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zecoritheweirdone · 2 years

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so..

dream smp superhero/villain aus, am i right

recently(as in, about a few hours ago at the time of first writing this), i just had the sudden urge to just.. write a whole essay about this topic. and like, who am i to not bend to the will of my own mind?

so, strap in, and prepare yourself for me rambling a bunch about how people write plot twists and identity reveals in these kinds of fics(this is gonna be mostly, if not all, positive, if i may add).

(also, quick little disclaimer, for anyone who sees this who doesn’t know of me(which, fair), yes i will be writing in italics the whole time — it’s just a thing i do. just letting y’all know now jandkdndjd.)

now, i’m sure we all know, or at least have heard of the superhero/villain fics, of which there are many, that us dream smp fic writers have latched onto. we all know of the fic that, while may not have invented it, has definitely popularized it — tommyinnit’s unbeatable method. while i myself have never read it fully — got a little bit too crack, for my personal tastes, and pure angst has never been my forte, either (but to each their own, of course!) — i cannot deny the effect it had on this fandom, and i, for one, absolutely love it.

i’m not here to simply talk about the super fics(which is what i shall be calling them from now on, for simplicity's sake) in general, however. no no, here, i want to focus on something specific, something that typically is the main thing that draws one in to this kind of fic.

that is to say, as i’m sure you already know if you’ve read the intro.. the identity reveal, as well as just plot twists in general.

now, i could really have used any sort of fandom to use as an example here, but the dream smp is the first fandom that comes to my mind when i think about this — plus, well, dsmp fics are the only kind of fics i’ve been reading recently, so.. haha, yeah.

so, let’s get this straight, right out of the bat — it’s incredibly obvious to a reader who exactly the supposedly hidden identities are supposed to be. most fic writers, and do note i say this with love, i promise; are not all that great with coming up with original names. when i read a fic, i know that siren is wilbur, that the blade/blood god is techno, and that the angel of death is philza. and while those are the most common names to see, there are more that alert one to their true identities, as well: orpheus, whippoorwill, jubilee, zepherus, crowfather..

(dude i looked so hard(not really) to find other common names ppl use for techno but i could not find any.. either they use blade/blood god or they’re using a unique name or something else that isn’t used much by people.. in which case kudos for them.)

that isn’t to say that most official superhero media have great names, though. i mean.. captain america? ironman? spider-man? batman? whole lot of blank-man’s..

but, well.. for the people who know the characters well(which, well.. if you’re reading the fic, chances are, you’re gonna know the characters), it’s pretty obvious who’s who from the get-go.

but..

that isn’t really.. the point of these fics.

while it isn’t unwelcome to be in the dark about certain people’s identities(or at the least, have semi-original names),, that’s not the point.

the point is to see how all the characters interact with each other.

and.. it’s to see how they react to the reveal.

because, while the reader may know who the character’s real identities, the characters themselves don’t. and that, folks, that’s why most of you lot read them.

if not because of their names, then the summary often clues you in on what exactly you’re reading — that is, typically, an identity reveal between either a civilian or vigilante tommy, and a hero or villain trio of techno, phil, and wilbur; with some sort of extra spice thrown in to make it unique. what that is can vary, either tommy and gang are some sort of experiments, or are otherwise wanted by a not-so-good group, or maybe a different, just-as-good(that is to say, not as good) group is causing mayhem, and everyone around them has to pick up the pieces while keeping secrets locked tight. maybe nothing is as it seems at first glance, or maybe tommy is a kid with a power who heals the wrong(or right) person.

there are a ton of ways you can take this to keep it from going stale — and even if a fic is just like those that come before it, well.. two cakes is always better than one, you know?

brief fic plugging aside, and to reiterate a previous point.. it’s the characters’ reactions that drive a fic forward, not just their secrets.

a great example of this in a popular media is in this show, i don’t know if you all would have heard of it, it’s called, uh.. lemme think real quick...... oh yes, the owl house.

jokes aside, the owl house does provide a wonderful example of what exactly i’m talking about. major spoilers for the show for the next few paragraphs, for those who haven’t watched it — which, i highly recommend doing so, for it is very good. the start is a bit weak, i will admit, but the rest of the show absolutely makes up for it. definitely gets better halfway through the first season, if not a bit earlier than that.

(warning this went of for way too long,, woops djndkdjd)

now — and forgive me if i get a couple details wrong, it’s been a hot second since i’ve seen the earlier episodes — in season two, luz, with amity’s help, comes across a book, one written by a human who was previously trapped in the demon realm, just like luz is currently — you know, after she destroyed the only portal door they had to keep belos, the show’s main antagonist, from getting his hands on it. and apparently, he was building a portal door to the human realm — and was presumably successful.

so over the next few episodes, they build up this human, named phillip wittebane, as a fairly nice and smart guy. mans is just trying to get home, you know? and as luz reads the book, she begins to idolize phillip a bit. she follows his instructions, and eventually, she manages to rebuild the portal.

it uh, fails.. but that’s a story for another day.

she goes back to the book, and finds out phillip needed to go consult this being called the collector — who is important but not to this essay — and luz assumes he needed to find him to help with the portal.

with help from her aunt, lilith, she manages to go back in time(don’t ask how that’s not important), and find phillip. they team up, and adventure to find this macguffin that’s used to summon the collector.

good news! they find the macguffin.

bad news? uh.. phillip, isn’t quite as nice as was first believed. in fact, he happily tries to sacrifice his new companions in order to get away with the macguffin.

the two manage to get away, and end up confronting phillip once more — which ends with lilith punching phillip in the face, hell yeah girl!

but once they return to their own time, well.. the show cuts back to phillip, and..

it’s revealed that he’s belos, who is, if i may reiterate, the show’s main antagonist.

fans theorized about this for a while now, but this was the first time it was confirmed.

but folks, we’re not done with the owl house talk yet!! (i promise this is relevant okay the toh talk will be over soon).

so, it was revealed to the audience that phillip was belos..

but the cast, all they know is that phillip is a bitch. for all they know, phillip was a human, and belos is a witch.

but this all changes when the episode hollow mind airs.

luz and hunter — the golden guard, belos’ right hand, and supposedly his nephew — end up traveling into belos’ mind(again don’t ask it’s not important).

they end up falling deeper into his mind, and find out all the terrible things belos has done(which absolutely crushes hunter’s mindset, as he was advocating for his uncle earlier, poor kid) — launch an attack on a witch town, claiming it was by wild witches; horrifically kill a bunch of witches with a test version of the sigil system(well, they were still alive when we last saw them, but they were in agony, and i wouldn’t be surprised if they ended up dying a while after), and literally murder his own fucking brother.

and if that wasn’t enough, turns out? he cloned said brother. and then had to kill that clone when they fell out of line. rinse and repeat for the next, oh,, four hundred fucking years.

icing on the cake? hunter is a clone — or a grimwalker, as the show calls it. which, in of itself is another great example of the fans knowing something before the characters, but if i touched in it deeper this section would be longer, and y’all probably came here for the dsmp talk,, jdnkdmidj.

anyway, luz ends up getting confronted by belos — or rather, inner belos, but if you haven’t seen the show you don’t need to worry about the difference — and this.. this is where he reveals his true identity to luz.

and were this a lesser show, this would probably be very underwhelming for fans. like, c’mon, dude, we already knew that, give us something new.

but, again.. this wasn’t a reveal for the fans. this was for the characters.

and by god, did they deliver on that.

luz, who was already kicking herself for idolizing the prick that was phillip, now has to deal with the fact that, not only was she idolizing belos, albeit his past self, but she also helped him.

so, all this to say.. plot twists don’t need to be a surprise to have a reaction.

now, i just accidentally made like half of this essay so far about owl house, which, in a thing that’s supposed to be for, well.. you know, not the owl house.. probably not a good thing?

so, well.. how about i spend the rest of this time talking about a fic that i believe handles plot twists really well — that is, both ones that a surprise to the audience, and ones that aren’t.

let’s talk about.. tommyinnit’s services for villains, vigilantes, and various other vagabonds by scorpionoesit.

that’s right, folks, this whole post was secretly an advertisement for vagabonds this whole time!!!!!! HAHAHAHAHA!!!!!! YOU WERE FOOOOOOOOOOOOLED.

[coughs].

anyway.

in my opinion, vagabonds perfectly handles both types of twists.

for those who haven’t read it before, the TLDR of the fic is that tommy is just.. some guy, who ends up helping all sorts of people, be that civilians, vigilantes, the mafia.. even villains and heroes.

granted, we haven’t seen the latter two yet, but it’s only a matter of time!

and usually, these sorts of fics would have tommy have some sort of healing powers, like tommyinnit’s clinic for supervillans by bonesandthebees, which i linked earlier. but.. this fic doesn’t do that.

that isn’t to say fics that do have him use healing powers aren’t good — for one, have you seen tommyinnit’s clinic, or like- literally any other fic like it? and two, the last thing i want to do is talk down in writers for using tropes, even if they seem overused. once again, i’d like to bring attention to the two cakes theory.

but, i do have to admit.. it is refreshing.

i could explain his power, but tommy puts it together better than anyone could, over in the second chapter. the tldr of it, though, is information. which.. doesn’t sound all that good, until you see what he can get up to in the fic. i won’t spoil much(i say, knowing i’m going to spoil so many other things),, so if you’re really interested in knowing, and haven’t already, i’d say check out the fic!

and, just to state again, i’m gonna be going over some things that are spoilers for the fic, so either go and read the fic, or proceed with caution. and if you’ve already read the fic before, hell yeah!! take a peanut butter cookie.

now, as i’ve said before, there are some things — mainly characters — in this fic that are pretty obvious to a dream smp fan — which, as stated before, is not a bad thing.

there’s the vigilante orion, who’s stated to have a “large red cape” and a boar skull — who you can immediately pin down as techno from that description alone. and then, when tommy mentions a protégé of orion’s, who just know he’s talking about ranboo(technosensei for the winnnnn).

then we have masquerade, who, if not from his name(presumably being a reference to one of the tftsmp episodes), or his power(semi-time travel and portals), then by his outfit, we can say safely that he’s karl.

the hero marauder, even if you haven’t seen that name used for her before, is also pretty clear to be puffy, seeing that she’s stated to be dream’s mother.

and the author isn’t hiding their identities, either — in fact, they want you to know. because trust me, you’ll know when they’re attempting to hide it. or, well.. not quite hide it, but they aren’t giving any obvious clues, either.

jägerbomb is a villain that hasn’t shown up much, beyond a few mentions here or there, but even his identity can be found, if you know where to look. there’s the fact that jägerbomb is a type of cocktail, and the fact that, apparently, his power causes him to not be liked a lot by micheal(who, for those who don’t know, uh.. doesn’t have good parents, to say the least). all this to say, well.. there’s only one person in the dream smp that’s so obviously connected to alcohol. jschlatt.

schlatt, though, even through his minor appearances, can still be found out(unless we’re wrong but like.. [points at the villain jschlatt tag] we’re.. probably not). but, what if there’s a person who isn’t so obvious?

enter, geyser. or, sewage boy, as he’s more commonly known as.

at first glance, especially at the latter name, you’d probably think, like.. they’re charlie, right? which.. sounds plausible, until you take into account their power. manipulation of water — or, more specifically,, steam. which, well.. probably not charlie, then? especially considering he shows up later in chapter three, with.. you know, not steam powers.

when looking into at sewage boy’s identity by focusing purely on their powers, there’s.. not many people you could pin to them. maybe foolish, but, if anything, he’d be related to water, not steam. boomer, mayhaps? i don’t know much about him, but he’s like, some frog guy, right? again, still related to water, not steam. and while this fic was first posted a bit after he joined, i can only assume that it was planned out beforehand, so.. again, probably not him.

again, looking purely at their steam powers, or their name,, doesn’t really reveal anything about their identity.

but.. if you look deeper.. it can be done.

looking at their powers at the surface, as i’ve said before, doesn’t help much. but.. their powers isn’t just steam — or, well.. it is, but they can do more than just control steam.

specifically, in the fic, it’s said that they can, and i quote..

“..turn all the surrounding water...into steam so fast that the steam so fast that the expanding pressure could and would rupture every pipe in the vicinity with an explosion powerful enough to level every building in the area.”

and, i should mention, just a few paragraphs before that quote, he’s said to wear a trench coat.

folks, is there any sort of character that comes to mind when you think of explosions and trench coats?

that’s right, the one and only wilbur soot.

now, personally, when i first saw this theory, i shot it down real quick. knowing what we know about him and his son, fundy, back when chapter two first came out(which is it’s own can of worms), i thought it didn’t make too much sense. if wilbur wanted to protect fundy, yeah, i could see him being a villain, but.. wouldn’t it make more sense to just.. lay low?

but.. then i saw more and more evidence leaning towards it. the first two things i mentioned, as well as the fact that he is absolutely down to murder a kid because he might threaten his son’s safety — something i assume someone who is willing to become a villain would do.

plus, well.. all we know about wilbur’s power is that he needs to charge it, which.. makes sense if he needs to summon steam to use in a fight.

and then there’s the fact that both wilbur and fundy are a bit weird about sewage boy — specifically when wilbur finds out tommy and tubbo went to fight between orion and sewage boy.

“But the Lower is dangerous, Niki,” Wilbur argued. He glanced at Fundy for a second before continuing. “There was a massive villain attack just down the street last week!”

Fundy glared at him instantly. “Really, Dad? That’s your argument?”

…

“That attack was a major outlier, dude,” Tommy argued. “Besides, I was there, and I got away literally without a scratch.”

...

“You were what?” Wilbur yelped, at the same time Fundy yelled, “Wait, you guys actually went?!”

Tommy turned to Fundy, confused. “Yeah? We said we were going as we left, we weren’t exactly hiding it.”

Wilbur turned Fundy. “Why didn’t you stop them?”

Fundy turned a fierce glare on his dad. “I’m sorry, I was a little busy freaking out over why the fuck Sewage Boy was in the Lower.”

...

Wilbur suddenly looked sheepish. “F-Fair point.”

so.. yeah, i am definitely on the side of sewage boy = wilbur soot now.

