together, and he huffs, “Why not? It’s a shitty apartment.”
“That’s not the point!” Knocking away the hand that reaches for you, you push yourself all the way up until you’re sitting properly. “I don’t want to move.”
Owlish eyes narrow, a flash of irritation sparking. “Why not? It makes perfect sense for you to move in here with me. You wouldn’t have to work at that stupid job anymore for one,” he huffs.
“Bokuto, I’m not going to quit my job,” you mutter. “We’ve talked about this.”
“Why, though?!” he explodes. “You don’t need the money, I’ve told you I can take care of you, whatever you want, baby, name it and it’s fucking yours. You don’t need to work and you don’t need that shitty little apartment!”
Like a crystal glass slipping from numb fingers, the fantasy you’ve convinced yourself you’ve been living shatters into a thousand jagged shards in the space of a single breath.
Oh, how naive you’ve been. How fucking stupid.
Squeezing your eyes shut, you inhale deeply, “Kou, that’s not-”
Strong fingers grip your jaw, and your eyes shoot open as he tugs your face back towards him. Your breath catches in your throat, heart hammering painfully against your ribs. His eyes are wide, pupils blown out, but it’s the intensity in his gaze as he stares at you, the blank expression-
“I love you.”
—
39 missed calls. 72 unread messages.
Flowers, bouquets of roses, peonies and chrysanthemums piled up by your door between boxes of chocolates and other gifts you won’t bring yourself to open.
Wide eyed, Misuzu gingerly steps over them, holding two steaming mugs in hand. “Holy fuck,” she murmurs, and for the first time since this stupid, awful mistake began, there’s not a trace of mirth to be found. “Y/N, I…”
But she doesn’t have the words, and you can’t blame her.
“He told me he loves me,” you sigh. “He asked me to move in with him and told me he loved me, and I grabbed my clothes and all but ran.” You still can’t get the image of Bokuto’s face out of your head, the raw, aching hurt swimming in his eyes as you all but stumbled over excuses in your haste to get out of there. But he didn’t lift a finger to stop you, didn’t say another word.
He just watched numbly, hunched over against the headboard as you fled.
There’s a short beat of silence between the two of you as she sets down the drinks and collapses into the chair beside you. “And… do you love him back?”
Exhaling loudly, you drop your face into your palms. “I-”
You like how he makes you feel beautiful, the filthy, wonderful praise he lavishes you in when the two of you sleep together, the way he touches you, fingers and mouth so eager to please as his cock fills you, inch by delicious inch.
You like being adored, treasured, and you liked Bo, but… you don’t love him.
That was never on the cards, that wasn’t what your relationship was.
Every line he ever crossed, every boundary he toed, you keep replaying them again and again over and over in your head like a never ending loop. You hadn’t even wanted this whole stupid sugar baby relationship to begin with, and every step of the way he was the one to coax you forward.
And you let him, swallowing down your doubts and your insecurities each and every time. You let him think that this was something else entirely…
How had you not seen this coming?
“No,” you admit.
The hand that takes yours is soft, and when you glance over with eyes beginning to burn with unshed tears, Misuzu squeezes it gently. “Then end it. Walk away.”
And with your head on her shoulder, her arms wrapped loosely around you, you type out a short message to Bokuto. No strings attached and no questions asked, you’d promised each other that much when you’d started this mess. You wonder if it still holds true.
I’m sorry. Clearly we were on different pages and want different things. I didn’t mean to lead you on or for things to go as far as they did, but I can’t do this with you anymore.
You send it and block his contact, and when the tears come and painful sobs rip their way free, Misuzu holds you tight and murmurs soft reassurances. It’ll pass, all breakups hurt.
—
A week after your ‘breakup’ you get a notification on your phone that money’s been transferred into your bank account.
For a moment, you think that maybe it’s an accident, a recurring transaction he’d simply forgotten to cancel (you doubt he’d even notice) until you click into the transaction itself.
It isn’t the sum itself that startles you - twice the usual amount - but the short note attached in the description.
I need to see you. Please.
You transfer the money right back into his account.
—
Without your weekly supplement from Bo, it doesn’t take long for you to come to the realisation that your current salary just barely covers rent and your bills, and if you want to eat anything other than two minute noodles in the foreseeable future, you’re going to need either more hours, or a second job.
Thankfully, the timing works out well. When you go to your boss with your most winning smile to try and convince her of your plight, she simply shrugs and agrees, having had to let one of the junior staff go only a few days before. The one catch being that instead of working a mix of morning and afternoon shifts with the occasional closing thrown in, you’re now exclusively on close, five nights a week, Tuesday through Saturday.
Mostly, it doesn’t bother you. The shifts are long and you always leave feeling aching, drained and barely human, but usually it’s quiet enough, and so long as you can get the last few lingering customers out early enough, the actual close runs pretty smoothly between you and the other staff.
It’s not what you really want to be doing, but you’ve learned to make the best of it. This is adult life, and for the first time since high school, you’re supporting yourself entirely. It might not be the greatest job in the world, and there are absolutely days when you just want to throw in the towel completely, but there is a slight pride to that fact. You don’t need anybody in your life to coddle or support you, you’re figuring this shit out as you go along.
You just wish, sometimes, that you could do that without having to work until the early hours of the morning.
On paper, the kitchen closes at midnight and the last customers are supposed to be out within half an hour of that. Then, between yourself and another server, you can usually get the restaurant tidied up and closed a little after one.
You knew right from the moment you clocked on that tonight wasn’t going to be one of those nights. The girl who’s supposed to be on close with you called in sick and your boss hasn’t bothered to replace her.
It’s not the first time you’ve had to close by yourself, but it’s still a pain, especially when the last few customers take forever to finish up and leave.
One of the kitchen staff offers to stay back, his bag slung over his shoulder, hand already on the door handle but you just shake your head with a tired smile.
“Nah, I can handle it. Thanks, though,”
To his credit, he doesn’t immediately take the offered out. “Are you sure?”
“Yeah, I’ll be fine. See you tomorrow.”
Without any help, it takes almost twice as long for you to finish up, and it’s a little after two when you finally flick off the lights and lock the doors.
Your feet are killing you, and all you can think about is sinking into your bed at home, burrowing into your blankets and sleeping for a week straight-
“Hey, baby.”
Leaning against the hood of his car, arms folded across his broad chest and eyeing you with an unreadable expression, is Bokuto.
The tiny hairs on the back of your neck stand on end.
There's nothing inherently threatening about him being here, but it’s the middle of the night, you haven’t seen him in almost two weeks and you don’t need to glance around to know that the car park’s empty. There’s nobody in sight.
Just you and him, and the few feet of distance separating you.
“K-kou, what are you… what are you doing here?”
He smiles at that, the way his name slips from your lips, but only for a fleeting second. It fades, and a cold, uncomfortable feeling settles in the pit of your stomach.
“I missed you, y’know?” He pushes off the hood and takes a step towards you, “You didn’t call me.”
He’s always been bigger than you, towering over you looking like some Adonis with those rippling, powerful muscles of his. You used to like that strength, squealing in wicked delight when he’d hoist you up with a grin, hands gripping your thighs, squeezing your ass, your back shoved up against the wall so he could drive his cock deeper into ‘his pretty fuckin’ pussy’.
But that was then.
You’ve never been scared of his strength. Even that morning in the apartment, he didn’t lash out, didn’t scream or yell, he just… shut down. He wouldn’t hurt you, you know that.
That doesn’t stop you from skittering backwards like a frightened little bunny, your back hitting the wall.
The very moment you do, you watch as his eyes widen in surprise, hurt flashing for a split second-
-before they darken, his face twisting into a scowl, and you can’t escape the feeling you’ve made an awful mistake.
Dread creeps its way up your spine, tightening like a vice around your chest, making it hard to breathe. Your brain is screaming at you to run, adrenaline surging through your veins, but even as your heart races and your breathing spikes, you can’t seem to move your legs.
It wouldn’t make a difference even if you could - with your back up against the literal wall, Bokuto and his car blocking your only escape route, you’re trapped; a fact that hasn’t escaped either of you.
Paralysed in fear, you can’t so much as twitch as he takes another slow, calculated step forward.
Desperately, you open your mouth - to try and placate him? To apologise? Scream for help? - but all that escapes is his name in a choked, breathless whisper.
“Bokuto…”
As he stares at you, he almost looks regretful.
Almost, if not for the grim determination resolving like steel in those golden eyes of his. “I love you, and I know you love me, too,” he says, closing the gap between you. “I’m doing this for us, baby.”
