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bonewreath · 3 months

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so, your best friend accidentally sent you a video of her masturbating. what now?

18+ below! smut smut smut!

ellie’s bedroom is heavy with the scent of sex, her fingers still pruned from her own wetness. she’s spent the last few minutes tense and panicked, too paralyzed with anxiety to get up and put some clothes on, and she’s considering what she’ll change her name to and where she’ll move to start a new life when you finally, finally text her back.

it’s okay. give me a second to reply, alright?

the weight on her chest eases a bit at your reassurance, but a new spark of uncertainty flares up at the second part of the message: give me a second to reply. jaw tight, she sends you a question mark, then follows up with you don’t have to respond. it’s probably better if you don’t?? again i’m so fucking sorry.

but as the minutes tick by, slow and lazed, she starts to panic again. her mind conjures every possible response you could send her next: an angry thesis statement on why ellie’s a disgusting pervert, a seething comment about how stupid she must be for sending a video like that so carelessly. would you ever look at her the same way? would things ever be the same?

all it takes is another notification from you to make every imagined worst-case scenario evaporate. ellie clicks the notification as soon as it pops up, chewing on the soft flesh of her inner lip.

it’s a video.

you sent her a video.

she hits the play button without a second thought, heartbeat thudding in her ears.

“i know you’re probably embarrassed,” you say, head tilting as you frown with sympathy. a blush paints ellie’s cheeks bright red. “but i need you to know how wet that made me.”

holding the camera up, you extend your arm outwards to reveal the rest of your body - your naked body, ellie realizes with a shock. she sits up in bed, back ramrod straight, her phone shaking as a nervous tremor strikes through her. but she can’t look away - not when you’re tracing a hand down the soft curves of your body, fingertips grazing over one peaked nipple, then moving lower, lower. ellie swears she’s forgotten how to breathe.

you release a pleased hum. “i liked watching you touch yourself,” you say, so matter-of-fact. “i hope you like watching me.”

and she does, god she does. she settles back down onto the mattress, eyes never leaving the screen as you work two fingers through your soaked folds. you moan and sigh and keen, rolling your hips down against your own hand, the wet sounds of your pussy so intoxicating, ellie can’t believe she’s gone her whole life without seeing you like this.

and it might be wrong, the way her own hand drifts between her legs to find herself still hot and wet, but she doesn’t have it in herself to care. she dips a finger inside of herself as she watches you ride your own hand, grinding down on your palm as your fingers work in and out of your cunt. she finds a rhythm that matches your own; soon enough, you’re both gasping at the pleasure building beneath your waistline. with every roll of your hips, ellie’s cunt tightens, flooding with slickness - as if she could get any wetter.

as you get closer to the edge, your grip on your phone falters and the camera starts to shake. ellie hisses and curses under her breath when your phone captures the blissed-out look on your face: eyes rolled back, brows pulled together, teeth sinking into your lower lip.

“oh - oh my god,” you stutter, panting, “i’m gonna come, ellie.”

ellie. ellie ellie ellie.

“holy fuck.” ellie’s pussy clamps down around her fingers at the sound of her name on your lips; her thumb glides over her clit just right, and she didn’t think she’d come this fast but she does, her vision exploding into blinding white as her orgasm crashes into her. it’s the only time she looks away from the video on her screen - but she certainly hears your orgasm, all high-pitched moans and ragged breaths, your cunt gushing onto your fingers.

when ellie finds the strength to open her eyes again, the video is still playing. you’re catching your breath, chest shimmering with a thin layer of sweat. you look at the camera and smile. ellie thinks she might pass out.

“thanks for the video,” you say, lifting your free hand up to wave.

when you bring your fingers to your mouth and purse your lips around them, sucking them clean of your own come, ellie’s sure she’s going to pass out.

and then, she decides, she’s going to fuck you stupid.

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ridingthatd · 6 months

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Can I request reader accidentally peeing on jjk men during sex and how they would react, please 🙏🏽

If you don't want to do this, though, it's ok :)

୨୧˚ ˚୨୧ OVER SIMULATION

୨୧˚ ˚୨୧ chosoxfem!reader, nsfw, heavy smut, kinky asf, choso filthy, squirting

you have never thought that what's happening right now could ever happen.

choso kamo. choso was new to the way his body acted. he was new to all the emotions humans held. he was new to feeling any sort of ways- that he himself couldn't even describe.

choso is a half-human, half-cursed spirit with a body of flesh and blood. choso has always been calm, collective and non-threatening unless it involves his family, whom he has a special bond with and seeks to avenge their deaths.

but something have been messing with his compose, making him confused on what was he feeling. something more like- someone a specific person have been playing with his peaceful mind and body.

at first choso was convinced maybe it was a curse technique , a curse technique that has his body feeling tingles- ready to explode, that has his body burning up like he's bathing in a hot spring, that has his mind foggy- filled with your scent, filled with images of your body, filled with the memories of your ghost touch- so soft, so warm, every touch of yours left a fire trial on him.

but it made him even more confused to know that no- it wasn't a cursed technique . he tried and tried and tried, choso lost count on how many times he tried to avoid the feeling, to push the strong heat, to focus on something else other then you- to focus on his brothers, but he failed.

he couldn't push those feelings away, it was the opposite, he craved them, he wanted more no- he needed more. he needed more of your touchs, he needed more of your scent, he needed more of your body heat on his. he craved it- he craved the way your mouth quirk up, the way the two plumpy glands of yours boucned up each time you giggled, he need to have a feel of them. he needed to have a feel- the swaynes of your hips always caught his dark eyes.

he needed all of you.

choso chuckled darkly to himself, chuckling like a maniac- smirking as he looks at the throbbing fat cock in his huge hands. leaking precum from his red clit, ready to breed the person that's been messing with his soul.

so this is why he's been feeling this way? he wanted to knot you up, his smile widen- "y/n, my y/n you're going to be added to my family" he huffs out firmly, his fat cock twitching at the thought of you all knocked up with his seed, giving him his own little family.

he wants you so bad, he thrust his hips up groaning as cold air hits his burning aching cock, he was so red- so close to exploding.

his cock always been active ready to mate you whenever he's around you- whenever he thinks about you. even though he held a straight firm face but his mind and body were screaming, cock leaking in his pants- demanding your warm pussy. demanding to fill it up with his seeds. demanding to have you right here.

his mind runs around with ways- with fantasies about you, things he can do to you, getting your womb round and nice with his seed while your two soft glands- boobs filled with milk- his milk, he would greedily suck on them drink your milk whenever he wants, suckling on the hard bud while your white liquid gush out of it like a streaming river- a streaming river ready to feed the starved man.

he can make you whine his name, he wants to make you feel good just like you make him feel good, choso wasn't experienced but he wanna learn- learn ways he can make you lose your mind. fuck you, breed you, he wanna stuff you with his cum, he wanna see his cum squirting out of your pussy from being to stuffed, he wanna-

cum squirts out of his fat cock, thighs thrusting in the air, heavy breathing, choso didn't notice the spit running down his mouth.

he looks down at his cock hoping it's down- just to see it up again, fully hard still demanding your tight little pussy.

he whimpers as he touchs the tip- he was so sensitive, frustration tears fills his eyes as he whines out a-

"need to fill you"

you have never thought that what's happening right now could ever happen.

choso kamo. here he was standing in the door way of your dorm. he always had his hair up in a ponytail but this time it was down.

"can you help me please?" he whines out- almost sounded like he was on average of crying.

and you don't blame him as you stare at his huge leaking cock, his tip was so red as the precum trail down to the veins that surrounded his cock. it twitched at the attention you were giving it- your heated eyes on it, lips between your teeth.

choso can't take it anymore as he makes his way towards you, holding his cock in his hand- giving it firm strokes, whimpering in process. "I don't know what to do" you feel his hot breath on the shell of your ears as he mutters out.

"choso i-" you were cut off by his body weight pushing you into your bed, his cock still in his hand Shamesly stroking it as he looks at you- eyes hazy filled with lust, mouth half open as shakily breaths out.

"please y/n" he whines out, his hips thrusting up to meet his hand- oh god, oh god you were for sure gonna regret your next decision.

choso whimpers as you gently yet painfully stroke his fat cock, precum drenching your hand, nothing but wet sounds coming from your hand making contact with his cock fills the room. you slowly circle the red tip, swirling his cum causing choso to shudder and snuggle his face into your neck, feeling his warm breath on you.

"shhh I know, baby I know" you softly whisper as you feel his hot tears trailing down your neck- poor baby it was clearly new for him, the sensation was to much. choso slowly trail his nose down your neck to the cleavage of your boobs breathing in your scent.

from the corner of your eyes you can see him looking at them hungerly, mouth aching watering to lash on your nipple that were poking under your shirt begging for his warm tongue to relief them.

"can I?" choso questions as he slowly push your shirt up, you eagerly nodded to high on pleasure to even think twice. choso admires your plumpy boobs- boobs that were ready to be filled with milk very soon he thought, as soon as he lash on your nipples he let's out a vulnerable, his hips automatically jerks into your hand as you fondle his heavy balls.

your jerks started to become sloppy and fast- his hips matching your pace, whining into your nipples, your sensitive nipples that were filled with his spit- every inch was covered with his spit that left a string connected to his mouth.

"ah- y/n I'm gonna-" he groans out as he takes a nipple he been sucking on with a pop. your hands only go faster, your panties were a pool now, you have never been this turned on your whole life.

"let it all out baby" you softly whisper, giving a last painful tug before he's spilling all his cum on your hands, hips jerking- god it was so hot, it was a lot, he came with shoots, body still jerking- twitching.

you thought this was gonna end, you thought he was going to be exhausted but oh how wrong you were cause choso pins you down on your bed, desperately shoving his tongue into your mouth, wanting your taste.

you let out a moan as you feel his large hands tear your panties without hesitation, he pulls away, you gasp as you feel his warm spit hitting your pussy, drooling on it, completely lost in the wetness of it.

"lemme make you feel good" he hurriedly says, not even letting you answer as he burry his face into your pussy, stroking his face on it smudging all your wetness.

"tell me how can I make you feel good please-fuck please" how can you deny him anything when he's looking at you this way between your legs. hair down, face red, drool leaving his mouth, eyes hazy.

"lick me down here baby" you say guiding his hand into your pussy, groaning at the feeling. choso eyes widen, he whines before his body jerks and he cums on your sheets- he cums just from you saying that.

"fuck I can't- fuck" you gasp as he eagerly burry his nose inside your pussy, sniffing before he dives in, locking his mouth into clit, lapping like a maniac.

"choso slow-" you scream as he shove his thumb into your ass, you look down at him with tears just to see him smiling at you.

"this hole mine to" he whispers before kissing your clit and latching on it again, maintaining eye contact with you as his thumb hit a spot inside of you.

you cry out, body shaking, hes licking you like a beast- his tongue tongue his tongue was inhumane, going from your asshole licking over his thumb that was plugged inside your ass before swirling back to your clit and pussy.

your eyes widen as you feel a huge earge of peeing- you harshly tug on his hair, trying to move, your stomach shrinks once you say the way he grales at you for denying his meal, shoving another finger as a punishment.

"no- I have to- I have to pee" you whine struggling to hold the feeling but your words only seem to make him eat you more aggressively, having him hump the bed so excited at yours words, groaning.

"in my mouth please let it in my mouth" he moans mouth full of your pussy, your bed start creaking at his hard humps, as soon as you feel him adding a 3rd finger in you lose it all.

you squirt out with a scream, hot stream leaving your pussy and spilling on his face- choso whimpers once he feels the hot liquid, opening his mouth wide, drinking in the hot liquid that kept gushing out, your body shakes- you cry ashamed and turned on by what's happening.

your stream kept going- making choso roll his eyes back into his skull and cumming undone for the 3rd time on your bed sheets, locking his mouth into your tiny pee opening just below your clit, drinking in every last drop.

you lay down twitching every once in awhile as chosos hot breath lands on your pussy, you wanted to die from how embarrassed you felt- ashamed that you had peed on non other then choso.

"one more please?" choso whispers into your pussy giving it kitten licks, staring at you.

you were doomed.

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11rosebunny · 1 month

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How they like to be touched (BOFURIN + SHISHITOREN)

Haruka Sakura

For the love of God please hold his hand and play with his fingers. The second you do that it's possible he could potentially get a fever over 90 degrees. He's not very big on physical touch as many others would think, seen by his behaviour and personality, it almost seems like he hates it because of how nervous he gets.

So when it comes to gentle and thought out touches like holding his pinky and eventually adding two of his fingers to three and holding onto them, he freaks out. In a good way don't worry.

He'll most likely not even look your way when you're holding his hand, afraid he might just burst into a thousand pieces. But to ensure you he's enjoying it, he gives your hand a small squeeze to indicate he feels safe with you.

Hajime Umemiya

Wrapping your arms around his neck. Don't expect to be on your feet whenever you do that because he will start bolting with you in his arms.

He absolutely loves it whenever you hug him from behind if he's crouching down when he's gardening. Hugging him from in front also works for him. But if you're simply just resting your body on his while he's crouching on the ground and you jump on his back, he'll start laughing before standing up and giving you piggy back ride before running around in circles to make you laugh.

Toma Hiragi

Whatever you do, do not caress his face if you're simply just wiping dirt off his cheek, he may or may not give into his intrusive thoughts and bite the shit out of your hand, not out of fear but because he might explode into pieces.

Something about how you stare directly at his face, even if you're not making eye contact with him (he sure as hell is making eye contact with you though) he finds you so beautiful when you're taking care of him.

You'll accuse him of going red but he ends up yelling at you and saying it's because the weather is just hot.

Taiga Tsugeura

As mentioned before, if you ever hold his arm while walking around, sitting on a chair beside him, or if you pull him somewhere to make him look at something, he will now expect you to hold onto his arm for the remainder of the day.

The first time it ever happened he went batshit crazy and couldn't stop thinking about the fact that you, held onto, his arm. He always thinks about if his arms need to be bigger so it would feel comfortable whenever you'd hold onto them.