(also there’s the fact that villain wilbur is literally in the tags but shhhhhh this is the more fun way)

all this to say, well.. uhh. something something plot twists.

okay i’ll be honest this deviated a little bit from my original point but uh. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯.

and all of that,, is just the stuff from the first two chapters. and it’s not even everything there is. we’ve got tubbo’s stuff, i’ve only kind of mentioned ranboo, micheal is lovely, clementine is the best character, tommy’s got a whole thing, and.. [gestures at fundy] yeah.

and then there’s the stuff in the third chapter. this fic isn’t even done yet we’re not even halfway done yet.

i could go on for so long about this fic. like i didn’t even get into the non-superhero/villain related foreshadowed stuff. eret’s powers,, niki’s connections.. and like, duuuuuude i could ramble so much about the fucking implications of the peanut butter cookies. was thinking about those implications since like the first week of may.

but i’ve rambled for far to long, and at this point it’s only vaguely related to my original point. so i should really wrap this up by now, hahaha.

so, tldr.... the best plot twists and identity reveals aren’t always reliant on the audience being surprised as well, character reactions are important as well; the owl house is a good show, and read vagabonds.

#zecori rambles #dream smp #my writing #<< i guess??#dude you don’t know how long it took me to format this #wrote it originally in a google doc; pasted it here; and had to redo Everything #PLUS… i had to italicize the whole post…. the work i make myself put up with /lh #tumblr mobile only lets me edit things a paragraph at a time H #anyway woops i meant to have the vagabonds bit link a bit more into my og point #but uh. i mean if you squint-#..yeah okay this entire thing was just an excuse to ramble about vagabonds jsjdkjfknffk my bad #but ngl tho; i would absolutely love to see a legitimate #-essay about the superhero/villain trope (whoops hit enter too early)#it’s genuinely neat to see how the fandom just flocked for it after unbeatable method #and the stories i’ve seen…… i won’t claim to have read all of them; or even a significant portion; but of those i have…. they are good #also also whoops the toh portion of the thing took up longer than i wanted it to jfjfkfjfif. sorry i like to talk a lot rkjdkfj #not tagging it bc they don’t need to see dsmp stuff in their place dkjdkdjdkdj #anyway i don’t expect this to get far but to those who did read it: i hope you enjoyed it. have a s’mores cupcake #also it’s 10:30 at night so i should sleep

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relto · 3 months

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man the tension and contrast between suyeong and sanga. delicious

#tütensuppe #jds tag #suyeong being 100% ready to kill a child if it would get her where she wants to go #sangas iron grip on her kindness. mwah #it started out being her only way to move forward but now she DOES have power and she refuses to give up kindness regardless!!!#and heres yuseung who probably walked into the situation knowing it might get her killed :(#anyway this was the last chapter in the fourth book and i REALLY wanted to finish it today #took a bit longer than expected whoops

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ja3hwa · 4 months

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♡ 𝐍𝐨𝐭 𝐉𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐀 𝐃𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦 𝐏𝐭.𝟏 | 𝐊.𝐇𝐉 ♡

【Synopsis】 : He couldn't help but think such filth when you were innocently fast asleep only merely a couple of feet away from him.

『Word count』 : 1.12k

-> Genre: Pure smut. Little plot. DBF.

Pairing: Dilf!Hongjoong x Park!Reader [Hwa's Daughter]

[Warnings] : Slightly Noncon (Reader is asleep at first). Masturbation. Cum play. Thoughts and fantasies. Pet names. Sir kinkish. Hongjoong is nasty. Also, Joong is like in his late 30s and tatted while the reader is only 23. Whoops.

Note: No one asked for this, but for some reason, I was hooked on the thought of the Dad's best friend trope, and Hongjoong is really coming for my heart. So, It was a perfect match in my eyes.

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You didn't know what came over yourself. It felt like the heating was turned up tenfold. Your nose scrunched as you began to move more and more in your sleep. Hongjoong couldn’t help but watch your discomfort in curiosity. Were you having a nightmare? No, you weren’t one to have them. But then again, maybe you just didn’t tell anyone. And being on a family trip in the middle of nowhere would cause distress.

Maybe I should wake her?… He thought, now sitting fully up on the pull-out couch bed. You were no longer tucked under the big fluffy covers on the single bed. No, you had thrown them off moments ago, revealing your mid-drift slightly from your short sleep top and the fact you weren't wearing any pants. God, you looked so cute in your black frilly panties…No, he couldn’t think of such a thing. Not when you were his best friend's daughter.

But oh how you looked delicious. When he met Seonghwa, he had no clue he had a daughter, let alone one that was twenty-two. And when he agreed to go on this camping trip─more like staying in this large cabin on Seonghwa family’s land─he didn’t expect to see you tag along. You were stunning the moment he saw you hop out of your car. You were everything he would want in a woman and after spending hours of the day chatting and getting to know you he knew he was fucked. Anyone outside your conversations, like Seonghwa or his other friends and their kids, would see it as some harmless banter. But in reality, Hongjoong was shamelessly flirting. He didn’t mean it at first, but it just kept going, and you kept egging him on. So what was he supposed to do?

Since there were quite a lot of people that had come on the getaway, rooms were tight. And you had begged your father not to let you sleep in the rooms where the kids were cause you were certain one of San’s boys wanted more than innocent late-night chats… He ended up putting you in the same small study-turned-bedroom where there was a single bed and a double pull-out with Hongjoong. He originally offered to take the single, but you argued, saying his ‘old man back’ wouldn’t like it. He let you take it after that comment.

“J-joong…” you mumbled, almost inaudible. The older man's eyes snapped to your parted lips in a millisecond. Did you just say his name? No, he was definitely hearing things. “Joong, please.”

No, he definitely heard you that time. Your little panting, knitted brow, and soft moans. You weren’t having a nightmare. You were having a sex dream. And it was about him. God, did he wake up in another universe where everything went his way?! He ruffled his hair before rubbing his face in disbelief. He needed to hear you again, but as he took in your figure, he noticed you were now biting your lip, and your hips were jerking slowly. The pillow you were cuddling was tightly pressed up against your covered cunt in between your legs, and every little movement of your hips sent a shock of pleasure through your body.

You were humping your pillow at the thought of them while fast asleep.

He knew it was bad, but as his cock twitched for the millionth time he knew he needed to give himself some relief. And besides, you were sleeping, so you wouldn’t catch him only a couple of feet away from you, fucking his fists in time with your thrusts as your little moans carried out the nastiest fantasies his mind could conjure.... Right?

The thought of you laying out on his bed back at his penthouse. You're soaking on complete display as you beg him to hurry and touch you. He questions if you are a virgin, and if you were would you let him fuck you raw? Just the thought of slipping inside your tight virgin pussy while you tear up at his girth. He squeezed his cock tighter, staring at you intensely, he moved the sheets off himself, hissing slightly at the cool air hitting his hot angry tip. He needed more, he needed to hear his name spill from your mouth again. And it was as if the gods answered his prayers hearing you whimper, “P-please H-hongjoong.”

That was enough to tip him over the edge, speeding up his movements. He noticed the stutter in your hips. You were close to. He’d whisper to himself, “Let’s cum together baby. Cum all over my cock, fuuck.”

He wouldn’t be able to catch himself in time, splurting all over his hand, chest, and some dripping on his thigh. Fuck, he came so much. His eyes were shut, head leaning back against the backing of the couch. His heart was thumping in his ears so loudly he couldn’t even hear anything more. He was in complete ecstasy and peace. That was until he felt the bed dip, making his heart stop and eyes widen. “oh uh..I. um..” fuck, he was so fucked. You were sitting on the end of his bed, half asleep with the haziest expression while staring at his cock still tightly in his hand. His dick twitched, causing a groan, mostly from annoyance as he had been caught and he does even feel an ounce of guilt.

“D-did I cause t-that…” You said sweetly, so innocently. Could you get any more perfect?!

“I’m sorry angel, just go back to sleep, yeah…” He tucks himself back into his boxers, feeling his cum stick to the fabric which caused him to gag. He’s gonna have to slip out for a shower. But you didn’t budge as you took in his words. Instead, you pushed past any anxiety you had over the past days wondering whether Hongjoong liked you the same way, and moved closer to grab his hand that still had some of his cum on. You had woken up over five minutes ago before Hongjoong had creamed himself. His head was thrown back and he was in complete bliss and it caused you to cum just from the sight alone. “A-Angel…”

You didn’t let him speak another word as you placed two of his fingers in your mouth, swirling your tongue around them. Soaking them. And once they were wet enough, you pulled them out with an audible pop. Slowly, without breaking eye contact with the older male, you moved his hand down until those two wet fingers dipped into your completely ruined panties, letting him feel exactly how wet you were for him. They would slip so perfectly into your cunt causing you to sigh in relief, feeling so full just from his fingers alone. “Aren’t you gonna help me, sir.”

Hongjoong was done for.

—♡

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moni-logues · 9 months

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Practice

Pairing: Namjoon x f. reader

Genre: pwp, smut, established relationship

Summary: Namjoon has a baby niece and it gives you both baby-making thots. Time to get some practice in.

Word count: 2k

Content: unprotected sex (but reader is on birth control); oral sex (f. receiving), lil bit of biting

A/N: I think this was a request? Pretty sure because I don't tend to have baby-making thoughts lmaooo not even for Joon 😂 this has been moderately edited but please forgive any typos lmao I've been belting out ballads as I've been writing whoops

You stared, transfixed, at the tiny, precious bundle in your arms as she yawned widely and shut her eyes. You lowered your head to give hers a big sniff. Who knew what that smell really was? A scent that all brand-new babies shared and no one had yet bottled. Intoxicating.

“God, smell her, Joonie. Isn’t it the best?”

Namjoon did as you instructed and grinned.

“Yeah, it’s pretty good.”

You gently leant back and Joon scooted closer, resting his chin on your shoulder, both staring down at the tiny human in your arms. She was brand new – brand new! not even a week old! – and utterly perfect: enormous dark eyes framed by the thickest, darkest lashes you’d ever seen; podgy little thighs and miniscule fingers curled into the softest little fist. It almost brought you to tears. You couldn’t believe how perfect she was.

You had hoped that his sister bringing new life into the world would have distracted his family from asking you and Joon when you would get your act together and marry… In a way, it had: they just started asking when you would be having kids. His sister and her husband hadn’t been together that much longer than the two of you had, but had somehow made it down the aisle and into the maternity ward already. You and Joon had talked about having kids ‘sometime’, ‘in the future’, ‘when we’re ready’. You had to admit this was accelerating those timelines. You couldn’t help but think about what your baby might look like, what Joon would be like as a dad, what you’d be like as a mum. Your heart clenched at the thought.

“I can’t believe I’m an uncle,” Joon says as you enter your apartment later that evening, kicking off his boots and shedding his puffer coat. “I don’t feel old enough! I’m not grown-up enough to have a niece!”

“Get used to it, old man! This is just the start!” You laughed as you took off your scarf, gloves and hat. “Wasn’t she perfect?”

Namjoon wrapped you in his arms and kissed you lightly. You shivered, maybe from the change in temperature from the cold outside. Maybe.

“She was pretty perfect, but I reckon our babies will be better.”

He kissed you again.

“Oh, our babies, eh? Tell me about them.”

“I think we’ll have three,” he began as he kissed your neck. “Two boys and a girl, boy first. Close together in age so they can be close. Obviously, they’ll have your eyes-”

“And your brain.”

“And your heart.”

He tightened his grip on you and kissed you deeper.

“And when are we expecting these kids to come along?”

He pretended to think about it for a moment.

“Well, the first one probably in about nine months’ time, what do you say?”

He grinned at you and you laughed.

“Wow, one niece and that’s all it takes? Have you thought this through?”

“Ah, we can practise, can’t we? It does make perfect, after all.”

“You’ve got a point.”

Namjoon swiped an arm over the sideboard, shifting keys and bags and wallets onto the floor, and then he lifted you onto it, kissing your shoulder and your neck and your jaw. You hadn’t expected such a reaction from him, hadn’t thought that he’d be the one needy and desperate after an hour in a baby’s company, but you weren’t complaining. Far from.

You grabbed his hair to pull his face to yours and you kissed him hard, taking his bottom lip in your teeth. His hands found their way under your jacket, under your jumper, and he ran a thumb over your nipple, cupping your breast as his tongue tangled with yours. You were quick to pull Namjoon’s hoodie off and quicker to be frustrated by layer after layer of warm clothes. You were burning up all over, the cold outside a long-forgotten memory now. All you could feel was the heat, on your skin, in your core, between your body and his. You were simmering, the flame growing taller, licking across your hips, down your thighs.

Namjoon shiver, finally naked from the waist up, and you kissed the goosebumps rising all over his flesh.

“Maybe we should go to the bedroom,” he laughed.

“What? You mean you don’t want to have sex right by our front door? I mean, I guess we can go to the bedroom, if you really want, if-”

He silenced you with a kiss and picked you up. You kissed his face all over and bit down on the soft flesh of his earlobe as he carried you to the bedroom. When he let you down, you discarded your remaining close with as much haste as you could muster. The sight of his naked body would never get old for you: his strong, thick thighs; perfectly defined V-line; the little happy trail of hair leading to his belly button; his soft, smooth skin; his stiff cock, hot in your hand as you wrapped your fingers around it and pumped.

He grabbed you by the back of the neck and brought your face close to his.

“You know they say you’re more likely to conceive if you have at least one orgasm,” he whispered to you. You chuckled.

“I don’t think we’ll have any problems there, will we?”

Namjoon pushed you onto the bed and leant down from above you. The dark lust in his eyes lightened for a second as he looked at you and he kissed you gently on the lips.

“I love you, really; I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

You kissed him once and then again and then again, each a little less soft than the one before. Because you loved him, because he loved you, because you were so sickly sweet, gooey and soft for each other, but you were also needy now, thirsty, hungry for him. Love was all well and good but you wanted to be fucked.

“Now are you going to make me come or what?”

He laughed and playfully tapped your cheek before offering you a cheeky salute.

“Yes, ma’am.”

He kissed your collar bone as his fingers found your clit. He kissed your breasts as his fingers slipped and curled inside you and his thumb rubbed your swollen bud. His kisses trailed down your stomach and his tongue replaced his thumb against you; he sucked hard as his fingers thrummed and you let yourself go to him, melted into the mattress, limbs heavy and hot.