#yandere haikyuu#yandere bokuto x reader#yandere bokuto kotaro x reader#yandere bokuto koutarou#yandere bokuto kotaro#yandere bokuto koutarou x reader#tw manipulation#tw toxic behavior#tw kidnapping
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
first position | one shot
summary: your bestfriend’s ex ain’t shit, especially if he’s never made her orgasm. (based on this ask)
pairing: jungkook x reader x reader’s bestfriend
genre: (18+) college au | smut
words: 2.3k
warnings: cussing, mature language/implied sexual content, alcohol consumption, marijuana use, threesome, protected sex, multiple orgasms, breast play, oral (f. receiving), cum eating, ass smacking, pussy smacking, doggy style, hair pulling, slightly rough sex
note: drew some inspiration from lani’s “first position” song (linked above); please know that this is an entirely new level of smut for me so i apologize if shit sounds kind of off. super unfamiliar with threesome scenes, but i did my best to read up on actual accounts to see what people describe it to be like ahaha ALSO - wips are updated, feel free to see what my messy brain is working up nowadays lol enjoy ya’ll 🤓 this goes out to you, anon! i tried! lol
"Baby, open up!" Jungkook says, knocking on your door. You stumble a bit, laughing with your bestfriend. You both had been drinking wine all night and shared a blunt together before calling your boyfriend, whining for some food.
"Gookieeee." You giggle as you open the door and throw your arms around his neck. He pulls back to kiss you on the lips before helping himself inside and tossing off his shoes.
"Jungkook! The savior!" Your bestfriend says as he sets the food down onto the kitchen counter.
"Yeah, yeah. Thank me later. I'd rather grab the food then let you two drunkies head out like this."
"We aren't drunk, silly."
"Okay." He chuckles as he plops onto the couch, manspreading as he flips the channel on your tv to the Warriors vs. Pacers basketball game. "That's more I like it."
"Excuse me." You say as you shove fries into your mouth, your bestfriend devouring her burger next to you in the kitchen. "You're getting comfortable."
"Mhm, I sure am."
"Babe, it's a girl's night."
"Mm no, it's no longer a girl's night after my babygirl asks me to leave the comfort of my bed just to bring her food."
"Sorry to interrupt your jacking off session."
"Yeah, exactly." He says. "What'd you guys drink tonight?"
"Wine, wine and more wine. Smoked a blunt too." He laughs.
"Time of your lives, ey?"
"Lana just got dumped by that ungrateful dumbass, of course I gotta treat her."
"Hey, for what it's worth Lana - Namjoon didn't deserve you." He looks at your bestfriend, sympathy poking through his facial expression. Lana and Namjoon had been dating on and off for almost 2.5 years until that stupid ass decided he wanted to cheat and pursue other women like he had it like that. He for sure didn't though. He couldn't even make Lana cum properly. At all, even.
"Yeah, he didn't even know how to make you cum." Jungkook's eyes widened.
"The fuck?" He chuckled. "Really? After all these years?"
"Um, yeah. I guess that's just how he gets down." She says shyly. She was so innocent, being that she hadn't really been in a relationship besides with Namjoon. She hadn't explored much being that he was so narrow minded and she did a lot to keep him happy in the relationship.
"So.. would you like, fake it?" Jungkook asks, curiosity in his eyes.
"No, she wouldn't even get there babe!"
"Huh?" He's utterly confused and he's not even trying to hide it.
"He would like, you know, do it until he came then that was it."
"Huh." He nods. "He wouldn't even try? Interesting." Kook says, making you laugh. "I make Y/N cum at least 5 times a day."
"Shut the fuck up, boy. No you don't." You throw a fry at him.
"Boohoo, okay. It's like 3 at the very least. I could make her cum more but she's always crying for me to stop cause she can't take it." You raise your middle finger at your boyfriend.
"H-how does it feel?"
"To cum?" Kook asks.
"Euphoric. Like no other." You respond. Jungkook looks at you, then back at her, a little turned on by the conversation. Lana was pretty, and she definitely deserved better as both you and Kook stated. She was innocent at best, but you knew she was curious.
"I wish I knew." She says, sipping on more wine, making a bright idea pop into your head.
"Hey." You lightly squeeze her side. "I have an idea, but it's totally okay if you don't wanna go with it. I don't wanna make you do something you aren't comfortable with."
"Hm?" She hums as she watches you give Jungkook a small smirk that he returns. He honestly doesn't know what your crazy ass is thinking about, but whatever it is, he's down. He always is, and that's what he loved about you - you were always down, and you taught him that. Life's too fucking short.
"Let's put you on." You say nodding to the room. "Let me and Kook show you what it's like." Jungkook almost chokes on his water.
"I-I— like a threesome? I don't know, I'm not that experienced, I wouldn't—"
"Girl, we'll guide you through it."
"But Jungkook, he's your boyfriend, I can't—"
"And that's not gonna change. He's down, trust me. Look at his stupidly cute face." You both turn to him, his doe eyes wide with a huge smile plastered on his face.
"Seriously though, Lana. If you aren't comfortable—" Jungkook chimes in, reassuring her.
"I'm down." She spits out and nods. "I'm down. Let's do it. As long as things don't change between us."
"It won't, I promise, okay?" You grab her hand and lead her to your room.
"Oh shit." Jungkook says, throwing the remote aside to catch you two. He walks in and stops at the door frame, watching you two sit on your bed. Honestly, he was down but he was also still feeling a little concerned about how this would go down. Of course, he was the only sober one here, you two being crossfaded almost out of your minds and more relaxed than he was. He didn't really have an issue though. As long as nothing changed between you, Lana and himself, then things would be fine. Especially between Lana and you. You had been bestfriends since college started.
He didn't think it would though, so fuck it.
"Just, follow along. Okay? If you're ever uncomfortable or want us to stop, just say so."
"Say ex or something weird." Jungkook spits out.
"Um, okay." You sit up on your knees as she leans back into your pillows, and gently start feeling up her arms.
"Relax, Lana." You say at a whisper, your lips about to fall onto hers. She takes the kiss as it builds up slowly. You feel her ease up, her arms climbing up yours as her tongue begins to explore and fight yours for dominance.
"Jeeeeesus fucking christ." Jungkook says, swiping his hand down his face as he continues to watch you and Lana tongue each other down. He felt himself getting harder by the minute, watching as the sound of sloppy, wet kisses began to fill the room and your shirts began to fly off. You pull away for a second to look back at him and signal for him to come over, his baggy long sleeve immediately coming off as he climbs onto the bed. You direct Lana to release your bra as you with hers. You're practically straddling her at this point, Jungkook's hands now roaming up your body. His hand grips your neck as he tilts it back, laying kisses along your jaw before nibbling your earlobe. You let out a breathy moan, your hips grinding against Lana's, causing her to bite her lip and let out a small moan as your hands begin to feel up on her breasts.
"Lay back." You say softly, Lana silently following the order. You begin to take off her leggings, throwing them across your room as Kook is gently laying kisses down your back. "Behind me, babe." You give him a quick look with Jungkook fully understanding the request. He steps off the bed, giving you space to lower yourself onto Lana's clothed clit. You press your lips against it while Jungkook is wrestling to take off your sweats and toss them aside, his fingers already getting busy with rubbing your clothed pussy as he tries to work with it from behind you and off the bed. Lana lets out a moan as she watches you closely, your finger hooking her panties to the side and your tongue giving her pussy a good swipe up. She trembles a bit with the contact, but settles quickly as you begin to work your mouth against her folds, then back up to her clit.
"Ohhhh shit. He's never done it like that." Lana says as she lets out a few breaths. You moan against her clit as Jungkook is now pumping his digits in and out of you quickly, his tongue continuously teasing, tip penetrating your entrance whenever his digits aren't doing the work. Lana's hips begin to buck upwards and grind onto your tongue, fucking her pussy more and more into this unfamiliar pleasure. "Oh fuck, oh my god! I don't know if I can do this." She whines as she grips the sheets, her knuckles turning white. You nod, signaling for her to let go as your tongue is now teasing her clit, working in up and down motions.
"Fuck, Kook!" You manage to spit out. You're so fucking turned on by the sight in your bedroom right now, and you have no idea if it's because you're pretty crossfaded, but this shit was pretty and all you wanted to do was feel good and make your bestfriend feel good. After all, she deserves to feel it once in her lifetime and if Namjoon wasn't gonna do that shit, then you'd gladly be the one to let her experience it.
"Cum for me, baby." He says as he quickly pulls back to give your pussy a good smack before he latches on again. "Let me feel it." The words alone, along with your moaning into Lana's clit, sends her over, her body trembling graciously in your grip.