It makes him feel big and strong, like he can protect you from anything once you do that.

Mitsuki Kiryu

When you play with his hair. The first time you played with it was when you were just bored and decided to braid a few strands of his hair as he was sitting down in front of you on the floor. You were on the couch right above him so it made things even easier. He felt your fingers run through his hair and had to pause his game to process what was happening.

Afterwards, once he felt the way how relaxing and good it felt feeling your fingers run through his hair ever so gently, he sometimes asks you to take out any of his dead hairs as a way to just get you to run your fingers through his hair again.

Hayato Suo

Similar to Sakura, when you intertwine your fingers with him while holding his hand, better if you also run your thumb up and down the flesh of his hand.

He digs for innocent touches and loves to hold hands, even out in public. He doesn't mind who sees him, as long as it's not his group of boys otherwise they'd start asking him the next day with too many questions to answer.

It's become so normalized to him when it comes to holding hands, sometimes he'll just straight up grab yours without even thinking twice.

Jo Togame

He likes touching you more than he like you touching himself. For the most part, he always makes sure you're comfortable and happy and so he touches you in places where he knows you like it, but he doesn't mind it if you touch him back. His favourite way of having physical contact with you is when you're sitting down right beside him so he could place his hand on your inner thigh.

He doesn't do it in any sexual way by any means possible, maybe a few times just to see you go red, but for the most part, he just likes the way it feels. He's a sucker for mitigate acts of touches.

Tomiyama Choji

This one isn't surprising but he likes it when you cuddle with him. He's a very touchy person by heart and will somehow get his hands on you in any way he can, but if you two so happen to be innocently cuddling, he could fall asleep in seconds.

The way your body feels warm and how soft your touches soothe his skin, it makes him melt into a puddle of ice cream, he loves it whenever he feels safe around you.

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dilemmaontwolegs · 3 months

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Ok I know you said time won't make them nicer to each other.

But I need her reaction to Carlos being diagnosed with appendicitis. Maybe she's the one that takes him to the hospital?!

The Uphill Battle {2} || CS55

Warnings: 18+ only, nsfw, smut, name calling, angst

WC: 2.9k

Part One

Carlos was grumpier than usual. And that was saying something since he had been in a mood since the news broke about Lewis taking his seat. You could understand that after losing seats to guys all the time before getting a spot in the Academy. Carlos, however, was not used to that feeling and it showed as he pushed himself harder at each training.

“You’re too weak,” he taunted as you wiped the sweat from your brow and started another set of reps with trembling arms. “It’s like you don’t even want to be in F1.”

You let the weight bar fall into the shelf and sat up. “Go project yourself onto someone else, you miserable shit.”

After taking second place at the feature race in Bahrain you had shown you had the drive for F1, but it didn’t seem to change his training approach. He was still firmly on the path of insult until you explode and prove him wrong. To be fair, it had worked so far.

A muscled arm, followed by a bare chest, blocked your way when you stood up, a sneer pulling at his lips. “You’re not funny.”

“I wasn’t joking. Now get out of my way, you have free practice to get ready for.”

He looked at the clock on the wall and sighed. He hadn’t meant to let time get away from him but when he found you in the gym he decided to finish his warm up routine alongside you. It had been a mistake because he couldn’t help but pester and critique you until he completely forgot what he was meant to be doing.

“Fine, but you need to stay and finish your set. That was just embarrassing to watch.”

“I’m done. With you. And with your training. Go fuck yourself, Junior.” You shoved past him, your elbow connecting with his gut, before you made your way to the stack of towels. You felt his presence follow you to the changing rooms and he closed the door to the shower cubicle.

“You’re done when I say you are done,” Carlos growled, turning you to face him before he pressed your back to the cold tile wall.

You tipped your head back and laughed darkly. “Only for the next nine months, then I’m Lewis’ problem. Or, maybe I’ll get the golden boy as my PT. Charles seems sweet and kind, I wouldn’t mind testing his patience.”

“Listen here, you little-” Whatever threat you would have ignored was lost as you flipped the handle of the cold tap and washed it gush out of the showerhead and straight into Carlos’ face.

“You were saying?”

“Brat.” The timber in his voice had the desired effect as his hand enveloped your throat and pulled you under the cold spray. His lips crashed against yours and his thigh nudged your legs apart, your hips riding the thick muscle as you kissed him back just as passionately. “I really hate you.”

You grinned, but it was more a baring of teeth ready to sink into his skin. “I don’t even hate you, that’s how little I feel about you.”

His palm glided over your ribs, touching the flesh bared by the sports bra you trained in, and slipped between the waistband of your shorts. His fingers spread your folds and curled into your core as your head fell back against the tiles.

“You feel something,” Carlos chuckled, dipping his head down to leave his mark on the swell of your breast. “Or you wouldn’t feel so fucking wet.”

“God I hate it when you open your mouth, just fuck me already.”

Carlos pulled the elastic waistband and let it snap back against your skin. The twanging pain was instant but then it was gone as he dragged the material down your legs. Another ache flared as he sunk his teeth into the soft supple skin on your thigh and you cried out at the heat that radiated from the indents he left behind.

“Fucking savage,” you growled, but you both knew how much you liked it that way.

“Sticks and stones, malcriada.”

You were needy, impatient, and well aware someone would come looking for Carlos as the countdown to free practice began. The lure of a verbal repartee would have to wait if you wanted some pleasure to balance out the pain in the arse that was Carlos. You pushed Carlos onto the bench where your dry towel had been abandoned and he lifted his hips for you to drag his shorts off.

“You gonna ride this di-“ You slapped your hand over his mouth to silence him and straddled his hips, sinking down on his cock with a moan that echoed around the changing room.

“Be a good boy and keep the commentary to yourself if you want a happy ending,” you warned as you let your hand fall to his shoulder and started to roll your hips. He heeded your words and bit his bottom lip to keep from saying something that would leave him with blue balls.

His hands gripped your waist and guided you up and down, setting rhythm that had you bouncing on his dick and an orgasm quickly building. The heat flashing across your body was the perfect contrast to the droplets of cold water collecting on your back and shivering down your spine.

“Fuck, harder,” you begged as your head fell back and he grazed his teeth over your throat. Your gasp filled the small cubicle as he nipped sharply at your skin and you raked your nails down his chest, earning a deep groan from his parted lips. The pained sound made your cunt clench and flutter before he suddenly stood up and turned you to face the wall. The emptiness within your body was quickly filled with the snap of his hips and his hand slapped over your mouth to muffle the cry at the sudden fullness.

“Shut up and take it,” he ordered quietly in your ear. “This is what you asked for.”

Carlos’ hands fell to your hips, bruising your skin with their harsh grip as he pounded into you. The slap of your bodies colliding filled the small space and your eyes rolled back into your head as your legs began to tremble. Your breathing deepened and you forgot where you were as your mind emptied and your body exploded.

“Fuck, that feels good,” Carlos moaned, your walls tightening around him with your orgasm. A wordless grunt warmed your ear before he sealed his lips over your racing pulse and left his mark while he filled your cunt.

Your forehead pressed to the cool tile as you regained your breath and Carlos pulled out, chuckling as he watched his cum leak down your still trembling thighs. “God, you’re a whore.”

“That’s more of an insult to you, desperado,” you teased. “Should I send the invoice to you or Sainz Senior?”

You forced yourself upright and stepped under the cold spray to see his smirk fade as you washed his seed away. You both jumped at the loud knock on the bathroom door and a voice called out, “Carlos, are you in there? You’re going to be late.”

“Just a sec,” Carlos shouted back before attempting to step under the now warm spray. You cast your hands out, splaying your fingers across his torso, catching the pained wince that crossed his face.

“Tsk, tsk, Daddy’s calling,” you said with a shake of your head.

He looked down at himself, the evidence of what transpired glistening on his cock. “Seriously?”

It was your turn to smirk and push him back further before waving him off. “Good luck.”

Free practice was already underway by the time you finished showering and changing into fresh Ferrari merch. No one really paid you any mind as you found a good spot on the balcony above the pit lane and watched the final 30 minutes of track time.

Despite there being better performers, your eyes kept being drawn back to your PT and the lowly 7th place he finished. You had catalogued a list of insults for him and went down to the debrief room ready to rule him up when you found him leaning against the corridor wall. Lines from his balaclava creased his cheeks and his eyes screwed shut as he clutched a hand to his stomach.

“Don’t think playing sick will let you off the hook for that performance,” you said as you crossed your arms.

There was no humour in his face, no wry amusement that usually came with your insults. Instead, he silently pushed off from the wall and made his way on towards the briefing room.

You kind of felt bad as you left the track and returned to the hotel. There had been a misstep in the turbulent dance that had been going on for months and you were left unsettled by it. Nothing on the tv could distract you enough that you finally gave up and took the elevator to Carlos’ floor. It was late but you figured he would still be awake as you knocked on his door.

“You look like shit,” you greeted, but your voice was thick with concern. “What’s wrong?”

Sweat beaded on his forehead and the sickly sheen covered his bare chest too. Reaching out, you felt his skin burning like a furnace and he swayed on his feet before leaning on the doorway.

“You don’t care, so just go,” he rasped, his voice pained and weak.

You rolled your eyes and stepped around him to see a sick bowl on the coffee table with some painkillers beside it and a rumpled blanket spread over the couch. He made to follow but he could barely hold himself up and it was only your arms that kept him collapsing. “Fuck sake, Carlos, you need a hospital.”

“Just need sleep,” he argued. His body shivered and his throat worked to swallow but you had been through enough hangovers to know what was coming. You leapt for the sick bowl and barely got it under his face before he hurled up the bright blue electrolyte drink that you spotted on the table.

“Where’s your phone and your keys?” He peeked up from the bowl pitifully and he saw the determined look on your face before pointing to the kitchen. “Can you stand on your own? Don’t look so offended, it’s a reasonable question in your state.”

“I’m fine.”

“And I’m Max Verstappen.” You let go of him for a second to see if he would crumple to the carpet but he seemed to hold himself on pure stubbornness so you dashed to the kitchen to dump the bowl in the sink and grab his belongings.

“Planning on robbing me too?” he asked as he noticed you grabbed his wallet too.

“Since I’m apparently a whore, you owe me a hefty debt,” you muttered sarcastically. “It’s for your ID, asshole.”

Carlos didn’t deign to respond as he curled one arm around your shoulders, leaning heavily into your embrace, and the other clutched his abdomen.

“You’ve been in pain since practice, haven’t you?”

“Maybe…can we just go?”

You pocketed his things and took as much weight as you could off him, using every ounce of your strength training as you guided him to the elevator. It was strange to see him so reserved in the elevator mirror as it headed down to the underground car park and it was even stranger to sit in the driver seat of his car.

“Please don’t crash it,” he murmured as you started it up and headed out into the street.

“I know you don’t believe it, but I am actually a decent driver,” you muttered. The city traffic was busy 24/7 but the satnav came in handy with the directions to the emergency room at the nearest hospital. “Should I call your dad?”

“No. It’s probably nothing but a stomach bug.”

That ‘probably nothing’ turned out to be acute appendicitis. You could have laughed at how spectacularly wrong Carlos was but you were too worried as he was wheeled away to surgery and you were left to make a phone call.

‘Do not call him Daddy Sainz,’ you reminded yourself as you entered the passcode on Carlos’ phone and hoped he wasn’t too delusional to get it right. Thankfully it unlocked and you went to his contacts. “Hello, Mr Sainz?”

“Who is this?” he asked worriedly.

“It’s Y/N, I drive for Ferrari in the Academy, uh, Carlos is my Mentor.”

“Where is my son? Why do you have his phone?”

“He’s at the hospital. They’re just taking him into surgery now to remove his appendix.”

The elder Sainz must had put you on speakerphone as you heard the noises at his end increase. “Which hospital? Why are you only calling me now?”

“King Fahad Armed Forces and you’re welcome, by the way, if it wasn’t for me your son would still be curled up on the couch in his room until it burst.”

“He said you had an attitude,” the old man muttered quietly before he resigned himself to a sigh. “Thank you. I’ll be there soon.”

You sent him the ward number that Carlos would be brought through when he was out of surgery and tried to make yourself comfortable on a vinyl chair. It must have been cozy enough as you dozed off, only waking when a nurse tapped your shoulder and smiled sweetly. “Mr Sainz is on his way up now, the operation went well.”

You rubbed your eyes and thanked her as you sat up to see almost two hours had passed. It was then you noticed a pair of brown eyes were watching curiously from across the room.

“Have you been watching me sleep?” you asked as you stretched and cracked your back.

The old man snorted a laugh and put down the almost empty styrofoam cup of black coffee. “You don’t need to wait, I can look after him from here.”

“And ruin my perfect posture for nothing? I’m fine waiting a bit longer.” You stood up and made your way to the percolator jug of black sludge and poured yourself a cup too before pacing the room. “Have you been talking with the other teams yet?”

His eyes followed you back and forth like he was trying to pick your brain apart. “About what?”

“2025. He’s too good for his F1 career to end now.”

The old man stood up too and refilled his cup. “Would you like milk and sugar?” he asked when he noticed your face scrunch at the first sip.

“Just a tiny dash of milk please, no sugar. I like my coffee like I like my men: a little dark and bitter.”

He chuckled and poured a small amount of milk into your cup before returning to his seat. “I can see why my son likes you.”

You spluttered on your mouthful and hurried to swallow the hot liquid. “You must be thinking about someone else. Carlos and I just about have a mutual understanding, and it wouldn’t be a stretch to say he borderline hates me.”

“Can’t be too many female Ferrari drivers that he mentors from the Academy, because I sincerely remember his comment about her,” the old man teased, crossing one leg over the other and staring over the rim of his cup. His eyebrow arched, daring you to correct him until he took the silence with an air of smugness.

Sounds grew along the quiet ward and soon Carlos was wheeled in on a hospital bed, parking into the empty space that had been between the two chairs. Though he looked a little sleepy, Carlos was awake and he smiled dopily from where he lay looking up at you.