“Fuck,” you breathed, moaning as his tongue flicked back and across. It surprised you still, every time, how quickly he could turn you to jelly, how easily he could get you off. He knew your every move, every gesture, every twitch, every flush of your skin, every different, little noise you let slip as he worked you over. Practice, he’d said. As if he needed it.

Namjoon removed his fingers briefly and ran his tongue across your entrance. Taking one of your lips in his mouth, he bit lightly and you squirmed.

“Harder,” you panted and you could feel him grin against you. He clamped his teeth harder and his fingers returned to your clit, rubbing your arousal all over, making a mess of you. He trapped it tightly between two fingers and rolled them back and forth. He bit the soft flesh of your inner thigh and hot skin of your mound; he kissed the crease of your hips and pushed your legs open wider. All the while, you could feel the pressure build inside you, you walls spasming and clenching as you neared your climax. You gripped the bedsheets tight as you moaned, pulling hard as the waves rolled through your body.

Namjoon’s mouth was back on your clit, sucking and licking; his fingers back inside you, hooking and curling against you. He held you down as you bucked beneath him, crying out as pleasure overwhelmed you. He didn’t stop, didn’t falter, didn’t stutter as you came all over him, gushing over his hand, clenching his fingers inside you. Unable to utter a coherent string of words, you tapped him on the head for relief. He came up for air, mouth shiny and sticky, and lay a line of sloppy kisses across your stomach and your breasts and your chest.

You pulled his face to yours and kissed him, tasting yourself all over his lips and his tongue.

“Ok,” you said, breathlessly. “Orgasm, check. Time to pretend to make a baby?”

He chuckled, the noise rumbling deep in his chest and kissed you again. He seemed in no rush, but you had never had the patience. You reached between you to take him in your hand again; his tip was slick with pre-cum and your thighs trembled in anticipation of him inside you.

“Imagine, though,” you whispered as he guided himself towards your waiting wings. “If we had a baby-”.

You gasped as he pushed himself inside you, your eyes fluttering shut, your cunt fluttering around him.

“Babe,” he said, his forehead resting against yours, his eyes looking deep into yours when you opened them. He rolled his hips. “Our baby is going to be the best baby there’s ever been.”

You nodded and let your eyes roll back, feeling every contour of him against your tight slip. A baby. Namjoon’s baby. Couldn’t be anything but the best.

“Best baby ever,” you agreed, breathless and whiny. “’Cause you’re the best.”

Namjoon nipped at your earlobe.

“No, ’cause we’re the best.”

“I love you.” The words barely audible as your breath escaped in shallow bursts. “I love you, I love you.”

He lay so close on top of you that your torsos met as he thrust harder and harder, his breath becoming laboured, his groans louder. You whined quietly in his ear and tugged at his hair; you wrapped your legs around him and the two of you moaned in unison when he hit deeper inside you. He lifted himself up on to his hands, looking down at you with half-closed eyes. He wanted to come on your tits, spray himself over your chest and mark you as his own, his and only his, but then he thought about coming inside you, making a baby – even a pretend one – and he felt all his muscles twitch. You were on birth control so it wasn’t as if this was the first time he’d ever come inside you, but it felt different this time. He felt closer to you. He felt like this meant something different. This was something you had done dozens, even hundreds of times, but it was different this time.

“Fuck,” he growled, feeling close to the edge.

He thrust faster, breathing hard, looking down at you: your messy hair, hand over your eyes, mouth agape, your smooth skin and kiss-swollen lips, the mole on your left breast, the tiny scar by your hairline. As the blood roared in his ears, he felt his heart clench, not knowing how it was possible to love one person quite this much. With a sudden shudder, he came, shooting his hot seed inside you, his muscles tight, his jaw clenched.

He fell on top of you, still inside you. You both lay still for a moment, no sound in the air but your breathing, no sound in your ears but the thumping of your heart. You felt hot inside and out, tingling with pleasure and relief.

“I love you,” he whispered, bringing your hand to his lips. With your legs still wrapped tight, you wrapped your arms around him too and kissed his forehead.

“I love you, too, Joonie.”

“That was-…”

“Yeah.”

You patted just above where your uterus rested.

“See you in nine months, mate!”

Namjoon laughed and you felt it in your own chest.

“Maybe next time, it shouldn’t be just for practice.”

He looked at you searchingly. Your heart flipped.

“You want to have a baby with me for real, Joon?”

“I want to have everything with you.”

You shuffled beneath him, bringing your faces closer.

“Ok,” you whispered, your faces so close that your lips touched his as you spoke. “I’ll make an appointment and get my IUD removed.”

Namjoon nodded.

“But does next time have to wait ’til then? ’Cause I’d really like to practise some more.”

Namjoon grinned.

“Well, it does make perfect.”

#namjoon x reader #bts x reader #namjoon fic #namjoon smut #bts smut #bts fic #mmm repost

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hertzwritings · 11 months

Text

You spin me right round (baby, right round)

A/N: Am I alive? Physically, yes. Am I okay? Probably not. Did I miss all of you guys and writing? YES. Honestly, it’s been weird not writing and keeping in contact with all of you, but I’m trying to get back to it – and that brings us to here. Also, I’ve been listening to Sleep Token on repeat, so I’m feeling things.

I don’t have a set schedule right now, mostly because I have no idea if I’ll be posting regularly or just on a whim, but for now, I’m just getting back in the groove of things!

Your comments, likes, reblogs mean the world to me and would definitely help me stay on it, so if you’ve got anything to say, say it, my loves.

Remember English isn’t my first language, so if there’s errors in grammar or language, try to overlook it. Love you all!

Also, please be gentle wit me on my first day back – it’s like being nervous to start a new school, really.

MASTERLIST

Ask me anything/requests/tag list requests

Pairing: NotFamous!Henry Cavill x female reader

Warnings: Language, dorks being dorks, meet cute, strangers to lovers, neighbors to lovers, smut (18+, minors DNI), dirty talk, slightly dom/sub, spanking, p in v, tongue on v, blowjobs, slight Msub to Mdom, unprotected sex, semi-public sex, creampie, petnames

Wordcount: 4633 (whoops)

You spin me right round (baby, right round)

Laundry day. Probably the worst of days, especially considering the hefty trek from your 5th floor apartment to the basement, which would be bad enough in and of itself, but carrying the massive load of laundry down without a functioning elevator without spilling half of your delicates did seem like an almost impossible task.

At any rate, you were going to do it, and you were going to be a strong, independent woman, who could definitely carry it down and back up again without dropping a thong or three (like last time, where Pete from 5D was lurking).

You heaved the blue IKEA-bag higher on your shoulder, silently cursing yourself for not actually doing the damned laundry more than you did, and began the descent into the musty basement, your trusty laundry-tokens jangling in your pocket of the loose shorts, you were wearing.

It took longer than you’d like to admit, and you almost did drop the entire bag down a flight of stairs, but you made it and with a loud grunt, you pushed the door to the basement and laundry-room open, almost stumbling inside.

“Oh.” You locked eyes with a very handsome stranger, who looked up from the only dryer, hands still buried pretty deeply in there. “Oh, you need this one?” He asked politely, and that voice – smooth velvet, mixed with a deep rumble that settled nicely in your chest and between your legs. The accent didn’t help at all with how attractive you found him, either, and you shifted your weight slightly. Fuck. “I-I… I’m… Not right…” You squeaked, silently cursing yourself for wearing your gray, tattered t-shirt with a faded logo on it, that definitely did not do anything nicely for your shape. You cleared your throat. “No, I’m sorry, no. I’m still in the early laundry-stages.” You said with a smile, and immediately wanted to die. Laundry stages?? He grinned, a fanged tooth catching his lower lip. “Alright. New to the building?” He asked, casually loading a basket with his clothes.

“Sort of. More of a recluse, that have been living here for a month, and just never do laundry at normal people-times.” He chuckled and stood up to his full height. He was an impressive man, easily towering a head and a half above you, and he looked enormous. Muscles rolled under his perfect skin on his arms, and you couldn’t help your brain going in all other directions than polite talk with a neighbor. “Well, nice to meet you, recluse. I’m Henry.” He balanced the basket on his hip (a beautiful move, if you were honest) and extended his hand, which you cautiously shook. “I’m Y/N.” You said with a small smile. His hand was warm and the grasp was firmer than you had expected, small callouses on the tips of his fingers that graced the inside of your wrist deliciously. Fuckedy fuck. “Y/N. Good name.” He winked at you. “Oh, don’t use the second washing machine…” He pointed to the washer with a bright red 2 painted on it. “Stinky Pete from 5D used it, and I don’t want to imagine what on earth he washed, but it still smells vaguely like rot.” He winked at you. “Bye, Recluse Y/N!” And with that he left, leaving you slightly shellshocked and a scent trail of hazel and wood behind.

It went on like that for a few weeks; you showed up, he was already there in various states of undress (once you even came face to face with him in just boxers, because he had spilled what appeared to be red wine everywhere) and you exchanged pleasantries before leaving the basement and going back to your apartment, sighing deeply over the fact, that you never actually talked to the handsome stranger.

----------

A while later, a little past midnight, you were back at it (still no working elevator) and found yourself face to face with the very handsome British man, who this time was wearing fucking gray sweatpants and a tank top, that definitely didn’t leave anything to the imagination. You could see every single muscle underneath the shirt as he loaded the laundry.

“Ah, look who’s back!” he grinned at you. “I saved the best washer for you, but don’t tell Mrs. Selton on the fourth. She can’t know I play favorites, or I’ll never get cookies again.” You laughed. “Alright, your secret’s safe with me, sir.” You said and stood next to him, before starting to load the washer. He tried to say something, but almost bit his tongue and groaned at the sensation. “Are you always this smooth?” You asked, laughing slightly, as he began coughing. “Inhaled… Spit…” He coughed again. When he was finally breathing normally, he raised an eyebrow at you. “I’ll have you know, this is in no way an indication of how I handle normal interactions with people. It’s late, and I’m slightly flustered.” He said with a small smirk.

“Mhm.” You nodded, while mindlessly stuffing your washer. “Sure, I’ll believe you.” “Hey, you don’t know me.” He said, leaning against the dryer and crossed his arms. “Maybe you know my name, and probably the color and general state of my underwear, but you don’t know me.” “I never said anything.” You grinned and closed the lid on the washer. “Wait, that’s not even close to full.” He tsked at you and opened it again. “You have to really stuff it in there, or you’ll be down here until morning.” “Excuse you, can you get your hands off of my laundry, you weirdo.” You slapped his hand away. “Maybe I don’t want my clothes overly wrinkled, have you considered that?” You asked. “Pfft. That’s the charm of communal laundry. It’ll always smell a little like other people and it will be wrinkled.” You guffawed. “Sure thing, Henry. Any plans for tonight?” you asked, mindlessly pouring detergent into the container. He looked at you with his head tilted slightly, a few stray curls bouncing onto his forehead. Goddamnit, it should be illegal to look like that when doing laundry. “Eh, not really. It’s Sunday, Sundays are for me and my boy.” You raised an eyebrow. “Your boy, huh?” “Oh, didn’t I tell you? I am indeed a parent. I have a child.” He said proudly, leaning over you to press the on-button for you. You jumped onto the counter behind you and sat down on it, insistingly ignoring the creaking of the wood beneath your butt. That’s an insecurity for another day. “Really?” He nodded. “Would your boy happen to be a giant dog?” he frowned. “How the hell did you know that?” You pointed to the unwashed load of laundry, where a suspicious amount of hair had settled on pretty much everything. “Why are you pointing at my... Yeah, well, that is a lot of hair…” He looked back at you with a furrowed brow. “Why are you even looking down there? My laundry should be sacred!” He said teasingly, covering the basket with his arm. “Well… That’s… Uhm… Anyway.” You laughed. “Are you just down here for fun, or did you wait for me?” You asked with a grin. He shrugged. “Oooor… Did you wait for me down here, because we’re the only people in this building that are somewhat close in age, and you are trying to befriend me, which is why you’ve hidden a bottle of wine in your laundry?” “Stop making assumptions that are astutely accurate, it’ll turn weird soon.” He groaned, and – as you thought – pulled a bottle of rosé out of his laundry. “I’m not astutely accurate, I didn’t know it was rosé.” You grinned. He laughed lightly and cocked an eyebrow. “To be fair, it’s mostly because I have nothing to do, and I have a feeling you never celebrated moving here. So…” He opened the bottle with a swift move and pulled two red solo cups out of the basket. “Drink?” You laughed.

“Love to.”

“Okay, come on, why on earth are you keeping these?” He asked, holding a very old thong between his fingers. “Shut up, and stop fondling my underwear, you freak!” you quickly grabbed it from him with a laugh. The bottle had been emptied, and a new one had been brought down and for some reason, in your tipsy mind, it was a great idea helping each other folding each other’s clothes while you were waiting on the load that was currently spinning in the dryer. “I’ll have you know, some clothes are sentimental!” You said, throwing the thong into your blue IKEA-bag. He snickered. “How on earth is tattered and holed thongs sentimental? Besides, to be quite frank, at this point it’s just… Like… A string.” He laughed. “You’re the one to talk! You threw a pair of his socks at him. “I have never seen so many pairs of boxers with holes in them!” He shrugged. “I call it the surprise.” You frowned. “The surprise?” “The surprise.” He moved closer to you, and every single hair on your body stood up, while your breath hitched. He whispered into your ear, closely enough for you to feel his lips touch your earlobe. “If I’m feeling very saucy, I’ll simply rip them off and yell surprise!.” He said and laughed, sending vibrations through your entire body. “Ah, why of course. That’s a totally normal thing to do.” He pulled back slightly, his eyes a little darker than usual. “As opposed to being sentimentally attached to a thong?” he asked, his arms caging you in – it wasn’t an unpleasant experience, but it did make your thighs shake a little. His scent enveloped you completely and made it almost impossible to think. “Many tings are sentimental. Underwear, stuff…” You answered lamely. He laughed, a low rumble in his chest and cocked an eyebrow at you. When did his face get so close? “Ah, of course. Stuff and thongs. Nothing better than relieving the good, old days of… Black thongs?” He said softly, his breath fanning over your face. It was intoxicating. “Right. Besides, you have no right to judge me when your underwear looks like it could’ve been made during World War two.” You retorted, shifting slightly in place. He chuckled. “Well… Maybe I have to get new ones, then.”

