#i would fuck him nasty style
Note
would your stans be the type to solve disagreements with a just dance battle since theyre pacifists
yes...i support this.
***my stans both claim they wont stop putting up peace signs in pictures until theres world peace lmaooo
i am not sure, however...that they would win many.
cue me combining the complicated answer to your simple question with some ncu dance headcannons, but i do hope they thrill you!
but alright, so i said that because...
...i am not convinced whatsoever that pep!stan has rhythm.
which musically, of course, he is very gifted. he can sing and play guitar really well, could probably pick up other instruments if he tried.
one of my favorite headstannons actually ( and i think its present across both stans ) is that he has perfect pitch...and when kyle and him are arguing and kyle is lecturing him stan gets suuuuper annoying and starts being like "a, b, e flat, wow f sharp" KYLE GETS SOOOOO MAD ITS SO DKHSDLHDS hes so annoying help
however, being musically gifted does not mean...you can dance.
and in the baggy ass, gigantic ass skater boy jeans, the gigantic slouchy metal hoodies, the big beanie, his greasy ass blonde bangs all up in his ( cute little ) face and his vans untied...its a no from me.
like dead sober he's just hella stiff, has no interest in dancing, every single prom or dance he's been to with wendy was actually hell omg
BUUUUUUUT....drunk stan ;)
he will get SOOO WEIRD!!! hes down like oh my god, like dead sober stan is like ready to die if there is dancing, drunk stan is pulling you on the dance floor, sloppy as hell, spinnin you around, kissin ur hand!
like is it good dancing? no absolutely not? is it lit? absolutely.
okay like specifically, him and kenny? TOGETHER? it goes so hard like stan learned dance moves for one reason and one reason only and was to turn up to parties and absolutely fuck! it! up!
WAIT OK THE FOOTBALL ONE WHEN STAN SHOWS UP TO THE FUNCTION LATE AS HELL STILL IN HIS FOOTBALL JERSEY??? I JUST KNOW KYLE IS SWEATING WHEN HE SMIRKS AT HIM
also i just remembered that i canonically after winning shot roulette, had extremely drunk stan get up on the kitchen counter and drop it low to im sexy and i know it and collect dollar bills like a stripper and..
u know what!!!! it was definitely a low budget strip tease at best, very messy, the man has litrally no ass, but he is FINE so u know what, he looked good, he put on a s-h-o-w and no one was complaining!!!! especially not kyle when stans shirt flew off and hit him in the face.
whEW!
....a lot of dreams abt that one, huh kyle?
( i do think that all night kyle is trying to be Responsible and is like
[ throwback pep chapter 2 to kyles stmwtp contact photo ]
i should take stan home he should not be drunk and doing hand(stan)ds breaking the keg stand record....but then stans shirt falls down, he gets football boy ab-ed and winked at so hes like...nevermind thats so crazy...he can have five more minutes this is my favorite show <3 salhds )
hooooowever! moving right along:
conversely, i do think ravenstan...can definitely Dance.
but. BUT!!!!!!!
i will say...he had to be TAUGHT!!!!!! PAINSTAKINGLY!!!!! HOW TO DANCE!!!!!! it was a Miserable process. it was so painful, oh my god. hes so awkward, god bless him. he was SOOO BAD. he was like guys i cannot do this???? i give up!!!!!! and kenny and the cd boys were like u can do this rae!!! this is ur Dream and he was like...sigh...SIGH.
and did...eventually get...honestly? kind of good? hello? excuse me???
RAVENSTAN???? HELLLLOOOOOO
okay also i do think he had a small boost like i do think that rm!sharon definitely had rhythm af and used to spin shelley and stan around the kitchen making dinner with the mexican radio station blaring. <333
( so hes got a lil bit of That going on...lets go half mexican ravenstan )
but also...if u want to be Absolutely Miserable...pre!raven!stan who was 11 was learning how to formally dance around that time because of the sadie hawkins dance, but more specifically...because of shelley's birthday...specifically...
her quinceanara.
which she never got to have...
...because she died three days before her birthday. :)
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
fun!
stan still knows those moves by the way! he is haunted! Hi, PTSD!
aka Phantom There's Shelley Disorder!
but yes, raven learned how to dance because he had to learn how to dance, but that does not mean he likes doing it or that he is sober.
he also gets to coast mostly on sex appeal and being hot and looking into ur eyes, so like if he fucks up its kinda just like damn thats crazy i didnt see anything but ur very pretty eyes raven whatever u want, hansome!!!!! its a lot of powersliding and hip stuff...whew! lis...ten.
Aaaaaaaanyways!
tldr; just dance in front of every1? i think he would eat tbh its his job
BUT PRIVATELY? uhhhh...i think he would be nervous as fuck and on top of that i think jersey kyle would look at him once and he would fall in his ass and fall into something and break his arm its that unserious
so basically neither of my stans can dance, but both of them can dance way better drunk bc they are relaxed and raven was just forced at gunpoint to learn how to Move so he can...
and 2 well tbh. ;)
sahdkshdls
ALRIGHT I ADDED MY KYLE HEADCANNONS JUST FOR FUNSIES!
ok i went back and forth on this for a while.
i was like do i give kyle no rhytmn? can he dance?
my answer is that when both my kyles are dead sober theyre like so far infused into the wall that they are literally the structural integrity of the house party, like so far from the dance floor, judging literally everyone, sneering at everyone, disapproving glares...
and naturally this makes u thirsty because its hard work, u know, being a full time fucking HATER
gotta drink the haterade which, ofc, is a hard cider/seltzer for pep!kyle and is probably cheap grocery store wine for jersey
BUT WHEN HE HAS LIKE TWO OR THREE OF THOSE
ohhhhhh my god
drunk!kyle ;)))))))))))))))
DRUNK KYLE IS SO FUN!!!! HES FOR THE STREETS!!!!!!!
they gave him way too much ass and for no goddamn reason like hello???? HELLO???? like i think he does his little white mom dance moves his little taylor swift awkward bird boy sways HES VIBING!!! tbh i think hes kind of good??? like??? okay kyle???? lets go bitch!!!
ALSO IF MEGAN THEE MOTHERFUCKING STALLION COMES ON HE IS RAPPING AND THROWING SERIOUS ASSSSSSSSSSSSSS
like do not think i forgot that marjorine taught kyle how to twerk and that jerseys entire running playlist is just like Fuck Being Good Im A Bad Bitch!!!! like just iconic loud female rap for like 30 minutes skhdksskdhks IT GETS DIRTY FREAKY NAAAASTY IN THERE!!!
like stan and kyle in any ncuniverse dancing at the function is INSAAAAAAAAANE like it is an event!!! stan is like okayokayokaaay!
go white boy gooooooooo!!!!
hes really just in shock and awe, every time kyle gets loose enough to hit the dance floor its the best night of his lifeeeee i mean that omg
Heart Eyes Emoji! he is SIMPING!
( honestly i think if u specifically put raven and jersey on the dance floor turnt the fuck up it would go viral like sheeeeeeeeeeeeesh ohmygod...is it hot in here??? ravesey stan twitter Blowing Up! )
tbh my fav style at parties hc specifically like pepstyle when they start dating is that whereas stan would usually be like the last person to leave a party, when him and kyle start dating, they truly just get schwifty, makeout against the fridge and irish goodbye everyone like out of the blue, kyle is like i want to go home ;) and stan is like yEAH BYE EVERYONE SEE YOU LMAOOO KSHDLSD literally sprints out the door holding kyles hand!!! unserious!!! boys!!! down horrendous!
also to be fair jersey kyle is just such a tangle of long limbs but he took really strict and rigorous ballet courses so professionally and in refined settings he dances very beautifully...but at parties...when hes Blasted...its a mess, its so unhinged but hes REEEEALLY CUUUTE
one day i will put drunk!jersey and raven in a room and when that day comes u will all simply not be ready but im warning u anyways. <3
i did not answer your question very well, but i hope this was fun.
-uncle nina, who is...not even sure what i was trying to say?
p.s. wait i know he doesnt count technically but toolshed stan can do crazy acrobatics and shit so he can dance for Surely and would actually probably DESTROY! just dance but probably pretends to be really bad for his secret identity...human kite!kyle i want to say is an awkward alien king like learning english and strange earth customs was hard enough dancing is so weird he is not good at it...Inchresting
me in denial abt the grimy fucked up weirdly political dystopian in terms of mutants and public judgements and propaganda tfbw stan-kyle-kite-shed love square au rip oh my god dont let me do it guys
#help#i hope that made sense but im not totally sure#pep stan cannot dance he just stops giving a fuck when he drinks and gets sloppy but charismatic#raven can dance but he Had to learn & it was painful but now he can sexc lead singer boy dance rly well BUT ITS HIS JOB even if he hates it#both my kyles are stiff and awkward when not drunk and will not dance and will heckle you probably#kyles on like 2 or more drinks? they are taylor swift lanky white boy white mom dancing#throwing crazy obscene amounts of ass#its a show its quite a time to be alive i cant say if its graceful but its definetly filthy dirty nasty i luv u kyle#also fucked up! jersey kyle specifically gets really cute and red and giggly and really forward and touchy so...whew!#when that day comes...wow...what a day...praying 4 u ravenstan...good luck solider#i love pepstyle showing up to the function poaching the drinks and leaving to hook up#they are my heroes oh my god they are messy and i love them#to b fair i do think dating!ravesey would do the same shit smh#like if they are at an influencer event and jerseykyle is like im leaving or gives him The Look...its so over omg#someone asked me abt my style hcs im so excited#edit: also no1 let me do the weird intense scifi tfbw au im not supposed to omg#but like if i split them into heroes and villians due to public perception of physical mutations?#and beauty standards and xenophobia against specifically aliens in that universe and more exhausted college students#if u see that in the tags one day...its not me...shhhhh
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MICHEL IS SO CUTE. MICHEL IS SO CUTE
#fatamoru#I need to fuck him nasty style and I’m sorry for saying that bc I know it would make him cry :(#he’s my Blorbo I have to say. Blorbo from my thing no one cares about#MY WHITE HAIRED ANIME BOY!!!!!!!
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his hair is literally so disgusting i would fuck him in a heartbeat
#most disgusting man alive#i would fuck him doggy style and pull on those dreads until they ripped out of his nasty scalp#bishop.txt
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city elf origin for hound dragonage… the inherent rage fits them perfectly 🔪🩸
#like DOGS shianni 🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️#i literally don’t know what vauhgn says after a certain point bc i kill him so fast#welcome to the hellscape#jack healy#gonna romance alistair but realistically hound would be trying to fuck sten. nasty style
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dont remember if i ever was this angry at anyone before
#keep thinking abt [redacted]#wack. tbh#like embarrassing idgaf abt this guy why is he still on my mind.#this is some ego feeding shit like its cool to hate and be angry or something?#its just that i think he should be corrected. but the system is not in agreement on this.#guy was like my best friend for a couple months never even asked abt the system lol n theyr like looking out for him#or i guess mby theyre looking out for me/us. so as to not go to jail/be haunted by our choices our whole lives.#whatever#i know how to make it stop it is just taking time and effort. because its like 1. kind of addictive so i keep accidentaly/habitually reinfo#cing it and 2. the other option is to face that im hurt and i cant do shit about it realy other than ... LeArN from it or some shit#like learn what? i already went full schizoid over this.#maybe i dont need to learn shit lol maybe i already did it :)#so just the pain then. and overcoming the hate habit. and like just letting it go and forgetting abt it#but the thing is that he needs to die i think.#i want to kill kill kill kill him so bad.#i hope hes not reading this in case i ask to meet him again sometime. for business.#maybe thats why its still on my mind#because im unwilling to let go of the idea that we could help eachother if i wasnt so stupid hurt over some little thing (the nasty shit he#pulled that hurt me lol) like bro. bro. im not going to just get over it. like thts rly the thing. 3-5 yrs ago i would have totally just#elected to get over it and make up or smth like that.#and im v unwilling to do that now while lots of my brain architecture is still built for that interaction style.#so when im thinking kill kill kill kill im going to [redacted as fuck im not putting that shit online this is already bad enough] mby im#actually killing the mental structures that make me a target for abuse :)))))))))#all is good in the world i love myself and my life. and absolutely no one else. except my mom and my friends and that one other guy who als#might read my blog but i really doubt it bc he doesnt evenrly ask me how im doing or anything . its cool though. for now.