“The doctors said your testicle retrieval went well.”

His smile broke with a deep laugh and he turned to look at his amused dad. “I see you met her.”

“I did.” Carlos Senior stood up and kissed his son’s forehead. “I’m glad you had her to take care of you, son. I’ll give you a few moments alone.”

You frowned as his dad left the room, waiting for the door to close quietly behind him. “What the hell were you thinking! Why didn’t you say anything? You could have died!”

Carlos shrugged and shifted carefully to get comfortable on this pillow behind his head. “We don’t exactly have the sort of relationship where we talk about things.”

You huffed and lifted his head, fluffing the pillow before shoving it back into place. “You’re a fucking idiot.”

“Back to the insults, finally.” The sick bastard smiled happily and settled into the pillow with a contented sigh. “For a moment I thought I died and went to heaven.”

“Not funny.”

“Was so, you just care about me too much to laugh. Admit it, you would’ve missed me.” He opened his hand and inched it closer to the edge of the bed.

“They must have given you the strong stuff, you’re clearly delusional,” you said with a roll of your eyes but placed your hand into his palm and he closed his fingers around them. “Your dad seems to think you like me.”

Carlos yawned and closed his eyes, but a smile played on his lips. “That’s probably the beginning of dementia. Don’t get your hopes up.”

“Trust me, I wasn’t,” you chuckled. A few moments of silence filled the room before a soft snore broke the quiet. Careful not to wake him, you kissed his cheek and whispered, “I’m glad you’re okay, Junior.”

“Knew it,” he said as he cracked one eye open and grinned.

You let go of his hand and dropped into your chair with an annoyed huff. “Asshole.”

“Brat.”

#ollie answers #carlos sainz fanfic #carlos sainz imagine #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz x you #carlos sainz smut #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #formula one imagine #formula 1 fanfic #formula one fanfiction #f1 x reader

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toji-girl · 4 months

Note

nanami + cuddle fucking 🥹

I am gripping the arms of my chair thinking about this 😌

tags: 18+ only content - mdni + fem reader + cuddlefucking + fluffy smut + nipple play - prompts

It happens in the early morning before the sun rises, the both of you snoring softly in each other's arms until you turn around and mold the back of you to the front of him could he feel the curve of your ass.

You ground back against him trying to get comfy while getting a rise out of your husband who was awake by now and you were waking up fully aware of what you were doing, his shirt you wore bunched up around your waist putting your bare skin against his.

While sleeping you always opted to wear one of his shirts and nothing else underneath so he could feel the warmth of you pressed against him stirring his cock to life under his boxers.

There are no words needed, the both of you already know what you want and need so Kento is gentle as he lifts your leg up a little while pushing the band of his boxers down until his dick is free.

"Ken."

His heart constricted in his chest at how softly you spoke his name, like a warm whisper in his ear, his eyes softened as he stared at you with a smile while nuzzling his nose into the back of your head.

You moved up a little more feeling the mattress dip and the sheets rustle under you until you felt the hot tip of his cock pressing against your bare pussy that all but drooled, however, Kento liked prep.

He never really wanted to go straight into it no matter how many times you begged him just because you'll die without him inside you and even though that could make him blow his load right then and there he still doesn't and makes you cum at least twice.

His arm that was under you tugged you closer to him drawing you more into his chest as he swirled his finger against your clit before slipping two fingers inside you making you gasp and moan softly.

Your head tilted back as you let him slowly finger you drawing that ball of pleasure until it was tight sitting in your belly threatening to explode as you rocked your hips positioning his cock between your thighs and jerking him off practically with the silk of your flesh.

His free hand slid under the shirt to grab a handful of tit to pull at your nipples until they were stiff peaks, his mouth watered wanting to suck on the soft texture but the way you both were positioned it was impossible and Kento knew that it would have to be a later thing.

When your orgasm was still subsiding he pulled his fingers out and replaced them with the head of his cock that felt hot against you when he thrust halfway in holding you close to him, you could feel his breath fan against the back of your neck as he peppered it with soft slow kisses then to your shoulder nibbling ever so gently.

You both rocked against each other, not really chasing a high just enjoying this intimate dance with your lover, being connected in a sensual way always puts you both in a better mood for the day.

I also think this happens late at night too or even on the couch, especially after a long day? Kento enjoys holding you close to him and sex to him is something that should be treated like a gift.

But don't let that fool you because that man can be downright freaky.

#💌incoming #kento smut #Kento Nanami x reader smut #jjk smut #kento x you smut #kento nanami #kento x reader #kento x y/n #jjk nanami #jujutsu nanami #jjk kento #jujutsu kaisen smut #nanami kento smut #nanami x reader #nanami x you #kento nanami x reader #kento nanami smut

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dyeher · 5 months

Text

warnings| breeding, mentions of pregnancy.

notes| *maniacal laughter* unedited-read at your own risk. also, this would probably be iwa in a rut, if he were an alpha.

It’s the babydoll.

That’s the first clue. It’s a light blue and so incredibly sheer that the matching thong beneath is easily visible through the material. The lacy cups that should be holding your breasts are failing miserably if he’s being honest. He’s not complaining but, he’s confused.

Or he was.

Until the first breathy moan left you as you took your first bite of the cake on your plate. The sound had settled in the bit of Hajime’s stomach and unleashed a hoard of bees. He’s shifted, eyes flirting from the spilling flesh of your breasts to the sinful way your lips wrap around your fork and his brain had begun to melt.

“Uh- what’s the occasion?”

He bites his tongue when you blink lazily at him. If he didn’t know better he would have simply assumed your intentions were pure. But the overly innocent way you’d told him you just wanted to dress up was enough to have him squinting skeptically at you.

“Really?”

You pout and his cock jerks hard, a sudden vision of that perfect pout wrapped around his cock. You nod, shrugging delicately as you continue to devour your cake. Hajime takes a bite of his own dessert, eyeing you warily when you stand to take your plate to the sink. The babydoll flutters around the top of your thighs and Hajime swallows hard when you bend to put your plate in the dishwasher.

A little later when you’re cuddled on your couch together he senses a restlessness about you. It’s in the way you keep shifting against him. Rubbing your breasts against his chest, pressing soft kisses against his chin and jaw and throat. He’s not sure what’s gotten into you but it’s making him nervous. You’ve been horny before but you’ve always been straightforward about it. If Hajime didn’t know better he’d think you were trying to seduce him.

And though Hajime knows he should never look a gift horse in the mouth he’s a little apprehensive. He wants to know why.

So he asks.

And he regrets it immediately.

“I want you to get me pregnant,” you admit.

And yes, Hajime understands now why he should never look a gift horse in the mouth.

He almost asks you if you’re sure but you’re dressed in this slinky little babydoll, draped across his chest, peppering him with little kisses that go straight to his cock. It would be stupid to ask you that. And he’s not opposed to getting you pregnant. Nope.

In fact, the prospect of filling you with his cum sends an unfamiliar—but not unwelcome—surge of arousal through him.

At least, he thinks it’s arousal. He does.

Until he’s folded your thighs onto his shoulder and fucked you both sweaty and sticky and disoriented and you let that first plea out. That first “please give me a baby”. The unfamiliar—but not unwelcome—emotion surges through him again and he realizes it’s not arousal.

It’s something carnal and raw and possibly unidentified in the grand scheme of things but it makes the hairs on his arms and at the back of his neck stand on end. It reduces his cognitive functions to only the ones needed to keep fucking you into the mattress. He can barely speak, can barely think with the sudden overwhelming need to bury himself so deep inside you that you can never be separated again.

You’re squealing and you might be saying something but the roaring in his ears at the hypnotic fluttering of your pussy around his cock is deafening. Hajime is consumed by the sinful sucking of your walls as they coax his orgasm from him. As they wrestle his cum from him.

He cums with an undignified sound that he hopes you have no recollection of. Stars explode behind his eyelids—or maybe stars just explode because he doesn’t know if his eyes are closed or not. He shudders as you cum around him, your nails dig into the muscles in his back and arms, your breasts press against his chest until he realizes you’re trying to tug him closer. Like you’re trying to drag him deeper. He’s fairly certain if he shifts his cock any deeper you’ll end up in the ER. His cock gives one, two, three violent lurches as he cums.

And then his muscles go lax and he fully collapses on top of you, his cock still buried deep enough that he’s fairly certain he’s rammed himself into your honest to god cervix. He should be concerned but from your dopey smile and the way you’re petting his back he’s obviously not done any real damage to your insides. Though he thinks you might not be able to walk for a little bit. Hell he might not be able to walk.

That orgasm was like nothing he’s ever had. He feels as though he’s emptied his soul into your little pussy. Like you’ve reduced him to a breeding bull.

And maybe you have because fifteen minutes later he’s got his hands cupping your hips as he watches, mesmerized, while his cock disappears into your pussy over and over and over, slick from a ridiculous amount of your cum.

And then a little while later he pins you to the floor and fucks you again. And then in the shower. And then in the kitchen; on the counter, against the fridge, on the floor.

“We have to get you nice and full if we want to get pregnant on the first try,” he tells you. It doesn’t even sound like him. Whoever this person is they desecrate every viable surface in your home.

Hajime doesn’t even have the decency to be embarrassed when you have to call in sick for work the next day.

----

#hq: beyablade.#haikyuu smut #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x you #iwaizumi x reader #iwaizumi smut #iwaizumi hajime x reader #iwaizumi hajime x you #iwaizumi fluff #haikyuu

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dex0s · 8 months

Text

IMAGINE!

WARNING! ♫ !dark content ahead! gore(hand getting cut off), abuse, obsession, and miscarriage!♬ (before you get confused reader and the husband gives their semen to a surrogate mother)

⇨ 𝟷𝟶/𝟷𝟻/𝟸𝟹 ⇦ ♡ Wₒᵣd cₒᵤₙₜ ₋ ₆₅₇ ♡

YOUR YANDERE HUSBAND! Have been in marriage for 5 years. And it’s the worst 5 years you ever experienced abuse, forced pregnancy, two miscarriages but that man just wouldn’t stop until he had baby trapped you. And when he finally got a baby he wasn’t satisfied so he tried to force you to have another with a different donor, lucky you got away before anything can happen. Then you finally had your baby a beautiful baby girl, she was an angel compared to your husband and you hope she would stay like that. Now it’s your daughter’s 17th birthday and you hope the birthday gift you will give her will go as planned.

First, the arguing. “You know you should stop spoiling that kid so much when you can’t even do the same for your husband” he said, “why should I? She’s my flesh and bones plus she’s an angel unlike you” you answered back. You can see the redness/anger rising to his face, good now continue too anger him and take it outside. “What happened to the obedient person I married. Why are you so bold right now?” He tried stay calm but you can see him about the explode. “Why don’t we take this outside. I don’t want my angel to hear us fight” as you say that you walk outside because if you didn’t he would’ve said why can’t they talk right there.

Now that you guys right both outside it’s time for the second plan. “Now why come out here when we could just-“ Run to the door and lock it that was second plan but that man had other ideas. Just has you were going to close and lock the door your “husband” in question puts his hand between the door. “OW! You little shit! Once I get you, you better pray to whatever god you worship that I don’t snap that pretty neck of yours” he yelled while trying to push the door open.

As you continue to fight him to shut the door he grabs your hand and you start to scream and panic due to your hand about fall off the door. As you thought of the things he will do to you once the door is open in the corner of your eye. You can see your daughter running right at you closing your eyes only thinking that maybe you wrong about your daughter being a angel-“AAHH!? THE FUCK!” Quickly opening your eyes you see your daughter cutting out your husband hand that is grabbing you or was grabbing you. Your daughter quickly locks the door and you can hear your husband cursing like a hellhound. You quickly shake your hand to get the hand off of you and turn towards your daughter. “Come up we have to go” you grab her hand and run to the back door but also get the keys.

You guys get the the backyard and see your neighbor waving at you to hurry and jump the fence. “Are you okay dear” asked the 40 year-old lady. “Y-yea but do you know where the directions to the church is?” You asked in a hurry “Oh! Just jump over the fence in the far back side of the garage and go straight ahead until you hit a light and you should see it.” She answers and you thank her and take your daughter to the fence and you hear someone you didn’t want to hear at the time. “Where are they”he asked, “what are you talking about sir?” The poor lady answered. “ANSWER THE FUCKING QUESTION” he yells before you jump the fence you can see the lady shaking then after you jumped it you started to run and not looking back but of course your “husband” had to do the final blow. “(Y/N) when I get my hands on you just know that you won’t be my living bride, but my corpse bride”.

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whatsnewalycat · 8 months

Text

what do you need?

Pairing: BratTamer!Joel Miller x Brat!F!Reader

Rating: Explicit (18+ ONLY)

Word Count: 3.7k+

Warnings: no show spoilers, established relationship, non-canon compliant, post-outbreak, smut, swearing, brat “taming”, D/s dynamic, dirty talk, degradation kink, praise kink, pain kink, impact play, collar wearing, maybe might have taken a snippet of dialogue from how the world works by bo burnh@m for horny reasons, unprotected piv sex, crying, shower, overstimulation, choking, spitting in mouth, fluff

A/N: I feel like this story is going to be presented as evidence when I'm rejected from the pearly gates post-mortem. Happy birthday to Joel Miller, sorry your birthday was a huge bummer that one time. Big big smoochies to @frannyzooey for helping me with several things and just generally being awesome.

[ my masterlist ] [ taglist ] [ AO3 ]

You’re having one of those days.

You know.

The kind of day where everything you come into contact with barbs into your flesh and tugs at your nerves.

Noises out on the street too loud, cupboards too empty, coffee too weak, counters too cluttered, shower too cold, clothing too tight—fuck, even your skin feels too fucking tight.

Overstimulated.

Exhausted.

Restless.

You’ve given pieces of yourself out hand over foot, and now you’re at a deficit and the world around you is still hungry, even though you’ve been picked to bare bones. Everything is too much and too little all at the same time.