His lips were so, so close to yours, all it would take was just a little nudge and you would be connected. He was intoxicating as he had you caged, muscles rolling in his arms, his scent of wood and something inherently Henry fully filled your brain, and you almost moved your head, but the sound of the dryer going off pulled both of you out of whatever that was.

“Second load done, one more to go!” He said a little breathlessly and pushed himself away from you – you let out a breath, you didn’t know you were holding and jumped down from the counter. “Great.” You whispered, bending down to grab whatever was in there – you would’ve just kept going, if it wasn’t for the small groan that sounded behind you. You turned your head around and caught Henry looking at your ass. “Excuse you.” You smirked. He cleared his throat. “Were you just looking at my ass, Henry from 4C?” “Uhm… No, I… I-” He groaned. “Fine, I was, but you can’t blame me! You’re bending down like that, and you’re wearing those fucking shorts… I can’t help it, you’re fucking gorgeous, darling.” You shivered. “Oh.” A thick silence fell between you, and you slowly stood up, laundry be damned. “Yeah, well… It’s an unfair advantage, I really tried to be proper and all that, but... Jesus Christ, Y/N.” he groaned again and closed his eyes – the small twitch in his gray sweatpants did not go unseen by you. “Respectfully, are you wearing anything underneath those sweatpants?” You asked, slightly out of breath while heat and wetness were pooling in your panties by the mere idea. “Maybe, maybe not. Are you wearing anything under that?” He asked, opening his eyes slightly. “No, my sentimental thongs are in the laundry.” Wherever the confidence came from, you had no idea, but his reaction to you was more than enough for you to keep going. You were slightly shaky as you moved a step closer to him. “Y/N…” He whispered. “Henry…” You were chest to chest to him now, his lower back against the counter. It was slightly exhilarating to have the control, especially over such a big man as Henry. “Henry…” You whispered his name again, and a fucking whimper fell from his lips. Yeah, fuck this.

You pounced – as best as you could, height difference and all – and the moment, he realized what you were doing, his arms wrapped around you and lifted you slightly, so your lips could connect. It was electric. No, not electric, it was like a symphony of colors, feelings and it was like plunging into cool water, when his lips touched yours. You moaned against his lips, and he gasped, letting your tongue glide against his. Deepening the kiss, he straightened up slightly, allowing your legs to wrap around his waist, holding on for dear life. Your lips and tongues slid against each other fervently, a slight groan reverberating from his throat send you over the edge. You bit his lower lip, pulling a soft moan from him, and wrapped your hand in is hair, tugging it slightly. The reaction was better than you could’ve ever imagined. His hands moved from your waist to your ass, squeezing hard, while a mix of moans and your name tumbled from his lips to yours – you could feel his hard length pressing against the sweatpants and your shorts, and you were sure you were leaving wet spots on his pants. “Fuck, Henry…” You mumbled his name, and he turned around to place you on the counter, before going to your throat, kissing and biting. You moaned at the feeling and threw your head back. “Harder.” You moaned, and felt him smile against your skin, before his teeth sunk deeper into your skin, his large hands tightening their grip on your thighs, causing you to roll your hips. “Fucking hell, darling, I can almost taste you from here…” He whispered against you, his hands moving upwards. “Hmm, really?” You moaned, rolling your hips again. “Nobody’s stopping you.” You tugged his hair again for good measure. “No, you’re right about that.” He mumbled, his hands dancing up, up, up, until they reached the waistband of your shorts and gently pulled them down, letting the fabric slide down your legs – you lifted your ass from the counter, allowing them to fully fall off of you, and he groaned at the sight in front of him. “Fuuuck, darling… I can see how fucking wet you are… Can I taste you?” He asked, his darkened eyes finding yours, chest heaving. You cocked an eyebrow. “Ask nicely.” He chuckled, a thick finger gliding along your hip, slowly inching towards your mound. “Please, Y/N, please… Fuck, I need to taste you, please, let me taste you… let me eat you out until you cum on my tongue.” For a seemingly proper British man, he was filthy. “Yes.” He didn’t wait a second before moving down your body, teeth catching both fabric and nipple on his way down, before he stopped, licking his lips, while looking at your exposed, dripping pussy. “Y/N…” He mumbled your name like a prayer, and before you even had the time to breathe, he licked a thick line along your lips, parting them with it. He moaned at the taste and dove in like a man starved. You mewled at the feeling, his tongue moving around your clit, fingers still on your inner thigh, and you could barely hold your upper body up as his tongue dipped inside of you. “Fuck, yes… I want to feel you cum on me, darling…” He mumbled against you, his hips rutting slightly into nothing. “Fingers. Please, fingers.” You managed to moan as his tongue went back to your clit, hardening against it as he began to eat you out with an intensity you’d never experienced before. He obeyed silently, adding two thick fingers into your dripping pussy, curling them upwards. You bit back a scream as they filled you, slowly sliding in and out, hitting your g-spot over and over, while his tongue did magic on your clit; you’d forever be ruined by this man, and he hadn’t even been inside of you yet. “Fuck!” You bit back a scream as he sped up, tongue and fingers working in perfect unison to pull you closer to the edge; he chuckled darkly against you, the vibrations sending shockwaves through your clit. “Be quiet, little bird, or someone will hear.” He said slowly, taking a small break from your clit. “Fuck off, it’s like three in the mo-or…” You didn’t finish your sentence, as he dove back in, this time with a speed and intensity, that could’ve killed you on a different day. “Shit, I’m gonna…” He moaned as you tightened around his fingers, and he slurped your juices from you, keeping the pace as best he could. “Fuck, you’re so fucking tight, baby… I want to feel you cum, can you cum for me, please…” He whimpered as your pussy pulled his fingers deeper inside of you, and you shook slightly.

You couldn’t stop it, even if you wanted to. Your orgasm hit you like a fucking train, white spots appearing in your vision, and you felt, more than heard, his moaning as you rode your orgasm out on his face and fingers.

“Fuck, baby, look at you… You squirted for me, didn’t you, darling?” he looked up at you with a devilish smirk on his face, that was shimmering with your cum under the low fluorescent lights. You moaned – his fingers were still going in and out of you. “Now…” he whispered, his voice dangerously low. “You get on your knees, darling.” E stood up and wiped his face gracefully, putting a single finger in his mouth. “You taste fucking amazing.” He grinned at you and stood to his full height, a sense of authority filling the room. “Knees.” He commanded, and who were you to deny that? You slid down from the counter on shaky legs and landed on your knees, looking up at him. “Fuck, darling, you can’t look at me like that, I’ll fucking cum here and now.” He groaned. “Well, where’s the fun in that?” You said while your fingers grabbed the waistband of his sweatpants and pulled them down, letting his cock spring free. You almost salivated at the look of it. Thick, throbbing slightly, a thick vein running down the length of it and a drop of precum sparkling under the lights. He was huge. “Well, what are you waiting for, little bird?” he chuckled, before he cut it off with a moan, as your lips wrapped around the tip, and you slid down as far as your jaw and throat allowed you to. He moaned as the tip hit the back of your throat and you choked slightly on it – you were dripping wet, as you began to move back and fort on his length, swallowing as much as you could, reveling in the taste of is precum. He twitched slightly and a choked moan spilled from his lips, as he thrusted forwards. “Fuck, baby… Shit, you’re really... Fuck… Good at this…” He moaned. You smiled around his length and moved faster, hearing the choked moans above, spurring you on. “Fuck, baby, stop, stop, stop… Stop, I’ll cum if you keep going…” You whimpered as he pulled away from you, a line of spit connecting you, and you looked up at him with big eyes. He groaned and held your chin with a large hand. “Good girl. I want to feel you before I cum, darling.” He whispered, gently guiding you up to your feet again by your chin. He kissed you deeply before turning you around, bending you over the counter. “Fuck, this ass… You’re a fucking wonder, baby…” He reveled, a hand falling on your ass. You moaned at the sensation and your hips bucked, exposing yourself more to him. “Oh, look at you, doing so fucking good for me already, aren’t you?” he whispered. You moaned again. “Henry, please…” You whimpered his name and tried to push back to get him inside of you, but he chuckled and held you tightly in place. “No, baby girl, you’re going to stay right there.” He ran a hand down your spine and slapped your ass again, forcing a whimper from you. “Now, you ask nicely, and I’ll fuck you right here, right now.” He said darkly, his hand gently running circles over your ass, sometimes dipping between your legs. You coked on a moan, and barely had the wherewithal to create a coherent sentence. “Please, please, p-please, fuck, Henry, please… Please f-fuck me, I’m begging you-u…” His finger dipped inside of you. “You want to feel my cock slowly slide inside of you, baby?” He asked, dragging his finger in and out painfully slow. You whimpered a broken yes. “Want to feel me dragging against your walls, huh? Want me to fill you, let my cum drip out of you?” You were a shaking mess as another finger was added. “Y-yes…” You felt like crying. It was so good, but so torturous to feel his fingers glide so fucking slowly. “Ah, you can do better than that, darling.” He said, bending over you – you could feel the tip of his cock against your ass, as his mouth found your neck again. “P-please, Henry, please… I want to feel your cock in me, please…” “Mhm… I want to fill you up, darling… I want to watch my thick cock slide in and out of your tight pussy, seeing you take me…” He rambled, fingers moving faster now, and you groaned at his words. “Fuck, y-yes, Henry, I’m b-begging you, please…” you mewled. He withdrew his fingers too quickly for your liking, and he spat on your already soaked pussy, before lining himself up. “You think you can take all of me right now, baby? Let my thick cock go as deep as it can, huh?” He asked, rubbing the tip against your entrance, smearing the wetness around. You nodded, desperate for anything at this point. “No, no, that won’t do, little bird.” He tsked at you and his free hand wrapped around your hair and tugged slightly, arcing your back as your head got pulled back. You moaned loudly. “Mhm, keep the sound down, we’re in a public area, sweetheart.” He said with a small chuckle. “Ask me and mean it.” He ordered, the tip of his throbbing cock so fucking close to glide inside of you. “Fucking fill me, or I swear to god…” you begged, and whatever you wanted to say got lost in your throat, as he slid inside of you swiftly and in one, single thrust, bottomed out.

You shrieked in both pain and pleasure, your legs shaking and if he hadn’t kept a tight grip on your hair and waist, you’d probably collapse. “Oh, good girl, look at you taking all of me… Sit, it looks to fucking good to see my cock in you, baby…” He mumbled. He didn’t move yet, simply allowing you to adjust. After a few seconds, you rolled your hips to let him know you were good, and he chuckled darkly. “There’s a good, little slut, darling.” His words combined with his voice sent wetness down your thighs as he began moving, slowly at first, before picking up speed. You felt every single twitch inside of you, and he filled you to the brim. You had never been so fucking full before, and you’d never want to stop, if you were honest. He angled himself a little better and pistoned in and out of you; you saw stars and a red-hot burning started in your abdomen seconds before your orgasm hit you; it was blinding and your legs were barely functioning as you came around him, your pussy pulling him deeper, as your thighs got soaked and he moaned. “Fuuuuck, you’re so fucking tight, Y/N… Fuck, I’m not going to last long…” He moaned as you twitched around him and met his thrust, the sound of your skin slapping against each other filling the otherwise quiet room. “Fucking fill me, please… I want to feel you cum, I’m b-begging you…” you moaned, almost delirious at this point. He roared and bit down on your shoulder, before he picked up speed and began fucking you fiercely, his tick and long cock hitting your cervix slightly. You mewled and another rush of wetness went down your legs, as you neared another orgasm while he whispered praise and encouragements in your ear.

“Look at that fucking… Oh, fuck…” He groaned and thrusted harder than ever, his rhythm becoming irregular. “Look at you taking me so well, darling… You’re doing so good for me, can you cum again?” He licked the spot, he had just bitten. “Can you cum for me again, baby girl? Let me… Fuck… Feel you cum again?”

As if you could deny him.

He clamped a hand over your mouth as you came wit a scream, your pussy tightening and pulsing around his length as he fucked you into oblivion. He roared with pleasure and his hand moved from your waist to your ass, grabbing it harshly before picking up speed and chased his own high. You were shaking, barely coherent as he fucked you relentlessly. “Henry… Fuck, please… Let me feel you cum… Fuck, p-please, I want to feel you fill me, please…” You moaned his name like a prayer, and he growled before his speed stuttered. “Fuck, baby… I’m going to fill you up, you’ll be dripping for days… I’m so fucking deep in your tight pussy…” he mumbled, his hand bruising your ass, wile he pistoned back and forth; he fell silent for half a second, before you felt him swell and twitch slightly. “Tell me you’re mine.” He growled. “Mine.” His cock pounded you relentlessly. “H-henry… Shit, y-yes, yes, I’m yours!” You mewled as he twitched again.

Ropes of his cum painted your insides, and you came with him as you felt the heat of his spend inside of you. Henry growled as you tightened around him again, and he jerked his hips so he was a deep as e could be, whispering praise to you, as you rode out your own orgasm.

You stayed bent over the creaky counter, sweat dripping form the both of you, his cock still inside of you, for a few minutes, trying to catch your breath.

“Shit, that was…” he whispered, kissing the bitemark on your shoulder gently. You shivered. “Mhmm…” Words did kind of fail you at the moment. He seemed to understand whatever you meant, at any rate, and chuckled gently, before slowly pulling out with a hiss. “Jesus Christ… You’re a fucking wonder, you know that, Y/N?” He asked, the sweetest smile painting his features. You grinned with slightly bruised lips, and pulled your shorts back up. No reason to try and clean up. “Says you.” He bent down and grabbed the black thong, that was more string than fabric at this point, at stuffed it in the pocket of his sweatpants.

“Sentimental value, you know?” You laughed. “Does this mean I get to see your surprise-move?” You asked jokingly. He cocked his eyebrow and a smile spread across his face – he was a goddamn Adonis.