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BAD INFLUENCE 2・｡♪ LN4 [+ OP81]
( lando norris x fem!reader ft. oscar piastri)
READ PART 1!
IN WHICH. oscar never knew getting high with lando and y/n entailed... this. but he's not complaining.
WARNINGS. 18+, MINORS DNI!, threesome, oral sex (m & f rec.), referenced tit job, face sitting and anal (m rec.), a bit of sub!oscar because it's my roman empire, high hotness pt. 3574144, unprotected in v sex, reverse cowgirl, doggy style, squirting, realisations (they love each other, your honour), they're just nasty omg what have i written 😭
NOTE. PART 2 HAS ARRIVED!!! many of you asked and so i have to deliver amirite?!?!? credit to @mariahcarreyyy for the main smut scene!! i hope it's good enough for ya <3 enjoy luvss.
has now been edited.
‧₊˚✩彡 taglist @laciijane @ferrarrigirl @norrizzandpia @mimi-luvzyu @multifandomwhore-003 (use askbox if you'd like to be added!)
"gonna suck you off so good, osc," lando moans in his ear, breath warm and words dirty, "you like that?"
and as oscar begs him to, he thinks that maybe getting high with lando and y/n isn't so bad afterall.
-.-.-.-.-
oscar feels fucking spent.
his cock lays limp, yet tingles with the undercurrent of arousal, and honest to God, if he fucked once more, he may never cum again.
thing is, he had thought the same 2 orgasms ago, and roughly an hour prior, but, as if the weed trickled a steady flow of dopamine into his bloodstream, the more they fucked, the more he hungered for another orgasm.
had his cock sucked completely dry by his teammate (how the fuck is lando this good at giving head?) as y/n sat on his face and he had all his prayers answered, before another climax was scooped out of him when y/n gave him a good tit job. never had he thought seeing his cum drizzled upon a girl's boobs like icing would be that cathartic, but it only gets worse when lando, the fucking nerve of that man, licks every drop like it were the remnants of a melting popsicle.
"your mouth, lando," oscar had whined out in absolute despair because, one day, it's gonna wipe him out like he never existed.
his teammate only smirked, lips oiled with spit and cum, before dragging his tongue up his girlfriend's neck, eyes hooked to oscar's, and shoving his tongue down y/n's throat. the noises were downright pornographic, pumping more blood to oscar's dick, and they ended up fucking, reverse cowgirl, as the girl wanked oscar off. he swore his dick would fall right right there and then, everything felt too good that there had to be a compromise, but he was yet to figure what that was. if there even was one.
wished he could say they were done, sated to the point where alarms for their flight tomorrow would be like whispers in a rainstorm. however, no matter how many breaks in between they took (consisting mostly of getting more high and sharing one spliff, which made it all hotter), a seemingly innocent make out would lead to one's mouth on another's crotch, or one's cock deep inside another (oscar had never, you know... bottomed, but fucking hell, lando's got some cock on him).
with a throbbing hole, and an equally throbbing dick, inert just minutes before, oscar has the dire need to squeeze one more orgasm before he allows himself to lay at fate's mercy.
a clammy body, flush against his own pink skin, wrings themselves out of his gentle hold and sits up, "you're hard again, baby?"
it's not really phrased as a question, but rather an interesting observation, and y/n trails a hand to grab his dick. it hurts, a dull pulse of ache bouncing through the skin, but it feel so so good and oscar's head is thrown back, mouth open as a heavy moan breaks through.
lando, from y/n's other side, watches intensely as she slowly jerks oscar off. his sternum elevates and sinks in a rapid succession, legs open wide to fully accomodate the hand working between them, and lando is fully mesmerised by it all.
shy, quiet oscar, who could have a man compelled by his hole alone, and besotted by the wonders of his mouth. lando wouldn't mind a throuple, not at all.
a sloppy kiss is left on the skin of y/n's jugular, "you want him?"
he can see the curve of his girlfriend's smile, pushing against her smooth cheek, and she knows what he means.
you want him for us?
"yeah," her hand slows, and oscar whines, lando giggles at that. so desperate. "not letting him go now."
then she's taking her hand off oscar completely, pushing her body into his to whisper, "wanna fuck me while i suck your mate off?"
and oscar's eyes glitter as they snap open and his head nods so fast, it nearly tumbles off his neck, lando's sure.
he's moving, sitting up and looking at the both of them with red, lidded eyes, and they hold so much, that lando wonders how one could retain it all.
y/n is smiling and wiggling onto her front, and it galvanises lando to bare his legs wide, cock hard and weeping precum. she gives it a small teasing lick and sparks zap through his dick, causing a hand to fly to her hair. he pulls ever so slightly, just as a warning, and she's smirking, giving the head a kiss.
"how do you want it?" oscar asks from behind her, calculative. she opens her legs more, pussy glistening, "any way you want to, baby."
he hums, kneading the flesh of her ass softly in confirmation, and grabs his dick to prod at her hole. it's tentative, almost adoring, before he slides in fully, soft and slow. he's so sweet, so gentle, as if it's his first time doing such a thing, and y/n can't withold the moan that pushes past her lips.
"oh fuck, oscar."
he's whining, hands tight around her waist.
lando pushes her down on his dick, saliva lathering his skin beautifully, y/n's nose deep in the tamed bush of hair. she allows herself to breathe, eyes shut tight, but then oscar's moving, so slow and slow deep that she choking on her moans, and lando's cock.
he pulls her off just slightly, but she slides him back in, dick thick and hot in her throat, and lando's moans are whorish.
"yes, baby," he's whining, "just like that."
oscar feels his orgasm creep on him too quickly, tries to think of anything that would slow it down, but the sight before him is so nasty, he loves it. lando is completely gone, fucking into y/n's throat like it's his last ever head, two hands in her hair. he's redder than oscar's ever seen him, curls stuck to his forehead like glue and muscles straining as he pulls his girlfriend on and off his cock.
"fuckkk— shit, i'm gonna cum," he groans out, hand moving to rub into y/n's clit. she's writhing, legs shaking as she slobbers all over the dick in her mouth and lando's face turns pained with pleasure, unmoving, as his eyes roll to the back of his head.
oscar can't stop his orgasm anymore, and it tumbles over him like a tsunami, hips snapping as he fills y/n deep. the sound of high pitched moans cry from lando's mouth, body trembling with the intensity of his climax and just as oscar slowly dwindles from his high, y/n is clenching around him so tightly and a gush of wetness splashes against his thigh.
his head whips down to see his legs drenched and oscar— he's mesmerised.
"shit, y/n," it's an awed whisper, "you're squirting?"
his voice sounds fucked out, and lando's eyes are sliding open, curious. the sound of liquid falling onto the bedding is so damning, and oscar pulls out to watch as her pussy clenches and pushes more out.
it's beautiful, what he's seeing.
"oh my God."
lando gently pushes her mouth off his dick and y/n's sobbing, back arching as she convulses.
"let it all out, baby," lando caresses her cheeks, "look at you being so good for oscar."
and at that, oscar figures he could get used to this, for as long as times wills.
#‧₊˚✩彡 planete.thinks: high!lando#lando norris x reader#lando norris#oscar piastri#lando norris fic#lando norris smut#oscar piastri smut#landoscar#landoscar x reader#formula one x reader#oscar piastri x reader#f1 fic#f1 imagine#formula 1#lando norris x y/n#formula one x y/n#formula one x you
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Sexiest Podcast Character — Unscripted Bracket — Round 4
Propaganda
Glenn Close (Dungeons & Daddies):
#Propaganda for Glenn Close: one of the other PCs mentions multiple times how hot he is #Actually several characters point it out but especially Henry #Also the only person in a podcast that has to put a disclaimer about not being a BDSM podcast to have had sex during the course of the show
We didn’t do hot Glenn summer for him to LOSE. Spoilers for his story but MORE PROPAGANDA FOR YOU:
Young hot rocker dilf
Loyal to his dead wife <3
Does in fact smoke weed
BARD!! HES A BARD. HE WAS LEAD GUITAR IN HIS BAND (that he was kicked out of)
His band was a Christmas cover band btw.
Literally the fandom had hot Glenn summer which consisted of drawing him being incredibly hot and sexy
Anti government (ofc)
Kind of cringefail (Disney adult) (was on dilfs of disneyland)
Young and sexy not your style? Then how about HIM AFTER YEARS LOCKED IN A TIME PRISON WITH A DAMN HANNIBAL MASK ??
Lost an eye and wears a fucking eyepatch
One incredibly buff arm
Has a pet rat named after his son <3
Immeasurable amounts of trauma in this man- becomes progressively more unhinged
OH OLD HUMAN BARD ISNT CUTTING IT? FINE
HE BECOMES A FUCKING DEMON
A COOL HOT ONE-EYED DEMON WHO WANTS TO KILL HIS DAD (also sexy)
HE CANONICALLY ENDS CHRISTIAN HELL VIA CHRISTMAS
IS ALSO WAY OVERLEVELED
Becomes a demon hunter for the rest of his existence
Also nonwhite !!! We are done with cringefail whiteboys !!!!!!!!!
I can’t put into words ok just know he is the best plz love him.
Listen, I don't know this other character but I've seem some good arguments for her However Consider Glenn Close winning through no effort of his own in a bullshit way despite being a dick is the most in character thing ever. He leveled up three times and got a crab mech, we GOT to give him this win, it's fitting
I don’t regulate if minors follow me or not bc I’m a pretty chill space but I hope the world is aware that’s the only reason I haven’t been downright nasty about Glenn close. I’m down bad. I’m NOT in the boat of ‘Glenn isn’t sexy but I want him to win bc it’s my fandom’. I would estimate I have 200+ drawings of Glenn on my phone that AREN’T safe for work. Way more that are. Where did they come from? That’s MY business. But I tell you this fact to assure you- Glenn IS sexy. I’m not voting to represent my fandom I’m voting out of TRUTH AND LOVE. IF YOU DON’T GET IT YOU DON’T GET IT!!! I just think my level of feral over this man is more powerful than y’all realize. If you don’t get his sex appeal that’s okay, but don’t doubt that this is my truth.
Okay but Glenn made a minivan cum by talking to her so
HE HAS A BOOK THAT HE MARKS X’S AND CHECKS FOR EVERY DAY TO SEE IF THAT DAY WAS A SUCCESS OR NOT. TO SEE IF HE DID GOOD THAT DAY. ITS ALMOST ENTIRELY X’S. HE WAS CUCKED OUT OF A SON. AND A DEAD WIFE. HE DIDN’T EVEN GET TO KILL HIS DAD IN REVENGE. There’s absolutely nothing going for him except his sex appeal in his life. Nobody he loved remembers him. He lost his eye. All he has is a pet rat and friends who admit they don’t really like him that much. He was kicked out of his own band. The band was named after him. He was kicked out of the Glenn Close trio. All he could do was deez nuts the big bad and be sexy. If nothing else, then pity him. Look in his eyes. Look at his heart and soul. Do you think pickman needs this to feel good about herself? Can she not accept a loss for the sake of a pathetic father? Can she shake hands with the minivan fucker and his human gun and just take the L on this one? He did not do the BDSM episode for this I’ll tell you what. Do this for my his sake. Do it for Nick Jr, who needs the prize money to pay for his rat snacks. Do it for his son. For Morgan. Ganbatte.
Mod Note: While I will still take "bad dads are sexy" propaganda and "bad dads aren't sexy" anti-propaganda, I kindly request no more discussion on whether or not he was a bad father. This is a sexypoll, not a parentingpoll. If you see a post you strongly disagree with, you can just not reblog it.
Mod Note 2: This tournament is about fictional podcast characters. Please do not vote for the real actress Glenn Close.
Lup (The Adventure Zone: Balance):
Is somehow the hot twin between her and Taako
Lup Bluejeans (née... Taaco? Tacco? Taco? Tako? who tf knows this is why I'm going with her husband's last name. doylistly she gets her last name from her brother whose last name is given as "Taako again but spelled differently"): Hot, funny, smart and undead. Is there anything else you could want in a woman?? Well, in case there is: she's also canonically trans
LUP IS THE HOTTEST. VOTE LUP.
#Round 4#Glenn Close#Lup#Lup TAZ#Dungeons & Daddies#Dungeons and Daddies#Glenn Close DnDads#The Adventure Zone#TAZ Balance
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♥ family camping trip w/ kenny (headcanons) ♥
✢ summary: headcanons on going on a camping trip with Kenny’s family
✢ authors note: heyy since my first post blew up i'm deciding to do all of the boys ;p
✢ gender: reader is implied to be female <3
✢ warnings: nsfw, mentions of weed/smoking
Kenny HCs
𝒮𝐹𝒲
Begged you to go camping with him for months.