The toddler that lives in the apartment above yours is throwing a temper tantrum. The kid’s defiant screeching rubs against your brain like fiberglass until all four walls of your living room feel like they’re closing in around you, squeezing you out like a tube of toothpaste, suffocating you.

And you’re thinking: If I don’t release some of this pressure I might go all fucking Hindenburg and explode.

The apartment door swings open, and Joel walks in, his broad shoulders all slumped like he’s carrying the goddamn weight of the word. He glances over at you as he slides the chain lock closed, “Hey, darlin’.”

You look up from your place on the couch, where you’re hunched over crossed legs, elbows digging into your thighs. All sharp angles and tense muscles. Without responding, you return your attention to the glass of moonshine dangling from your grip. Swirl it around a little. Take a big swallow and try not to wince as it burns down to your belly.

Joel stands there for a beat, watching you, waiting for your manners to kick in. When they don’t, he huffs and stomps into the kitchen. Cupboard doors slam and glass clinks as he searches for a clean cup, then pours himself a drink.

And, christ, he’s so fucking loud.

Every noise he makes is an exclamation mark. A shard of glass pressing into your eardrum. A sliver wedging further and further under your fingernail.

He walks over, eyes glued to you, each heavy footfall a stubborn grain of sand that won’t leave that space between your toes no matter how much you wiggle them.

By the time his weight shifts the couch cushions and sets you off balance, tilting in his direction, you know what you need.

You need to get under his skin like he’s under yours. To push him until his edges are hardened and sharp to the touch. You need him to pry open the emergency hatch and empty your mind.

“What’s wrong?”

Your nostrils flare. You bring the cup to your lips and take another big, burning swig of bootleg liquor, then say, “Nothing.”

“Nothin’,” he repeats, his voice low and disbelieving, “Now, why don’t I believe that?”

You sit up and glare at him, meeting his dark eyes, all shadowed by his drooping brow as he tilts his blank stare at you.

Excitement flickers inside you. You tilt your head right back and drop your voice, mocking him, “Reckon it’s ‘cuz I got a fucken attitude.”

His jaw tightens, mouth flattening into a straight line as he narrows his eyes at you, “You gonna talk about what’s got your panties all in a twist, or just be a nuisance about it?”

You bat your eyelashes at him and shrug.

“I see,” he searches your face, turning his wrist in slow circles, moonshine sloshing around in his cup, “You know, if you need me to do somethin’ for you, or… to you, all you have to do is ask. You don’ need to do this whole thing.”

“What thing?” you blink. Play dumb.

His eyes roll a little as he brings the glass to his lips and tips it back. Taking its contents all in one swallow, he slams the glass down on the end table with a thunk. Shaking his head, he looks at you, “Are you fuckin’ done?”

You smirk at him, dragging your eyes up and down his body. He’s studying you with this stern stare, teeth clenched, the muscles in his jaw twitching like little warning signals: PROCEED WITH CAUTION.

A warm fluttering starts at your center. Setting your glass down, you crawl onto his lap. He doesn’t move, doesn’t blink, doesn’t do anything but watch your face as you drag your fingernail along the tightened line of his jaw.

Threading your brows together, you coo, “You’re just so cute when you’re angry.”

“That’s enough,” he grabs your hand and squeezes it hard enough to make you gasp with delight, then says, “Open your mouth.”

“Make me.”

It happens so fast.

One hand on your forehead, the other gripping your jaw, yanking your mouth open.

“Stick your fuckin’ tongue out.”

You do.

You hear it first. The squelch of him gathering moisture. He spits onto your tongue, his saliva moonshine flavored and melting into yours. He does it again, then groans as he rubs it into your tastebuds, the rough pad of his thumb scraping against the tender muscle.

“So, what, you had a shitty day, now you’re actin’ out? Tryin’ to get me all worked up so I punish you?”

The words are all hoarse and heated against your cheek. His cock twitches beneath you and you grind into him, tongue still stretched out.

He spits on it again.

“Is this what you wanted, you little shit? Hmm?” he tugs on your chin, “Do you like it when I spit in your fuckin’ mouth?”

“I like it,” you tell him, nodding, placing your palm on his chest.

His throat rumbles like he’s pleased. He loosens his grip, then brushes his thumb against your bottom lip, glancing down at your mouth, “Do you want more?”

“Yes—yes, please.”

“Much better,” he purrs, “Open.”

You open your mouth wide and stick out your tongue. Another hot wad of spit plops down on it, moonshine flavored, Joel flavored, and you moan.

He cups your cheek and murmurs, “See? You can be a good girl. Can’t you?”

Sparks sizzle up your back bone. You nod and bat your eyelashes at him, closing your mouth and swallowing his spit, sliding your hand through the soft patches of gray in his beard.

His throat rumbles. Dark gaze flicks from your eyes to your lips, ”Now, tell me, darlin’, what do you need?”

The question trickles down the middle of you and twists into a stubborn knot. Your heart flutters when your lips part, but courage dies in your chest.

You shake your head and mutter, mostly to yourself, “It’s stupid.”

His brow furrows just slightly.

Heat blooms in your chest and on your face. Nervous energy makes your throat bob and your tongue go numb, and you shake your head, “Sorry.”

He fully frowns now, searching your face, “Sorry? What for?”

You shake your head again, dropping your gaze, and clamp your mouth shut.

Joel releases a big sigh, curling your body into his, and kisses your forehead. He murmurs against your skin, “Do you trust me?”

“With my life.”

He lets you sit in the wake of your own answer. The weight of his expectant silence wriggles under your skin and makes you squirm. You cast your gaze downward and shrug, “I don’t know.”

He’s quiet.

When you glance back up at him, his expression has softened into one that makes your heart ache. It’s almost doleful, the way he looks at you.

“I don’t know how to explain it, I feel,” you intertwine your fingers with his, “Empty here,” you pull the clasped hands to your chest, “But full… in-in my head. Everything feels like too much—I don’t know, Joel.”

The tears that prick your eyes take you by surprise. Usually you keep these pesky blue feelings to yourself, so as not to burden him. You should be used to this world by now. Your skin should be thicker.

You feel weak.

Pathetic.

Shame rips through you. More tears erupt from deep within your chest and stream down your cheeks, burning the whole way. A rush of adrenaline pumps through your body. It tinges your blood cold and makes you panic.

You let go of his hand and bring your knees to your chest, burying your face between them, blubbering, “I’m sorry.”

“Hey, don’t,” he sighs, not quite sure what to do with this, and slides his warm palm up and down the curve of your back, “It’s—it’s ok.”

All you can do is shake your head. It’s not ok. He doesn’t want someone like this. A crying, sputtering mess. Someone who gets upset because, what, noises seem too loud?

“Look at me, babygirl.”

You can’t help the whimper that bubbles up your throat. He only uses the term of endearment during rare, tender moments. When he needs you to know, really know, that above the games and the rules and the agreements behind the locked door of this apartment… he cares for you.

You sniffle and wipe your tears on the stiff denim of your work pants, then peak up at him.

He searches your face, and says, “Let me take care of you.”

Your eyebrows thread together and your lips part. He just keeps staring at you like that, so earnest, his eyes fertile earth you could take root in.

“Ok,” you whisper.

“Go take a shower. You can be a good girl and do that for me, can’t you?”

“Yes.”

You stay there for a moment, eyes locked on his, and ask, “Can I have a kiss?”

He hums, dropping his gaze to your lips, “How do we ask?”

Heat coils around you. He studies your movements as you unfold yourself and sit up straight, then climb on top of him, knees framing his hips, “Can I have a kiss… please?”

His hands land on your waist, “Course you can.”

You slide your palms up his chest, his neck, to cradle his jaw, then lean in to capture his lips in yours. The kiss is molasses and moonshine. Syrupy and rich. Intoxicating. It warms your insides and leaves you wanting more.

When he pulls back, he smooths his touch around your backside and gives your ass a firm smack, “Go on now.”

You try on his Texas accent and tease, “Go on, git,” and start giggling when he blinks at you, then add, “Ok ok I’m going!”

“You’re lucky you’re cute, y’know that?” he calls after you as you scamper into the bathroom, closing the door behind you.

You pull back the shower curtain, flip on the hot water, and strip off your clothes. The weak stream splatters hot against your skin when you step inside. For a minute, you just stand there with your eyes closed, relishing the warmth.

The bathroom door opens, then closes.

You wash your hair as Joel strips off his clothing into a pile on top of yours. His shadow on the shower curtain grows, then disappears as he pulls it back and steps inside. Your eyes close as you tip your head back into the water stream and massage the conditioner from your hair.

He plants his palm at the small of your back and brings himself closer. A soapy washcloth meets your bellybutton and moves in circular motions, working up a lather. When he hits a weak spot, and a tickle shoots up your body, you giggle and grab his wrist.

“You don’t like it?”

Feeling through your wet hair for any remaining gobs of conditioner, you open your eyes to meet his, grinning, “I do, I’m just ticklish.”

His lips curve into a smirk and he shakes his head as he returns his attention to the task at hand, scrubbing the day’s grime off your body. The hot water works with his meticulous attention to dull the serrated edges under your skin.

“Turn.”

You do, taking a backwards step towards him. Your nerves tingle with want, the snarled tips of them all stretching in his direction, untangling to beckon him closer.

“Good girl,” he murmurs, and starts on your back. Your shoulders relax under his praise. Under the firm pressure of the washcloth scouring your skin. He draws circles down your spine, around your hip, between your legs, leaving a trail of suds for you to rinse off.

When he’s finished sudsing and you’re finished rinsing, he says, “Go wait for me in the bedroom,” so you swap places with him and squeeze the excess water from your body and hair. You step out onto the bath mat and wrap a towel around yourself, then tiptoe into the bedroom.

Across the patchwork quilt, Joel laid out your collar. You dry yourself off and fasten the leather strap around your neck, then wait for him in the middle of the bed with your legs crossed.

When Joel enters the room, it seems to shrink around him. Every inch of him is gleaming and dewy, his hairline all steely gray and combed back into damp, dark waves. He appraises you while tucking a ratty towel around his waist. You feel your shoulders pull back. Your spine uncurls, pointing straight at the ceiling.

His eyes flick around the room as he walks to the side of the bed and hooks a finger in the little loop of your collar, tugging you to your knees. You crawl to him, following his firm guidance until you’re eye-to-eye and just an inch or so apart.

Under the squeaky-clean soap scent lies something so unmistakably Joel. Woodsy and masculine, it cattle-prods your heart.

“What am I gonna do with you?”

Heat sparks from deep within you and blooms in your guts, your cheeks. You feel yourself arching towards him, leaning closer, trying to taste his breath.

Some smart-aleck answer parts your lips, but he preemptively interrupts you.

“Rhetorical question.”

An amused smile twitches the corners of his mouth.

His mouth.

You stare at it, fingertips buzzing with energy, yearning to feel the soft curve of his plush lips.

“Look at me.”

Your eyes flick to his, smoldering but critical. A wide, calloused palm lands on your waist and slides around to your backside, cupping the heft of your asscheek. You swallow hard. This thick, pulsing ache starts between your legs and makes you whimper. An attestation to your pliancy.

His throat rumbles and he pulls a sharp breath through his teeth. Joel likes the noise, because he knows what it means. It means you’re putty in his hands. Giving yourself over to him, letting him take control. He digs his fingers into the tender flesh of your ass and smirks when you gasp.

“That’s what you need, hmm?”

You nod, eyebrows drawing together, batting your lashes at him.

He doesn’t let up. Quite the opposite, actually, he grips you harder, rumbling out, “Jus’ need someone to take care of you? Fuck the angry out of you?”

Again, you nod.

He tugs on your collar, “Use your words.”

The grasp is bruising and constant and fucking delicious. Dropping your gaze, you breathe, “Yes si—”

“Look at me.”

Your cunt clenches around nothing as you comply, meeting his lust-blown eyes.

“Yes sir.”

“That’s better.”

Joel releases your ass cheek and tugs at your collar.

When his lips meet yours with a firm, ravenous kiss, urgency overcomes you. You clamber closer, hooking your hands behind his neck, dragging your nails through his damp curls. Each time the kiss renews, it gains traction, intensity, evident in his nips and groans, and his harsh, wandering touch. Grabbing your ass, your tits, your thighs. Pinching your nipples so hard you gasp and nod.

He buries his fist in your hair and pulls back, panting, “Turn around ‘n’ bend over.”

You do, reluctantly parting from his lips to spin 180° and raise your ass in the air, pressing your ear to the mattress.

“Close your eyes,” he knocks your knees further apart, and when you comply, letting your eyelids flutter closed, he murmurs, “That’s it. Now you’re gonna sit there and take what I give you, hmm?”

The rough pads of his fingers trail electric up your seam, ghosting along the hungry, aching nerves. You gasp and nod, “Yes sir.”

His throat rumbles, and his fingertips start to work your throbbing clit in hard-pressed circles. He’s heavy-handed in the way he touches you. It’s not delicate, or teasing, or gentle—it’s fucking perfect. Heat bubbles up your middle and spreads across your skin, pulling a whimper from your throat.

Joel’s free hand slides up your spine, his palm pressing firm and slow across every vertebrae, coaxing you to stretch your backbone, arching your hips towards him.

“There we go, that’s my good girl—”

You moan at the rush of pleasure his praise gives you. Your heart starts to thud, heavy and thick in your chest, and his hand between your legs starts to work you faster, jolting your center.

“Fuck, Joel—”

Another gravelly sound surfaces from his chest. He slaps your ass, hard and firm, and you gasp at the sharp sting. He does it again. The smack rings in your ears and the divine pain it’s coupled with resonates deep in your bones. He does it again and again and again, all the while rubbing your clit in vigorous, tight circles, growling out, “All fuckin’ wound up, acting out, this is what you needed, hmm?”

“Yes yes yes yes—”

The feeling at your center grows and spreads, building building building—then it swallows you whole. Your body convulses with pleasure so acute and overwhelming, you try to pull away from him, to close his hand between your thighs, but he grabs your hip and kneels on your calf, keeping you spread open.