“Well, I do have more wine in my apartment… And a bed…”

“Lead the way.”

TAGLIST:

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wavepriism · 7 months

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totoko :3

#i meant to post this like four days ago but it took longer than i expected whoops #osomatsu san #totoko yowai #priismart

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snuggleboots · 10 months

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Akatsuki parents? Akatsuki parents.

because I like shoehorning my experiences into my ninja bullshit. Hope y'all enjoy my rambling. : )

Feat. Hidan, Kakuzu, Kisame, Itachi.

Hidan ends up a girl-dad, and a proud one at that, given your daughter is a complete fucking gremlin, just like him. An aggressive toddler that looks like a tiny little sweetheart, with chubby cheeks, gorgeous violet eyes framed by the prettiest eyelashes you'd ever seen, and hair that looks like a carbon copy of your own. Her little smiles are a mixed bag, and you never know whether to expect cute baby affection or chaos that no toddler her size should realistically be capable of bringing into existence.

Nobody expects it when she toddles on up, all tiny, squishy hands and 'awwww, hug?'s, only to turn on a dime and start biting, smacking, or pinching- all while wearing a huge grin that she must have inherited from her dad, or giggling like a squeaky hinge. Babysitters do not last, Hidan finds absolutely nothing more hilarious than seeing another one leave haggard and never pick up jobs from either of you again.

She's a natural climber, knows no fear, and loves nothing more than climbing up onto the back of the couch and waiting. 'Oh no, 'M stuck!' is a goddamn trap. It took a couple pint-sized ambushes, wherein she lunges, catches some serious air, and rams into you or Hidan at full force to learn that lesson. Your natural state becomes STRESSED. Hidan, on the other hand? Constantly entertained. That little girl can do literally no wrong, because, shit, she's just emulating her dad, obviously.

If it's possible for a toddler to be sarcastic, she is, and it's only ever when she's using her manners. One tiny little eyebrow cocked, a crooked smile and cooed, 'Oh, nooo. So-orry!' Hidan has literally cried from laughing so hard, until she turned it on him. One big, angry bitemark on his forearm later, and those tittering giggles and 'Uh-oh, you o'tay? Uh-oh!' felt just a little more irritating than when they were directed towards you. He's even less impressed when you're laughing right alongside your little devil-child.

Older kids tried, once, to pick on the little girl who laughed too loud and played too hard. Unfortunately for them, she's always had a set of lungs and knew damn well how to use them. One blood-chilling shriek- not because she's hurt, but because she knew he'd hear, and haha, there's dad. Big, fat crocodile tears, a quivering pout and squeaky, 'Oh, no!' and it was game on.

Hidan doesn't give a fuck how old a snot-nosed shithead might be, his bullying is indiscriminate and he's had far longer to refine his insults than they have. She's rarely bullied, because word spreads and it's hard for a kid to bounce back from such heated and targeted shit-talk, even harder to bounce back when they watch some whooping, laughing maniac beat the shit out of their dad for trying to step in. You were only slightly surprised, and a little concerned when your little gremlin laughed and squealed over the playground dad on dad beatdown.

Deidara drops by from time to time, and he seems to have as much fun wrangling your tiny little hellion as Hidan does. He doesn't mind the fact that she can be aggressively playful, and takes absolute delight in the way her eyes go wide and shine with awe when he shows off his art. She's fascinated by his hair, and you find some remarkable moments of quiet and peace when she's perched on the couch with him on the floor, her chubby fingers toying with and carding through the golden mane that's somehow smoother and shinier than silk. If he minds the fact that she essentially pets him like a cat, he certainly doesn't mention it. 'Awww! So sof', so sof'.' Between Deidara and Hidan's high energy capacity for mischief, his visits always end up with your daughter properly knackered, and mercifully tame for the rest of the day.

Kakuzu didn't want kids the same way a dad doesn't want the dog his kids inevitably end up bringing home. You two ended up with a daughter, and at some point, somehow, someway, he became begrudgingly attached and takes over everything surrounding that little baby. Maybe it was the fact that when he looks into her eyes, he sees a soft, sweet mirror of his own, moss-green eyes that haven't yet seen the horrors of the world and the awful things that wait within it. Either way, the most miniscule part of him that can still feel love does, and every ounce of it belongs to her. You have your share, but you know that his daughter put the moon and the stars in his sky again.

Your full-time job becomes raising her, the little lady that sees the world with his eyes and speaks remarkably well for a tiny toddler her age. There's not a snowball's chance in hell that he'd trust some random to watch over his girl. You're just lucky that she's an honest delight to raise, although that might be your own bias talking. Kakuzu does a lot of reading with her, and it's almost comical to see a man like him drawling and grumbling through a ten-paged book about a little pig's wild adventures in kindness.

When Kakuzu's balancing books in the evening and she can't sleep, she always seems to find her way to the kitchen table where the old bounty hunter is pouring over expenses and budgets. Tiny fingers count on an abacus while he counts stacks of green, and when he loses count because she's quietly chatting away to the walls and the table and his ears when they listen, he can't even find it in himself to be upset. Not when those pretty eyes turn their gaze to him and she bids her sweet 'uh oh, sorry papa'. For all his power, he can be weak in those moments that make his heart just a little happier.

Innocent, and unacquainted with the temper that almost defines him as a man, she isn't afraid of him, she isn't afraid of him, she isn't afraid of him. Never had she, nor will she ever bear witness to the ugly, vicious face of his short-fuse and hellfire wrath.

That sweet little girl is spoiled, and that's only because she never seems to ask for anything herself. So polite, for one so small. When little green eyes sparkle because they fell upon a pretty dress, a toy, a book that has her oohing and ahhing, a little cup that has a straw 'oh, wow!' and a cute little pig printed on the plastic 'ohh! a piggy! haha, oink oink!' - who is he to turn his head and leave it at that?

She could ask for the moon, and it would be all he could do to bid a slow, pensive nod and murmured assurance, 'It only sits in the sky for you.'

Hidan is a frequent and uninvited visitor, and while normally you'd find that to be cause for concern it's quickly proven pointless to worry given the fact that if Kakuzu isn't grouching him under control, your daughter has a hilarious talent for putting him in his place. Seeing the zealot sat on your couch, being prodded and chided by a girl less than half his size is certainly a sight to behold; hearing her tut and chastise him in a way she must have learned from her dad for putting his feet on the coffee table, shoes on the couch, or his drink on the side table without a coaster is absolutely hysterical. 'Stains are 'spensive! Feet down!'

Kakuzu's sweet little mini-me: breathes

Kakuzu:

Kisame takes on the dad role like he was born for it, after a small period of adjustment. You two end up having a boy and a girl, and he's practically putty in their little hands. Your boy is huge, had been since he was a baby - which is natural, Hoshigaki kids are just... big, generally. Your girl caught both of you off guard, only because she's so tiny. The sibling dynamic is chaos, but a warm one that always seems to leave Kisame cackling or grinning over something ridiculous those two end up getting into.

Your boy is like a walking clone of his dad, and even as a little boy he's already standing as tall as your ribs. Slate-blue hair as soft as cornsilk, teeth that make you grateful he was never a biter, and little gills bracketing his throat. Soft-spoken, a little shy outside of his parents, and constantly looking to wrestle and play. If you're doing something, he's a guaranteed little helper - he likes to help with cooking when you let him. If his baby sister is getting into trouble, he's either helping her do it to make sure she's safe, or he's the one carrying a kicking, griping toddler to one of you two to handle. Yeah, he's a bit of a narc- but it's always for a good cause. He's a fretful big brother.

Your girl is probably the most precious little baby you'd ever met, and Kisame is quite literally helpless against her doe-eyes and deceptively sweet, cheery little voice. Where her brother is quiet, she is loud; where he's happier to follow the rules and keep out of trouble, she's a born rule-breaker that finds boundaries just to test them. When you stumble upon her in the midst of some suspiciously quiet, pint-sized anarchy, she always manages to look surprised that you ever caught her in the first place. She looks like you, if you were knee-height and sporting tiny little daggers for teeth and gills on your cheekbones. Kisame blames you entirely for her gremlin personality.

Kisame does not discipline unless he needs to, because he feels awful when big, sweet baby eyes look at him with complete betrayal that he dared to tell them no, or stop them from pulling off some kind of crazy baby scheme that would make your hair grey from stress. Quivering pouts or teary eyes and he's gotta tap out.

Babysitters adore your kids when they behave, but Kisame vets any you hire thoroughly because he's more than a little protective of his babes. It's like they're each a half of his heart living outside his body and he honestly struggles to manage the overwhelming love and affection they pump into his veins every day. He could, and gladly would break fingers over something as minute as hurt feelings.

You hold the sole rights to discipline outside the house, too. If either of your ankle-biters act out their mischief in public, and someone tries to step up and throw in their two cents, Kisame's massive silhouette and mean, sawtooth grin are very effective deterrents.

Itachi is a semi-frequent visitor, and both of your children love him fiercely. You're half-convinced that he has some kind of Uchiha magnetism, given the fact that he'd won over not one, but three Hoshigaki by the sheer power of his quiet, soothing presence. Kisame takes great amusement in watching your little lady climb all over the poor man, and your son sidle up beside him with his favourite book to chat his ear off about the adventures that lay within it. Itachi, to his credit, never ever seems to mind the undivided attention of the lively gilled babes.

Kisame, and his pint-sized sidekick: getting into Hoshigaki-brand bullshit

You, with your sweet little chore buddy: > : ( no- one hundred times, no!

Kisame, and his tiny co-maker of mayhem: betrayed, bamboozled, and somehow? positively shocked that you found out

Itachi slips seamlessly into a domestic role, despite how long he'd been absent from one. Childrearing almost seems like his god-given purpose in life once he actually sets himself to it, and the second you two brought home your cooing, burbling baby it was on. He's happy, grateful to stay home and take care of your son, tend to the home and make your transition back to work as smooth of a process as possible.

It's an all-too common scene to come home and find the Uchiha at task in the kitchen, tending to a meal simmering on the stove while your squishy, pudgy-cheeked and sleepy eyed boy perched on his hip with a tenderness that makes your heart hurt. Even as a clumsy little toddler, he's never found very far from his dad. If Itachi is cleaning, there's his little mini-me, trying to help and earning gentle encouragement and a soft, fond smile for his efforts.

Honestly, your little guy is the most well-mannered, well-adjusted, well-spoken toddler you've ever met. He genuinely likes to help, to the point that it sometimes becomes a problem because he's very determined when there's any little problem set out in front of him. At the park, playing with other little babes, he's more concerned with making sure everyone's playing fair and playing safe than he is about actually having any fun himself. He's a bit of a worrywart for someone his age, and half the time it feels like he's the self-appointed tiny guardian of his friend group. Someone trips and skins a knee? 'Are you okay? We can sit down for a little. It's okay.' A born father, is your Itachi.

Who, for a man so reserved and soft-spoken, is hellbent on making sure his son has the most peaceful, memorable childhood he can possibly offer. Not a day is wasted in your household, even a lazy day is an opportunity to make memories and spend some honest, quality time with the people he loves most. You three can cook meals together, with your boy set to work at taste-testing and mixing ingredients under the quiet, watchful eye of his dad. He never wants for encouragement, love, affection, or little things that catch his eye; it would be wrong to call him spoiled, because he isn't, but there is little he wants that he doesn't receive.

Your secondary job is bullying Itachi into taking a day to relax and unwind, because although your son is essentially the perfect child, it's still a lot of work to raise him. Even when you're the primary parent on those days off, he's never far away, and always finding sneaky ways to slip back into dad-mode rather than actually relax. Half the time it takes you putting your son on the job of wrangling his dad just to make the man sit down, crack open a book and let himself just be. That typically entails your little boy gently chiding his father in a way you're certain he learned from the Uchiha himself- and god, it makes your heart melt. 'No, no. Gotta have your tea, it's gonna get cold', 'Sit, sit, sit. Sometimes we need to sit, papa. Gotta rest!'

Kisame loves to visit, he makes that fact no secret. For a man so massive, so intimidating, he handles your boy like glass- as if he's afraid a little rough play might break him. And your son, always as sweet as he is smart, adores the company. His questions know no limits, and he's a clever little babe about getting answers without actually asking questions. 'Can we go swimming? You must swim fast- can you swim under water? I can hold my breath longer than you can.' You once got to watch the boy perched at the end of a dock for half an hour, holding a staring contest with the swordsman who'd been stubbornly sat at the bottom of the lake's shallows for at least half an hour. That thoroughly entertained grin on the swordsman's face when he flared his gills told you he knew what exactly your boy was so curious about when he'd challenged him in the first place.

#kakuzu #hidan #kisame #itachi #naruto scenarios #naruto imagines #kakuzu x reader #kisame x reader #hidan x reader #naruto x reader #itachi x reader #i'm sorry but kakuzu as a dad specifically is my favourite #kisame as a dad and/or an uncle is ALSO my favourite i can't help it #kisame hoshigaki #itachi uchiha #kisame hates hiring babysitters and has no shame in offering to call itachi - you try to persuade him not to because itachi's a busy guy #kisame doesn't even have the courtesy to look sheepish when he tells you he'd already called him over to watch the kids for the night #'he's practically their uncle- sweetheart he LIKES watching 'em. it's fine! it's really fine!'#househusband itachi who brings his son along when it's time to go babysit the hoshigaki babes #'is it really work if it's essentially a playdate?' 'yes - and i'd like to pay for the trouble' 'you consider your children trouble?'#'...shut up and TAKE my MONEY PLEASE'

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yuna542 · 10 months

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Connected (OT8 x reader)

Part 19<-

Part 20

Pairing: Han x reader

Genre: Smut, Fluff, Angst

Warnings: 18+, Under 18 DNI!, Smut, Suggestive Themes, Swearing, Pet Names, Swearing, Oral (m & f receiving), Squirting, Arguing

Word Count: 4.6k

Note: Next Part whoop whoop. Tell me how you like it! Bratty but desperate Jisung is my favourite tbh. Comments, Likes and Reblogs are always a blessing <3

On your first day of your new job as the personal manager of Stray Kids, you didn't expect to be standing in front of the man you made out with last night in a club. But it soon becomes clear that the Stray Kids don't just want you as their manager.