When you finally took some time off to go with him, he was ecstatic.
"We're gonna have so much fun"
Was confused why you packed so much stuff.
"What do you mean you still need to brush your teeth?"
Boy is an animal I swear, he can be so nasty.
You, Kenny, and Karen played 'I Spy' while in the car.
Kenny loves when you play with his little sister, it makes his heart melt.
"You'd make such a good mom"
Kenny just casually drops that while you're unpacking, like it isn't the sweetest thing you've ever heard.
You cannot escape his kisses, you've lost count of how many times he's kissed you.
You'll just be getting the fire wood ready for the campfire and he'll sneak up and kiss you on the neck from behind.
"There's my pretty girl"
Kenny is already rugged by nature, so camping is really his element.
When it's just you around he'll purposely be shirtless to get your attention.
Seeing him chop wood... while shirtless??? You nearly exploded at the sight.
"Whatcha lookin' at hm?"
He gives you a cocky grin that makes you roll your eyes.
Stupid, sexy Kenny.
He is a night owl. He prefers to do everything later at night with you.
He always sleeps through breakfast, so you always nag him to eat lunch.
"Only if I get to eat you for lunch" He grins at you.
You groan and push him away. Dude can be so cheesy.
Never lets you wear your own sweaters or jackets. He wants you to wear is giant, orange parka, always.
He saw you shiver and immediately draped it over your shoulders.
His parka smells like his cologne and weed.
You always tell him "Babe... you're gonna make my hair smell like weed.
Speaking of weed, boy is always offering you some.
"Babe, can we please smoke by the water?"
You look at your phone. "Kenny, it's like 3 am..."
You, of course, do it anyways. It's fun getting high with your hot, blonde stoner bf.
*Queue Moonlight by Kali Uchis*
He makes sure to bring plenty of water for the dry mouth and your favorite snackies when you get the munchies.
He loves to feed you the snacks himself, he loves spoiling you.
"I want to do this with you every night for the rest of my life"
𝓝𝓢𝓕𝓦
Everyone already knows Kenny is a horny ass man, so it was no surprise when you couldn't get him off of you.
Cannot fucking resist teasing you every second.
Would whisper in your ears in the car while you're just minding your own business.
"Can't wait to fuck your brains out"
The face you made when he whispered that satisfied him a lot.
Everywhere you went on that trip was a place to fuck.
The tent? Yep. Some random isolated place in the middle of the woods? Yup. The showers/bathroom? You betcha.
Asked you to go skinny dipping with him in the middle of the night.
You were freezing cold of course.
This dude has the audacity to say "Aw, you can come to me to conserve warmth"
Obviously, this whole thing was a ploy to hold you while you were naked.
He would instantly start to suck on your neck, while massaging your ass with both hands.
You dug your fingernails into his back and in response he bit your neck.
Your moans made him grin, he loved how easily you melted into his touch.
Turned you around so he could grind his cock between your ass.
Wrapped his arms around your shoulders and whispered into your ear while he grinded against you.
"You're fucking perfect"
When shit was getting super heated, he walked you over to an isolated rock so you could hold yourself up on it while he fucked you.
You held on to that rock for dear life while he pounded you.
He loved watching how your body looked under the moonlight.
His favorite thing about standing doggy style is being able to watch himself pull out all the way and slam back into you.
Always riles him up when you stroke his ego.
You whine out, "Ah, its too big Kenny!"
Kenny smirks and says "Aw, but you take me so well, baby"
He only fucks you harder when you whine and whimper.
Takes him forever to cum, you probably came three times by now.
That's fine by him, he enjoys overstimulating you.
You were losing your grip on the rock and your legs could no longer stand, so he has to hold you up.
Kenny knows his job is done when you are about to collapse.
"Fuck, I'm gonna cum"
He finally hits his climax and he pulls out to cum all over your ass.
"My favorite sight in the world"
He's proud of the work he's done but notices you about to pass out and quickly uses the water to wash you off.
"My sleepy little princess"
After drying you off with a towel, he puts his parka on you and carries you back to camp.
"Ooh, remind me to fuck you while you wear this next time"
Dude's always thinking of the next time he gets to fuck you smh.
#south park fanfiction#south park x reader#kenny mccormick x reader#kenny mccormick x reader smut#south park hcs#south park#south park smut#kenny mccormick
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thinking about fake dating jason and falling in love.
it happens slowly and quietly, so slow you don’t even notice it.
and then you turn around and you’re head over heels for him, no idea how it happened.
-🍓
Anon, if i ever gain the ability to write full fics, this is the first thing i'm writing.
might turn this into an au and let y'all request scenes (tattooartist!jason style)
It started off simple. He needed a date to the gala. the press was brutal and he was a Wayne. He didn't want to put anyone in that sort of spotlight. He had a dark past and didn't want anyone to get dragged into it. You were bored, needed a date to a wedding, and you cared about your friend. Also, it helped that he was willing to pay you because he felt bad about the whole press thing. It was nothing more than an arrangement between friends, a way for you to help him out. He's always been there for you, no matter what. You didn't think twice about returning the favor.
He was sweet in public. Held your hand, kissed your cheek, always asked if you were up for a kiss when he thought it was necessary. His hand was always warm and comforting on your waist. It grounded. you, kept you in the moment with him. You loved hanging out with him. The arrangement had let allowed you to hand out with him all the time, anywhere and everywhere. There were some comments made about you in the press, but the negative ones didn't bother you (how could they think you were the bad influence, secret identity or not, he was the one with murders under his belt!) and there were some nice things. You ha your past delved into, which wasn't exactly fun, but Jason had warned you it would happen and oracle made sure everything traceable wasn't bad. Overall, it was fun. You got to hang out with your best friend 24/7 and you got some new instagram followers and fun edits made of you along the way.
When it did inevitably get a little rough, Jason was there for you, like always. He took care of all the truly nasty things the press had to say about you. He always respected your boundaries, and he took you on vacation when it all got too much, even if he had to leave early for a Gotham emergency.
Things had to be believable, of course, so there needed to be couple's pictures on your social media. He needed to lay down with you. He needed to press his body up against yours. he needed to wrap his arms around you. He needed to draw you so close to him that there wasn't any given one inch of space in between you. He needed to press his face to your chest and close his eyes.
Right?
He just needed the picture to look believable. That was all.
So why did he stay cuddled into you? Why did he fall asleep there like he was made to fit? Like it was the only place he's ever wanted to be?
And why did it make you want.
After that, you spent all of your time wanting. Wanting more. The arrangement was perfect. It gave you everything it was supposed to. So why did you want more? Why did you wish Jason would stop apologizing when he said he had to kiss you? Why did your heart sink when his hands left yours after you were away from prying eyes? When did the edits people made of you go from fun to painful, a reminder of the way you wished he really looked at you? Why did you wish he wasn't faking it.
And, fuck that hurt, because he was just faking it all, right? He only looked at you like you were his world when someone else was looking. He didn't want you.
Not like you wanted him.
"Why do you look like that?" His voice shakes you out of your thoughts. Your eyes drift to him where he's sitting on the couch, his phone long forgotten timing out and turning off in his hand.
"What?" Your eyebrows had just lightly drawn together, your voice duller than usual.
"You look sad. What's on your mind?" His face looks a little worried. His eyes searched yours. You hope he can't see the truth lying beneath them.
What were you supposed to tell him? That this wasn't just a game to you anymore? That you can't stomach him holding your hand not because he means it? That you're taking advantage of him? That when he kisses you, you pretend it's real?
You don't meet his eyes. "I can't do this anymore."
#fake dating au#fakeboyfriend!jason#fake boyfriend!jason#saph’s love letters#jason todd#jason todd x reader#red hood#red hood x reader#saph’s thots#jason todd imagine#jason todd x you#red hood imagine#red hood x you#jason todd angst#jason todd x reader angst#red hood x reader angst#red hood angst#angst#🍓 anon
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DRIVE. - l.c
DRIVE -- or, the night you realise it's actually very hard to stay mad at the guy who shows up at your house, throwing stones at your window on a Thursday night, to try and fix something that was your mistake in the first place.
pairing : chan x fem reader.
content : fwb > lovers. angst, smut (MINORS DO NOT HAVE MY CONSENT TO INTERACT), fluff. more or less in that order.
they’re both dumb as hell. not explicitly put in any detail but this was written with a more 70s vibe in mind so feel free to bear that in mind when thinking of the car/tech/styles etc if u like.
w/c : 7.8k
warnings : lots of swearing. it’s all a big fuckin misunderstanding because i am a whore for that. weed & alcohol mentioned (neither party is drunk or high at the time of this taking place). mentions of past cheating (neither mc or chan are the cheater). some pov switching because i said so. let me know if i've forgotten anything. proofread exactly once so if there's a typo, no there isn't.
SMUT TAGS UTC.
notes : dino. get the fuck off my ass. i’m so serious i am not strong enough to handle the very real feelings i have for you. go away.
notes 2.0 : i listened to halsey’s drive for some inspo for this & took that as the title, so feel free to give it a listen if you want!
SMUT TAGS : dom!chan. car fuckin', making out, hair pulling, grinding/dry humping, fingering, finger sucking, dick riding, marking/scratching, unprotected sex (make good choices), overstimulation, multiple orgasms. praise. chan calls reader ‘baby’ & ‘sweetheart’. he’s a BIG talker during sex (sorry).
You’re not stupid. You heard his car pull up outside your house almost an hour ago.
Since then, at random intervals ranging anywhere between thirty seconds and five minutes, there have been clinks of a thrown stone at your bedroom window, a piece of the gravel that lines your driveway. Each time, it makes your jaw tense, makes your fingers tighten in the bedsheets you pulled all the way up to your chin in a foul mood at 8pm. It’s been the same now for almost two weeks — you’ve been getting home from work, showering the day away, eating your dinner and retiring to your room as early as you possibly can. Your roommate tried to find out what was wrong around day three but you very promptly shut her down — she’s since learned that the best she’s getting out of you currently is a dismissive wave of your hand or some kind of a grunt. She joked one evening that it was like she’d adopted a teenager; you scowled so violently that she went to her room.
Hardly any of your other friends have seen anything of you, either, despite the fact that several have come knocking to check if you’re all right.
You’re very much not all right, as it happens. This is perhaps the most upset you’ve ever felt, and that’s going quite some way. The angriest, too. It’s worse than when that middle aged woman threw her entire bucket of popcorn at your head when you gave her salty instead of sweet, and you were picking kernels out of your hair for the rest of your six hour shift. It’s worse than when your nasty supervisor ‘forgot’ you were in the bathroom and ended up locking you inside the cinema overnight, because you didn’t have your own set of keys to get out and the people whose numbers you remembered weren’t answering their phones.
It’s somehow even worse than when a summer crush from a few years ago broke things off by telling you that he already had a girlfriend back home and that you were basically just a means to pass the time and get his dick wet. God, and you thought that was the lowest you could possibly be.
Here you are, though, so far beyond all those things it would be comical, if it didn’t hurt. Chan has really done a number on you, and you’re not sure how you ended up getting so emotionally involved in your situationship with him that this is what you’ve been reduced to. For days now, you’ve been swallowing back tears of frustration (both with yourself and with Chan), rolling around in your bed night on night, unable to get to sleep because all you can think about is him.
Him, and the way he sounded genuinely horrified when his friends asked about the ‘movie girl’, and he laughed, ‘God, no – we’re just friends. That’s never gonna happen’. It was impressive, how quickly your face fell, in no way aided by the squealing giggles that rang through the house as a very, very drunk girl came running out of the living room and shut herself in the toilet, drowning out a chunk of the conversation you were listening in on. Somehow, it hurt even more when he went on to say ‘besides, there’s… someone else’.
And when you have managed to drift off after hours of staring at the walls and the ceiling, hearing those words on a loop on your fed up brain? Of course he’s been in your fucking dreams, too.
In your defence, all you were trying to do was use the mirror in the hallway outside the kitchen he and his friends were standing in, readjusting your top to cover the hickey that he had so kindly left on your collarbone just the night before. It wasn’t as though you sought him out to listen in; it was a coincidence. And okay, fine, maybe you should have walked away when the conversation turned to the topic of Chan’s love life. Maybe you should have not crept closer and held your breath to be able to hear them all better. Maybe, even, you should have stayed around long enough to ask what he meant by it then and there instead of hopping in a taxi and going home without saying goodbye to anyone.