“Don’t you run away from this,” he barks as you let out a choked sob, “You take this fucking like a good girl, you hear me?”

“It’s—fuck, it’s it’s—”

You want to tell him it’s too much, but the tide of pleasure draws you back with violent force and washes over you again. The noise that comes out of you is guttural, barely human, this half-howl, half-cry. It’s excruciating and overwhelming and so fucking good.

Joel chuckles, “That’s it, let it go, darlin’.”

You do. A sensation overtakes you, that’s warm and secure. The weight strapped to your shoulders, that skin-too-tight, noises-too-loud sort of feeling melts away and you nod, “Yes, sir.”

He withdraws his hand from between your legs and grabs your waist, bringing your bodies closer. The head of his cock nudges against your entrance and he plunges forward.

“Fuuuuuuuck,” you gasp as his thick, throbbing length slides into your well-lubricated cunt.

He splits you open cell-by-cell, his own needy moan mingling with yours, and tells you, “God, your pussy—fuck, that’s good—”

There’s no warm-up period. No sweet, slow strokes, or whispered words of comfort, or gentle anything. Immediately, he’s fucking you hard and fast. You push back against his harsh thrusts, each impact devastating and intoxicating and heady with a feral energy that fills your body with static.

Joel closes a fist in your hair and yanks, tilting your head to the ceiling, and you let out a long, sick moan that makes him groan with delight. His arm slips around you and pulls your back to his chest. Your head falls back on his shoulder, mouth gaping open to babble out, “So fucking good, fuck fuck fuck—I fucking love it, Joel, holy fuck—”

His big hand wraps around your throat and squeezes, restricting your airflow, and you let out wheezing, gasping breathes as he grunts in your ear, “Yeah you fucking do. Pussy jus’ needs a good pounding, that it? My little slut just needs to get fucked, hmm?”

You whimper and nod, as much as his grip will allow. His fingers crush your pulse, leaving you light-headed. The scraps of breath you manage to take in carry the sharp, tangy scent of sex. You revel in the feeling of him filling you over and over, each roll of his hips collects electric at your core, gaining traction and energy.

When you look up at him and meet the corner of his dark, lust-blown eyes, he releases his grip on your throat and pulls you into a heated kiss. Both of you start to take in short, frantic breaths, passing soft moans back and forth. That gooey static in your middle grows and grows. Your limbs start to quiver and you cry, “Oh my fucking god, Joel—you’re gonna make me come—”

“That’s it, babygirl, let it go.”

You do.

You let it consume you, a bright, blissful warmth that pulses through every inch of your body. Joel moans as your cunt clenches down around him, then pulls out in time to shoot his load onto the bedspread.

For a moment, the only things in existence are the two of you. His ragged breath in your ear, your heaving chests and empty minds.

He departs your body and stretches out on the bed with a groan. You only feel his absence for a second before he hooks his finger into your collar’s loop to pull you closer, “C’mere.”

An obedient creature, for the time being at least, you follow the suggestion and curl up at his side. You smooth your palm up his heated chest, all dewy with sweat, and admire his broad frame. His distinguished features. While surveying the map of scars and wrinkles and grays on his rugged exterior, your gaze meets his, and you find a remarkable softness there.

He seems to study you with the same sort of reverence as you do him.

“You’re beautiful, y’know that?”

It makes you smile, which, in turn, makes him smile. A gorgeous and rare spectacle. The expression carves out a dimple in his cheek and crinkles the corners of his eyes.

You scoot closer and kiss him, your lips soft, gentle. He kisses you back in a similar manner, slow and sweet, twisting your brain in a big, beautiful kaleidoscope of emotions.

The intimidation you felt when you met him, still hot-to-the-touch after all these years, tumbling around with tiny glimmering glass bits of desire and apprehension and pride and excitement and awe and dread and security.

And love.

Of course love, even though neither of you dare look at it directly. Only suckers allow such a thing to exist in this world. But it’s there, nonetheless. Weaving its way through each fragmented shard, pulling it all together.

#pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal #joel miller #joel tlou #joel the last of us #joel x reader #joel x you #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #tlou fanfiction #joel miller smut #pedro pascal character fanfic #pedro pascal fanfiction #brat tamer joel miller #the last of us fanfiction #whatsnewalycat writes

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itsmealaiah · 1 month

Text

"lie with me"

TW: use of toys, profanity, p in v sex, abstinence, AFAB reader, she/her pronouns, fingering, minor degrading, rough bill

Request: Bb, can you make a sex story where y/n was masterbating (fingering 3 fingers with a vibrator on her clit) and bill comes in and helps her and fucks her guts out>ᴗ<

an actual well thought out fic? no wayyy

Rating: mature themes ahead, explicit content, mdni

WC: 0.7k

"Oh fuck!" you moaned, the sound echoing throughout the house. You slipped a finger in, warming up your hole and added another, gushing noises now expelling from your soft pussy. You attempted to slip a third in, wincing at how it stretched you out, but you soon adjusted. The feeling was blissful, however your fingers couldn't quite hit your spot like bill did, making you miss him even more. It had been months of him being away and you were lonely without him. Using your free hand, you turned on the vibrator, setting it to a mid-setting so it wouldn't be too rough on your clit, and placed the toy on your flesh. Your eyes began to reel from the pleasure, the toy working its magic.

Just as you were about to climax, you heard a faint click of the door opening. You froze, hoping it was just the wind, but then you heard footsteps coming up the stairs. Your heart raced, excitement and fear mixing into a cocktail of emotions. You quickly moved your hand, hiding the evidence of your pleasure, and closed your legs, your breath coming out in short, shallow gasps. You turned the lamp off, no light coming from the room now. you hid the toy and pretended you were asleep.

You heard footsteps approach the doorway, the light from the hallway flickering across your face. You squeezed your eyes shut, praying that it was all just a dream. But then you felt his familiar weight press against the bed, and you knew it was really him. His hand traveled up your thigh, his fingers brushing against your pussy, already slick with your arousal. "You missed me, didn't you?" he whispered, his voice rough with desire.

You couldn't speak, could only nod pathetically as he pushed his fingers deeper inside you, stretching you further than you thought possible. His touch was like fire, burning through you, and yet you couldn't get enough. You arched your back, moaning into the pillow as he thrust his fingers in and out, finding your aching spot over and over again.

"Fuck, baby," he growled, "I've been thinking about this for months." He moved to kneel between your legs, his hard cock pressing against your entrance, wet with your desire. "You want this?" he asked, his voice hoarse. You nodded frantically, unable to form any words as he pushed inside you, filling you up completely. "Oh fuck," you gasped as he began to move, each thrust sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body. You wrapped your legs around him, holding him close as he fucked you harder and harder, claiming you as his own.

Your back arched off the bed, your fingers digging into the sheets as the sensation built inside you. You could feel him deep inside you, his movements sending sparks of desire straight to your core. Your hips began to move in rhythm with his, meeting each thrust with a moan, your body urging him to go deeper, faster. You could feel the familiar tightness building in your lower stomach, the tingling in your core spreading outwards, telling you that you were close, so close to release.

Bill reached down and grabbed your hair roughly, pulling your head back as he thrust harder still. His hips slammed into you, his cock hitting that perfect spot inside you every time. You cried out, your orgasm exploding around you, waves of pleasure crashing over you in a blinding rush. Your pussy clenched tightly around him, milking his cock as he emptied himself inside you, filling you up completely.

You lay there, panting heavily, your chest heaving as you tried to catch your breath. Bill collapsed on top of you, sweaty bodies sticking together. He rolled off you, laying beside you, his hand trailing up and down your arm, his fingers gentle and reassuring. You smiled up at him, feeling a wave of contentment wash over you. "I missed you so much," you whispered, your voice still ragged from your earlier cries.

He smiled down at you, his eyes twinkling in the dim light. "I missed you too, baby. I'm sorry it took me so long to get back, but I'm here now." His words sent a shiver through you, a warmth spreading from your core outwards. You nestled closer to him, burying your face in his neck, inhaling his familiar scent.

Taglist: @madzandmore @20doozers @charliesgoodboy @tomscumdump @tomssexdoll @billslittlewhore

Requests are open! keep sending them in 🤍

#tokio hotel #tokio hotel x reader #tokio hotel x you #bill kaulitz #bill kaulitz x reader #bill kaulitz fanfic #bill #bill kaulitz smut #bill kaulitz x reader smut #bill kaulitz x you #billskeis #itsmealaiah

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taggedmemes · 4 months

Text

SENTENCE MEME BALDUR'S GATE 3 / PART SIX

leave us in peace and we shall leave you in kind.

cut the crap.

we just want to go home.

enough of this charade.

i'll not play pretend anymore.

you'll soon learn what it means to ally yourself with the likes of this garbage.

i'm free now, and i'm never going back.

fuck them.

felt good letting off a little steam.

if i burn any hotter, i might explode.

don't get too close until i've found a way to calm down.

it's a bit early to be getting into tragic backstories.

let's save the scar-show for later after we've worked up an appetite for tragedy.

in the grand scheme of things, i'm inconsequential [to her].

she favored me like a child favors a captive pet.

it had the makings of a good stage show, but i did not want to be one of the players.

torture, bloodsport? or perhaps just a good old-fashioned walloping?

you owe me nothing.

i could extort you, if that's what you want.

you're teasing me now.

ignorance is alive and well it seems.

don't make me get the wooden spoon.

you'd best have one hells of an apology for me.

if you think your precious little god holds any power here, you're in for a surprise.

do you treat all your guests so poorly?

i don't like busybodies.

you are as thick as they come.

are you telling me you made love to a goddess?

i shared a bed with a goddess and yet i wasn't satisfied.

shall i share the story behind it or would you rather head straight to its sordid finale?

how are you still alive?

we've come this far together and we'll continue on together.

even i am tired of the sound of my own voice.

i'll rip your spine out of your asshole.

i'll use your blood to spice my stew.

i'll keep you alive until i've sucked the marrow from your bones.

killing me is a waste of time.

you bastard, you ruined everything.

this is an interesting way of thanking me.

a slap is all you deserve.

a hag was never going to help you.

they don't help anyone but themselves.

that double-crossing, filthy, lying hag.

focus on the positive.

forgive the aroma.

perhaps that is why i have survived so long where more fearsome peers have not.

your loyalty is admirable but misplaced.

his kind have charm beyond our mortal means to resist.

who'd keep a secret like that from his friends?

you can't trust anyone these days.

even in the middle of nowhere, he can reach me.

why do you insist on exhuming the past?

people think the biggest threat to a vampire is a cleric with a stake.

they're scheming, paranoid, power-hungry beasts.

i am what i must be, says what i must be.

how does it feel to be a devil?

i can't tell if you're being silly or serious.

you have to admire the man's ambition.

i promise i will not betray your trust.

you kept me by your side despite the menace i am.

i learned quick how to stay alive.

to feel invincible again.

this isn't where i thought i'd end up.

maybe when this is all done, you can show me where you came from.

i'm not normally one to begrudge someone their secrets, but..

i'm already blessed to have you at my side.

don't you cut a fine figure.

i am not some lower city coinlad offering you a tumble.

there is nothing so depressing as learning one's true value.

i could use someone with your skills.

they're ravenous predators with fangs like daggers.

it's hardly an irrational fear to harbor.

you've been decent to me, so far.

everyone's got their own fears.

maybe that's what i like about you.

all of this was for nothing.

if you're here to help, get to the fight quickly.

gods, i thought you were one of those beasts.

i'm not chasing after it, if that's what you're thinking.

the little beast's charming once you get accustomed to the smell of rotting flesh.

#sentence meme #rp meme #sentence starters #roleplay meme #starter sentences #rp starters #rpc #starter meme #sentence prompts #sentence prompt #rp prompts #roleplay prompts #writing prompt #bg3 meme

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mrvlbimbo · 2 years

Note

AHHH EDDIE MUNSON LITERALLY OWNS ME HOLY FUCK

this is a request btw but if you dont wanna this could easily just be us geeking abt this beautiful man

okok sO y/ns like this good girl teachers pet-- pleated skirts and mary janes and all-- with straight a's and she's sent to tutor eddie bc man is failing with a capital F so they're studying in her pink room with a bunch of awesome stuffies (in my head a lot of them are dragons and gargoyles and eddie's nerdy lil heart fricken explodes but this is just me being stupid in love) and he has full intention to do absolutely zERO work

(corruption kink and dom!eddie if you couldn't tell by now jdjjd)

and the whole time he's just teasing her (cough degrading her cough) and flirting with her (cO U G H praising her ahem) and- oops now they're fucking *acts shocked*

fin

(also i'm 19 minors pls away away *sprays you with water*)

oh gosh. This is filth, genuinely. I don't know how I wrote this with a straight face. I need to go to confession or smthn.

content: innocence kink, unprotected sex, creampie, improper use of a study date, I literally never know what to put in this part, not proofread bc I'm lazy

Eddie paced around the delightfully pink room, taking note of how the frilly edge of the bedspread matched the girl spread out on top of it to a tee.

In his dreams this is exactly how her room looked, sans the adorable stuffed animals that even he couldn’t have conjured up in his imagination. He plucked one off the bed, inspecting it carefully as if it were some precious item. "Your room is uh...cute,” he commented.

“Oh jeez. I mean to put those away before you got here.” She shook her head and her bottom lip between her teeth, coaxing the stuffed animal out of his hand and carefully setting it back on the bed.

“I think they’re cute. Didn’t take you for a bat girl though,” he teased, gesturing to her large collection of unorthodox stuffed animals. It was made up of mostly bats, with a few dragons and other miscellaneous fantasy creatures.

“Oh yeah. I wanted to rip the head off of one of them, ya know as a reference to Ozzy Osborne, but my mom said it was too vulgar.”

"You're cute too,” he said confidently. She had noticed the way she looked at him in class and when their teacher paired them together to help get his grade up, he knew it was his chance to make a move.