Will this passionate arrangement end your career?

Changbin shook his head and the rest of the boys settled down in the living room.

"How can you get so horny from arguing?", he asked while looking at the closed door, and Hyunjin buried his face in a pillow.

"I can't go back to my room for the next few hours. I can hear everything through the walls", he grumbled into the fabric and Chan just grinned:

"It's a good thing, isn't it? For the two of them to let off some steam and relieve some tension."

"You could call it that", Seungmin replied ironically, preparing pizzas with Felix in the kitchen.

You were just waiting for that all day. Your hands flew into his hair, tugging lightly as you clung to each other chaotically. His hands went under your dress, grabbed your breasts, and he ripped it off you like he couldn't wait a second longer. All the pent up rage and anger erupted as if you had saved it all just for this moment.

Your teeth clashed against each other and even your tongues fought for dominance as you mercilessly licked into each others mouths. Fireworks took away any ability to think and all you felt was the ecstasy that made your blood boil.

He pushed you roughly to his bed and his hands were everywhere at once. You didn't even notice how your bra disappeared. His shirt also landed on the floor before the back of your knees even touched the mattress.

He pushed you down on the mattress until you were under him and licked a strip across your belly with his tongue, up to between your breasts, where he bit into your warm flesh harder than necessary. Your fingernails brushed over his scalp and down his neck until you felt the muscles of his defined shoulders working under his skin.

"God... I love your tits so much...", he gasped, taking one nipple into his mouth to circle it with his tongue.

The other breast he kneaded with one hand and immediately your breathing stuttered as his mouth worked the sensitive spots, like he knew exactly what he needed to do, to control your body.

"Oh fuck...", you breathed as he sucked your skin between his teeth and licked a wet line up to your neck. He smiled in amusement when you got goosebumps as he blew on the wet spot and the cold made you shiver. Your legs were already weak and as he spread light kisses up your neck, a sinful moan escaped you.

"Honey, if you don't like my teasing, why are you moaning?", he suddenly whispered in your ear and you wanted to slap the shit out of him and be fucked in the mattress at the same time. His face hovered in front of yours and his eyes shone like liquid caramel in the pale light of his room.

You balled your hand into a fist in his hair and pulled his head closer until your lips brushed his lightly. But when he tried to lean forward further to kiss your lips, you held him by the hair, until he hissed.

"Do you want to just talk or fuck me, Hannie?", you whispered seductively against his lips and you felt something hard on your inner thigh making itself known. His eyes roamed up and down your face and the tension almost made you tremble. He leaned back, stood up and slipped out of his pants and underwear without taking his eyes off you.

Meanwhile, you took off your panties too and he leaned over you again, one elbow to the left of your head and the other hand wandering down your belly until his fingers brushed through your wet folds.

"Are you so desperate to get fucked by me, my pretty little slut?", he asked mockingly as you pushed your hips at him. You were so starved and wanted to finally feel him. Wanted to work off all that stress on him until you couldn't breath anymore.

"Shut the fuck up!", you growled, yanking on his hair to get his lips back on yours. You put all your anger and frustration into the kiss, which he caused you today. You hoped he felt it. By now you didn't know if you were fighting or making out.

But why in the world was this so hot?

Why did it feel like being consumed by a firestorm?

"Such bad manners, jagi... Maybe I should do something about that."

Your quick-witted reply got caught in your throat as he sank two fingers into you and began pumping them directly into your soaking cunt. Gasping, you arched your back and clasped his wrist next to your head with your hand.

Faster and faster he pumped his fingers into you, watching you loosing control over your facial expressions as he did so. His cock twitched excitedly at the sight of your aroused face and your juices on his fingers. He knew you were already about to reach your climax.

That just his fingers did that to you, was unbelievable to you.

But he suddenly just stopped and withdrew. You propped yourself up on your elbows and looked at him accusingly.

"If you want it so badly, you're going to have to work for it“, he said, and sat down next to you on the bed, leaning his back against the headboard.

His eyes sparkled with delight at your annoyed expression.

"Come on and ride my cock like the good little slut you are!"

You could only shake your head and look at him stunned. But at the sight of his length lying invitingly in his hand, you climbed onto his lap and lined yourself up with him.

"Idiot", you muttered, eliciting another adorable smile from him before sinking down on his dick, eyes meeting Hans's, not breaking even as your lids fluttered wildly. You automatically grabbed his shoulders to hold on as his thick cock splits you open. He held your hips tight and helped you to guide your hips until he was completely absorbed in you. You took a few seconds to breath and get used to his length.

Then you started to move your hips and he moaned loudly as your walls wrapped around him, squeezing him and hitting deep. He leaned his head against the headboard and watched you bounce on his cock.

Your back arched, your hands were tight on his chest, and your hips pushed back as you took him to the base, feeling the head bump against the deepest part of you.

"That's it, baby," he gasped, engrossed in the sigh of his throbbing member, thrusting into your wet cunt.

His voice trembled as he felt you squeeze him as if your cunt was milking him for all he was worth. Your body melted under the sensation of him widening your walls with a delicious sting deep inside you. He watched your soft breasts bounce above him with every movement of your body. With a grip on your hips, he guided you up and down his shaft, the desperate feeling from earlier bubbling inside him as he wanted nothing but his release now.

"Faster, babe... You look so pretty riding my cock like that… Fuck… Like that“

The little whines that escaped him made your head spin. Happy to comply with his request, you quickened your pace and road him with more force. His breathing was strained and his forehead glistened with sweat, reminding you of how he looked when he was doing a performance on stage.

"That's it fuck yourself on my cock honey", he purred and started to struggle to keep his eyes open, his chest was heaving and you were a moaning mess as you were filled completely by him.

Even though he would have loved nothing more but to pound into you, you started to slowly realise that he was punishing you because of everything you had done to him today.

The game was not over and right now you were doing all the work, to satisfy him.

Just like that, he wanted to annoy you again.

You've been riding him for an eternity now, and the sound of skin slapping together mixed with wetness filled his room. You needed something to trigger both of your climaxes and you needed it quickly.

However, he was the only one who came closer to his orgasm.

He didn't touch you as greedily as you loved it. Otherwise he snapped his hips into you, hitting your sensitive spots every time, groping your tits and sucking on your skin, but now he just looked at you and enjoyed your desperate face, while realising you just couldn't do it alone. You needed him more than anything.

Suddenly you felt his length swell inside you and already his eyes rolled back and his mouth hung open as he cum inside you with a loud whimper of your name and you felt his warm load deep painting your walls. Your muscles were already tired, but you craved the liberating high so much that you pushed your lower lip forward and leaned your forehead against his neck, out of breath, while his cock twitched inside you.

"Make me come Ji!", you requested and he stroked both hands down your back to your waist where he drew circles on your hip bone with his thumb.

"You didn't think I'd let you get away with that cheeky behavior today, did you?", he murmured in your ear, before he kissed your earlobe and you could clearly hear the smug grin from his tone. Slowly, you raised your head and looked directly at him again. His dick still balls deep stretching your walls and teasing the hot mess between your thighs.

His eyes glistened from the adrenaline of the orgasm and his hair framed his handsome face like a cloud.

Still, you wanted to smack him in the face.

"Are you serious?", you asked, clenching your hands into fists at his chest.

He tilted his head a little, smiling and looking so beautiful that you had to pause for a moment.

"You gonna come untouched or you not gonna come at all", he replied and everything inside you screamed for release. Your body needed that orgasm, otherwise you were going to die, you were sure of it.

"What the fuck Hannie! Just because I teased you a little?", you said, feeling the heat rush around inside you as his dick was still buried deep inside you.

He leaned forward a bit and kissed you intensely. Still against your lips, he murmured:

"Beg for it!"

"What?"

His hands continued to stroke your ass, pinching it briefly to tease you further.

"If you want me to make you come, beg for it!“

"No way!", you said quickly. Your stubbornness wouldn't let him win the game. He had you right where he wanted and you almost had to admire him for his tactical talent.

"You know how to make me come. So do it already!", you said irritably and rolled your hips against his, eliciting a clipped gasp from him.

"I'm not letting you finsih until you say please", he chirped, pushing a strand of hair behind your ear.

You glared at him with a dangerous glint, but he just enjoyed being superior to you. How he would have loved to fuck you until the whole building knew his name, but the look on your face was worth it.

"You win, Hannie", you said suddenly and climbed off his lap.

Completely perplexed, with his eyebrows drawn together, he watched you pick up his shirt from the floor and pull it over your head. Then you grabbed one of his boxers from his closet and with your clothes under your arm, you ran to the door.

Han was completely confused and sat on the edge of the bed.

"Y/N? What-"

"If you won't do it, I will get off by myself. Or ask one of the other members...", you shouted unbothered, already halfway down the hallway with the open door in your hand, slamming it shut. You had to keep your serious expression with all your might, because in reality you just wanted him and nothing else at the moment. And all of him, but you wouldn't make it that easy for him.

So you left him with his confused face and slipped out into the hallway, walked through the living room to get to your room, and were eyed by seven pairs of eyes while passing.

Chan and Jeongin were standing in the kitchen while the rest were in the living room eating the pizzas.

They had all heard your last sentence and the conversations had immediately died down. They followed you with their gazes as you raced to your room in Han's clothes and before you reached the door, you could hear Changbin calling out:

"I can help you with that if you want, doll."

But you threw the door shut behind you and threw yourself on your bed. You buried your face in your pillow and groaned in annoyance.

Why was it so exhausting, yet so damn hot at the same time to mess around with Jisung? Something about him drove you insane and turned on at the same time.

You rolled onto your back stared at the ceiling and pulled the collar of his shirt over your nose. Then you inhaled deeply smelling his cologne on the fabric.

It was intoxicating and you automatically closed your eyes as his own scent of a fragrant garden in the summer morning sun mixed with irresistible tangy freshness clouded your mind.

His smell was as extravagant as he was and made you addicted to get more of it. You looked up when suddenly your door was yanked open and Han stood before you in nothing but boxers.

"What do you...?"

But that was as far as you got.

"Shut up and spread your legs! Now!"

With these words, he knelt in front of you and took off his boxers from you.

Astonished, you let him pull you by the waist to the edge of the bed until his face was hovering right in front of your core.

"What changed your mind?", you asked, and the feeling of excitement in your belly made you smile broadly as he looked up at you.

"You really think I'd let you touch yourself when I'm around? I would never let that happen. Fuck I love your pussy. Want to eat you out so bad", he mumbled and encircled your thighs with his hands as you got wet again just from his words.

"Lay down! I'm gonna take care of that pretty pussy", he said and you let yourself fall onto your back.

Already you felt him placing gentle kisses right next to your cunt and finally right on your lips. You whimpered softly as everything inside you was on fire. Finally he gave you what you wanted and he was so good at it. So good that you ran one hand through his hair as he started licking through your folds and immediately your pussy pulsated.

He circled your clit with his tongue and sucked on the bud of nerves until you gasped his name. His tongue ran the length of your pussy, lapping up the dripping wetness of your arousal, before swirling around and then moving to suck your clit back between his plump pink lips. Your hands had found themselves tangled in his hair, needing something to ground yourself as you found your head swimming with pleasure.

"Oh, my god", you gasped as he sunk his tongue into you and he clawed his hands tighter into your thighs to keep them apart.

He was tasting you as though he was a man starved, the rumbling vibrations of his moans and groans sending shivers down your spine.

Just your taste and the little sighs that carried his name across your lips as you pulled his hair with one hand made him instantly hard again. Every flick of his tongue was controlled, his only goal was your pleasure. His fingers dig into one of your thighs, and the feeling of your hips twitching against him drove him insane, even like the smell of your sweet puffy lips all spread out for him, the cum dribbling down his chin and your pussy clenching against his mouth.

For a moment he detached his mouth from your throbbing cunt and looked at you through your legs.

You had rarely seen anything more beautiful.

His hair fell into his eyes, which sparkled like gems, and his mouth and chin shone from your slick.

"I could live between your thighs. Promise me never to touch you yourself when I'm around. I'll do that for you."

You shifted your hips forward, missing his mouth against your cunt.

"Don't stop, Hannie!," you cried breathlessly and squirmed on your sheets, wiggling your hips against his face. He hummed aroused, seeing you so desperate and greedy for him. You could barely stand the loss of contact and looked down at him.

He gave you so much pleasure that after one look into his puppy eyes you gave him what he wanted.

"Please Ji... Please make me come! Please, please, Hannie!"

Because of your begging, his cock became unbearably hard and twitched impatiently in his boxers. He could do this for hours all day and everyday, your cunt was his heaven.

"Holy shit..." he whispered and couldn't take his eyes off you. He had teased you, but hearing you beg now really had an effect on him and his body that he could never describe. Immediately he wanted to give you everything. An orgasm, pleasure and the whole damn world right along with it.

"Please... I need you so bad right now. I'm begging you, babe!", you breathed softly as you cupped his face.

Right away, he got back to work. Only this time he fucked you with his fingers and tongue, worked your clit with his thumb and soon you were seeing stars. You threw your head back, tugged on his hair as you grinded against his face.

He groaned against you, reaching down to touch himself through his boxers. You turned him on so much that he almost came in his boxers for the second time.

In a fluid motion he threw your legs on his shoulders and you crawled your nails in the sheets with the hand that did not pull his hair.

"Ji... Ji... Oh god. I'm gonna..."

With one last swipe of his tongue and his thumb rubbing on your clit, you were pushed over the edge, legs shaking around his head as he continued to move his tongue against you to savor your high to the last second.

You fell apart and the world around you faded into a bright white.

When you next opened your eyes, you were still lying on your back, but Jisung was beside you, stroking your cheek soothingly. He had his head propped up on his hand and was watching you with a satisfied smile.

"Welcome back," he said, and you tried to blink away the blurred vision in confusion.

"What happened?", you asked, confused, straightening up a bit.

"You squirted all over my face. It was so fucking sexy."

A confused laugh escaped you paired with a loud exhale and you ran your hands through your hair. You rolled onto your side as well and you just looked into each other's eyes for a few seconds, grinning.