Hindsight really is a beautiful thing.
Never gonna happen. Well, Chan seemed quite happy to ignore the fact that it already had happened. Several times. At least four of those being in the very car currently on the street outside your home. The car he’s used on countless occasions to drive you up to lovers’ lookouts in the dead of night, letting one of his many mixtapes play through the tinny speakers, where he’d kiss you breathless and cradle your face between his palms, as his fingers would delicately explore beneath your clothes, as his broad shoulders would slot between your thighs, as his hips rol–
And maybe you aren’t stupid, but Chan seems determined to prove that he sure as hell is. He came to pick you up from work the day after the party like nothing had happened, and couldn’t figure out why you said you would rather walk home in the rain than get in with him and stormed away without any further explanation. Then, he showed up on your doorstep on the morning of your day off with your favourite coffee and a breakfast bagel, asking if you could talk. He still didn’t realise what he’d done to upset you, so you slammed the door in his face. Finally, just earlier today, he ran after you in the mall, persistent as you’ve ever known him to be, and laid a hand on your shoulder when you didn’t turn around to just the sound of his voice calling your name.
You pushed him off so hard he almost fell over.
“Why can’t you just leave me alone?!” You had barked, shrugging your shoulders to try and realign your jacket. “I don’t want to talk to you. What’s not clicking?”
His face resembled that of a scolded pet when he took a step back and frowned at you. “I just wanted to–”
“I don’t care what you want, Chan,” you spat. “Give it up. I’m done.”
You could see the desperation swimming in his eyes as he scrambled for what to say and your heart felt like it was being weighed down all the way into your stomach. You supposed that was the part of you that was causing all this ache in the first place, and further that it was to blame for your current state of misery. But you steeled yourself and stood your ground nonetheless. He wasn’t going to win you over with puppy eyes and a pout. Not this time.
In his silence, you only then noticed how hard your breaths were coming, each slow and long but still dangerously unsteady. You lowered your voice, top lip curling at him as you muttered, “You’re embarrassed of me enough to lie to your friends? Fine. I don’t give a–… but shit, next time, tell a girl that to her face instead of behind her fucking back.”
It’s been seven hours, and you keep replaying the last thing he said to you as you stormed away (how his voice got quieter when he realised you weren’t turning back; how he sounded so hoarse, so sorry).
‘I’m sorry if I hurt you - I— I never meant to.’
If. If. If. Were you not making it completely fucking obvious that he had, most definitely, hurt you? Part of your brain is even now starting to go down the route that he’s doing this on purpose, that it’s some twisted sort of damage control, that he hopes maybe if he plays dumb for long enough, you’ll forget what you were mad about or maybe start to second guess what you heard. But if that’s what he thinks, he obviously doesn’t know you very well at all. That’s never going to happen.
Hell, for someone you were being so careful to keep in the appropriate lane in your head, Chan really has you thinking yourself in circles. You’re sick to your back teeth of him, and his stupid voice and his stupid smile and his stupid –
Clink.
Stupid. Fucking. Stones.
A groan loud enough to definitely catch the attention of your roommate sounds from deep within your chest at this interruption to your spiral and you finally, finally concede. Whatever argument he’s so clearly longing to have at 11 o’clock on a Thursday night? Fine. He can have it. If it means he backs off for good, you’ll give him his one last ruck.
You pull the window open none too gently and lean enough through it that Chan comes into view. He isn’t even looking up, you realise, too busy sifting through the driveway trying to find his next little projectile, and you hiss his name to get his attention. It startles him so much that he drops the indiscernible bundle in his right hand. He blindly scrambles to pick it up, those big, earnest eyes gazing at you as if you’re floating in midair before him.
“What the hell are you doing?!” You ask him, trying not to raise your voice too loud but at the same time, needing to generate enough volume for him to hear. He holds the bundle in both hands, now, and they catch the light of the lamp by your front door. Flowers, you register, squinting to try and make them out, your brows furrowing so much that your forehead hurts.
Black dahlias.
You choke back a laugh. Ah, the joys of fooling around with the son of a florist. Are they all so damn dramatic? (Or does he just know that they’re your favourites?)
Whichever it is, you tell yourself that’s not going to work. You won’t let it. Through gritted teeth, you say, “go away. I’m serious. I’ll call the cops on you.”
He shakes his head, begging as he steps just a little closer so his face is more visible in the amber light too. “Please–” he hurries, biting his bottom lip. “Please, don’t– just… tell me what I did. I want to make it right. Please.”
He never begs like this. In all the time you’ve known him, you swear Chan has said ‘please’ to you fewer times than you could count on your fingers. Which is by no means a bad thing — that’s just always been the very comfortable nature of your friendship, and later, the -with-benefits tag that you ended up sticking on the end.
“Why are you doing this?” You ask, pinching the bridge of your nose and fighting not to shiver in the cold nighttime air. Note to self: don’t do a Romeo and Juliet in the middle of the fucking winter without layering up, first. “What does it even matter?”
“What do you mean, what does it matter?” He asks, looking down at the bunch of flowers in his hands, then back at you. “I-... you know I’d never hurt you. Not on purpose. Please, just… if I did something–”
“There’s someone else,” you echo, fed up with his pretending. He’s a fair actor, you’ll give him that – he might even have been able to convince you, if you hadn’t already heard the other half of this tale he’s doing his best to spin in his favour.
His face screws up, thinking he’s misheard. It’s his turn not to understand now. If you’re telling him you’ve met someone else, he’s got questions, because you’d promised to be open and honest with each other if that ever happened, so that you could call things off and go back to being just friends without it becoming a big deal. That was always supposed to be a calm conversation, not… whatever this is. You talked about it, right at the start. But… those are the words you’re saying, aren’t they? And why would you be mad at him if you were the one whose circumstances had changed?
“What?” he asks, finally. “What do you mean?”
“God, no – we’re just friends. That’s never gonna happen. Besides, there’s… someone else!” You raise your voice without really meaning to, before swallowing hard and glancing back inside your room. “You said that, Chan. Don’t piss me off by coming here and pretending like you didn’t.”
Chan starts to look like he’s trying to figure out an algebraic equation in his head while only having half the required information; his eyes fall down to the gravel, his lips move without any sound coming out of them, his features tighten until there are definite lines between his eyebrows. Then, it clicks. The lightbulb moment. He slaps one hand to his face and shakes his head furiously, and you just know he’s going to wake up with an ache in his neck tomorrow because of it.
“Oh fuck,” he curses. “No, no, no, no, no – that’s not–”
“What did I just say?” You spit down at him. “Don’t piss me off–”
“Listen!” He shouts, and you gesture with your hand for him to lower his voice, interrupting his flow of thought and rendering him silent for a moment. “Fuck, please. Come down here and talk to me. That’s not what you think it is.”
You’re in every mind to slam your window shut and leave him out there in the cold. It would work if you got out your headphones to drown out the sounds of him trying to get your attention, which you have absolutely no doubt in your mind that he would do. And maybe then he’d get the hint; maybe then he would understand that you’re not just some pushover who he can just pick up and play with when it suits him.
But he’s still holding those fucking flowers like they’re a lifeline, still looking up at you without a single lick of anger on his face. Not stress at having been discovered, which you would have expected him to be swimming in right about now. He looks… kind of beside himself, as if nothing could possibly be worse than what you’re threatening to do.
All this, for you? It just doesn’t make sense.
“Please,” he says again, quieter, weaker. For the first time, you pick up on the hint of a shiver in his voice, and you swallow. Whether you’re gulping back your pride, or your resolve, or the last remnants of your sensibility, you don’t know.
Does he deserve for you to hear him out? You’re not sure.
But does he deserve to be stuck out in the cold in just his stupid leather jacket and a pair of jeans?
With regret, you think, no. He doesn’t.
All you give him is a scowl before you disappear from view entirely, pulling the window closed and drawing your curtains again. Faster than you think you ever have before, you throw on a sweatshirt over your pyjamas, grab your keys, and hurry down the stairs as silently as you possibly can.
He’s stood in exactly the same place when you edge outside and pull the door closed behind you. Up-close, you can see the tiredness on his face: this is a man who has exhausted himself in worry, you think, and yet he still smiles a little when he sees you in full. He still holds the flowers out for you to take. He still purses his lips and blows out a stuttered cloud of air. Nervous, and not in the way you think he ought to be. So when you walk straight past him and don’t take the dahlias out of his hands, instead standing by his car and waiting for him to unlock it for you, you start to feel overwhelmingly guilty.
Chan is many, many… many things. But he really isn’t this good of a performer, no matter what you’ve been telling yourself all week. For God’s sake, why is it so much easier to be angry at him when he’s not standing right in front you?
You slip into his passenger side as he fumbles to set the flowers down on his backseat again, and he joins you up front just a few moments later. His hands are shaking when he sets the keys into the ignition. His whole body is. When you cast a real look over at him, the tips of his fingers are pale and his lips are lacking their usual rosy, pink hue. Your own teeth are chattering despite only having been truly exposed to the cold air for a matter of seconds; you dread to think how frozen he must be.
“Are we driving?” You ask to break the silence. Since he got into the car and fiddled with the heating settings to try and warm things up a little, he hasn’t said a word. It’s awkward. It’s horrible. You already miss the comfortable way you’ve been able to sit for hours together, barely talking, just watching the lights of the city and the cars travelling through it.
You already miss him. Which is a strange thought, seeing as he’s only about ten inches away.
“If– if you want,” he says, stuttering through the frost in his lungs. “We can go—...”
“Drive, Chan,” you say. It’s not just because you want him to stop falling over his words – which, to be fair, you do. Chan has always been very confident, carrying himself with the air of someone who knows exactly their worth. It’s one of the things you treasure about him. So this? Is fucking weird. But a big part of it is that you know his car will heat up faster if it’s in motion, and right now, you think maybe he’s at risk of losing a finger or two if he doesn’t get some circulation back.
He steps on the gas and the car pulls away from your home. It’s the first time you’ve ever been in his car without there being some sort of music playing, whether that’s historically just been the radio or a tape he put together with the help of one of his older friends. (The tapes that always had your first initial on them. The tapes that he never failed to ask your opinions on when he dropped you home – as if he’d compiled them with only you in mind.) The silence feels jarring and you can hear every rumble of the engine, every squeal of the brakes he definitely needs to get serviced.
But the car does warm through, and you sigh out relief as the bones in your hands move a little easier, as your fingers curl and uncurl to less resistance from your taut muscles. Chan feels it, too; his body relaxes, his breaths stop coming out in fractions, his face gets some colour back. The timing feels a little less awful when you finally say, “go on, then.”
Chan glances over at you as he drives down an unlit street. Only for a second, like he’s checking you’re still there, before his eyes train back on the road. He’s going to one of your favourite spots. It isn’t a lookout – it’s somewhere completely shut off from the rest of town, hidden by the trees near the railway tracks, somewhere you’ve never had to worry about being seen or heard. Maybe he’s anticipating a screaming match. Maybe he’s expecting something else. Maybe, even, he just cares about how much you love it there.
“I didn’t know you heard that conversation,” he starts, sheepishly. You want to roll your eyes, reach over and thump him, ask if that makes what he said okay, but you don’t. You stay looking out the front windscreen too. Waiting. “I… all right. I was out of my ass drunk.”
You click your tongue, pressing it afterwards against the inside of your cheek, but again, you stay quiet.
“I don’t think you heard what you thought you heard, though,” he goes on to say. “‘Cause– ‘cause it wasn’t…”
But you can only be quiet for so long in the face of this mess. Especially when he’s apparently working towards a doctorate in beating around the fucking bush. “I heard you tell your friends that it was never gonna happen with ‘movie girl’.”
Chan’s face brightens, and you can’t help but wonder what on Earth is wrong with this man. Why does he find that funny? Why is his chest moving like he’s trying not to laugh?
“And you… thought you were movie girl,” he says, nodding. “Okay. Okay – shit. I’m sorry.”
You look at him properly, now, as he indicates to the right and takes the turn that leads him down the lane to your spot. “What are you talking about?”
“I get it,” he says. “You work at the–... but you’re not movie girl. Not that movie girl.”
“Stop talking in riddles before I get out of this car, Chan. It’s too late for this shit.”