"Hm?” She hummed.

“You’re cute too. Like the bats.” His voice pitched slightly, still unsure of his actions. She sat on the edge of her bed, blinking up at him with wide sparkling eyes.

She shook her head, looking away and hiding the shy smile on her face. “Oh. I don’t think-“

“Aw. Why are you getting shy on me now?” he teased, cupping her face. His thumb brushed over her lip, pushing its way into her mouth when her lips gaped slightly.

“Mmmm,” she whined around his finger, looking up at him though her fluttering lashes with an innocent and confused gaze.

“Lookit you. All innocent and yet you’re sucking my finger like a-"

She tongued his finger out of her mouth, pushing it away harshly and whining the residual drool off her face. “Eddie. We need to study," she warned.

“Alright, baby. Whatever you want. How about you sit on my lap so we can focus on each other better?” He sat in her bed, back against her headboard. He waited comfortably for her answer.

“O-ok.” She hesitantly straddled his lap, knees shaking to hold her a respectable distance above him.

He gripped her waist, tugging her hips down to meet his so she was resting more comfortably on his lap. “So. Tell me about the Pythagorean theorum.”

“Basically…” She droned on about the sides of a triangle and how they all related to each other. Her voice stuttered slightly when his hands fell from her waist down to her thighs, pushing up her skirt and digging his fingers into the flesh of her legs.

“Mhm, keep going. Did I say you could stop?” he asked, his voice innocent enough but he was clearly mocking her.

“Why is your lap so hard?” She questioned, hips stuttering and involuntarily rubbing against him.

“Because someone is soaking right though their panties onto my cock,” he chastised, running two fingers over the seam of her and feeling the wetness seep through.

“I didn’t mean-“ she started to apologize but she was quickly interrupted.

"If you're gonna get them all wet, you don't really need them do you?" he asked, hooking his fingers into the band and tugging it back. The fabric snapped back against her skin, causing a whimper to leave her lips.

"Uh, no. I guess not," she replied slowly. Before she could finish he was already prying the underwear off her body, gently sliding them down her legs.

She whined when she pressed her uncovered cunt back to the denim of his jeans. His arms wrapped around her waist, pressing her tightly to him but stilling any motion she could have made with her hips.

“Aw, none of that. Do you want me to help?” He asked, slipping one hand down to grip her ass and squeeze.

“You’re gonna make me feel better?” she whimpered, a pleading look in her eyes.

He could already feel her wetness dripping onto his lap, easily sliding two fingers into her. “Yeah. I’m gonna make you feel so good," he cooed, curling them against her walls. A smooth metal ring bumped against her clit, sending a shiver though her body.

He teased his fingers in and out of her, revealing in the way her body shook violently against him. "Pleeeease," she whined, grinding herself down on his digits when he stopped moving.

"This isn't enough for your greedy pussy?" She didn't respond, instead wailing against the skin of his neck, drool dripping from her mouth against him.

"More." She rolled her hips, seeking out friction from his unmoving fingers.

"Alright. Alright." He slipped his fingers out, making quick work of unzipping his pants and tugging his boxers over his hard cock. The appendage slapped against his stomach, angry reddened tip already leaking with pre-cum.

"Oh. It's pink!" she yelped, fingers ghosting over the shaft as she examined it.

"Y-yep," he gasped when she wrapped her fingers around it finally.

She giggled when it twitched against her soft palm, lazily jerking him off and watching the way he reacted.

"You want me to put it in?" he asked, peeling her fingers away and replacing them with his own.

She nodded, lifting her hips so he could run the head of him against the silky wet folds of her cunt. He rubbed the tip around her bundle of nerves, giving an adequate amount of time for her to get desperate.

Finally he settled inside her, bottoming out with only a little pain. He stayed still for a moment, letting her get used to the stretch. By the time he started to gently thrust his hips, her pussy was already drooling around him.

Her legs were shaking, doing no favors In helping her fuck herself on his cock. His hips thrusting up into her were doing most of the work along with his hands cupping her waist and sliding her over him like a pocket pussy.

It was only minutes before she was spasming around him, one hand tangled in his hair while the other was clawing at the neck of his shirt.

"S'good," he slurred, cum spilling inside of her at the same time as she convulsed in pleasure.

"mmmMMm," she moaned, slumping against him, exhausted and drowsy.

"Was that good?" he asked, far too shy for their current situation. Both of their laps were sopping with their combined fluids before he even pulled out.

"Yeah," she murmured, nuzzling her head against his chest affectionally.

"I still don't know the pythagorean theorem," he joked, giving her a little kiss on the forehead. A bit of affection exchanged before he got up to clean them both off.

taglist here:

@angelsarecallin @sebby-staan @niviiera @chaoticgurl @evqans @slut-for-matt-murdock @multihaven @tinyboxxtink @hold-our-destiny @weh-heh-heh @battiebabe216 @captain-satan @avril-reblog-cave @dragon-ash13 @stxvercgersslut @fangirl199812 @variety-fangirl @buckybeefybarnes @strangerthings64 @baddestbiddiesonly

(lmk if you want to be added)

#eddie munson stranger things #stranger things season 4 #stranger things #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson smut #eddie stranger things #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fluff

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cheolhub · 2 years

Text

SUNDRESS! ⌇KIM NAMJOON ࿐

— PROMPT: in which joon fucks you in your brand new sundress because to him, the only thing better than you… is you in a sundress practically begging for him.

— PAIRING: namjoon x f!reader

— GENRE: established relationship, smut (minors dni)

— WORD COUNT: 2.45k

— WARNINGS: daddy kink, unprotected sex, creampie (yum), heavy praise, body worship, big!dick joon, size kink, reader is HORNY AF

— A.NOTE: HI!!! so if u saw the first version, im so sorry LOL… im not good at using this app 😭 but here it is (again), if you cant see some of the words, PLEASE LET ME KNOW!!

namjoon loves dresses. it’s not just any dress that he loves, though, but sundresses. specifically, sundresses on you. the ones that are tight around your chest with its fabric digging into the flesh of your soft breasts. the ones that are flowy at the end and show him your cute panties every time you spin a little too fast or you bend over to pick something up. the ones that he wants to rip off your body, to watch your tits spill and your face turn beet red.

he keeps his admiration subtle, though. he is a gentleman after all.

with his subtlety, you never realize how hard joon gets when he sees you in a sundress. he ogles you with wide eyes every time your head is turned and sometimes he tries to look under your dress to see your panty-clad pussy. one time in particular, he took a peek and saw your bare cunt and had to excuse himself because he thought he was going to explode if he was within 5 feet of you. you’re just so oblivious, though.

but today, you peek your head around the corner in your brand new dress to see your handsome boyfriend reading a book on the couch, hair messy yet still undeniably perfect. you feel giddy, your stomach fluttering and panties dampening just at the sight of him.

“psst!” you whisper trying to catch his attention, but he seems to be deeply invested in his book so you call for him instead. “joonie!” you say in a hushed whisper.

a smile creeps onto his face and he hums, eyes still following the words in his novel. “need somethin’ baby?”

you come from behind the corner, standing in front of him, bottom lip lodged between your teeth as you wait for him to look at you. “do you like it?” you ask meekly with doe eyes ready to bore into his.

when namjoon looks up, he doesn’t expect to see you standing in front of him, tits pushed up unable to breathe with the confining fabric of your brand new sundress. he notices how the dress stops midthigh and how it's tight around your waist and how fucking perfect you look. he imagines how much more perfect you would look with the dress pushed up and his cock pounding you into the couch, but he has to refrain before he cums in his sweats.

you take his silence as an act of disapproval and feel your mood falter. he soon realizes he still hasn’t said anything till he hears your voice, its tone being a stark contrast from a few seconds prior. “i guess you don’t like it… i think i can still return it,” you trail off, lips etched into a deep pout as your eyes fall to the plain white socks on your feet.

he quickly snaps his head up from your body to look up at you, “uh-uh, look at me, baby,” he says, watching your eyes move up to look at him. he takes ahold of your hands, intertwining his fingers into yours, “you look fuckin’ gorgeous, angel… you just caught me off guard, that’s all,” he reassures. “so pretty for me…” he mumbles, eyes raking over your body all over again.

you squeeze your thighs together as his words and deep gaze shoot straight to your core making you let out a shaky exhale, “all for you…” you reiterate like it’s a statement, which in this case, it is. it’s the cold hard truth because there’s no one else that makes you feel the way that kim namjoon does.

he feels his cock twitch in his sweats and notices the way you shift your weight. his eyes darken, pulling you closer to him, “promise?” he murmurs, looking up at you.

you feel the dull ache from earlier in the pit of your stomach growing stronger. you need to feel him. you take a chance, straddling his lap, blushing softly when you feel his large bulge digging into your soaked, bare pussy. “promise, ‘m all yours, daddy…”

namjoon swears he could cum in this instance. the feeling of his baby’s slutty pussy dripping all over his grey sweats? he’s in heaven and he’ll have to remember to thank the gods for this later. his mouth opens to say something about your lack of underwear and the taboo nickname, but he’s interrupted by a strangled groan when you start grinding into him.

you gasp, dreamily, getting even wetter at the feeling of his cock growing harder against your cunt. “daddy,” you whimper. “fuck, m’ so wet, you make me so wet,” you ramble rutting against him at a desperate pace.

fuck it, joon thinks to himself. he groans, moving his hands to your waist to guide you, “yeah, baby? daddy’s got you all messed up down here?” he asks, eyeing how the wet spot on his crotch begins to grow with your arousal.

you nod, eyes sealed shut with your head filling with pleasure.

“you’ve got me all messed up, too,” he hums with a smirk, “every fuckin’ time you put on a dress, i just wanna rip it off you and fuck you so bad,” he admits mindlessly, gripping your waist even harder. “you’re always so pretty, angel, my pretty fuckin’ girl,”

you moan at the thought of all the times you had unconsciously teased him with your little dresses. your stomach flips at his words once again, “fuck me,” you whine, opening your eyes again. you rest your forehead against his, breath fanning against his face as you whisper, “want you to fuck me, joon, wan’ your cock in me– need you in me,”

before he gives his brain a chance to short circuit, he flips you over into the couch at the speed of lightning. his hands move to your tits, roughly pulling the fabric down watching them pop out. he moans softly, taking a second to admire how beautiful they are before he places open-mouthed kisses over them. his mouth quickly catches one of your nipples, rolling his tongue over the hardened bud, biting and sucking as if he were a starved man. he hears your whimpers and repeats his actions with the other, moving his hand to massage your tit.

you arch your back and cry loudly when he bites your nipple a little too hard, “hngh!” he releases, apologizing for his eagerness with gentle eyes. you pout at how much wetter you’ve gotten since his attack on your breasts. “wan’ it now, please!”

namjoon nods fervently, “anything you want, pretty girl,” he mumbles, leaning in to kiss your lips with passion and genuine love, yet it’s sloppy— teeth clashing and tongues tangling with one another. you moan into the kiss, wrapping your arms around his neck before he pulls away a minute later, a string of spit leaving you tethered to one another for a moment longer.

he pulls his ruined sweats down far enough for his cock to spring out and slap against his clothed abdomen. staring at how hard he is, you realize you can only ever think about how huge his cock is. and how gorgeous it is with its prominent veins and blushy tip that leaks the sweetest of precum. and how he always fucks you so good with it– how he fucks you till you’re wrecked. nothing but a beautiful, babbling mess of cum, drool and sweat, but you both fucking love it.

your pussy clenches over nothing, the sight of his cock being too hot to handle. you feel your arousal drip down your ass, soaking the dress and probably even the cushion of the couch. neither of you could care less when you’re starving for each other.

namjoon wraps his hand around his throbbing member, stroking up and down, “you want it, baby?” you nod, spreading your legs to put your pussy on display for him. he sucks his teeth, shaking his head at your lack of response, “you gotta tell me how bad you want it,”

you huff flipping your dress up and pulling your knees to your chest and you notice his eyes zero in on your sopping cunt and your desperate hole that’s literally aching to be stuffed. “oh, please!” you cry, eyes welling with tears of need. “wan’ it bad, you always fuck me so good, so so good! wan’ your big cock in me, daddy, promise i can take it,”

he sucks in a sharp breath, dick twitching and on the verge of cumming everywhere, but he loses it when he hears those words tumble out of your mouth oh-so needily.

“please, i wanna feel all your cum inside me!”

he grunts, aligning his cock with your drooling hole before slowly inching in. he can barely hear your mewling with the ringing sound in his ear being so loud. the way your sticky walls invite him in and wrap around him so tightly has him seeing red. namjoon drowns in pride knowing he molded your pussy to the shape of his cock and his only.

immediately, you wrap your legs around him, heels digging into his back to push him into you further, but to also hold you steady.

“fuck!” he grunts, throwing his head back as he bottoms out. “this pussy was fuckin’ made for me, ain’t that right, beautiful?” he looks down at you to see your eyes screwed shut and your mouth wide open, yet you still nod your head feverishly. “all mine, yeah?”

“yours, always yours,” you cry, still nodding your head.

he hums in delight before inching out of your tight grip and slamming back in making you scream in a mix of pain and pleasure. your arms instinctively wrap around his neck, holding his body close while he pushes the dress up, having the soft, cotton fabric bunch up all together under your tits.

you cry softly and tilt your head back when you feel the head of cock brush against your sweet spot. you pant out a soft, “r-right there,” with your eyes threatening to roll back.

you feel him push you deeper into the couch, his mind lost in pleasure with how your face is scrunched up in pleasure and your high pitched moans filling the once quiet living room. his length glides in and out of your ruined cunt, his skin slapping against yours— another delectable sound he can’t help but love.

“pretty fuckin’ baby,” he grunts, hand sliding over your abdomen and pushing down softly. the pressure of his hand makes your back arch into him. “can you feel me here?”

you gasp, breathing labored, “hah! yes! s’ deep, daddy, soso big,” you whine, clenching tightly around him.

you swear you see the light with his words and the way his cock keeps bumping your cervix, but his splayed hand slides down and his thumb finds your hardened clit and rubs sweet circles into you.