"Fuck! What the fuck!" She screams, whining moans leaving her mouth quickly afterwards. You soon let yourself go, detaching yourself from her clit, your body trembling on all fours with Jungkook rubbing your clit like there's no tomorrow. The pain quickly turns into more pleasure, you crashing your body ontop of Lana's as you both try to regulate your breathing and come back down from your highs. Jungkook is hard as a fucking rock seeing the both of you completely fucked out already, especially you having done work on Lana at the same time as he pleased you.
"What do I do next?" You look at her as you finally gain the energy to raise your body a bit, shaking your head.
"Stay. Kook, get in her first." Jungkook is already unwrapping the first condom and sliding it down his dick.
"You both okay?" He manages to ask, Lana simply giving him a nod as he warns her with a tap of his reddened tip against her folds. "I'll take it slow. You just let me know what you want." You smirk down at her.
"Use him, Lana."
"W-what?" Her back slightly arches as her eyes roll to the back of her head feeling Jungkook fill her up. Although she had agreed to it, she didn't think her first fuck out of a relationship was gonna be with you and your boyfriend. Let alone did she ever think Jungkook would be penetrating her the way he was right now.
But fuck it. There's a first for everything.
"Use him." You repeat as you situate yourself on top of her, your lips landing back on hers with Jungkook's hand in your hair. "Tell him what you want to make you cum again."
"F-faster." She spits out in between kisses. Jungkook obeys, his thrusts now becoming quicker.
"Shit, dude." He says, his head tilting back in pleasure. "This is so fucking hot." You lower yourself a bit, your mouth latching onto her nipples one by one. You tease her a bit, your tongue flicking in and around her hardened bud, smirking into it when you hear her let out a loud moan.
"Fuck, yes. Please. Just like that." She begs. "Rougher please." You pull back on her nipple with a pop, lightly blowing air onto it as Jungkook begins to sloppily ram into her pussy. Caressing her skin, you can feel the goosebumps radiating throughout her body before you lower yourself back down onto her other nipple and repeat the process.
"Cum, Lana." Jungkook groans. "Cum all over this dick. It's your playing field right now." You smirk as your tongue continues to tease her nipple, her moans getting louder the more he hammers into her.
"Cum, babe." You say as you hop off and reach down to rub her clit. With just a few rubs, she's hurdling over the edge, her body trembling once more as she yells.
"Holy fuck! Ugghhhhhffffgod." Her breathing hitching as the aftershocks ripple through her.
"On your knees, babygirl." Jungkook orders you to get on your fours while switching out the condom to a new one, Lana slowly slipping out from under you to get on her fours and face you. Jungkook doesn't waste any time, roughly inserting himself into you and filling you up until he bottoms out. He feels a little more comfortable, knowing he can roughhouse the fuck out of you more than he could with Lana, so he begins to hammer into you and tug onto your hair at the same time.
"Jungkook, fuck." You moan, his large hand smacking your ass as he quickens his pace. Lana's now planting kisses along your neck while Jungkook holds you steady with your hair, her hands roaming around your breasts and giving them a good, gentle squeeze.
"Shit, I-I'm gonna cum soon." He says, biting his bottom lip. "Cum with me baby." He moans. Lana's hand travels down to your clit, copying what she's learned from you by rubbing it in circular motions.
"Ohhhhhhgod, yes!" You moan, but aren't able to release any other noise afterwards. You continue to whine as the loud, lewd noises of skin against skin continue filling the room. Sooner or later, you feel yourself unraveling, Jungkook's nails digging deep into your hips while Lana continues to rub your clit gently to help you ride out your high. "Oh my fucking god." You say as you try to regulate your breathing. Lana immediately throws her panties and her clothes back on, feeling shy with Jungkook being in the room.
"How'd that feel?" He says, throwing on his clothes while handing you yours. You look at her and smirk, licking your bottom lip.
"Good, I hope." Lana chuckles.
"Fucking amazing."
"Maybe we should do this more often."
"Baby, wait." Jungkook laughs. "You're fucking wild."
"She is, isn't she?" Lana rolls her eyes playfully.
"Hey, at least we gave you the ride of your life." You all make your way out of the room to get a little air and step away from the post sex-smelling room. "Next time I see Namjoon, I'll let him know what you look like when you cum."
#bts#bts fanfiction#jungkook fanfiction#jeon jungkook fanfiction#jungkook one shot#jeon jungkook one shot#jk one shot#jjk one shot#bts jungkook one shot#jungkook#jeon jungkook#jjk#bts jungkook#jungkook x reader x bestfriend#jjk x reader x bestfriend#bts smut#jungkook smut#jeon jungkook smut#jjk smut#bts jungkook smut#writing
966 notes
·
View notes
Text
Loophole
Summary: Billy Lee is away on a trip and you’re needy. Mike helps out but you get caught. Billy Lee x reader, Mike (Hellraiser) x reader
Genre: Smut
Warnings: sex, dub-con to be safe, slight degradation, voyeurism, cheating (kind of)
a/N: This has to be the most elaborate piece I’ve written so far. And it’s a rarepair but I hope people will still enjoy. And I’m just gonna tag @hope-to-hell because A) this obsession is your fault and b) I think you might enjoy this.
1.7k words
Billy Lee is a busy man. Sure, he's carved himself a life where he can do whatever he wants, more or less, but it comes at the cost of leading his people. And he doesn't call it a cult, they're more like a big family. And he's the head. Their chief. He's in charge and with that comes freedom; and responsibility. And time away from you.
But he wouldn't leave you all alone. No, not after you've tried to run more than once. Not after he's had to follow you across half the country to bring you back. So, he leaves you with his right-hand man.
Mike is young, tall, dark, wild curls on his head and icy blue eyes. He's all harsh angles and scars and his smile will freeze your blood. He had come to them beaten and bloodied and half dead and unable to speak, but even then, he fought and thrashed like a wild animal, or a rabid dog. So that’s what they called him. Dog.
He got better, wounds healing over, finding his voice again, and immediately challenged anyone's authority. He, quite physically, fought back against the nickname and now only the chief still occasionally uses it. It's a surprise Billy Lee didn't kick him out as soon as he was healed enough. The chief doesn't take kindly to challengers. But they had their one big fight, teeth and claws and knives, rolling through the mud and wrestling and then - he let Mike stay. Let him rise through the ranks. Put him to use keeping people in line, his personal attack dog. Nobody would dare call it that out loud, but he has a soft spot for the boy. It’s the only explanation for how Mike hasn’t lost his head yet for shamelessly staring at you every chance he gets. Billy Lee let him have his choice in partners, but you were the exception. Even Mike in his ruthlessness understood not to mess with that boundary, but it happened anyways.
And it so easily could've ended in a disaster - for you and even more so for Mike. Billy Lee had been gone for almost a week, leaving things in Mike's care; including you. You were under strict instruction not to leave your room, to let Mike know if you needed anything. And not to touch yourself. And you had been good. So good. And so fucking horny. With no idea when the chief would return you cracked.
Mike, please
You know I can't
Says who? He said I can't touch myself but you're not me. And he did say for you to take care of me.
It's not like you're not worried about it. You only trust Mike on the account that Billy Lee trusts him. His hungry eyes made you uncomfortable more than once. But you need and maybe this'll be enough of a loophole for Billy Lee to let it slide.
He gets you off on his fingers the first time, methodical, learning your body and doing his best not to derive his own pleasure from it. Then, again, later the same day.
The next day, you beg him to eat you out. Your hands tangled in his hair, pushing and pulling, wanton moans escaping your lips when
Get off her
Your heart rate spikes as your hands drop to your sides. You hadn't even heard the door open. Mike is scrambling off the bed, wiping his mouth on his sleeve and standing at attention. This may be the most distraught you've seen him, but he's hiding it well even now. Except maybe for the bump in his trousers.
What the fuck is this?
And his voice is quiet, calm. And it scares you more than if he had yelled the words.
I- You did have your excuse ready to go but seeing the blond man stand looming over the bed, suddenly the words get stuck in your throat.
Chief- but Billy Lee cuts him off with a look.
No, no. She gets to explain.
For a moment you consider blaming Mike, but you do want to try your best to not bar him from further exploring this. From just these three times he had potential.
Billy Lee is still staring at you, waiting for an answer. When you go to sit up and cover yourself, he gives a single shake of his head. You've played this game before. He will stay silent and not let you move until you explain.
You said not to touch myself. Your voice is only slightly shaking. And I haven't. But I needed. Sir, I needed. And so I asked Mike to take care of me. You always say for him to take care of my needs when you're gone.
Billy Lee turns to Mike, who is still standing in the same position, not betraying just how fucked he thinks he is.
And what is the second half of that request, dog?
Tend to her needs but leave her wants and whims to you He recites almost automatically, the order drilled into him.