He holds a hand up as if to apologise and settles back against the head cushion, suddenly looking far more comfortable than he did thirty seconds ago. He clears his throat, running his tongue over his lips, before sucking in a breath and letting himself go on.
“You’re not movie girl,” he says again, successfully clarifying nothing. “There’s this chick I used to dance with — years back, before… God, when we were in school, like, forever ago. She moved away when we were sixteen.” As he talks, he reaches your destination and sets the car into park, before he unfastens his seatbelt and turns to face you. You do the same, shifting your weight to tuck one leg up beneath you, and with your undivided attention, he goes on. “I ran into her recently. She’s back in town now, I guess. It was like, two weeks—?”
“I’m gonna be all-over grey by the time you finish telling this story,” you interrupt, raising an eyebrow. “Can you please give me the short version?”
“Not if you want it to make sense,” Chan shrugs. Begrudgingly, you let him keep talking. “She said it would be cool to hang out, maybe catch a movie or do lunch or something — and look, I didn’t know she was asking me on a date, I thought she was just being nice, y’know? Trying to be friends, but… you weren’t working that day, it was when you had that… that stomach thing going on? And I brought you the soup my mom made, remember?”
You nod; of course you remember. At the time, you wondered why on Earth this grown man’s mother was making you food — you asked yourself whether he’d told her about you, or if she thought it was for someone else. In the end you decided he must have just been bringing you leftovers. But you’d been too worn out to start asking questions; instead, after you’d eaten, you let yourself fall asleep with your head in his lap as he patted your hair and hummed his favourite songs. You hadn’t let yourself think too deeply about it since.
“Anyway. We were sat watching the movie and she, uh,” he glances down at his lap, tips of his ears burning pink. “She put her hand, sorta, on my thigh? And then I was like, shit, I didn’t read this right, like… at all. So I moved it off and she took the hint — and after it ended I said to her, you know, I was flattered, right? But I wasn’t interested. And then I went home and got that soup and—… yeah.”
He came straight to see you. To look after you. Hell, you didn’t even fool around that night; in retrospect, it was all uncharacteristically domestic. And slowly, the pieces you’ve spent days struggling to fit together start to fall into place. It makes sense. The only question that remains is do you believe him?
Well, tell a lie.
There is one more.
“You said there was someone else,” you add quietly.
You’ll die before you admit it, but this is secretly the part that was hurting you the most.
You can’t even look him in the eye, right now; your cheeks are burning with the embarrassment of even caring. As much as you want to tell yourself that the only reason you’re pissed is just because of the dishonesty, you can only stare at yourself in the mirror and point-blank lie so many times. Someone else. You hate it.
Just the thought of him seeing somebody else, taking them out on dates, smiling at them, laughing with them, kissing them the way he kisses you, touching —
A shiver runs the length of you and you cross your arms, thrusting your sleeve-covered hands under your armpits.
Chan takes a deep breath in and exhales it slowly, like he’s blowing smoke out of his lungs. “There is,” he admits, nodding slowly, avoiding your eyes, too. “There is someone else.”
“When were you going to tell me?” You ask.
Chan doesn’t respond straight away. You don’t notice, but eventually his eyes do land back at you; it’s only when he clears his throat to get your attention that you look at him long enough to realise he’s quite deliberately staring. His lips are lifted on the right in a lopsided smile, his eyes soft as he reaches across the seats towards you. You stare blankly down at his hand until he wiggles his fingers, and you think briefly that this is the most fucked up ending to a situationship you’ve ever been through.
You drop one of your hands down and let him hold it, though, staring at his face as his thumb brushes over your knuckles and you wait for him to finally say it out loud. For him to announce that he’s fallen for somebody and that he can’t see you anymore. To put the nail in the coffin. Don’t tell me their name, you think. I don’t want to know anything about them. Please, just don’t.
“For someone so frustratingly smart, you’re really fucking dumb,” Chan says, finally, swallowing around his words and squeezing your fingers. Whatever stoic expression you had forced onto your face at the start of this conversation dissolves into irritation and you snatch your hand away from him again, letting his own fall and collide with a thunk against the handbrake.
“Oh, sorry that I didn’t realise you were sneaking around behind my back when that’s the one thing we promised we wouldn’t do,” you snap. “God. The only stupid thing I’ve done here is get involved with you in the f—”
“You’re the someone else.”
Oh.
Oh.
“I’m—?”
“You.”
The admission hangs heavily between you, as does your nonsense, unfinished insult. Neither of you really know what to do with yourselves except sit perfectly still and try to somehow deal with your increasingly dry throats. When Chan moves, it’s only to turn down the heating dial when his cheeks burn a bit too hot; you appreciate it, in part due to the bead of sweat currently running down your back, but you don’t say so.
“You could have started with that,” you say weakly, wrestling with all your strength to keep even some of your cards close to your chest. It’s not working though. Your attempt to conceal your elation is a bit like throwing a single leaf on top of a bison and calling it camouflage.
Chan commits to laughing, finally, your sentiment breaking him too. Now, you do crack that smile, albeit mostly just at the sound that comes from him. It’s bright and airy, lighting his whole face up as he drops all the way back and leans against his car door, pushing his fingers through his hair. “I was trying to build to a moment! It’s not my fault you hit every branch of the anti-romantic tree on your way down.”
“I am not anti-romantic,” you scoff in protest.
“Yes — you are.”
“Am not!”
“Are too.”
“No, you’re just an idiot.”
“Says she who didn’t realise her fuck-buddy had feelings for about six months, Jesus.”
“Chan—” You start, your voice laced with a playful warning.
“Here I was thinking I was making it completely obvious,” he rambles on.
“— oh my God, just shut up and kiss me.”
“Dropping hints left and r—” … “Huh?”
He stops short a fraction of a second after you finish, stumped and silent, frozen with everything but a little buffering symbol above his forehead. Kiss me, you said. Chan, […] just shut up and kiss me. All right, you’ve asked him to do that before, but not like this. Not as if you’ll wither away should you not get a taste of his lips this instant. It takes him some time to process it, but he does move in first, eventually. The way he always does, closing the distance between you like he’s been shot out of a cannon, one hand either side of your face, crashing feverishly against your mouth.
Every now and again, he’ll be happy to let you take charge and set the pace: mostly just if he’s feeling lazy or especially generous. Tonight isn’t one of those times, however. He holds you and kisses you possessively, like you’re his, like this is how he finally gets to lay claim on you, licking between your gasp-parted lips after he moans straight into your mouth. He’s spearmint sweet, edged with that one cherry flavoured chapstick he stockpiles as he grins up against you, rolling his body fluidly with every separation for air, every changing angle.
He pulls your sweatshirt up over your head and throws it down into the footwell on the passenger side, straight away hurrying to kiss you hungrily again, hands cupping your neck. His tongue is in your mouth once more, there’s no way you could possibly differentiate your breaths from his: you’re one, in every way you can be with your clothes still on, but it’s not enough.
“Want you,” you whimper as he nips at your bottom lip and pleasure rushes through you from head to toe.
“You’ve got me,” he groans with his eyes still closed. “I’m all yours.”
“No,” you insist, whimpering when his cute little nose drags across your cheek until he’s pressing hot kisses to your jawline. “I— fuck—” He suckles on the sweet spot below your ear and your spine tingles, head tilting to give him better access. “Chan, I want you.”
Chan settles back from you, his usually bright, sparkling eyes now darkened with desire. All he gives you is a singular glance sideways, but you know exactly what he’s suggesting. You nod, breathing deep, biting the inside of your cheek; he turns off the headlights and it’s all systems go.
There’s a rush to scramble into the back of the car. Chan takes the keys out the ignition and climbs through the gap in the seats; you opt for the less hazardous approach of getting out of the vehicle entirely and re-entering it instead. Not that it bothers him — no sooner is the door closed behind you, Chan’s hands are on your hips and he pulls you on top of him, your leg knocking the dahlias off the leather and onto the floor in the process. You gasp and glance down but he averts your attention with two fingers under your chin, guiding you to look back at him.
“What? You think this is the last time I’ll bring you flowers?” He asks, capturing your lips as he leans up to you; at the same time, his hands drop low and he starts to slide open the buttons down the front of your pyjama shirt. “Baby, m’gonna get you so many more.”
You sigh at the affectionate name, at the change in its use; until now, Chan has only called you baby while he’s buried inside you, bruising you inside and out with sharp thrusts and rough-gripping fingers. But as much as you can feel him growing hard against the inside of your thigh while you try to get comfortable, one knee planted either side of his hips, you can’t help but feel as if this time, it means something different.
(He’s had feelings for six months: it always meant what it does, now. You know that, deep down.)
Somewhere in amongst the never-ending sloppy kisses and constantly travelling hands, you manage to strip both his jacket and T-shirt off him and you’re pressed bare-chest-to-bare-chest with Chan, feeling every little hitch of his breath in his lungs, every thump of his heartbeat, every tiny increase in the temperature of his skin. Your desperate search for friction between your legs has you rolling your hips down against his hard-on, drawing grunts and making him squeeze at your tits when you rock against him the right way. His head eventually drops to your chest and he replaces one hand with his mouth, freeing his fingers to slide down the front of your pyjama bottoms.
It’s honestly rarer for Chan to get straight to the point than it is for him to tease you a little first, so when he flattens his palm against you and brushes his fingertips over your already aching clit, you let out a squeak of surprise. He shivers, releasing your nipple from between his teeth for a moment; once he’s collected a little more arousal to ease the friction, he continues to rub at the bud, slowly building the pressure inside you.
“No panties?” He asks, struggle clear in the roughness of his voice.
“I was in bed,” you gasp, eyes rolling back. It’s for the best that it happens out of pleasure, really, because you’re not sure you’d be able to stop yourself rolling them in exasperation at his remark otherwise. You shuffle a little, lifting yourself up on your knees more, breath hitching when he uses the newly granted space to dip his hand lower and press a finger against your hole. “Please, Chan — this can’t be comfy— just…”
“S’fine” he argues, shaking his head, despite the fact that the angle of his wrist is actually kind of painful, right now. The truth is that he can’t bring himself to care: not when he can smell your fabric softener on the shirt still hanging off your shoulders, the shampoo in your freshly washed hair, all so pretty mixed with the damp scent of your desire. Not when you clench around him as he slides his finger in and out of your cunt. Not when he could get you to soak all the way through these pretty satin pants.
Your arms snake around his neck as he dips a second finger inside you to join the first. The way your thighs tighten around his hips could — should — be embarrassing, the fact his sturdy lap holds you open enough for your pussy to be toyed with even more so. You almost always do this too music, too — for what might be the first time ever, you can hear every single wet sound your body makes, every hitch of your own breath, every grunt he gives even though he’s not the one being pleasured.
You don’t even realise how you’re rocking up and down against his hand until Chan licks from the base of your neck to your jaw, smirking over your pulse point and says, “gonna ride my cock this good too, baby?”
And if it was anyone else talking to you like this, you would be embarrassed. Mortified, at being so needy you’re here doing all the work for him. At the cry you give as he splits and scissors his fingers to stretch you out. But instead? You feel another rush of arousal drool out of you as you press your nails into his shoulders and nod, bouncing harder and watching how his bicep tenses up solid with the effort of keeping his arm steady for you to use.
“Wanna,” you gasp. “Want it so bad, Chan—”
Despite your pleas for this to move further, when his hand pulls back out of the elastic of your waistband, you feel like you could throttle him. The urge ebbs away when his soaked fingers press to your lips and he quirks an eyebrow at you, though — you end up suckling them clean, licking up every trace of your own slick. You lock eyes with him as you do, slumping on your thighs so your drenched core sits right over his tweaking length, the seam of your pants giving just enough friction to your clit for it to feel good as you grind down on him again.
“Get those off,” he instructs, trying to sound hard and dominant. Which would work, perhaps, if his voice didn’t crack in the middle of the sentence. “Now.”
Even though you’re overcome with a need to tease him, the desire you have to be split open on his length outweighs it, so you do as you’re told and hold it in for later. It’s not easy, but you manage to manipulate yourself in his lap to work the satin down your thighs and past your knees. He helps you tug them the rest of the way past your ankles and feet, shoves them onto the floor — Chan’s hands settle back on your hips and yours skim down his stomach at the same time, fingers grazing over the little hairs that trail from his bellybutton down into his jeans.
“Can I?” You ask, playing already with his belt buckle.