“j-joon!” you squeal, the action sending lightning cracks through your body. “m’ gonna— hah! gonna cum!” you feel a knot in your stomach tightening as your impending orgasm approaches quickly.

he revels in how your cunt clamps tightly around him, sucking him in even more. “soak my fuckin’ cock then, baby, you can do it,” he mutters, his thumb on your swollen bud working faster. “make me proud,”

a mantra of his name leaves your mouth as you cream his cock, just as he asked you to do. your eyes definitely roll back this time as you let out a loud moan and your pussy grips him like a vice. the knot unravels at your disposal with the help of his words and your need to please him. your back arches even more and tears of pleasure slip from your eyes.

he can’t even help but moan, leaning in to kiss your lips roughly. the way his cock twitches uncontrollably inside of you signals he’s close, like watching you cum made him even harder, so he pounds into you even more. the head of his cock consistently kissing your sweet spot with every impressive stroke. the sound of your arousal soaked skin connecting and disconnecting at a rapid speed mixing with your muffled, joint moans.

“s’ too much!” you cry once he breaks this kiss again.

namjoon nods knowingly, “i know, baby,” he grunts. “such good girl for me, fuck, m’ almost there,” he mumbles against your lips. “take it for me, i know you can,”

you nod obediently, your overstimulated cunt weakly clamps around him again at the praise.“c-cum inside,” you whine.

he groans again, louder this time, “gonna fill my pretty girl’s filthy cunt full of my cum, that’s what you want?” he asks, words slurring a bit as his head spins. “you wanna leak my cum, baby?”

your brain’s gone haywire with his vulgar words and ruthless pace, yet you still find the sanity to reply with your own slurred words, “pleaseeee, daddy, pretty please!”

he lets out a cracked moan, burying his face into the crook of your neck. his hips stutter till his body stills at the hilt. he moans again, louder this time when his hot load spills, painting your battered walls white. he nearly collapses on you, your name slipping out if his mouth in shuddered breaths as he comes down from his euphoric high.

you both spend a few minutes basking in the warmth of each other, soft sighs and moans exiting your lips and his, too. he soon wordlessly pulls out, shushing you sweetly when you whine at the sudden emptiness. his eyes look down at the mess you two had created, cursing in his mind as he watches his cum flood out of you. he fights the urge to shove it all back inside of you for “safekeeping,” but ultimately decides against it for both of your sakes.

instead, he pulls his sweats back up and runs to grab wet cloth to clean you up with.

when he comes back, you look at him with glazed over eyes and a lopsided smile. he smiles at you, eyes crinkling. he cleans you up, murmuring soft praises and placing tiny kisses over you.

“did so well for me, love,” he whispers once he’s done, pulling the culprit dress down and covering you up again. he peppers your face with kisses and words of affirmation.

you hum, basking in the afterglow, “so… i guess you don’t want me to return the dress?” it’s a joke, but seeing namjoon back away from your face and his lips pressed into a straight line only makes you giggle.

“you’re keeping it… in fact, let’s go buy you a hundred more, yeah?”

#bts smut #bts x reader #namjoon oneshot #namjoon x reader #namjoon smut #kim namjoon smut

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animasola86 · 6 months

Text

Smutmas: A bloody mess

Pairing: Sebastian Sallow x f!reader

Genre: Smut/Gore // Words: 1.7k // [Read on AO3!]

Warnings: NSFW! MDNI! Explicit sexual content! Blood kink! Period sex! Murder! (Killing poachers is not frowned upon!)

Synopsis: Diffindo is your favorite spell and all the poachers know about it, well, no, they are all dead. But you don't care, you'd rather engage in a blood covered quickie with your boyfriend.

Last warning: It is getting really messy (and gory and vulgar and filthy), you have been warned!

A bloody mess

You're a mess, inside and out, everything hurts, you're covered in blood from various sources and despite it all you have never felt more alive. Your voice echoes through the empty camp, the crate you're sitting on creaks dangerously with every forceful thrust as the boy in front of you holds onto your leg and drives his eager length into your eager hole, filling you with lust and anger and desperation for more.

Your fingernails dig into the old wooden box beneath you as you arch your head back and stare up through the canopy of the forest. The night seems darker than usual, yet there is a red hue all around you, you can almost taste it on your tongue. As your insides convulse, you let out a guttural groan that is answered by a grunt and soon after you find yourself pulled up against a slick body, held by a strong arm covered in cuts and bruises, and when you look at him, you see Sebastian smirking at you darkly.

Grabbing his bloody face with shaking hands, you don't care about any of it, you just need to taste and feel him, and you do as you claim his lips for a messy kiss, while he folds your body against his, your leg resting on his shoulder as he keeps pounding into you with fervour, your combined moans and groans swallowed by the other's mouth.

You hold onto him for dear life, your fingers digging into his sticky hair as you try to kiss him under the constant up and down, in and out of his thrusts, the strength he exerts against you like nothing you have ever experienced. But the pain that rushes through you is good pain, the best kind, the rewarding kind that builds and builds only to explode into nothing but pure bliss, over and over again, mirroring his frantic movements. Seconds you want to scream turn into seconds you can only moan, and then it happens again and again, always repeating.

Until your mind is completely empty and your body is absolutely useless and all you can do is hang in his embrace, whimper quietly, and let it happen.

You feel his hands cupping your ass before he grips at the soft flesh roughly, kneading and pulling your cheeks apart as he grunts against your mouth and lifts you off the crate and against his chest. Your arms wrap around his neck as you push yourself closer to him with the last bit of strength in your boneless body, while your head is spinning, the taste of metal and musk lingering on your tongue.

Moaning loudly and whimpering quietly, you feel him pushing deep with each frantic thrust, his cock plunging into your wet depths with reckless abandon. Your walls fluttering around him, your womb cramping and convulsing, you lean into the familiar sensation of painful pleasure, pleasurable pain, as your orgasm builds inside your aching stomach.

His grunts fill your ear and the stench of blood your nostrils as you bury your face in the crook of his neck, before you plant open-mouthed kisses over his pulse, his rapid heartbeat thrumming under your tongue. “Come for me, love,” you hear him groaning, his low voice gruff and demanding despite his words, as he grabs your ass firmer and teases his fingertips between your cheeks.

Shivers and shudders crash through your body as you comply, your face contorting in a mixture of agony and ecstasy as you lean your head back and find his dark gaze. The intensity in his eyes, his freckled face covered in blood, his messy hair even messier, all of it is enough to push you straight over the edge as the tension in your stomach explodes into a display of red-tinted lights, like blood spurting from an open wound.

You cry out as you come around him, your juices coating his front as he keeps pounding away relentlessly, the wet squelching sounds echoing through the quiet night. Your entire body spasms against him as you try to hold onto him while he fucks you through your release. Something warm and sticky drips down your rear, but you couldn't care less.

Finally the pleasure is bigger than the pain and you revel in it, your swollen lips pulled back to give him a tired smile before you collapse against him, your entire weight hanging in his strong arms as he continues to drive his length all the way into your quivering cunt until he lets out a low growl and with one final powerful thrust buries himself deep, prodding right against your cervix, and starts pumping his seed into your convulsing womb.

You moan under the sensation as he fills you up, his cock throbbing with each erratic squirt while he holds you tightly in his arms, his cheek leaning on your shoulder, his heavy breaths tickling your sensitive neck. After a moment of blissful ecstasy that vibrates through both of your bodies, he carefully sets you back on the crate and leans heavily against you, before he slowly pulls back, but not yet out of your clenching pussy.

Your shaking fingers dig into his hair, fingertips brushing against his scalp, as you lean in and shower his face with kisses, tasting blood and sweat and the cold night air on his heated skin. Your breaths slowly easing, while your heart still thunders away in your chest, you loosen your death grip around his neck and lean back fully, propped up on your arms as you watch him, your chest rising and falling fast, your breasts threatening to spill past your open shirt.

Sebastian looks at you with a smirk that never falters, his lips as swollen as yours, as he takes a small step closer, his cock pushing back in fully, eliciting a soft moan from you that is quickly swallowed by his eager mouth. Breathing heavily against each other, you feel yourself getting lost in his kiss all over again as he holds your face with both hands, determined to keep you boneless and light-headed.

You growl against him, playfully nibbling on his lower lip before you sink your teeth in it, causing him to flinch, but it doesn't stop him from kissing you more as the taste and feel of blood fills both of your mouths. Your senses are swimming, everything blurs into a moment of pure bliss and lust as you devour each other's lips.

In your combined haze you barely notice the footsteps behind you. Yet when a gruff voice echoes through the night, calling in disbelief: “What in Merlin's blasted beard happened here?”, you break from the heated kiss, your tongue licking over your raw lips. You both stiffen against each other for a second, before a rush of adrenaline crashes over you.

You look past Sebastian's shoulder and meet the disturbed gaze of a poacher who looks around the wrecked camp with wide eyes before staring at the two teenagers covered in blood and sweat, caught in a rather compromising position. Yet the thrill of it all, the stench of blood in your nostrils, the heat pulsing inside your core, the sight of several dead bodies scattered all around you, drives you on and even though your hand is shaking, you raise it and point your fingers at the shocked wizard who seems too appalled by everything to even react.

And then your voice splits the quiet night. “Diffindo!” You feel your magic rushing through your arm and with a flick of your finger you channel it forwards until the poacher is pushed back, stumbling, holding his cut throat as the spell slashes through the air around him. As you watch him fall to the ground, grunting and gurgling against the blood gushing out of his neck, fighting against inevitable death, you lick your lips and exhale loudly.

You feel Sebastian's chin resting on your shoulder after he turns his head away from the mess behind him. “You know, if I wouldn't be so extremely turned on by you and your bloodlust, I'd be really scared of you...” he chuckles against your ear before he nibbles on your earlobe playfully.

You place your tingling hand on his neck and rub soothing circles into his skin, calming him and yourself, before you grab his hair and pull his head back to make him look at you. He raises an eyebrow and gives you another smirk. You grimace at him and lean your head forwards until your mouths collide for a heated kiss. He indulges you and deepens the kiss with his tongue eagerly pressing against yours, your combined groans and moans quickly masking the noises of the dying poacher behind you.

When you finally break away, breathless and delirious, it is quiet again and you sigh deeply as you lean back on the crate once more, your eyes wandering down between your legs. He follows your unspoken request and slowly pulls his cock out of your tight embrace and you grunt under the sensation of your walls clenching around him as if they don't want him to go. You feel your insides convulsing and while you grit your teeth, you force yourself to jump off the wooden box and stand on trembling legs, before you feel something warm and sticky pumping out past your quivering folds.

You don't have to look to know that your thighs are covered in cum mixed with your own blood. You are a mess, an utter mess, yet when you look up at the boy who has placed his big warm hands on your waist, supporting you, looking at you out of dark eyes, you know it doesn't matter. You throw him an almost innocent smile, inviting him to lean in, and when he does you close your lips gingerly around his.

“Care for a skinny dip?” you breathe against his split lip, your eyes boring into his. “I could really use a scrub...”

He chuckles deeply against you and nods, giving you another peck, before he lifts you up onto his arms, ignoring the fluids leaking out of you. You nestle against him and sigh deeply, lovingly looking up into his bloody face as he carries you to the nearby river, stepping over the bodies of your victims whose blood is still seeping into the earth beneath them.

End notes: You know, I seldom find myself rereading my writings and think to myself: "Holy shit, this is fucked up!" Well, I did here, but I am not sorry. The filth has to go somewhere! Waking up and choosing violence has its appeal!

So originally this was just the intro scene for a much longer piece I had planned, but I had that WIP sitting around since I posted Pain Relief and never finished it. So instead of stressing and forcing myself to write more, it became this quick quickie.

I have to start writing shorter stuff anyway, so here we go. Also the idea for this came about after a little talk with the lovely @sallowslady who always surprises me with her brilliant and dirty mind, thank you so much for this and your continuous support! ❤️

Oh and not that it matters because this is plotless smut, but our dear reader can do wandless magic, okay? Of course she can! (And that has nothing to do with me, a lazy writer, not wanting to include the struggle to find her wand in that situation! Nope!)

Coincidentally, after I wrote this, I found a Smutmas prompts list that caters greatly to my writing wants/needs/habits and it so happens that the first day of Smutmas was (among other things) Period Sex. So there we go.

MASTERLIST - KINKTOBER - AO3

#sebastian sallow #sebastian sallow smut #hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy smut #sebastian sallow x reader #reader insert #kinkmas #smutmas #tw: blood #tw: murder #tw: periods #smutmas 2023 #smutmas day 1

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blueicequeen19 · 1 year

Text

Rafe’s Slut: Killer Tendencies

Warnings: d3ath/murd3r, attempted assault, loss of V, mentions of blood 🩸🫣

You watch as Rafe disappears in the pool house despite a pool party being in full swing. Unease fills your stomach. Was he meeting someone else? After everything? Had he grown tired of the games? Did you no longer mean anything to him?

While insecure thoughts plague your mind, you don't realize how you've crossed the yard and stopped in front of the pool house. The door appears to be shut but there's a tiny gap where the latch didn't catch so you gently push it open, afraid of what you might find.

There's silence. Agonizing silence as you slip inside and shut the door completely, noting that he'd attempted to lock it but failed to get it shut all the way.

Rafe didn't want anyone coming in behind him.

The realization has your breath coming in pants, nearly hyperventilating. You weren't above begging. You could be what Rafe wanted. What he needed. You'd played this torturous game for months now. Surely the promise of the prize was enough to keep him interested. It's not that you hadn't been willing. It's that he kept resisting. Like a predator playing with it's food before consuming it whole.

You gasp when you hear a pained groan followed by a grunt at the back of the hallway. You creep closer, hearing Rafe's voice just as you reach the closed door at the end of the hallway.