"You begged", he teased and you buried your face into your pillow, embarrassed.

"I hate you", you muttered, but it was obvious you didn't mean a word of it. You lifted your gaze slightly again to look at him.

"I just wanted to reward you."

"Whatever. You begged. I won", he said smugly, pulling you closer by the waist to plant a kiss on your chest. You playfully pushed him away with one hand, causing him to fall on his back and look at the ceiling, giggling.

That's when you noticed the tent in his boxers. He was still completely hard and you automatically licked your lips at the thought of his pretty dick.

"I guess now it's my turn to return the favor", you said in a dark tone and climbed on top of him with one knee between his legs.

Wide-eyed, he watched you pull down his boxers and take hold of his painfully tense length without hesitation. He exhaled audibly and his head fell against the headboard as you slowly began to move your hand up and down his shaft.

As you did so, you kissed his chest and lightly bit into his skin until he hissed loudly.

His hands flew to your breasts and squeezed them as if he had to hold on somewhere and his pouted lips were so cute that you couldn't stop looking at his handsome face, while palming him.

You let your hand move faster and faster over his length and his eyes rolled back as the perceptions overtook him. Your wet mouth on his chest wandering up to his neck, nibbling on his heated skin and your fine fingers around his throbbing cock was enough to bring on his orgasm. Your soft, small hands were so much better than his own. Just the sight of your elegant fingers with those pretty red nails wrapped around its thick length were enough to make him whimper and pout like a puppy.

You massaged his balls with your other hand and he gripped your breasts harder.

"Fuck... babe... Your hands are so soft... So good", he moaned with a strangled whimper. With one hand, he brushed a strand of hair from your face and ran his index and middle fingers down to your bottom lip.

You opened your mouth and began to suck them all in your mouth. You could see his eyes light up and his dick trembled in your hands. It was almost adorable how he melted under your hands and was all yours.

He began to buckle his hips into your hand and when his movements began to stutter, you knew he was about to come. You sucked on his fingers again before letting them go with a pop and tilting your head a little.

"Where do you want it, Hannie?", you asked with a smile that was way too sweet for the fact that you just gave him the best handjob of his life.

"Into your mouth. I want to cum onto your tongue!"

So you slid down until your lips hovered just before his tip. As you did so, you gave a little more pressure along his length until his hands clawed desperately at the sheets. He watched every move and soaked up the sight. You licked at the tip of his painfully hard dick and his head almost exploded when you looked straight at him.

Everything in him was looking forward to feeling your mouth around his cock, but just before the redemptive orgasm could wash over him, you slowed the movement of your hand, looked up at him through your long lashes, and said in a challenging tone:

"Beg for it!"

The expression on his face was frozen. His mouth was open and the realization that you had manipulated him made him panic. That brief moment was enough for you and as soon as you grinned broadly, you heard his breathing resume.

"Just kidding, babe", you said with satisfaction in your voice and moved your hand again with the intensity that made him break apart. You licked along his entire length and tightened your grip until he whimpered your name.

After a few more thrusts, he gasped:

"Open your mouth!"

His thick cock leaking and throbbing so bad he was on the verge of seeing stars. You opened your mouth, he grabbed your hair and pushed his cock into your mouth until it bumped the back of your throat.

You bobbed your head a few more times and he scrunched up his face, as his brain stopped functioning. He jerked your head back and you stuck your tongue out.

"Oh god. Oh fuck, fuck...", he stuttered dazedly.

He came on your tongue with a naughty moan and the sight of his cum on your lips and tongue made his whole body prickle.

"Swallow it!", he instructed, continuing to hold your hair to watch you swallow it all down.

As he slowly recovered from his high, he let go of you and cupped your checks with both hands to pull you up to him. His lips collided with yours and he kissed you so hard he could still taste himself on you.

"You're a goddess", he whispered against your lips between kisses and you brushed your fingertips over his abs. You both paused for a moment without pulling away from each other when there was a knock at the door.

"If you're done with your weird sex fight, come on out! We made pizza for you guys. Channie thinks you should eat something", you heard Seungmin at the door and both of you snorted at the same time.

„It's all good. Just had a whole meal", Han chuckled and you nudged his side with a loud breath.

"Freaks...", you heard Seungmin say as he walked away and you fell on your backs next to each other, holding your stomachs from laughing. Once you calmed down and got your breath back a little, he turned his head and looked at you.

A few strands of hair fell into his forehead as he did so.

"Are you hungry?", he asked, and you smiled.

As you reached out your hand and brushed the strands of hair out of his forehead, you felt your stomach growl at the mention of food.

Actually you didn't eat all day.

"Yeah. Like crazy."

"Good, because so am I", he smiled and took your hand before you could pull it back to kiss each of your knuckles.

You straightened up and he slipped back into his shirt and boxers that you'd stolen from him.

You threw on a hoodie and some Pyjama-bottoms.

At the door, Han held you once more, took your face in his hands, and looked so deeply into your eyes that your legs softened again.

"Let's repeat that soon. That was fun."

You rolled your eyes, but laughed heartily. That's when he spread little kisses on your forehead, your cheeks, your chin. Everywhere he reached a patch of skin, he littered you with kisses and you squinted your eyes, giggling, and trying to push him away a little, overwhelmed by his excessive love attack.

"Come on! Let's eat something!", you laughed, and that's when he let go of you.

You slipped out of the room before him and tried to get to safety when you felt him close behind you, but he was faster. He slapped you on the ass and chased you, making you squeal loudly and run into the living room where you threw yourself to safety in Chan's arms.

"Finally!" sighed Minho, pushing two plates of steaming pizza towards you.

Han dropped down on the floor next to Jeongin and grabbed one of the pieces, which smelled tempting. Your mouth immediately watered and you grabbed one as well, biting into it with relish.

Both of you glowed with energy and it was obvious where all that playfulness came from.

"Did you make up?" asked Changbin, looking up from his phone.

„Of course they did. Don't you smell the heavy scent of sex that surrounds them?", Hyunjin asked and went to the kitchen to get something to drink.

You just grinned as you chewed and Han winked at you across the table.

"We were just chilling", he said jokingly.

"We could hear that", Hyunjin muttered and put a can of coke in front of each of you, while Felix looked back and forth between you with amusement.

"How can you have so much energy? After such a day?", asked Jeongin shaking his head and yawning loudly.

"You two are really alike. You know that?", said Chan amusedly, running his hand under your hoodie to stroke your back while you leaned forward to shove the pizza into your mouth.

Immediately, you both frowned, with big eyes and mumbled in sync with your mouth full:

"No way!"

For a moment you stared at each other, puzzled, then laughter erupted around you.

->Part 21

——————————————————————-

Taglist (closed):

@poisonivy21 @elizalabs3 @chartrucewhore @smutlemononeshot @hgema @bookwyrm28 @jeongchaos @jihanlovic @comingupwithacoolnameishard @marked-unknown @yuhjoeyuh @bakedlilgoonie @itstorimf @toomuchtellyneck @ana-stasssiaaa @galaxypox @n034sy @amara-mars @purple-bell @amararosesblog @tori719 @rindomo @freakinthesheets-excelexcel @crazyllamasurfer @luunaruwu @mariegalea @kimseungminsprincess @julciaqwerty @officialshania @whore4stucky9104 @foxinnie8 @i-dont-know-me-either @sirenthalia @mixling-blog @httpsmultifandom @hyunlixwife @eastleighsblog @tzalethhwang @queenofdragons12 @fixation-dump @midsoulz @emmxxsworld @scarletrosesposts @jinniespuppy @minervasystem @hyunlixsbbygirl @3rachasninja @cuddlethebear @sinforsuccubus @sweetpeas-serpent-princess

398 notes · View notes

ofstarsandvibranium · 8 months

Note

if it’s not too much to ask (🥺) could you do a reader who’s best friends with Colin and he teases her about her crush on Jamie and tries to get them together? If not, NO WORRIES. Your stuff is so 🥰

(this ended up being a lot longer than I intended...whoops!)

You and Colin grew up together. You were two peas in a pod, the thickest of thieves. You knew everything about each other. You were the first person he told when he realized he was gay. He was the first person you told after you had your first kiss. You're each other's platonic soulmates.

As such, you're always trying to help each other in regards to your dating lives. When he told you about Michael, you were excited to see your best friend finally found his person. Michael was amazing and you two clicked instantly, to Colin's relief.

Your love life? Weeeell...

Colin and Michael were expecting you since twenty minutes prior, you texted them: THIS DATE SUCKS. IM COMING OVER.

So you're now sitting on Colin's couch in between the couple.

"So what happened this time?" Colin asks.

"All he talked about was football, specifically West Ham," that got Colin groaning, "He also looked my Instagram up and saw the pictures of you and I. Asked if we dated in the past, if you'd be able to get him tickets to the next Richmond versus West Ham game."

"You know you can archive the pictures of us so people-"

"No. I'd never do that to you, Col. It's like I'm ashamed of you and I'm not."

Colin gives a small smile and nod of appreciation, "Thanks, babe."

"Maybe you can set her up with one of your teammates," Michael suggests.

A lightbulb went off in Colin's head and you immediately said, "Don't."

"He's available."

"It'll be weird!"

"No, it won't!"

"Isn't he a dickhead?"

"Not as much anymore!"

Michael waved in front of you and Colin, "What's going on?"

You groan, hiding your face in your hands, "Kill me."

Colin snickers, "Y/N's celebrity crush before I got into the league was Jamie Tartt. When she found out he was being lent to Richmond, she freaked out. Made a complete fool of herself by tripping in front of him and getting a bloody nose."

"Ooohh. That's pretty bad." Michael says, wincing.

"It was so mortifying!" you cry out, "There's no way he'd want to date me after that disaster!"

"He might not even remember it," Colin says reassuringly.

"I don't want to risk it," you turn to Michael, "Michael, tell him it's a bad idea."

Michael looks to his boyfriend, "Do you vouch for Jamie?"

Colin nods, "I do, actually. He's completely turned his act around. He can still be a prick sometimes, but it's not as bad as it was when he first joined the team."

Michael focuses back on you, "You should go for it."

You immediately stand up, "Nope. I'm not making myself out to be a fool again. No thanks! I'm out!"

_____________________

"Hey, Jamie," Colin rushes up to Jamie as he exits his car.

Closing the door behind him, Jamie responds, "Yeah, mate?"

"You're not seeing anyone right?"

"No," Jamie replies with furrowed brows, look of confusion.

"My best friend, Y/N, she's beautiful, funny, and smart and think you and her would be a great match." Colin holds out his phone, showing Jamie a really great candid picture of you that he took when you two went to dinner months ago.

Jamie nods at the picture. You were, indeed, very beautiful. The way the sun hit your skin made you look angelic, "She's...nice."

Colin rolls his eyes, "One date. That's all I ask."

"Why me though?" Jamie still looks a bit confused, "Why not Bumbercatch or Isaac?"

"I just think you and Y/N would fit really well. She's been having a rough time with dating so I figured you'd show her how she should be treated."

To be fair, Jamie was thinking about getting back into the dating scene. He finally got over Keeley, accepting that they'd just be better off as friends. You seemed like a decent person, from the few things Colin mentioned. Might as well, right?

"Fuck it. Sure."

Colin fist bumped the air, "Yes! You won't regret it. I'll make the plans. You just show up."

"Yeah, yeah, alright."

_______________

You show up to Ola's, a place you've been to before. As soon as you walk in, Colin and Michael are there.

"I need to preface this and say you can't be mad at me," Colin says.

You narrow your eyes at him, "What did you do?"

"It'll be fine. I promise. Michael and I will be on the other side of the restaurant if you need anything, but you won't, because it'll be great."

"But if it goes wrong, it was definitely all his doing," Michael says, pointing to Colin.

Colin grimaces, "Thanks, babe." He takes your hand and leads you towards the back corner where Jamie fucking Tartt was sitting.

You immediately give Colin a look and he pushes you towards him, murmuring, "It'll be fine!"

You slowly approach the table and Jamie looks up, giving you a polite smile as he pockets his phone.

"Hi, I'm Jamie," he offers his hand out.

"I know," you say as you shake his hand, "I'm so sorry Colin roped you into this. You really don't have to be here if you don't want to."

He shrugs, "It's fine. Been meanin' to get back into the dating game. Besides, if things don't really work out, we get free dinner and drinks out of it, yeah?"

Your brows shot up, "Colin's paying?"

Jamie nods, "He said he would."

You smirk and gesturing for a server. He smiles at you, "Would you like to start with drinks?"

You nod, "Yes, we'll have your most expensive bottle please."

It's now Jamie's brows that shoot up and he looks at you in surprise. When the server leaves to get the drinks, you lean in and said, "It's payback," you sigh as you sit down.

"So...you weren't too keen on going on a date with me then?" he asks awkwardly.

You suddenly look mortified, "No, no! That's not it at all it's-I-ugh!" you slump back in your chair. You let out a deep breath and sit up again, "Alright, so I believe two years ago, you and I actually met before and I made a complete fool out of myself because I tripped and ate the pavement. I busted my lip, there was lots of blood. Not a pretty sight or a cool thing to do in front of your celebrity crush."

Jamie smirks, "I'm your celebrity crush?"

You sit there in silence, mentally cursing yourself and Colin for making you go through this embarrassment again. You stand, "Right, okay, I've embarrassed myself enough. I'm leaving."

Jamie rushes to a stand, "No, please, don't. I'm only teasin' ya. It's nothin' bad, I promise. You're-You're very cute when you're flustered."

"Thanks," you murmur.

Luckily, the server came back with the most expensive bottle of wine. As soon as he poured your glass, you began downing it. Jamie watches you in amusement.

"Sorry, I just need some liquid courage to get through this."

Jamie leans forward, resting his arms on the table, "How about this, we just forget who I am for tonight. I'm not Jamie Tartt, the most amazing striker in the league. Just Jamie, a nervous lad on a date with a beautiful girl."

"You're nervous?" you ask in shock.

He shrugs, "It's been a while since I've gone on a proper date. Kinda forgot how to do this sort of stuff."

"Pft, I've gone on many dates and so far, you're the best one."

"Yeah? Tell me about 'em."