He hums assent and you slip it all the way open, tugging as he moves his hips underneath you so you can pull it free from the loops. Between you, you manage to get his jeans unfastened, to pull both them and his boxer shorts down over his ass and to his knees; finally, fucking finally, his cock sits pretty and leaking and free between your stomach and his. It’s getting cold in the car now the heating isn’t on, but you’re already burning up in anticipation for him to ruin you; the way his abs ripple as he takes his shaft into his hand and strokes himself a couple of times to prepare tells you he’s in the same boat.
It’s like clockwork, from here. You shift into position as easily as you settle into bed after a long day. Chan rubs his tip through your folds, feels the warmth of you and hisses through his teeth with fluttering eyes. Just like always. This never changes. He can’t ever get enough of that first feeling of his cock against your pussy: it’s like the first hit of a blunt, like the first sip of a cold beer, the first full-body stretch early in the morning. He’s sure it’s what arriving at the gates of heaven must feel like.
You sink down onto him slowly, fluttering around his tip and stilling to give you both a moment to get used to the feeling. He’s thick inside you. Thicker than his pretty, dainty fingers have ever been able to stretch you enough for. Even as wet as you are, you still need to suck a deep breath into your lungs before you can relax your hips further and let your heat swallow him all the way to his base.
Chan’s head is tipped back in pleasure, he’s biting his lip at the sting of your nails pressing hard into the back of his neck. He loves it, though — loves how the pain shoots in waves down his spine, how it tingles in his brain, how he knows you need to anchor yourself this way or you’ll lose control. He kneads at your ass as you sit against his thighs, listening to you whimpering at how deep he is inside you.
“So fucking tight around me still,” Chan groans, focusing all his willpower into keeping his hips down on the leather beneath him. “Shit, baby — you feel so good…” His neck softens and his head drops forward again as you start to move, rising and falling over and over. He kisses your throat and down to your collarbones while you work up to a rhythm, sliding his palms up your back, hugging you close to him.
He isn’t even the one putting in the hard work, but within minutes of this, his soft, fluffy hair clings to his forehead. A light sheen of sweat makes him radiant under the moonlight breaking through the trees. He’s breathing heavily, the top of his toned chest painted a soft pink — you don’t think he could possibly look prettier. Not until he cups your jaw with his hands and you look upwards: you land on his smiling face, those plush, swollen lips, his devilish but sweetly glittering eyes. The sight of him, looking at you like you’re some kind of Goddess, makes your pussy tighten and your tiring hips stutter. You slip your pyjama top all the way off your arms and curl your fingers into his hair, meeting him in an open-mouthed kiss, through which you’re both just beaming.
You’ve never kissed him this much. When it all started out, you sort of had a rule against it, but now? Neither of you can stop. As he starts to fuck up into you, taking the reins and letting your burning thighs rest, he keeps your face steady with his hands and freely allows his lips to slide against yours. It’s not refined. It can’t be. Not with how hard and fast his movements quickly become, not with the onslaught of curses and moans and babbled praise coming from the both of you. One particularly sharp thrust makes you yelp out a squeak of his name and he just swallows it down, making a point to keep aiming for— and hitting— that same spot inside you. You’re a mess.
He could do this all night. When your orgasm bubbles inside you and he starts pinching at one of your nipples, sending you over the edge, he’s nowhere near finished. Even though your cunt massages at his length, throbbing and pulsing through your climax; even though your voice is so high by now that only dogs can hear you; even though you nearly collapse on top of him with almost all your weight in his lap, and he has to work twice as hard to keep this going, he barely slows. He definitely doesn’t stop.
“You can gimme one more, right sweetheart?” He asks, grunting into your neck. “Always feels so fucking good when you come.” You choke up an ‘mhm’, to which he responds by slipping a hand between your bodies and down to where you’re connected. His thumb presses against your clit again — not moving, just applying enough pressure to make you stutter when you say his name.
Your thighs are still twitching when you try to lift yourself a little, try to meet his movements as he chases his orgasm too. The “problem” with Chan is that his stamina is otherworldly. You couldn’t keep up if you wanted to.
“Relax,” he says, tensing his jaw, doing the opposite himself. “Fuck — lie down.”
It’s pretty cramped and hard to move, but you lift yourself off him and only slightly lament at the sudden emptiness between your legs. There isn’t time to get too upset, however: moments after you get comfortable on your back, Chan shoves his jeans the rest of the way down and stands with one knee planted on the seats, lifting one of your ankles up to rest it on his shoulder. He slips back inside you easily then, gripping around your calf to keep you both steady. From the word go, his pace is relentless. You scrabble around for something to hold onto but the entire car seems to melt away; you ball your hands into fists at your sides instead, your eyes squeezed tightly shut.
“Mm-mm. Look at me,” Chan hums, tightening his grip on your leg. “Wanna see those pretty eyes.”
You obey, opening your lids to look up at him while he pounds into you hard enough to make the car shake. Over, and over, and over, and over. Rougher. Faster. For how long? Who even knows. All you’re truly aware of is how good it feels. How the windows grow foggy with the steam of your laboured breaths. How his sweat mingles with your own.
When his fingers on the other hand get reacquainted with your clit, when he bites down on his bottom lip, when his thrusts start to get messier and more erratic and the veins in his arms start to bulge out, you know he’s getting close. He doesn’t need to tell you out loud. The smirk he wears speaks for itself.
“Where d’you want it, baby?” He asks you, pressing a kiss to the inside of your ankle.
“In— mmh, in-…side me—” you stammer, hips jolting as you near your second orgasm to match his first. “Please, Chan — want it all…”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah—”
Well, he must’ve been holding himself back something spectacular, because a few thrusts later you watch all of his muscles contract as he tips over the edge, and you go hurtling with him. It’s all so much. All your nerve endings feel like they’re on fire and your vision starts to blur at the edges; it’s not long before you have to close your eyes to shut one of your overworked senses out, completely. Your muscles are sore. Your throat hurts. Even your lungs ache.
God, he hasn’t gone that hard in so long, you don’t know what to do with yourself. You can barely speak — it’s going to take you a week to recover from this, minimum.
He stills deep inside you, feeling his cock throb with the last pumps of his release. Your leg slips off his shoulder and your foot lands down with a thud onto the car’s (thankfully clean) floor; he bends forward to kiss you, still breathing heavily against your lips. You’ve come over completely boneless and reaching up to thread your fingers into his hair again feels like running a marathon at sprint pace. You’d fall asleep right here, right now, if you could, but with sweat cooling rapidly against your skin, you know that’s probably not up there as one of your finest ideas.
“You really think getting involved with me was stupid?” Chan asks, nudging your nose with the tip of his own. He’s never been less serious than this in his entire life, which stops you feeling too bad when you lightly slap at his rock solid chest and try to push him off you.
“Yes,” you lie, attempting to reach to the ground for your pyjama shirt while he grips your chin and attacks you with tiny little pecks all over your face. “Stupidest thing I’ve ever done.”
(Chan chuckles to himself and thinks that he’s quite happy to be the stupidest thing you’ve ever done, really. He can stay that way, as long as you promise never to stop.)
thank you so much for reading. i hope you enjoyed it - likes, feedback, comments, reblogs are all so appreciated.<3
#dino smut#lee chan smut#dino x reader#seventeen smut#svt smut#svt x reader#kpop smut#j writes.#*#this description is ass we're gonna pretend it isnt. ok THANKS bye <3
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𝓇.cameron. ┆ 7:49am.
◟ ㅤᡣ𐭩ㅤㅤ ݁.﹒ somethin' i wrote as the sun was rising this mornin' . ♡
jus imagine that you're rafe cameron's 𝒷𝒶𝒷𝓎, his girl. you'd be so fucking spoiled, so cherished, so protected, so loved—and above all else, you were constantly, practically daily, fucked hard by your man. most days, when rafe was busy and doing grown up business, as he always told you, wanting to keep his work life private from you and keep your relationship separate—only proving his love for you even more by keeping you safe. you would blink up at him owlishly, your doe eyes hazy and wispy lashes fluttering prettily for him. rafe immediately felt his cock harden in his fancy pants, making him clench his jaw. angrily, rafe wanted nothing more than to fuck you nasty style, to stuff you with his cum and fuck a baby into your womb. and now, rafe is gonna be late for his very important business meeting with barry—not being able to control himself and fuck you like a dumb little doll, until you're mewling 'daddy' and moaning like a needy, little whore for him. and rafe, rafe wouldn't change a thing, knowing his girl needed a good, long, hard pounding—and how could rafe say no? rafe was always a giver when it came to his pretty, favorite girl.
#⠀࣪⠀ׅ ♡ ⠀࣪𓂃#‧ ₊˚ bambi's works 𓂃ෆ#outer banks#obx#rafe cameron#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron oneshot#rafe cameron prompt#rafe cameron imagine#rafe cameron drabble#rafe cameron smut#rafe cameron fluff#rafe cameron fanfiction#rafe cameron fic#drew starkey
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plz, can u write a oneshot about mean!toji x reader like hate sex 😭😭 toji bleeding and smirking in ep 4 makes me feel some feelings 😭😭 and if u can add some slap in the face- sorry for my bad english :(( hope u can understand
ik those feelings you're feeling, noonie, heheheee (¬‿¬) and dw, honey, your English is perfect ♡
cw: mean! Toji x fem! reader - hate sex, obvi - oral (m! receiving) - impact play; spanking - gun play (loaded) - bondage (chains) - hair pulling - dirty talk/degradation - doggy style position - unprotected sex - biting - mentions of blood and drool - it's gonna get real nasty (depiction-wise; blowjobs) so beware - pet names (doll, dollface, sweetheart) - angsty/violent ending.
wc: 1.4k
"Go on." You look up to him, nothing more than his salacious grin and cold emerald eyes sending chills down your spine. Dry blood stains his tight black shirt and baggy pants. Metal chains restraining your hands are pulled to make you shift between his legs.
"...Tch, you got some nerve—"
"Watch that tone with me, sweetheart," your blood shifts to icy cold at the gun in his hand propped to your throat. "Would be a shame if I gotta put a bullet through you before the fun starts. So? Should I kill ya now, or are ya gonna be a good slut fr' me?"
Watery eyes twinkle along with the tremble rocking the uncomfortable bob in your throat, making breathing difficult. Your eyes then scroll down to the tent of his pants, his free hand bringing the material down to his thighs for his cock to spring out. You gulp trembling lips and hesitantly place your lips on the glans, a hiss exiting his scarred lips when you experimentally flick your tongue.
"Hmmm, don't act shy on me now," the gun to your throat drifts to your head. Fear prompts your heart to beat irregularly. "C'mon, Y/n. I know that pretty lil' mouth of yours is just beggin' to have me."
You give him a glare. It's exchanged with a chuckle, and the handgun's cold muzzle is now pressed to your forehead. "Fuck you, you fucking bru—"
BLAM!!
It was for a few seconds, but the blast was too close. Too frightened from the ringing in your ears that your body remains immobile, your eyes wide to the point of a tear falling. Too scared to move a single limb when Toji draws the gun back to your forehead.
"Actin' real smart, forgot who y're dealin' with." Toji sucks his teeth before his free hand pulls you by the chin back to his exposed dick. "Try that again."
Left with no choice, you open your mouth and insert the tip of his cock, your jaw loosening to accommodate the familiar girth of his length protruding from your oral cavity to the walls of your throat. Toji hisses at the swirl of your tongue on the underside of his dick, his free hand now on the top of your head with tufts of your hair in his fingers. "...Yeah, just like that, use that whorish mouth of yours."
If you had it in you, you'd bite his dick off right then; however, with a gun to your head and chains making escaping impossible, you can already calculate your doom if you were to do that. So, you pitifully suck on him as traces of his cum coat your tongue. The grasp on your hair gets tighter, and he roughly pushes your head to bob up and down from the base of his erection.
It's so disgusting how he uses you like this — like his toy, so used and abused...And what's worse, the throbbing sensation between your legs begins to flourish. Fuck you, Toji Fushiguro...
"—Ahhh, shit, shit," his groans of pleasure fill your ears; they feel so dirty to hear. His hips are unable to refrain from bucking into your mouth. And before you know it, Toji drives your face to his base, the tip of his cock hits the back of your throat, and he releases his load into you. More tears fall from your face, whimpers muffled by the pulsing limb between your plump lips, forced to drink what he gives you until he withdraws from you. Drool and come paint his shaft, your mouth, and chin — a mess you're compelled to make.
But it doesn't stop there. Of course, it doesn't.