"You thought you could look at what's mine? Try to take what's mine?" There's a loud thump, followed by a groan. Your eyes widen when you realize Rafe is.. hitting someone. There's a pained cry after another blow is delivered to the person.

"You tried to drug her drink. I saw you." Rafe's snarl has you shuddering in place, your heart hammering in your chest. Anyone else might be mortified that Rafe was beating someone and run to call the police. Not you. It sent shots of pure fire straight to your core.

You felt honored.

Treasured.

Rafe was defending you.

"P-p-please, I-I-I--," Your spine stiffens from hearing that familiar voice. It was your ex. He'd tried to drug you at Rafe's own party and Rafe had caught him.

"Shut your fucking mouth. If you're going to beg, then beg me to make it quick." You lean against the door, listening as Rafe hits him over and over again until it starts to sound like pounded meat. Flesh against flesh until the sounds are almost sickening. Alarm bells ring in your head. Rafe was going to kill him! You don't realize the sounds have stopped until the door suddenly opens and you fall into Rafe's arms.

"Y/N, what are you--." Rafe's cut off when you pull back to smash your lips against his. He groans against your lips, hauling you up his body while covered in the blood of your ex.

“Did you kill him?” You pant against his lips, tasting the blood of another man where it’s splattered all over Rafe’s face.

“Yes.” Rafe snarls, his eyes darkening as he tightens his hold around you.

“Good.” Something inside Rafe snaps at your words and he’s suddenly got your back against the hallway wall, grinding his erection against your bare pussy as he devours your mouth.

There’s not a second’s hesitation before he’s thrusting inside you, tearing away your virginity with one brutal thrust. You scream against his lips, your arms tight around his neck as he starts to bounce you on his dick.

“Oh god, Rafe. It hurts.” You whimper, burying your face in his neck. Rafe growls, pressing your body harder against the wall as he hammers into you.

“You can take it. Take me, baby.” You blink back tears, not wanting to disappoint him as you start to move in sync with him. One hand firmly grips your ass with one hand as the other finds your clit.

“That’s it. Cum for me. Cream all over me. Your little pussy is so wet and tight. All for me.” You cry out against Rafe’s lips, your body exploding in a way you’d never felt before. Your pussy clenched around him so tightly, threatening to push him out even as he hammers inside you. You feel the sudden wetness between your legs before your body goes limp against his, a wave of emotion suddenly hitting you.

“You’re mine and I’m going to cum inside you. I’m going to pump you so full that you’ll feel me running down your legs then you’ll beg me for more.” Rafe growls as you peer over his shoulder at the body on the floor in the other room, your back roughly meeting the wall over and over again. Rafe must sense your tension because he fists your hair, bringing your head back so you’re forced to look into his eyes.

“Focus on me.”

“W-we have to get rid of the body.” You sob, your body tightening again as you approach another climax. Rafe growls before lowering you to your feet and spinning you so your front is against the wall. You open your mouth in surprise until he pulls your hips back, quickly filling you again.

“Rafe—.” You moan, his hand finding your throat and holding you tightly to his chest as his hips slam against your ass.

“You let me worry about him. Right now, I just want you to focus on how good my cock feels inside this tight little body and how you’re going to let me do whatever I want with you from now on.” Rafe growls in your ear, his hand cutting off your air supply as your eyes roll back and you cum harder than before, an obscene amount of fluid gushing between your legs. Rafe curses in your ear just as everything starts to go black until he releases his hold and you slump against the wall, trying to catch your breath.

You swallow the lump in your throat, your legs threatening to give out as as his movements grow quick and sloppy until he finally stills, his massive cock pulsing inside you as he releases thick ropes of semen as his body pins you to the wall. His heavy breathing fans across your neck as he leaves feather like kisses, his cock still buried so deep it hurts.

“Rafe.” You whisper, feeling his hand slide up your body to grasp your throat again.

“Go upstairs and wait for me. Don’t clean up. I want to see the mess I’ve made then I’m going to fuck you again. I bet I’ve got your sweet virgin blood all over my dick.” Rafe kisses your cheek before using his hold on your throat to turn your head, capturing your mouth in a toe curling kiss. Your head was spinning. You couldn’t believe what had just happened.

“Don’t worry, baby. I’m going to take care of you.”

#smutwarning #rafe cameron smut #outer banks smut #dark!fic #tw dark content #dark rafe cameron #dark!rafe cameron

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strangeswift · 10 months

Text

happy birthday to my best friend in the world, @elekinetic. pretend i finished this on time 🫶

Nancy Wheeler doesn't like hospitals.

There’s death and disease around every corner, it's always freezing cold, and the fluorescent lights give her a headache.

Plus, the vending machines always eat her quarters.

Most people don’t like hospitals, she knows that. But most people haven’t been chased through the sterile halls by a creature made of exploded human corpses, so Nancy likes to think she has an exceptionally good reason.

It’s that memory that haunts her now. It follows her down the brightly lit hospital corridor and makes her heart race as she walks a little faster, casting cursory glances over her shoulder. With every glance, she's half expecting to see a large mass of flesh and jagged bones gaining on her, leaving a trail of blood in its wake, staining the pristine white tile.

There’s nothing there, nothing but the memory, but she feels the bile rise in her throat anyway.

She focuses her attention on the numbers on the doorframes as she passes – 242, 244, 246.

248 - Maxine Mayfield.

She pauses outside the open door, taking in the sight. Bracing herself, maybe.

Max is almost alarmingly pale, though the dark circles under her eyes have cleared, making her look a little less sick and frail. Her arms lay at her sides, the casts having been recently removed. She wears a white hospital gown.

Max Mayfield has always looked like a sad kid, from the time she first moved to Hawkins – but seeing her like this is something entirely different. Laid up in a hospital bed, staring blankly ahead, her irises a milky blue color that betray her lack of vision. She looks helpless. Broken.

As shitty as it sounds, it’s hard to look at her. She’s just a kid – a kid that Nancy should have protected, but instead sent her to die. And she did. She died.

You’re just a kid, a voice that sounds something like Nancy’s mom tells her. But it's not true. It hasn’t been true for a long time.

“Who is it?” Max calls, in the vague direction of the door, “You’re supposed to announce yourself.”

She sounds frustrated, like it's a rule she’s reiterated several times before. It’s understandable, wanting some level of control.

Nancy clears her throat. “It’s Nancy.”

The scowl drops from Max’s face. “Sorry,” she says hurriedly, “I thought you were Mike.”

Nancy blinks. “You thought I was Mike? Why?”

“Your footsteps,” Max explains, “They sound like his.”

Nancy remembers having her mom and dad’s footsteps memorized, always listening for them during late night phone calls. Her mom’s were delicate and quick, while her dad’s were heavy and sluggish. She imagines having to experience the world that way, listening to the cadence of footsteps.

She steps into the room, acutely aware of the sound of her feet on the tile. “Can I sit?” she asks, resting her hand on the back of the chair next to Max’s bed, waiting for permission.

“Yeah,” Max says, granting it.

Nancy sits on the edge of the seat, her posture perfectly straight. She's stiff, she knows. Hopefully Max can't tell.

“How are you feeling?” she asks.

“Shitty,” Max answers, “and blind," she adds.

Nancy grimaces and gives a nod of acknowledgment before she remembers that Max can't see it.

“Sorry,” Max says, to fill the silence, “I’m just– I’m fine.”

“You don’t have to be fine,” Nancy says, shaking her head.

Max sighs deeply. "I know that."

She's heard it before, clearly.

“Everyone misses you,” Nancy tries, “Lucas and the boys, and Eleven.”

“El,” Max corrects automatically.

“Right. El,” Nancy amends.

Since Max woke up —since El got her back, that is— everyone's been taking turns visiting, so she's almost never alone, unless she asks for it. While Max was out, Lucas practically lived in her hospital room. He's moved back into the Sinclair house now, though he still visits twice a day. Nancy thinks he'd still be at the hospital all day if Max let him.

"Can I ask you something?" Max asks suddenly.

"Yeah," Nancy answers, "Yeah, of course."

Max pauses for a moment. "Vecna, and the monsters, and just– all this Upside Down shit we've dealt with," she says, "I've never seen you back down. From any of it. I've never seen you hesitate for a second. You just grab a gun and blow their heads off. I mean, you're like a total badass. It’s like– Like you're not afraid of anything."

Nancy shakes her head, a surprised smile creeping onto her face. "Was there a question somewhere in there?"

Max exhales sharply through her nose. "How do you do it?"

Nancy sees the way Max looks at her, almost reverent. And it's a little silly, she thinks, until she considers herself from an outside perspective. She thinks of herself at fourteen, the quiet girl who kept her head down and had just one friend. The girl who everyone thought was a priss. If that girl had seen her older self, feet planted firmly to the ground, firing shots into a demogorgon's gaping mouth as it roared, she thinks she'd probably be a little awestruck too.

Nancy remembers the first time she shot a gun. Standing in a field next to Jonathan Byers, gaze locked on a beer can, spurred on by the knowledge that her parents would disapprove. She remembers feeling like she was outside of herself, watching this girl who looked like her and felt like her but couldn't possibly be her, because this girl wielded a deadly weapon with measured confidence.

When she stops to really think about it —something she hasn't had the time or energy to do in years, constantly in survival mode— she almost doesn't know how she does it.

But the girl who fell through a tree into another world, who trembled and cried out for a boy she hardly knew, was not fearless. The girl who watched Will Byers, her little brother's sweet best friend grip his mother by the throat was not fearless. The girl who looked Henry Creel in the eye was not fearless.

Nancy Wheeler is not, and has never been, fearless.

Max fidgets, noting Nancy's lack of response. "I hate the way he was able to control me," she admits.

There's no question as to which he Max is referring to.

"When– If he comes for me again–"

"We won’t let him," Nancy interjects, her gaze fierce enough that she wonders if Max can feel it.

"We both know," Max says carefully, "that neither of us can stop that from happening."

“Okay," Nancy allows, "you’re right.”

"If he tries to get in my head again," Max says, "I want to be ready this time."

"It's not something you can be ready for," Nancy responds.

Max's face scrunches up, and Nancy can almost hear that's easy for you to say.

So she takes a different approach.

"When he got to me," she says carefully, "he showed me things." She pauses, takes a breath. "Do you know about Barb?"

"Like– a little," Max says with a shrug.

"She was my best friend," Nancy says, "My only friend, actually. And the demogorgon took her. He took her, I mean, just like he took Will. Only, she died in the Upside Down. Scared and alone."

She recounts Barb's death with a flat affect, like an investigator listing the facts of a case, the way she's heard Hopper or Murray do. She's thought about it so many times she almost feels numb, but in the icy, pins and needles kind of way.

"We were at Steve's that night," she continues, "and Barb wanted to leave. She wanted to leave and I– I told her to go without me, because I wanted to go upstairs with Steve."

She pauses. Max doesn't react.

"That was the last time I ever saw her. Until Henry– he showed her to me, and she was–" Her voice breaks, she takes a breath.

Do you remember what you did, Nancy? Or have you already forgotten?

That's how she knows he was taunting her. He can see her thoughts, and her memories, and so he knows. He knows she didn't forget. He knows it hangs over her like a dark cloud and casts a shadow over everything good in her life.

When I kill someone, I never forget.

"It was awful," she says quietly, "and it paralyzed me. There was nothing I could have done, because that's what he does. He uses your weaknesses against you."

Max closes her eyes, tilting her head back for a moment.

"It was Billy," Max says, opening her eyes, "He showed me Billy."

Immediately, Nancy knows that Henry taunted Max in the same way he did her.

"You couldn't have saved Billy," she says.

"Maybe not. But I could have tried," Max says bitterly.

"You would have died trying," Nancy argues.

"I used to wish he was dead," Max says bluntly.

Nancy's protests die on her tongue, caught off guard for a second.

"Before Starcourt," Max explains, "Before everything. I hated him."

"Max," Nancy says gently, "Billy was–"

"He was an asshole, I know," Max finishes, "A real fucking asshole. That doesn't make it okay."

Nancy shrugs. "I don't know, I think I've wished my dad would drop dead a few times before, and the only thing he ever did to me was not give a shit."

Max's eyes widen and she lets out a startled laugh. Nancy can't help but smile as she watches the tension leave her face. But it comes back just as quickly.

"He wasn't a good person," Max says, "and he sure as hell wasn't a good brother, but–" she takes a breath, "I wanted him to be. So badly. And just– now he never will, I guess."

Nancy thinks, for a moment, of Mike. She wonders if he's ever wished for her to just be an older sister. It's not the same, obviously. She's not Billy, not some abusive creep. But she's not Jonathan either. Mike isn't at the center of her life the way Will is for Jonathan. He's never needed her to prioritize him that way. At least, it didn't seem like he did.

"Whatever, it's stupid," Max finally says.

"It's not stupid," Nancy responds immediately.

Max reminds Nancy a lot of Mike. High strung, short tempered, a habit of pushing people away. But things are different with Max. Easier. There's no guilt that lies just below the surface, that builds and builds until it feels almost insurmountable, so you keep it buried.

And really, how is she supposed to talk to Mike when she's pretty clearly the last person he wants to talk to? She feels powerless with him. She feels powerless all of the time now. Her brother just got dumped by his girlfriend and he refuses to talk to anyone about it, her own relationship with Jonathan feels destined to fail, Steve Harrignton is making plans concerning her that she definitely had no say in–

Oh, and the world is ending.

There's nothing she can do to make any of it better, because she's not a great sister, or an exceptional girlfriend, or some kind of hero. She's not even the person Max Mayfield thinks she is, she's just–

She's just Nancy.

But she can talk to Max. Max is hurting and she needs someone, and Nancy can talk to her.

Max's eyes are glassy now, tears threatening to spill over.

“Hey,” Nancy says gently, “It's not stupid, okay?”

Max nods and takes a shaky breath. “Okay.”

#HAPPY BIRTHDAY ELLA KINETIC #nancy wheeler #max mayfield #stranger things #ficlet #idk that's enough tags ok bye 🫶

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