And do you think, Mike Billy Lee almost spits the name that my little dove wanting to come is a need or a want?
Need. You pipe up against your better judgement, unwilling to let Mike take the fall for your escapade.
I didn’t ask you, did I?
Want, chief Mike sounds a little sheepish, but he holds his head high and stands his ground.
So you agree that this is outside of your duties, dog? A nod from Mike.
And what are we gonna do about that
There are a few beats of tense silence
Well- You know there has to be punishment. Billy Lee starts pacing and you feel your whole body shake in anticipation.
For you he turns towards you, still unmoving on the bed. For you it’s easy. He runs a hand up the inside your thigh, leaving a trail of goosebumps. You get one more today and then you are not going to come for at least a week. His fingers deftly avoid your slick center and travel back down the other leg. And you will be on your best behaviour or I will dig out the cage again. All you can do is nod.
As for you, dog, you’re lucky I understand it’s difficult to resist a begging pretty little thing. And I do recognise that I may have left her unattended for too long. You’ll get a chance to prove yourself so listen closely. I want you to fuck her. Like she so desperately wants. Make her shake and cry and come. If you do a good job, maybe I’ll add this to your duties when I’m gone. And to prove that you understand the boundaries, you are not going to get off here, tonight. Are we understood?
And Mike- Mike who has been standing there stoically all this time, hiding just how scared he is that he’ll get kicked out. That Billy Lee was going to beat him to a pulp and leave him on a roadside somewhere. He wouldn’t say it, but he did like the family. And he even enjoyed having found his match in the chief. Knowing there was a person he had no power over. Though he’s not ready to admit that to himself. And anyways, none of this changes that he is elated at the chance he has been presented.
Billy Lee situates himself in his armchair, facing the bed. He lazily starts palming himself and gives an impatient nod to Mike when he still hasn’t moved. Better make it good. And that’s all it takes.
He gets back between your legs, picking up where he left off before the interruption, and from the first lick you are gone. Your hands automatically find their way back to his dark curls. He groans into your pussy and the vibrations make you moan.
I believe I said to fuck her. Billy Lee would sound almost unaffected to anyone else, but you know him better than that. You know he’s getting off on this just as much as you. And it makes you brave.
Please you whimper, pulling Mike’s hair. You lift his head and pull him in for a kiss, your own taste on his lips driving you on even further. His hands frantically shove off his trousers, letting himself get lost in the frenzy and – for a moment – forget that he ought to be careful. He gives himself a few quick strokes before prodding at your entrance. Your hands flying to his back and clawing into the muscle as he slowly breaches your hole.
Fuck. Please. I need-
But he keeps the first thrust slow, letting you adjust once he bottoms out. From the side you hear a deep, familiar groan. You look over and see Billy Lee, his cock out, stroking himself to the sight of you. And just that moment Mike starts moving in you, forcing your attention back to him. A devilish grin on his face he lowers his head to take one of your nipples between his lips. It’s a lick and a suck at first but then he simultaneously bites down and gives a harsh thrust into you, coaxing a yelp from your lips.
Your legs wrap around his hips, instinctively trying to keep him as deep in you as possible, while your nails scratch angry red lines into his back. Mike picks up his pace, seemingly getting faster with every sound he draws from you. He growls when you try to sneak a hand between your bodies. Pinning your arms above your head, he brings his own fingers to your clit and rubs. It takes a second for him to find a good rhythm, but then he can feel you clenching. There’s a coil rapidly tightening in your core and you buck your hips to meet his thrusts. The tension snaps and with a scream, your orgasm washes over you. Mike fucks you through the aftershocks, and as your head clears you sense just how much he is holding himself back, keeping to his orders. Your eyes shoot to the armchair, where Billy Lee is still stroking himself. His eyes blown black with lust.
With a hiss Mike pulls out, unfinished. He gives you a tight smile and looks over to the chief as well. The blonde gives him a nod Go get yourself sorted. We’ll talk tomorrow.
Mike hastily puts his trousers back on and rushes out as Billy Lee gets up and turns his attention to you again, cock still in hand.
My turn.
Part 2
#billy lee x reader#mike (hellraiser) x reader#billy lee smut#mike (hellraiser) smut#chris hemsworth smut#henry cavill smut#chris hemsworth fic#henry cavill fic#bad times at the el royale#2nd person
85 notes
·
View notes
Text
An Old Friend
Hanta Sero x Fem! Reader
Pro Hero AU
Warnings: Cheating, swearing, a smidge of angst, happy-ish ending w/ a bit of fluff
Word Count: 1.5 k
Author’s Note: Sorry loves, the next chapter for Powerful won't be updated for a few days. I'm going on a camping trip, so it'll have to wait since there's no signal out at the site. In the meantime, have this old barely finished cheating hurt/comfort drabble for your troubles 💜💜
Enjoy~
You loved your husband. He provided everything for you, and you stayed home like a good housewife, cleaning and cooking and washing clothes. It didn’t bother you, really, you didn’t mind this calm life. In fact, you’d managed to find ways to keep your hobbies through the years when you left the house to stroll around the city. You took a self-defense class, took up light bodybuilding and weight training (taking you back to your college wrestling days), even re-learned to use weapons like throwing knives and dipped into using katana, but mostly as an art form considering nobody used swords to fight in this day and age.
Today marked 6 years with him. He was always so sweet and provided everything for you, and gave you full control over any and all money he gave you. You even had your own separate bank account that he constantly poured money into, so you weren’t complaining. So tonight, you were on your way back home from picking up a new wine he’d been wanting to try, but never had the time to go buy. You’d skipped your self defense class today, wanting to surprise him when you got home early. You were so excited you didn’t notice the extra pair of high heels at the door. You strode into the house, beaming from ear to ear.
“Babe I’m home! I have a surprise for you I think you’ll like!” When you didn’t get an answer, you began to worry. Is he okay? You put your bags down on the kitchen table and called out again as you walked up the stairs, listening for his response. Still no answer. As you came up to your bedroom door it was cracked open, and there were noises coming from inside. Lewd noises. From a woman’s voice. A woman that wasn’t you. Your chest tightened in sadness, fear, and most prominently, burning rage. You shoved the door open and it slammed against the wall, making both bodies in your bed jump and scramble to cover up.
“S-sweetheart… y-you aren’t in your self defense class tonight… was it cancelled?” Fuming, you looked at the woman that was still in your bed.
“Get the fuck out of my house, or I’ll throw you out the window myself.” She didn’t need to be told twice, and was fully dressed and off the property within five minutes. In the fray, your husband hadn’t moved an inch.
“How fucking long?” He looked down, avoiding eye contact.
“Three years.” Talking wasn’t even an option anymore. You immediately started packing a duffel bag. You packed all your small personal weapons and just enough clothing for a few days, since you had money in your account that he’d transferred to you over the years. Speaking of the asshole, he was quickly jumping out of bed and scrambling over to you.
“Wait, sweetie what are you doing?” You glared at him, still packing your things.
“I’m leaving you, jackass. Don’t you call me ‘sweetie’ ever again. Six years we’ve been married, I’ve been nothing but good to you, and you’re telling me you’ve been cheating on me for half the time I thought you loved me? You’re a fucking douchebag. Have fun finding yourself another housewife to cheat on.” And with that, you left the house.
He chased you all the way to the front door, pleading and promising he’d be better. You called bullshit. Once you got outside he let you leave, and you could hear him wailing like a child even two blocks down. And you had no sympathy for him. Not a single tear fell from your eyes as you dialed an old friend’s number. The two of you hadn’t spoken in years, but he was still your closest friend. The phone rang only twice before he picked up.
“Hey y/n! It’s been a while! What’s going on?” His cheery voice rang through the speakers, and it ebbed your anger slightly, but you were still tense.
“Hey, I’m in kind of a tight spot right now. Can I crash at your place tonight?” You didn’t mean for the desperation to come through in your voice, nor the rage.
“Yeah, of course. Do you need me to come pick you up?”
“Actually, yeah, that would be great. I’ll send you my location, I’ll be waiting in a cafe.”
“Okay, stay safe. I’ll see you soon.” It took all of five minutes for you to walk to the corner cafe, and you sat at the back table sipping coffee for the first time in six years.
20 minutes later the cafe door chimed and you looked up to see a familiar face. Your old friend had changed over the years, now all lean muscle and tanned skin littered with scars, no doubt from hero work. He spotted you quickly, you being one of the only people in the cafe, and planted himself in the seat across from you with his signature beaming grin.
“What’s up? How have you been?” With a huff you let your shoulders slump a bit.
“Honestly Hanta, I could be a lot better. Can we talk about this back at your place?” He nodded, and soon you were in his car, stuck in your head thinking over the events of the past hour.