Because remember: you are his toy. And a greedy man like Toji wants to wear you out by any means necessary, whether you like it or not. Especially now with your face smooshed down to the cold floor, your hands to your back still restrained by the chains, and your bare ass for him to witness smack against his pelvis as he fucks you raw.
With a ruthless pace, Toji bullies and churns your insides with his girth in your cunt, his length pistoning to and fro from your leaky entrance. Your screams are erupted by the harsh thrusts, sounds of your ass smacking onto him corrupt your eardrums. He keeps you still on the ground with his strong hands on your shoulders, leaving any opposition worthless and unable to fight off his merciless tempo.
The fucker pants and groans down to your ear, it's so awful to hear. More so that it makes your slit clamp onto him tighter. How shameful. And he knows so too — the sinister chuckle is evidence as much. "Mmff—Heh, gettin' so tight fr' me, doll."
You don't reply, why should you. Too wrapped up in the pleasurable commotion between your legs to care for giving him a reply. That is until—b
SMACK!!
A sharp slap to your ass comes down to your ass without notice, erupting a scream from your fatigued throat.
"Hey, I'm talkin' to you, fuckin' broad." Your hair is yanked again, your head off the ground with tears and drool smooshed all over your pretty face. "Listen here, who—Mmmm!! Fuck...Who does this slutty pussy belong to?"
You'd rather die than say what he wants to hear you say. "Get off me, you—Ahhhhhh!"
Another smack to your ass, you chew on your bottom lip to the point of blood. "Cut the shit, Y/n..." He ponders before another grin lifts his scar and slaps your ass again. A choked sob aligns with your chasm gripping his cock again, and a satisfied moan comes from Toji. "Oh, now I know how to teach you a lesson."
Wait, no. No, no—
SMACK!!
"Ahaaann!! Ahhhh!! Toji, stop—" He doesn't listen, giving your shoulder a bite, leaving you breathless.
SMACK!! SMACK!!
"—OKAY, OKAY!!" The unbearable stinging heat on your asscheeks forces you to submit to him. ".....'s yours..." you say under your breath with gritted teeth. But with another blunt impact to your butt, Toji wanted to hear you loud and clear.
"Say it louder."
And you do. "It's yours!! I belong to you, only you!!"
His hands knead the hot flesh of your ass, and a dangerous chuckle stems from him. "That's better, ya damn broad." He releases your hair for your face to meet the cool floor again. "Now—Ohhh shit...you stay just like this while I finish here, got that?"
The older man doesn't give you room to respond, only returning his hips to an unforgiving pace. Mewls scratch out from your throat and mouth, too helpless to try and suppress them with your slick and come drip down to your legs.
It doesn't take long for him to climax into you, his hands finding your shoulders once more and pining you down, his fingertips leaving painful indents to your shoulder blades as he drills his dick deep inside for his load. Your orgasm follows when he grinds his pelvis to you, his length scraping your sweet spots perfectly and accurately. The rush hits you hard, your cunt contracting around him until the heat subsides.
He removes himself from your heaving body, trails of his come slide from your folds down to your inner thigh. The air makes the substance chill as it travels across your sweaty skin. For a minute, you're allowed to aimlessly rest. Your mind returns to its senses, a feeling of shame weighing your weary figure down. But it doesn't matter: it's finally over.
...So why do you hear a metallic click come from behind you? Your eyes drift to Toji's feet coming in your direction, crouching down to your level. A smile on his face — a sign you know that doesn't hold any positive connotation.
"Hope you enjoyed y'rself, I know I did," Toji hums, you could barely hear him. He then pulls out his handgun and points it at you. Those following words, so condescending, send chills down the spine. "Sorry, it had to end like this, dollface. Thanks for the fun time."
Your eyes widened before any words left your mouth. And just like that, you're reminded of your place in this mess. You're only his toy — a mere plaything he can rough up and mess with however he sees fit.
BLAM!!
And just like a toy, he'll discard you when he's done with you, removing your purpose and leaving your abused body for the cold, hard floor to keep motionless.
The blood that seeps out of your forehead is the only warmth you'll experience in your final moments. Finding a few seconds of comfort from yourself before your body shuts down, your vision blurry, and your identity whipped from the face of this Earth.
Here lies a toy that no longer works.
phewwww, been a while since I've done hate sex, hope you liked it!! :D
#𝑯𝒐𝒔𝒉𝒊 ˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ 𝑾𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒆𝒔: 𝑻𝒉𝒊𝒓𝒔𝒕𝒔#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen smut#jjk smut#jjk x you#jjk thirsts#jjk imagines#jjk headcanons#toji fushiguro smut#toji fushiguro x reader#toji fushiguro x you#toji smut#toji x reader#toji fic#toji x y/n#toji imagine#fushiguro toji x reader#fushiguro toji x you#fushiguro toji smut
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☕️ steve harrington and "you called me your friend." "was i not supposed to say that?" "you really think i'm just your friend? after these last few weeks?"
anna u have singlehandedly pulled me out of my steve slump with this request thank you i love you <3
steve harrington x reader, 1.8k, join the celebration!
“Steve, we’re gonna be late for the movie.”
“Who cares?” Steve’s voice was muffled from where his face was buried in your neck pressing kisses to it. You gave the hair at the back of his head a gentle tug, making him retreat to meet your gaze. His eyes were darker than usual in the backseat of his car, hair mussed, lips kiss-swollen. You were sure you looked the same.
“Uh, the ticket taker, probably?”
Steve huffed overdramatically, licking his lips. “We don’t have to watch the movie, y’know. We could always just stay here, doing what we’ve been doing. Doing some more stuff, preferably with less clothes…” You shot him an unimpressed look and he sighed, letting you climb off his lap and out of the car swiftly.
He followed rather begrudgingly, straightening out his wrinkled clothes the best he could, taming his hair back into the artfully messy appearance he’d styled it in before your hands had been through it. “Do I look okay?”
“Cute as usual, but you got a little something right there, pretty boy,” You said fondly, reaching out and swiping a smudge of your lipstick off the corner of his mouth. Steve’s eyes tracked your hand, not realizing he was leaning into your touch until your knuckles brushed against his cheekbone softly. He cleared his throat suddenly and you retreated, dropping your hand back down to your side. “How ‘bout me?”
“Beautiful as always.” He laced his fingers through yours, bringing you forward to dot a few kisses against your hairline before tugging you into step with him towards the movie theater.
The smell of popcorn hit you the moment you entered, the thought of a mountain of the buttery snack in a bucket giving you a little extra pep in your step and Steve noticed, because he gave your hand a squeeze.
A voice calling Steve’s name from behind the two of you made you both turn around. A boy and a girl were making their way towards you hand in hand, the girl’s free hand raised in a wave.
From beside you, Steve beamed. “Hey guys! Didn’t know you were gonna be here tonight.”
“Oh, Nance wanted to watch Labyrinth again.” The boy tipped his head towards his movie partner—girlfriend, you assumed. He looked at you, offering you a small but warm smile. “What about you guys?”
“This is my friend, Y/N. Y/N, this is Nance and Jonathan.” He introduced you so nonchalantly you almost scoffed. If Steve still considered you just a friend after all the time you’d been spending with each other and all the things you’d been doing with each other lately, then you’d hate to see what he did with his other friends. “We were just gonna catch that new Matthew Broderick movie, see if it’s any good. You seen it yet?”
“Not yet, I was gonna see if Will wanted to watch it with me. Seems like something he’d find funny.” Jonathan shrugged. His gaze just so happened to wander down to yours and Steve’s joined hands, but if it surprised him, he kept his composure, opting for a sharp nod. “Well, we won’t hold you. See you Friday, Steve? Hellfire’s meeting at our house this time and my mom’s making pot roast, so you’d better bring your appetite when you come pick up Dustin and the others.”
“When do I not?”
“Reliable as ever, Steve.” Nancy joked. “It was nice to see you again, and really nice to meet you, Y/N.”
You smiled at her as best you could, saying a soft goodbye before they made their way past the two of you.
“You okay? Kinda looks like you just got sucker punched.” Okay, so maybe your poker face wasn’t great. Steve looked genuinely concerned for your well-being, and you hated how it sent your stomach into a whirl. “Are you sick? Fuck, I knew Mike’s nasty cough would rub off on me, that little shit! I can take you home if you want, don’t worry about the movie.”
“I don’t want to go home, Steve.”
“We can always catch it another day, it’s gonna be here for a month at least, we—” He’d already started to guide you back towards the entrance, but you stopped him with a palm across his chest.
“Steve, stop. I’m not sick.”
“Then what’s wrong?”
You shook your head. “It’s nothing. It’s dumb.”
“No it's not. Something’s bothering you, c’mere,” He said gently, gesturing for the two of you to step to the side, out of the way so you could talk somewhat in private. “What’s going on?”
“You called me your friend.” You said quietly, trying to ignore the ugly knot in your stomach. It seemed so stupid now, getting all worked up over something as silly as a single word, but you couldn't lie to yourself. Or Steve for that matter.
It did feel like you’d gotten sucker punched.
Steve shot a confused look at you, tilting his head. “Was I not supposed to say that?”
“You really think I’m just your friend? After these last few weeks?”
“I thought—hold on, we were on the same page about this, weren’t we? No labels, no defining anything, just you and me.”
“Well yeah, but that was before you used your stupid charm on me and made me like you and your stupid hair more than I should.” You were more angry at yourself than anything. You should’ve known Steve didn’t feel the same way about you as you did about him, but you’d stupidly given yourself an ounce too much of hope.
Never mind the days you’d spent together wrapped up in each other’s embrace, talking about anything and everything until the sun set and your eyes grew heavy. Never mind the being on the phone with each other until dawn poked its head above the horizon, the kissing and the holding hands and the sipping coffee silently in the morning until one of you woke up just enough to fold the other into their embrace.
All of that meant nothing, because you and Steve were just friends.
“My charm? What are you—what are you talking about, my charm?”
“You seriously don’t know what I mean?”
“Does it look like I do?” He shot back, then winced. “Sorry. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be so sharp.”
“You got me flowers last week, Steve!”
“Yeah, ‘cause they were nice and I thought you’d like them!” He exclaimed, gesticulating wildly. You just stared at him, waiting for him to realize your point. When he did, his mouth dropped into a silent ‘oh’. “I—I didn’t mean—”
This was your worst fear—the reason why you didn’t want to bring it up at all. You had a good thing going with Steve, and now you’d just lost it. “Just forget I said anything, okay?”
“No. No, stay. Please. Talk to me, I wanna talk about this.” He insisted, nodding fiercely. His hands came to plant themselves on your shoulders, then retreated a split second later, like he didn’t know what to do with them anymore. Not even twenty minutes ago, he’d had no problem touching you.
You hated how things were already changing between the two of you. All because you’d gotten your feelings hurt about something small.
“I like you, Steve! There it is. I like you, and I don’t know what to do about it because I don’t know what you want from me.” You blurted, voice strained with emotion. You squeezed your eyes shut, digging the heels of your palms against them tightly for a few seconds before refocusing on Steve, who just looked stunned. “Am I just someone you fill your time with because you’re bored, or is this thing between us going somewhere? ‘Cause if it’s not, I’d like to know now. Before I fall for you any more than I already have.”
As much as you swore to yourself you weren’t going to cry, you could feel the tears welling in your eyes. You bit down hard on your bottom lip to quell them, and Steve noticed. His expression softened like butter and he reached out, rubbing a gentle hand down your arm.
“Hey, I—I’m sorry. I didn’t know you felt that way, I swear.” Steve’s voice was soft. Comforting. You could tell what you’d just confessed was really eating away at him. That was another thing you liked about Steve. Whenever you told him something, he always took it seriously. “Guess we do kinda need to talk about the elephant in the room.”
“By all means, you first.” You muttered, folding your arms over your chest. Steve inhaled a sharp breath, letting it out as a heavy exhale through his mouth.
“I don’t exactly have the best track record with girls. I’m sure you’ve heard about what I was like in high school. I was a dick, plain and simple. I did things I’m not proud of, and I hurt people, but I swear on my life, I’m not that person anymore. I’m not…him anymore.” He looked almost upset with the way his jaw clenched, brow furrowing deeply at the mention of his past.
You’d heard plenty about the high and mighty King Steve, and part of you didn’t want to believe it. This was the same Steve who helped old ladies carry their groceries and always played basketball with the neighborhood kids when they needed another player.
“I guess I just didn’t wanna say the wrong thing and jinx what we’ve got going here, because I…I want this to go somewhere. I really like you too, Y/N. And I know it’s only been a few weeks but I—” Steve cut himself off with a short chuckle, raking a hand through his hair and bunching it at the nape of his neck before letting the strands fall back into place.
His expression was cynical, like he was positive you were about to reject him and leave him here in this dim parking lot and never talk to him again. You weren’t going to, obviously, but Steve was a worst case scenario kind of guy. “I think I’m already falling in love with you.”
“You’ve sure got a shitty way of showing it, Harrington.” You huffed, but there was no real anger behind your words. In fact, you were looking at him quite fondly, and the way you bumped your shoulder against his seemed promising.
“Believe me, I know that already. Workin’ on it everyday, though.” He shook his head with another chuckle. Even you cracked a tiny smile at that, sniffling slightly. “Can we start over?”
“I’d like that very much.”
“Yeah?” He perked up, looking pleased. You nodded and he beamed even brighter, sticking his hand out for you to shake. “Hi. I’m Steve, I think you're amazing, and I wanted to know if you’d like to watch a movie with me.”
follow @katsu-library to be notified when i post new fics :)
#kait's 2k!#steve harrington#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington x you#steve harrington x y/n#steve harrington one shot#steve harrington fic#steve harrington imagine
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⊹ note. . .stole this idea from my wife's thoughts :( so sorry stinky but it was too hot− you are truly a genius <3 ya'll she did one here so go check hers out as well !!! >:( | no warnings, it's pretty straightfoward− you ride kolya's face with clown makeup on <3 kolya eats ass btw he told me (mdni)
↓ divider is by @/cafekitsune !! :D
you finally pulled away from your boyfriend− the clownish makeup suiting him perfectly. it was totally his style too, and he loved it. though you will say, the process of actually putting the makeup on him was quite....exhausting. he kept touching random products and asking you stupid questions like−
"hey- baby, what does this do?" he was holding up a container of concealer, pumping some out and rubbing it on his hands like soap. you quickly snatched the bottle away from him− facepalming as he sniffed his hand and looked up at you with a grin. "don't waste the product, kolya! this was like− 30 dollars!" you scolded, putting it away from his reach. nikolai only pouted before sitting still and letting you resume your work.
yeah, that was very irritating but whatever, right? at least the suffering was worth the final product. god, did he look like the most handsome clown ever− towering over you with a malicious grin as he slowly backed you up against the wall. "my my, what a pretty lady we have here? why has such a beauty like you come to this humble clown?" ugh, was he really getting into character right now? whatever, you figured it would be fun to play along, right?
"well, mister clown, I wanted to see what tricks you have up those sleeves of yours~" you spoke slowly, feigning innocence as you gave him your best doe-eyes, getting on your tippy toes to wrap your arms around the so called "clown's" neck− his lips stretching to reveal a downright maniacal grin as he gripped your waist, "oh my ! well, I'd be glad to show you a very... special trick of mine.."
and that's how you ended up seated comfortably on nikolai's face− him being nose deep into your gushing cunt as you gripped the headboard. "f-fuck− kolya! feels so good.." you babbled, basically humping his face− the lipstick you put on him earlier now completely smudged, some of it even stained your inner thighs− and of course on your pretty little clit.
he didn't tease− nor did he want to this time, much to your surprise. and who were you to complain when his tongue was buried deep inside of you? his pointy nose nudging your clit as he devoured you like his very last meal on earth. his hands were grabbing the plush globes of your ass− fingernails digging into the soft fat which were for sure to leave marks the following morning.
"s-shit− doll," he moaned into your cunt, eyes rolling back behind closed lids as he went drunk from your taste. you tasted like the sweetest ambrosia to him and god, was it nasty how his tongue pulled out of your pussy to lick at your puckered hole− a squeal leaving your mouth at the new sensation. your hips were shaking at this point, nails digging into the hard wood of your bedpost and leaving small indents. kolya only snickered at your reaction before going back to slurp at your cunt.
you felt borderline intoxicated by the feeling of his tongue pushing in and out− nose repeatedly brushing against your swollen clit and something in you finally snapped.
nikolai let out a guttural groan when you grabbed a fistful of his snowy hair before grinding down on his face. his eyes widened momentarily at your bold move, slurping your juices with even more ferocity and eagerness− he was desperate to have you cum all over his mouth.
and you did, squirting all over his face with a broken moan leaving your plump lips− your lover happily gulping down everything you had to offer.
you finally got off his face once he was done cleaning you up, and god was he drenched. nikolai's face was flushed down to his neck, the makeup completely ruined− leaving him looking utterly debauched. a sleazy grin splayed on his swollen red lips but his eyes held mischief, "didn't expect you to squirt f'me, sweetheart. should've done this ages ago."
"yeah, yeah− lets clean up now, hm?" you sighed, running a hand through your mess of a ponytail. "oh, but we haven't even gone to the good part yet~" he pouted, wrapping his arms around you as he buried his face into your neck, breathing in your scent.
"I'll suck you o−!" you got cut off by your own yelp when nikolai picked you up by the back of your knees− your back flush against his heaving chest.
"nuh uh, dove. i'm gonna fuck you and fill you up till i'm satisfied.." he laughed, slapping the tip of his cock against your sensitive cunt.
"after all.. you wanted to see what tricks this clown has up his sleeves, right?"
©sachiyoh— do not copy, plagiarize and repost my works to any platform, reblogs are very appreciated♡
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#bsd#bungo stray dogs#bsd smut#bsd x reader smut#bsd x reader#bungo stray dogs x reader#bungou stray dogs x reader#bungo stray dogs smut#bungou stray dogs smut#bsd fics#bsd nikolai#nikolai gogol#nikolai smut#nikolai x reader smut#nikolai x reader#bsd imagines#nikolai gogol x reader#nikolai gogol x reader smut#nikolai gogol smut#nikolai imagines#౨ৎ — archive・
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❛ ♡. header credit. ⎯⎯ 𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐲. ❜
𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐩𝐭᛬ michael gavey as your boyfriend.
author’s note᛬ hii ! ♡ first time posting a concept on here--- & first time writing for my boyfriend, michael gavey. [also… i know we haven’t seen michael smoking cigarettes in the film; but it’s my canon that he does!] i hope y’all like it…& please, reblog & give me ur feedback. thank u! 🍒
warnings᛬ mdni! mentions of smut, profanity, she/her pronouns, afab reader, pussy whipped!michael, mentions of oral sex (m + f), demeaning names, [slight] mentions of bullying, pet names, romance, fluff. any grammatical errors are my own--- in advance, i sincerely apologize.
word count᛬ 591.
𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝑭𝑼𝑪𝑲𝑰𝑵𝑮 𝐈𝐍𝐕𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐃.
꒰ ⋆ ♡⃘ michael gavey would be the most perfect, adoring and loving boyfriend--- though he could also be quite cruel sometimes; a bit of an asshole, too… all due to him being a cocky, little smartass. michael gavey is head over heels in love with you. like, obsessive--- ‘will do anything you ask of him’ in love with you. michael gavey can be a complete and utter menace; one moment, he is a total dick to you because you’re not understanding what he has been trying to explain to you [for almost two hours now], from a class you both share--- and the next, he’s apologizing with a bouquet of a dozen red roses and his mouth on your cunt for hours. afterwards, romantic words from your favorite poets would spill from his soft, naturally curved mouth, while he’d casually hand feed you cherries, occasionally lighting up cigarettes for himself. michael gavey is so ridiculously smart, he finds it quite unbelievable how utterly dense you can be whenever he compliments and flirts with you, though you'd think he's just joking around, or being a tease--- honestly, he thinks it’s kind of cute how oblivious you can be to his affections.
michael gavey might not look like it, but he’s the type of man to fuck you nasty style; can be quite possessive over you, too. most days, when your boyfriend michael gavey is studying for an upcoming exam, a lit cigarette hanging loosely from his plush lips, while his nimble fingers continued skimming through page after page of his massive textbooks, studying nonstop. sneakily, you’d go into his dormitory and drop down to your knees, before taking him into your mouth and eagerly sucking him off, causing a shout from him when he eventually comes down your raw, sore throat--- “my poor, little baby girl… such a naughty fucking thing,” he’d coo mockingly, clenching both of your blushy cheeks together with his long fingers, before he’d claim your mouth in a dirty, deeply passionate kiss.
michael gavey adores seeing you wearing his clothes, especially his oversized sweaters, because that way he can ruthlessly rut into your weeping cunt while fucking you from behind; with you only wearing his sweater. michael gavey loves the taste of your strawberry flavored lipgloss [nearly as much as he loves the taste of your sweet little pussy]--- he loves kissing your plump, juicy, glossy lips whenever he can; and fuck, having your glossy lips wrapped around his cock? let’s just say, it’s embarrassing how quickly he shoots his load down your willing, suffocating throat.
michael gavey loves the way that you smell--- like red roses, strawberry lipgloss, vanilla perfume, sweet scented candles [courtesy of you lighting them all around his dormitory], and your skin… fuckin’ hell; soft as satin and sweet as honey, always smelling of the lavender body lotion he bought for you one random day that the two of you were out shopping [yes, he was holding all of your bags like a perfect gentleman]. michael gavey might be called on the daily a loser or even a freak, but he knows that regardless of the name calling; you’ll always stand by his side, defending him with your foul [glossy] mouth. michael gavey thinks of you as his soft, delicate little angel with a heart made of glass that he must protect at all costs. michael gavey would do absolutely anything you ask of him, he is just so fucking whipped for you; you’re his first love, and hopefully, you’ll be his last.
#꒰ ⋆ ♡⃘ 𝗇𝗈𝖺’𝗌 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝗄𝗌. ꒱#saltburn#michael gavey#michael gavey x reader#michael gavey x you#michael gavey x y/n#ewanverse#ewan nation#ewan mitchell
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♥️ Kinks with ShiuToji!
toji x afab!reader x shiu (drabble!)
au where you're in a situationship w toji and his friend shiu
theres very little shiu this time...which is funny cus he's my fav <3 anyway hope you enjoy, next post might be abt eating out / fingering / stuff that turns them on outside of kinks
Toji's into nasty sex, nasty means cum everywhere kind of shit. Hes definitely into spitting into your mouth.He also loves the way your eyes roll back when he cums in you, but he doesnt stop to give you a breather. He fucks you right through your orgasm. Maybe even makes his thrusts harder just to hear you scream.
Toji is the type of guy who would send you random lingerie pics at the middle of the night with the caption "just jacked off rn. thinking of you shaking your ass on my dick while wearing this".
Toji sending a couple of videos and pictures of him jacking off to your panty soaking it up with his cum, while you’re possibly out with friends or work. With the words “wear this soaked panty when you come home”.
Toji would also tell you to touch yourself and send him a video of it, no matter the time and place. Lazing around at home? Send him a video of your fit. Hanging out with your friends? Make up and excuse and run to the stalls to send him that video.
He sends you videos of him jacking off and you can clearly hear the slicky and sticky sounds from his cock as he grunts into the phone. If he's planning on sending something to Shiu he'll definitely tell you WHILE he's recording it. Just a quick and simple, "gonna send this to Shiu, say sumthin' for him"
"Fuck Shiu, youre definitely missing out buddy", He says as he zooms in to your chest, "Just look at how her tiddies are shaking, I bet she wishes you were here to suck on them". He pulls on your chest and gives it a hard smack.
Toji grunts as mutters into the phone, "Shiu if you dont get here soon, I might ruin her pussy before you even have the chance to fuck her"
Toji is definitely into fisting , plus he likes double penetration a lot. He loves to see how much you can actually take. Toji has a breeding kink too definitely , he loves seeing his cum ooze out of you- a marking of sorts.
Shiu will definitely have a vibrator inside you as you walk home. If he sees you visibly calming down or getting used to it, he'll turn up the speed at random times (BJ alex MD style). Shiu likes seeing you play with his toys more than anything else. Also has a slight daddy kink.
#yujisgirl#♥️ Blowjobs with ShiuToji!#toji x afab!reader x shiu (drabble!)#anime#headcannons#jjk#jjk smut#jjk toji#jujutsu toji#toji fushiguro#toji smut#fushiguro toji#toji x reader#jujutsu kaisen smut#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen toji#smut drabble#imagine#anime smut#smut#jujutsu kaisen headcanons#jujutsu kaisen x reader#toji x you#toji x y/n#toji x female reader#toji x f!reader#toji fushiguro x reader#toji fushiguro x you#jujustsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen 2
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