The more you thought about it, the less you understood why he’d do something like this. If he was unhappy, he should have just asked for a divorce. If he wasn’t satisfied sexually, he should have just said something. It didn’t make any sense. Maybe you were just not enough, and he didn’t have the heart to tell you? But then if he got caught he’d know you wouldn’t have any of it. Right?
Had you reacted the right way? Should you have tried to talk it out with him? No, he’d been sleeping with at least one other woman behind your back for half your marriage. He didn’t deserve the chance to give excuses. His infidelity would probably continue long after the divorce you never thought you’d need to go through.
A warm hand on your knee had you blinking back to reality.
“Are you alright?” His eyes were still locked on the road and his voice was gentle. Your chest was beginning to burn, but you refused to let it all spill while Hanta was driving. Instead you just shook your head.
“Not now.” He gave a squeeze to your knee before replacing his hand on the wheel, concentrating on the road.
It didn’t take much longer after that to pull into a parking garage and head up to his apartment. It was large, two suite bedrooms with a shared bathroom in between. The kitchen was all marble and a dark wood you couldn’t identify, lined with the latest appliances. Still holding your coffee, you settled into the couch with Hanta. He let a thick silence settle, not wanting to upset you. You decided not to wait for him to ask.
“He cheated on me.” In your peripheral you saw his head snap up to you, eyes wide like he couldn’t believe what he was hearing.
“He...what?” Your jaw clenched as you gave a small nod. He took a small breath before asking the next question.
“How long?” Your shoulders shook with laughter, earning a confused and concerned look from the black-haired man next to you.
“Three FUCKING YEARS Hanta! Can you believe it?!” You were hysterical at this point, laughter shaking your whole body and tears burning your eyes and nose. Hanta took your cup and placed it on the coffee table, then wrapped his arms around you as your laughter morphed into sobs. You clung to him for dear life, and he held you tight as you cried. It felt like someone had reached into your chest and squeezed your heart, crushing it into dust.
Hanta held you until you went limp in his arms. You’d cried yourself to sleep. Still he held you close as you slept, petting your hair gently. You didn’t know it, but Hanta had loved you for a long time. He loved you even after you’d married and stopped contacting him, and he still loved you now. It burned him inside to know you’d been hurt so deeply by the man you had planned to spend the rest of your life with. He let out a deep sigh and kissed the top of your head.
“It’ll be okay, princess. I’ve got you.” Carefully, he shifted and carried you to his spare room, tucking you into the sheets and leaving a kiss on your forehead. He swore he’d be there for you through it all, he’d earn your love. And he’d never toss it away like the coward you married.
#sero hanta#sero hanta fluff#sero hanta bnha#sero hanta mha#hanta sero#hanta sero fluff#hanta sero bnha#hanta sero mha
26 notes
·
View notes
Text
(requested by mathmaticalknight; continuing from this)
“So, let me see if I’ve got this right.” The Doctor was sitting in his chair, cigar lit between two fingers, looking at Saria with a laser-like focus. “You won the right to examine Nian in an arm-wrestling competition, took her on a date as part of the conditions, conducted the exam but haven’t shared the findings, and shortly thereafter began a relationship with her. I get all that right?”
“Yes, Doctor,” the Vouivre replied from between clenched teeth as Silence smirked from the spare chair.
He sighed, shaking his head. “Well, that’s one hell of a way to earn the ire of Medical. Dr. Kal’tsit know about this?”
“While I considered informing her first,” the Liberi spoke up, “you have more powers and more options at your disposal than she does, and I want the full consequences of her actions to be accounted for.”
“Right, right...Well, I have a few more questions that you cannot be here for due to some confidentiality issues-”
Olivia nodded. “I’ll take my leave. Enjoy your fate, Saria~”
“...Get bent,” she muttered under her breath. Once the traitor was gone, Saria leaned further back into her chair and sighed. “Well, Doctor? You have some questions?”
“Oh, I lied about that. And about punishing you; actually, I want to thank you for redirecting the Nian. Haven’t had her barge in on my private time with Se- with Gravel in weeks now thanks to you. It’s been really nice having the extra time.”
The Defender smiled. “Glad to help, from one doctor to another.”
“But, I probably should do something to smooth things over with Medical...Tell you what.” The Doctor reached into his desk and pulled out a pair of tickets...to Siesta. “An off-season mandatory paid vacation ought to be murder for a workaholic like you, right?”
“...Is it sad that you’re not entirely wrong?”
He laughed at that. “No, I get it; hell, if I hadn’t met Gravel, I’d be the same way, but with her around, even my free time isn’t exactly ‘free,’ if ya catch my meaning.”
“Oh, don’t worry, Doctor, I understood.” Ohhhh she understood. “Still, Siesta in late fall, early winter?”
“I have tickets to Kjerag in here,” the Doctor replied, a bit more of an edge to his voice.
She took the hint and took the tickets. “I’m not telling them shit.”
“And I’d never ask you to.” He shook her hand while he had the chance. “Now storm out of here as if you’re pissed at everything that’s just happened.”
“I won’t have to fake that much of the anger, either.” And with that, Saria took her leave in preparation of taking her leave.
Rather than stay in the office the whole day, the Vouivre went home and waited for her girlfriend to return; when Nian finally did, she handed her the tickets. “My punishment for not giving over your exam results. We leave the day after tomorrow.”
“This is what she came up with?” When Saria simply replied with a long look, the Nian chuckled. “I always knew the Doctor liked me~”
“He said you should take him out on the town again before we go on our vacation.”
Wow. “Don’t insult my intellect, I know he doesn’t like how much I bother him. Not that it’ll stop me, obviously, but he’s got a terrible poker face.”
“I suppose he does.” The Vouivre picked her up off the ground as she gave her a hug. “I think we should celebrate our little victory. Your results are wholly safe with me.”
“Oh, I never doubted it for a moment. The only real question is what you're planning in the whirligig mind of yours.”
Guilty as charged. “Nothing concrete for the moment, but I would like to get back at her for this.”
“And what’s that worth, in the end?” The Nian pulled herself closer, wrapping her arms around Saria’s neck. “You’re already in hot water with Medical; why make it worse?”
“Hmm...What would you rather have me do?”
Her eyes sparkled like the quicksilver of her weaponry. “Take a wild guess.”
“Voracious as always.” She tossed her in the direction of the couch, which they’d had bolted to the floor for this exactly. “Fear not, Terra, I will tame this beast in time.”
“You can try~” And as the Defender had hoped, that’s exactly what the Vouivre did.
--------
“Hey, Mom?” Ifrit came out of her room, her homework scorched around the edges but nearly finished, to find Silence cuddling on the couch with Ptilopsis. “Oh, hey Auntie. Anyway, do you know where Saria is? I have a couple questions about skeletons and since calcium’s kind of her thing, I figure I should ask her.”
Tilly’s ears perked up. “I believe she is currently in exile as a result of her concealing of vital research data from the community.”
“Oh. Well, can you tell her to get un-exiled? This assignment’s due tonight-”
“That’s my phone,” Olivia noted as she heard a ringing; with a frown but no other signs of displeasure, she got up and answered it. “Hello? Nian?”
The Nian was on the other side of the call, reclined against a sleeping Saria. “You want my exam data, right?”
“Yes, that’s right.” Sweet fucking Christmas, where they about to get the files after all?
“I have some conditions that need to be met first.” She cleared her throat. “First, you forget your immediate issues with my girl Saria and let her see Ifrit more often; second, you prevent Medical from targeting her for any sort of reprisal, because these are my medical records and as my physician, she was under no obligation to share them with you at any point; and third, you apologize to her publicly within 3 days of our return. Understood?”
The Liberi did some mental calculations before nodding. “Yes.”
“Good. Was that so hard?” And with that, she hung up.
“And so the war is won.” After holding her composure for a moment, Silence ran back into the living room and tackled Ptilopsis. “We have them!”
While the other Medic blue-screened, the Sarkaz interjected for the both of them. “Nian’s files?”
“All she asked for in return was petty ego boosts for Saria; more than a fair trade for some of the most valuable data we’ve had in years towards the Project.”
“‘The Project?’” Tilly frowned. “Olivia, the Project was terminated for a reason.”
Her eyes burned with medical malpractice. “And? Do we intend to continue to stifle scientific progress for something so inconsequential?”
“...Allowing time to review your statement,” she replied, frowning and glancing at Ifrit.
“Review my...” Silence followed her eyes, and the realization struck. “...You’re right. Nonetheless, I’m sure the rest of Medical will be quite happy when those files arrive in our offices.”
Ifrit wasn’t sure what’d just happened, but it didn’t matter. “So, Mom, anything you’re gonna do now that you’ve won?”
“...Yes. Here’s 2500 LMD; spend the night with one of your friends for me. I’ll call you when it’s safe to come back.”
“Oh dear.” The other Liberi adjusted some internal parameters. “Recalibrating evening plans. I’d hoped to have this in my diary before the euphoria set in...”
#arknights#arknights fic#nian (arknights)#saria (arknights)#ptilopsis (arknights)#silence (arknights)#ifrit (arknights)#coming down to the wire#literally woke up an hour early from a dream about not finishing this fic#lol
23 notes
·
View notes
Text
Welcome Home Part 3
*not my gif*
WARNINGS: EXPLICIT LANGUAGE, seriously I use the ‘F’ word a lot.
Pairings: Cody Rhodes x OFC (Sister), Brandi Rhodes x OFC (sister), Dustin Rhodes x OFC (Sister), past Seth Rollins x OFC, future Kenny Omega x OFC
Summary: Peyton gets an offer that will change her entire career, while she tries to deal with the rising feelings for her best friend.
A/N: Here is part 3. I hope y’all like it.
The next few days following the aquarium, Kenny and I were more inseparable than usual. Everywhere we went, we were together. When Dynamite rolled around, the entire locker room was whispering about us.
I was on my way to the EVP room, when I was stopped by Kris Statlander. “Hey girlie.” She greeted, booping my nose. It twitched at the contact. “I didn’t hear from you much this week, and then I saw the pics of you and Kenny. Spill.” She smiled, with a raised eyebrow.
I laughed nervously, “There’s nothing to tell. We’re just friends.” She shook her head. I knew what people were saying. “I’m serious, Kris. Just friends who went to the aquarium together.” I defended, moving my hands in a definitive motion.
“Girl! His eyes were on you, not the damn fish.” She rolled her eyes, “How are you both so clueless?!” She threw her hands up, flabbergasted. She quickly whipped her phone out and pulled up the shark tank picture again and showed it to me, zoomed in on Kenny’s face. “Those are heart eyes, girl. He is in love.”
There was no way Kenny was in love with me. “Kris, he is literally married to wrestling. No time for relationships.” I pointed out.
“But he always makes time for you.” She said before walking away to film a bit for BTE. Kenny did always seem to make time for me. I tried to shake her words as I continued my way to the EVP room. Cody had sent me a text earlier in the day saying that creative had a storyline they wanted to pitch to me.
I opened the door and Cody was there with The Bucks, a writer, and Tony Khan. “Hey, sorry, I rushed here as fast as I could.” I apologized for my tardiness and grabbed a seat next to Cody.
“Peyton, we want you to have a with Penelope for the number one contender slot for the AEW Women’s Championship.” Tony started to explain. A huge smile crossed my face. Then Nick added, “We want you to face Shida at ‘Winter is coming’”. I shook my head.
“No fuck--” Cody gave me a stern look, telling me to watch my language, “I mean, no friggin’ way?!?” I couldn’t hide my excitement. Tony handed me the contract for the match at ‘Winter Is Coming’. I looked down at the papers in my hand. “This is legit? Are you sure there isn’t anyone else who deserves this before me?” I questioned, looking up from the packet that held my future.
“We have pulled all the stats, plus we took in account fan base and Dark comments. You beat Penelope, and you’ll be number one contender.” Matt laid it all out, and I just needed to take it. All it took was one smooth signature and it was booked.
“Well good evening, folks. It’s Wednesday night, and you know what that means! Thanks for joining us here on Dynamite. Boy do we have a lined up show for you.” I listened to JR announce as I paced back and forth in front of the gorilla monitors. The announce team of JR, Tony, and Excalibur went on to discuss the card for the night.
To say I was nervous was an understatement. Sure, I had been in the title picture before, but this was completely different. This would be my first title shot in AEW, plus Penelope and I were kicking off the show. That was something that didn’t happen often. Cody was waiting by the curtain, like he always did before my matches, to wish me luck. He immediately could tell that something was wrong. “What’s up, Pey?”
“I’m worried about Kip. It has me thrown off. He’s a wild card.” I mumbled anxiously as I bit at my nails. Cody nodded, giving me a knowing look. He pulled me in by my shoulder.
“You’ll be just fine, kid.” He smiled. I wanted to ask what he meant, but Kenny’s voice filled my ears before I could.
“Hey, Princess!” I could tell my face lit up at the sight of him. “I just wanted to say good luck. And ask if you wanted to grab dinner after?” Cody looked at the both of us and sighed. I knew he wanted the heat to die down from the Aquarium photo, for my sake. He had told me many times. I didn’t care though and neither did Kenny.
“Of course, Omega. Thank you.” I replied quickly, throwing my arms around him for a tight hug. Cody grabbed my attention, letting me know it was my time. I released Kenny, but he grabbed my hand, giving it a light ‘you got this’ squeeze, before letting go.
“The following contest, with a twenty minute time limit, is scheduled for one fall, introducing first from Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, being accompanied to the ring by Kip Sabian, Penelope Ford.” I watched as they made their way into the ring and gave a disgusting show of PDA.
I fiddled with my jacket, waiting for my music to hit. I instantly regretted letting Brandi talk me into wearing a choker. It suddenly felt too tight. I didn’t have a chance to remove it before I heard the familiar start of “My songs know what you did in the dark”. I composed myself and fixed my hair. I walked out the “Heel” tunnel and onto the ramp.
“And her opponent, from Atlanta, Georgia, well they call her the “Dream Killer”, Peyton Rhodes.” Justin announced my name and the crowd still cheered, which made my heart happy. I quickly made my way into the squared circle, so the bell could ring.
The match started with a few back and forth blows. Penelope got me into a side headlock, before quickly doing an arm drag. I shot back up to my feet. Again, we locked up, before I drove a knee up into her stomach. I had quickly gained the upper hand in the match. I was getting ready to drop her with a DDT, when I saw Kip pacing outside of the ring. I flipped him a bird and slammed Penelope’s head into the mat. As expected, Kip got involved. He slid into the ring, getting in my face. “Get out of the ring, Kip!” I yelled and he stepped a bit closer. I thought he was going to push me back away from him.
Suddenly, the crowd erupted in cheers as a figure jumped the barricade and slid into the ring. It was Mox. He pushed Kip back and into the ropes, making him fall through. This distracted Penelope and I took that chance to hit the “dream killer”, my finisher. I got the three count and the bell rang. Aubrey raised my hand and Justin announced me as the winner.
Jon was still standing at the tunnels when I climbed through the ropes and walked up the stairs. I extended a hand to show respect, which he gladly took and pulled me in for a hug. The fans went wild. “What a reunion it was tonight for Peyton Rhodes and Jon Moxley. Now that Rhodes has defeated Ford, she will go on to face AEW Women’s champion Hikaru Shida for the title at “Winter Is Coming’ on December 2nd.” Tony announced for the viewers at home.
Cody again was waiting by the curtain for me. “Great match, sis. Jon, thanks for having her back.” He said, like it was all planned. I needed to know what the hell Jon was thinking.
“Dude! You guys are trending!” Matt yelled as he walked up, shoving his phone in my face. It was like I was in a daze. I had no idea why Jon, of all people, got involved in my match. Now, we were trending on social media. Before I could reply, I was being pulled by an assistant to do an interview with Dasha.
“I’m backstage with Peyton Rhodes. Peyton, what was that?” She asked. I quickly got into character. I flipped my hair over my shoulder, attitude immediately crossing my face.
“What was that? You’re asking the hard-hitting questions, Dasha.” I mocked her, before continuing. “ Let me tell you what that was. That was me rising to the top of this division, just like I said I would.” I stepped closer to her mic, “That was me letting Shida know that her days as champion are numbered.” I turned to the camera. “Hold onto that title tight, Shida. Because it will be mine very, very soon.”
Dasha nodded, looking annoyed with how bitchy I was being, “But everyone wants to know what Jon Moxley was doing?” She inquired, pushing the mic back in my face.
I scoffed, “No comment.” I quickly walked away to find out what the hell just happened. Why did Jon come help me? I tried to find him, but no one had seen where he went. So I settled for finding my brother. I went to his trailer, and banged on the door.
“Open up, Rhodes.” I shouted, and Brandi came to the door. I looked at her, fuming. “Where is my brother?” I snapped. She just moved to the side, letting me in. Cody was sitting on the couch, like he was waiting for me. What surprised me, was to see Kenny sitting there, too.
“Glad you could join us, sis. Take a seat.” Cody motioned for me to sit next to Kenny. I cocked a brow, confused, but took the seat anyway. I looked at Kenny about to say something before Cody cut me off. “Since you two are wanting to be the talk of AEW, and have no intentions to listen to me or my advice, Khan wants you to work together.” My mouth dropped.
“What the hell does that mean?” I growled. Kenny looked at me, shocked, that I was angry that we got to work together. I saw his smile drop instantly. “I mean, Don’t get me wrong, Ken, I would love to work a story with you. But I can’t do the whole ‘escort/manager’ thing again.” I objected, not going down that road again.
Kenny nodded in understanding, “I know. And you know I would never do that to you, Princess.” He ensured me, placing a gentle hand on my knee.
“I would also never do that to you, Peyton. Trust me, this will be amazing.” Cody predicted, “We have a lot to talk about.” He smirked, taking a seat across from us. “After you left the meeting last week, Tony pulled me aside.” Cody started to explain.
My mind was racing. What did Tony have in store for me? For Kenny? How in a matter of two weeks did I become number one contender and get to work with my best friend? I looked over at Kenny, who’s blue eyes were focused on what my brother was saying. He looked so happy. I wondered if it was because we got to do a storyline together or because he was getting his shot at the AEW world title?
“Tony wants you to turn on Moxley.” Those seven words drew me from my thoughts. My whole body went rigid. Did he just say what I think he said? I looked over at Kenny who was smiling like a cat who caught the canary.
“He wants me to do what?” I asked, wanting Cody to clarify what the fuck he just said to me.
#Kenny Omega#kenny omega imagine#cody rhodes#cody rhodes imagine#jon moxley#jon moxley imagine#brandi rhodes#brandi rhodes imagine#kris statlander#aew imagine
36 notes
·
View notes
Text
TF2 RED Headcanons by an idiot that can’t pay attention well enough to read the comics
Back on my bullshit, because I apparently can’t shut up tonight. This is gonna be a big, possibly in-cohesive mess, and will probably have more focus on Scout, Pyro, Sniper, and Spy since they’re my favs, but I still felt like writing down all my dumb headcanons/ideas regarding everyone’s favorite mercenaries (at the moment at least; I might make another post like this later on, hopefully after I’ve read the comics)! Sorry if any of these seem OOC, I’m just goofin’! (Putting this under a readmore because WOW this got LONG)
Every Sunday afternoon, Scout, Pyro, and eventually Sniper when he tells everyone that he's a trans guy, hold a makeshift “Trans Buddy Club” meeting, which mostly consists of Scout mindlessly rambling about drama on base, Pyro nodding along, and Sniper occasionally adding his two cents/spilling tea as well.
Scout can speak fluent French, on account of his mom making sure to teach it to him so he could have more of a connection to his dad, but no one found out until a little after Spy told Scout he was his dad. It wasn’t long after this that Scout revealed that this entire time, he’s known every single thing that Spy's ever said to him in French, but he didn't say anything because he thought it would be funny to keep the ruse going (also because he really liked being praised in secret). Cue Spy freaking tf out because oh no, now his kid knows that he's secretly a huge softie for not only his son, but his whole team.
Sometimes Spy and Scout talk shit in French right there in front of the team, but no one has any fucking idea what they’re saying and to be honest it’s pissing Soldier off the most, much to the father and son duo’s amusement.
Pyro secretly has a little black rabbit named Lucifer (Lucy for short) in their bedroom, which they only take out to get some fresh air and hop around very early in the morning, before anyone else is awake. The only people who know are Medic, Spy, and surprisingly enough Soldier, whose raccoons became friends with Lucy.
Sniper has a goldfish in his RV, but it died three months after he joined the team; he has no idea though because Miss Pauling replaces it every time one passes away, so now Sniper is convinced he has the world’s oldest goldfish.
Scout and Soldier both really want a dog, but they're not allowed to have one on-base. :(
((Heavy plans on sneaking a dog in next Christmas and no one can stop him. It’s gonna be a Border Collie named Bandit, and it gets the most attached to Scout and Heavy.))
Demo is no longer allowed to make mixed drinks for parties; the last time he did, he got everyone so shitfaced that they had to cancel work for three days in a row in order to recover from it.
Continuing off of that: drunk headcanons.
Demoman: Unassuming drunk. Acts like he usually does, unless he’s gotten particularly shitfaced for a party/event, in which case he’ll be slurring so bad that no one can understand him anymore.
Pyro: Giggly drunk. Is just laughing the whole fucking night at nothing in particular, which scares anyone who’s still sober. If they’re too far gone, they’ll start mumbling something that sounds like it’s in Spanish.
Spy: Party drunk. An absolute fucking mess, he’s trying to impress everyone and keep their attention on him, which usually leads to him standing on tables and dancing until he falls and passes out.
Sniper: Sleepy drunk. Out like a fucking light at the slighest bit of alcohol. If he wakes up and keeps drinking though, he’ll just be slurring like Demo, only with a lot more anger in his voice. Let him sleep, or he’ll fucking stab you to death.
Scout: Clumsy drunk. Bumps into anything and everything; eventually has to be given a sippy cup for his alcohol because he dropped three glasses in a row. Talks even faster than usual, until he accidentally fucking pukes on someone.
Soldier: Calm drunk. Instead of getting loud and aggressive like most would think/fear, he’s just… chillin'. Just watches the shitshow as it happens, not even laughing when people get hurt/fall down. Kinda terrifying if we’re being honest here.
Engineer: Depressed drunk. His depression goes through the roof if he has too much, so he doesn't drink more than a few beers if he can help it. If he does accidentally drink too much, he'll be sobbing his eyes out in no time flat.
Heavy: Cuddly drunk. It’s very, very hard to get him drunk, since he’s really good at holding his liquor, but if you do, he’s gonna be hugging and carrying everyone he can get his hands on; you can expect him to have Medic and/or Pyro on his lap once he’s drunk enough.
Medic: Angry drunk. He wants to start fights with fucking everyone, all his rage coming out once he’s had a few too many; god help anyone who tries to stop him. Luckily for all involved, Heavy is more than capable of holding him still until he tires himself out.
BONUS Miss Pauling: Dumbass drunk. With too many bottles in her, she’s gonna be the one shouting and encouraging Spy to act reckless, while also encouraging Engie to drink more because quitting is for losers. Will pass out within an hour or so of downing her first drink.
BONUS The Administrator: Stereotypical drunk. Slurring, stumbling, she’s got the whole nine yards, but she’ll be damned before she let’s anyone see her that messed up. Secretly sips wine at work.
Okay, back to my rambling.
My personal headcanon names and ages for Scout’s older brothers, going from oldest to youngest: Grant 34, Timothy 32, Jacob 31, Arthur 31, Patrick 30, Malcolm 27, Curtis 26, and Jeremy (Scout) 23.
((Also, I’mma go off on my headcanon personalities for them, which are based off of how I’ve tried portraying them in my "Jeremy" fic.))
Grant - 34 years old - Bisexual - Occupation: Veteran/Construction worker - Personality: the oldest of the bunch, he takes it upon himself to keep his little brothers in line/help Ma out as much as he can. Enlisted in the Air Force after he graduated high school, and still takes a lot of pride in his veteran status after serving overseas three separate times. The family peacemaker.
Timothy - 32 years old - Homosexual - Occuptaion: Cartoonist - Personality: the gentlest of his brothers, he often gets roped into helping Grant keep the pack from running too wild. Bit of a softie; loves his husband and loves his job. Closest relationship is with Scout. Doesn’t approve of Scout being a merc but is too scared to say so. The family heart.
Jacob - 31 years old - Heterosexual - Occupation: Freelance guitarist - Personality: the firstborn of the only set of twins, Jacob is a lot more abrasive and instigating than his twin brother. Can’t grow a beard for shit, which pisses him off. Doesn’t get along well with Timmy, despite them both being talented and devoted artists. The family sword.
Arthur - 31 years old - Pansexual - Occupation: Carpenter - Personality: the second born of the only set of twins, Arthur is far more outgoing and nonchalant than his twin brother. Has a beard and loves it more than life. Secretly has a boyfriend, but is too nervous to come out. Gets along better with Jacob after they’ve become adults. The family shield.
Patrick - 30 years old - Heterosexual - Occupation: Hairdresser - Personality: probably the least social of all of the brothers, he prefers staying out of sight and out of mind tbh. Used to practice cutting everyone’s hair when they were kids. Doesn’t talk to his brothers that much, mostly due to being busy/forgetting to call more. The family shadow.
Malcolm - 27 years old - Heteromantic Asexual - Occupation: Wrestler - Personality: the most aggressive and physically competitive of his brothers, there’s nothing he won’t do to win a fight, save for using weapons/lethal force. Hard to get along with, but he still loves his brothers to bits, and was overprotective of Scout when they were younger. The family instigator.
Curtis - 26 years old - Heterosexual - Occupation: Bartender - Personality: was a total fucking mama’s boy growing up, and constantly got in trouble with his brothers for tattling on them. Still argues with Scout every time they see each other. Wants to make Ma proud, but it’s hard for him to keep a job for very long. The family drifter.
Jeremy - 23 years old - Transmale Pansexual - Occupation: Mercenary - Personality: (This is mostly for how he was as a kid) was constantly following his brothers around (especially Malcolm) in hopes of getting in on the fun. Was always treated as the family baby, so everyone was a bit scared to wrestle/fight with him for fear of getting him hurt. Very close to Timmy and Ma. The family runt.
No one on RED team can fucking drive well, save for MAYBE Sniper, but even he hates doing it. Spy gets so goddamn mad within two seconds of driving, Pyro can't stop swerving, Scout drives like a 16 year old who hasn't realized their own mortality yet, Medic jumps at every little inconsistency on the road, Heavy shouts at other drivers for being too slow/fast, Demo's depth perception is shit, Engie drives like a 90 year old grandmother, and Soldier is fine except he will literally shoot at other drivers for tailgating him/cutting him off.
The whole team has designated “Team Bonding Days” thanks to Miss Pauling, which involves playing board games, card games, and video games (in a slightly more modernized AU) together… this, of course, goes badly sometimes. The worst incident they ever had was a bad game of Monopoly that almost ended Heavy and Medic's friendship.
Uno is forever banned from Team Bonding Days. No explanation is needed.
Off the battlefield and in the base, Miss Pauling had the team set up a chore wheel, which is only occasionally followed. Engie is the most dedicated to following it, while Demo and Sniper try everything in their power to avoid cleaning the base.
Spy sometimes disguises himself as other teammates in order to get out of doing his chores, which has led to a lot of shouting matches that ended in Spy being forced to admit it was his fault.
Spy's favorite teammates to disguise himself as are Engie and Scout. He likes being Engie because he gets to be more affectionate with people without being found out, and he can act as Scout incredibly easily due to knowing him so well (tbh he's so good at masquerading as Scout that it's scary).
For Halloween, everyone put their names in Soldier's hat, then proceeded to pull out other teammates’ names to dress up as for their Halloween party. I dunno exactly who would be who, except that Scout traded around to get Spy, steals one of Spy's suits, and just goes around the party bonking people with a plastic baguette he bought online and speaking in a purposefully bad accent.
Spy: Mon fils, you can speak perfect French and you fucking know it. Please stop making a fool of ton père.
Scout: Hohoho, wee wee, I am a fucking frog that gets pegged by baguettes, hoho!
((Spy is this fucking close to committing filicide.))
Everyone can actually cook pretty well, but only very specific things for each merc: Demo can mix and blend drinks (not just alcoholic ones) like it's nothing, Pyro and Heavy like baking, Medic can barbecue anything, Scout knows how to make a lot of shit from scratch (thanks, Ma), Spy and Engie can grill like the true dads they are, Soldier will deep fry every piece of food he eats, and Sniper makes the best soups and stews imaginable.
In order of least to most messy bedrooms: Spy, Heavy, Engie, Sniper, Pyro, Demoman, Medic, Scout, and Soldier. You'd think Scout's would be the worst, but Soldier's room looks like a literal fucking war-zone.
Even when they're not working but get injured in some way (namely from shenanigans/horseplay), people will straight up kill themselves in order to respawn without the injury. The pettiest thing anyone ever respawned off-duty for was Medic suiciding over a tiny ass paper cut.
Demoman is scarily competent at the weirdest of times. For instance, Engie was once trying to figure out how to fix an issue on one of his turrets, only for Demo to stumble over, completely shitfaced, and point out the problem as well as the solution, before passing out under Engie's worktable. Demo doesn't remember this at all.
The first time Engie swore in front of the team in excess (due to dropping a hammer on his foot while he was tinkering), everyone was absolutely horrified because they had only ever heard him say “fiddlesticks” and the like.
Medic's room may not be the messiest, but goddamn is his office a fucking bomb waiting to go off 90% of the time. No one but Medic can find anything in the mess, which is just fine by him.
Heavy likes to sing (mostly just to Sasha) when he's cleaning her in the locker room. The others try to be within hearing range when he does this, because holy fuck, Heavy is a very good singer! He mostly just sings soft songs/lullabies, so his singing is sometimes used by the team insomniacs to help them get some much needed rest.
Okay, another group one. The mercs during shopping trips together:
Demoman: Sneaks a shit ton of alcohol into the cart when no one's looking. Starts complaining if he has to be at the store for too long; will try and sneak away to go home at least once during the trip. Accidentally bumps into a display case and makes a huge fucking mess.
Pyro: Sits obediently in the cart the whole time, occasionally nabbing candy and stuffed animals off of nearby shelves. Will puppy-dog eyes their way into getting everything they grabbed, no matter how much it is.
Spy: Somehow managed to steal an employee uniform and he pretends to work at the store the whole trip; the other mercs keep accidentally falling for it and asking for his help. This all goes to shit when a Karen starts shouting at him over something he didn't do, and he straight up slaps her.
Sniper: King of forgetting wtf was on the list and just grabs shit on the grounds of “Doc said we needed milk, right?” and other such excuses. Knows where everything is despite never having come here before.
Scout: “Gimme the list, I can get everythin' in, like, ten minutes!” Wants to speedrun grocery shopping due to years of shopping with his mom and brothers. Will run loose if left unsupervised and accidentally bust ass on some spilled milk.
Soldier: The one who spilled the milk that Scout busts his ass on. Insists he knows where he's going, but doesn't. Gets into a fistfight with a soccer mom while everyone's waiting to check out; the soccer mom won.
Engineer: Has a full, printed list of everything the team needs, which is organized by aisle number. Is the one who gives into Pyro's begging. Team Dad; keeps an eye on everyone and stops the soccer mom from murdering Soldier.
Heavy: Pushes the cart the entire time. Spends way too money on stuff in the protein shake aisle. At one point runs the cart down the aisle and let's go because Pyro wanted him to, and it ends up crashing into Demo.
Medic: Argues with the pharmacists at the pharmacy counter. Got lost with Soldier until they found Scout unconscious, so he had to perform CPR in the dairy aisle and a fucking paramedic criticized him the whole time; the paramedic hasn't been seen since.
BONUS Miss Pauling: Tries to more or less chaperone this shitshow of a shopping trip. Starts out cheerful and happy, ends up threatening to put child leashes on every last one of these dumbasses.
After Spy taught him how to dance in Expiration Date, Scout goes to him occasionally for advice, such as how to change a tire, how to cook certain things, how tf to do laundry, etc. Spy secretly loves that Scout does this, and tries to help him as much as he can.
Everyone on the team has called Engie “Dad” at least once, even Spy and Medic. No one comments on it.
Medic has been known to go on hour long tirades about anti-vaxxers, with Engie sometimes joining in.
Heavy buys Pyro stuffed animals during his trips to visit his family, which has started a tradition of everyone buying Pyro stuffed animals/toys when they go somewhere without them. Pyro's room is starting to look like a preschooler’s dream bedroom.
Scout calls his mom every other Friday, and he’ll occasionally let his teammates talk to her. Soldier always goes on and on about how good a soldier Scout has been (Scout cries like a baby), Medic tells her about Scout’s latest injuries (Scout damn near chokes him over it), Sniper is just glad to talk to a mom who won’t scold him for the whole phone call, Pyro hums music while Scout’s Ma sings the lyrics for them, Heavy talks about living in huge families with her, Demo asks her how she’s doing and if he can help her out at all, Engie is polite and also praises Scout, and Spy just tells her he’ll call her later before hanging up (Scout punches him for being rude to his mama).
Spy calls Scout's mom on the Fridays that Scout doesn't, mostly to check on her and sometimes to get into some, uh, “steamy” conversations over the phone. Sniper overheard a conversation between them once and now he can't look Scout or Spy in the eyes anymore.
And that's all I've got for right now! I hope you all liked my stupid headcanons!
#tf2#tf2 scout#tf2 spy#tf2 pyro#tf2 sniper#tf2 soldier#tf2 engie#tf2 engineer#tf2 heavy#tf2 medic#tf2 demoman#tf2 demo#tf2 ms pauling#tf2 mercs#tf2 administrator#tf2 scout's mom#dad!spy#dadspy#spydad#tf2 headcanons#i'm sorry for once again infodumping on main
163 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
bbubbleo
IT'S BITTERSWEET
citrus-soda
a limon???
soyspance097
I'm a Free-Floating Organism
luxurysexshop
Lush.