And that's how dinner goes. Over another glass and eventually over some food, you tell Jamie about your past dates. He tells you about some ridiculous things he's done with the guys when Coach Lasso was around. It was nice. It was nice knowing that Jamie wasn't here because he wanted to get close to Colin. He was there because he wanted to. You assumed he was interested in you by the way he flirted with you throughout the nice. So maybe this wasn't such a bad thing after all.

Once dinner was over, Colin came over with a pout, "Did you guys really have to order the most expensive items here?!"

"That's what you get for tricking me like that," you boop his nose and Michael snickers as he weaves his fingers through Colin's.

"But it went alright, yeah?" he looks at you and Jamie.

"I'd say so," Jame puts his hand on your lower back, "We're, uh, actually gonna head to a pub for more drinks."

"Oh! Well, uh, I think Michael and I will head on home then."

You don't want to give Colin the satisfaction just yet, so you say, "I'll text you later when I'm home."

"Sounds good," he says and pulls at Michael's hand, "Let's go, babe."

Looking over his shoulder, Michael gives you a wink and a thumbs up.

You snort and then turn to Jamie, "Ready?"

"Whenever you are, love." and you two head out onto more drinks, more talking, and, hopefully, more dates after this.

#jamie tartt imagine #jamie tartt x reader

224 notes · View notes

luveternals · 5 months

Text

paring: TF141 x male reader. rating: mature, MDNI. cw: (heavy stuff guys, I think) violence, death, implied suicide, failed suicide attempt, implied temporary death, morally grey reader, insanity, immortality, not a poly (lol too possessive irl for it, sorry). this story is... mostly just angst and mainly not finished (meaning possible serie? Idk). a/n: took me an eternity bc I didn't know who to write for... nice. Anyway, status update for steven grant x reader is scheduled for next week(Nov 30th). y'all went mad for it while I said I wasn't sure about it! lmao (psst, I approve) ~ ~ ~

When all sensations and feelings get ripped away from you, you realize that the wait is worse than pain.

And it grows more and more unbearable the longer years go by.

Wander the city without destination. Expect that cursed urge that comes yanking at your insides and guiding your body like a puppet. Never be sure when it'll come, but know that it will. At the start, it was nothing but a growing emptiness carving itself deep inside you, but now it’s become an insatiable hunger that never seems to leave you alone.

And when that urge eventually comes, it's worse than the wait.

The knowledge that you are finally about to fill the emptiness as you follow whatever it is that it’s tagging you along. The realization that you are nothing but a selfish bastard who is letting his greed guide his very being.

All at the simple price of a stole life.

You stand on the edge of the roof and peer into the streets below.

The longer you wait the more you feel like you’re fading away, and the deeper the hunger grows. And so here you are, jumping over the edge and glading down through the air like a leaf falling off a tree. Your feet brush against the pavement without a sound as you land at the mouth of the alley, the breeze blowing louder than your presence.

Deep into the alley, a man presses his back against the farthest wall, terror blurring his gaze as he grits his teeth. One of his arms hangs limply against his side while the other presses against his stomach over the nasty slash sipping blood into the fabric of his tunic. His eyes jump from the approaching thugs blocking every escape to the sword he’s lost somewhere near the entrance of the alley. It lays at your feet, useless.

The stench of death grows stronger the larger the stain of dripping blood grows under him. You creep closer, waiting.

“Sorry, pal,” one of the attackers says, a nasty grin tagging at his lips, “it’s you or us, y’know. Gunna be luckier next time, ay?” he raises both his arms over his head and brings his sword down onto his victim wih a final ‘whoosh’.

Blood splatters into the wall and the thieves are onto the body before it can even fall onto the ground, ripping at its belongings like vultures. It takes them less than a minute and soon they dart out of the alley cackling and whooping.

You stand over the body, staring at the despair frozen into its expression for what seems an eternity. Then you crouch down and lower yourself over it. A shriek cuts through the air but you are too far gone to care for it. Your body feels heavier as your soul sinks lower, bones and flesh latch into your very being. You let yourself go, ignoring all sounds that break the still silence surrounding you and all voices that echoe inside your head.

What if this is another failure? What if this is actually not possible?

You try to open your —his— eyes, but the lids are heavy and when you finally do open them, your vision is blurred. There is someone staring down at you, their hand slapping at your face to keep you awake. “—hear me? Help is on the way, but you need to stay awake.” Their voice is muffled, as if trying to talk to you through water, but their concern is palpable even for your half-conscious brain.

You grin at them.

You did it.

You’re alive!

They've gotten good at it, you'll give them that. It hasn't been a month yet and they've already found you.

Granted, it's gotten challenging to stay hidden for longer than a few weeks before your needs start to mess with your head.

You're running, slipping through the crowd with delirious laughter. Adrenaline pumps through your veins, and you watch the helicopter follow your every move.

You won't be able to hide. You're trapped, and they know.

You shove a man out of your way, jump over the railing and land on the sidewalk below with a roll.

They've blocked the traffic and redirected it to keep any car or vehicle from running your way.

“They're learning,” you grin and glance over your shoulder, making sure they can see your expression. “Let's see how much, though.”

You push forward and rush your way to the other side of the road to the railing of the bridge. It's a fall of over fifty meters. This body will not survive the impact with the water below.

You're at the railing when something stabs into your side and an electric current sends your senses to overdrive.

You wake up hurting. And it's one of the most intense pain you've experienced so far. But before you can scream at it, numbness spreads through your body, and all your senses grow muddled.

You can't move. You can't feel. Only see and hear, though even those are muffled.

It reminds you how it is to not have a body and not be able to do anything about it.

It's worse than the pain.

The second time you wake, you're sitting in a chair, head hanging and limbs restrained with more chain than it's probably strictly necessary.

The numbness is gone and you let yourself let out the softest sigh of relief.

There's a camera blinking at you from a corner of the ceiling and you let a smirk cut through your expression. It's sharper, meaner than you usually would give your hunters. But the memory of numbness they put you through sends phantom tingles to the end of your fingertips, and you can't find it in yourself to be anything but nasty right now.

There's an ugly, useless table made of metal before you, and you don't even stop yourself from rolling your eyes at it.

Right. At least they're not some mad scientist cutting you open to study how you work. Not that they'd find anything useful really.

The door past the table opens and your captures finally make their entrance.

“Is this how you make friends?” you says, leaning back into a lazy slump, despite the restraints, to stare at them as they move deeper into the room. “You electrocute them and tie them up with a nice, little steel ribbon?”

They're all wearing full masks (skulls, how fitting) and gear, covering most of their features besides the more obvious. Their height and the like.

It doesn't bother you. You're not here to familiarize with them, but it would have been nice to see the faces of those who've finally managed to catch you and lock you up.

“Have you no shame?” one of them says, but his tone doesn't betray his true emotions. He sits on the chair opposite yours and folds his hands in front of him, resting his arms onto the table.

There's four of them, the ramain three spread around the tiny room. Standing by the door or looming over your shoulder like a creep.

“You steal the faces of others and make whatever you want of their lives.”

“So? They are dead. Like it or not, they won't miss their lives since they'd already found a new one on the other side.”

There's nothing to hide here. They're simply trying to guilt trip you. Everyone knows what you are, and the world has been alerted about your existance. It's just that they've never managed to catch you.

What you do might be cruel to some. But to you, it's the only option you have to live.

Your 'victims' — as everyone so loves to call them — are already dead by the time your soul replaces theirs. You have never killed anyone but yourself and consequentially their empty body. But you have never taken the live of another to make it yourself with your own hands.

All you are doing is trying to keep your head above a water that is a life with no ability to feel. Sensations and emotions both. All you are doing is keeping from losing yourself to madness.

Is it too much to ask?

“They might be dead. But you're hurting those you love and care for them.” the man says, “dying isn't the problem. You are not the one hurting. Those who you leave behind, they are the ones to really suffer.”

The words are like a sword through the heart, sharp and incessantly slow as it sinks in. You hang your head and grit your teeth. “Shut up.”

Laughter echoes into your ears.

“Shut up!” the chains rattle and strain when you throw yourself forward. They leave angry bruises on your skin.

“This is not the end,” he smiles and cups your face, his frail, trembling hands passing through your cheeks as he forgets himself. “this— you'll find a way when you're ready. And I'll see you on the other side.”

~ ~ ~ reblog, comment and/or follow if you like what I write. please and thank you. without feedback I don't have a reason for keeping this blog alive, since I created it so I can practice my writing.

#story day #tf 141 #x top male reader #cod mw2 #top male reader #dom male reader #cod x reader #male reader #reader insert #x reader #cod mwii #cod #tf 141 x reader

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folkloresthings · 8 months

Note

Hi love! Congrats on 1k

Can i request PRIDE AND PREJUDICE - with Lando and Meddle About by Chase Atlantic? Thank you!

MEDDLE ABOUT. ❨ lando norris x reader ❩

✩⡱ warnings: some smut whoops. this was also much sadder than i meant it to be

the alcohol in your veins was buzzing when you first laid eyes on lando, but not nearly enough to cloud the notion that he was gorgeous. tunnel vision, through the crowd of drunken club—goes, a magnet pulling one to the other. he was sweaty, forehead glistening from partying too hard, and his sheer white shirt showed up everything you needed to see.

“hi,” he mouthed, the music too loud to actually hear him. a smirk pulled through the word while his eyes raked over your frame. “can i buy you a drink?”

you’d barely gotten two sips of the vodka past your lips before he was kissing you, hot and handsy. pressed against a dark corner of the bar, desperately grabbing at your ass while his tongue poked past your heavy gasps. he was intoxicating, leading you out of the sweaty club in a trance, throwing your address to a taxi driver and continuing his attack on your neck in the backseat.

you hadn’t lived in the city long, so lando had been the first boy to christen your bed, and god did he commit to the sacrament. his hands were gentle but his lips rough, buried between your legs for forty—five minutes, ensuring you had little feeling left in your body by the time he came up for air.

“look at me, baby. wanna see you fall apart,” lando had mumbled against your lips, thrusting long and slow into you. your flesh was sticking to each other, basking in the warmth of your pleasure. your mind was fuzzy when he collapsed next to you, pulling the covers over you both and cradling you close to his naked body.

when the sun rose the next morning, you’d expected to wake to a cold bed. but the heat of him suffocated you just nicely when you roused, kissing your shoulder through the last thin layer of sleep. when you managed the energy to pull yourself off of him, making you both some coffee and breakfast. he’d followed you around the apartment like a lost puppy, sneaking onto your lips at every chance he could get.

“mind if i stick around for a while?” he asked, not giving you any reason. you didn’t press, simply because you didn’t want him to leave.

the city had been lonely since you’d arrived, and it was nice to have someone for company. lando was sweet, funny, and oh so nice. he made it a little too difficult to breathe when he blinked up with those doe eyes, finding himself back between your legs at lunch and dinner.

between soft kisses and searing orgasms, you talked. talked and talked and talked, bearing your heart and souls to each other. the world was locked away outside, giving lando a chance to have a proper conversation with someone for the first time in months. he told you who he was, all about his career, every feeling he’d gone through since the start of the season.

it was three days after meeting in the club that you realised what was happening. you were falling desperately in love with lando norris and how he slotted so perfectly into your little life. he suited your bed, your shower, your old pyjama shirts that were much too big on yourself.

“i was supposed to be in belgium three hours ago,” lando groaned into your couch cushions, pulling a chuckle for you as you settled next to him with a cup of coffee. “don’t wanna go.”

silence falls over you both, the realisation raising his head to meet your gaze. three days of bliss was ending, despite your thinking that it wouldn’t happen if you just ignored it. he was a formula one driver, this couldn’t ever be something serious. just, meddling around for fun. you stared at him, eyes starting to well the longer you took him in.

“hey,” lando cooed, springing up from his slouch to gather your face into his hands. thumbs brush under your eyes, desperate to clear any sadness from your body. it doesn’t work, and only pulls lando’s own emotions to the surface.

“what happens now?” your voice shakes, lip trembling. your hands gripped the hem of his shirt, hoping if you hold on hard enough he won’t slip away.

“i don’t know,” lando whispers, eyes falling to your hands. “i won’t be back in london until christmas. you could come to monaco, though.”

complications tangled you up, building excuses for the truth of your messy situation. a three—night stand, perhaps.

“we’ll see,” lando insists by the front door, when he finally finds the courage to leave you. you look awfully small in a big shirt, looking up at him with eyes that beg him to stay. you want to lock the door and stop him from going anywhere, hold him hostage for a while longer. “wait for me?”

you nod and he kisses you, faintly. too hard and he’ll never leave. you hold onto his hand as long as you can, until he’s too far and disappearing around the corner. you wait for ten minutes, hoping he’d turn back and come running. he doesn’t. three days of having all of him to a minute of having nothing at all.

#🍾 ﹐ becca hits 1k!#🌙 ﹐ drabbles.#formula 1 imagine #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 #lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris blurb #lando norris smut #lando norris drabble #lando norris imagine

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hentyehottie · 1 year

Text

ran haitani x black fem reader

wc: 5kish

Warnings: sensual sex, fuck buddies, fem reader, black coded reader!, friends with benefits, mutual pining, slight flirting, fingering, oral sex, mentions of creampie, squirting, unprotected sex, ouid usage, pet name usage (ex. pretty, good girl, pretty girl), chubby reader (big titties, fat ass, thick thighs, fat belly, etc.), ran has commitment issues, MDNI!

notes: school was whooping my ass, that’s why this took so damn long to write 😭 thank y’all for all the help @prtttycocobuttvr @pattycakes5516 🫶🏾 💕

I hope you all enjoy!

❀

Here.

He tosses his phone in the cup holder after shooting you a text, drumming the fingers of his right hand against the center console. Droplets of rain begin to fall against the windshield and he’s hoping you bring your ass before it really gets to beating down.

You’re finally walking out and you look good. Good as hell actually, in a chocolate brown, skin tight tube dress and the brown pair of those teddy bear slippers you seem to have in every color. Half of your hair is wrapped up in a bun and the rest is flowing behind you as you speed walk to his car. There’s some kids playing football in the street and a couple of other people on their porches, probably wondering who the hell was getting picked up in such a nice car.

Surely no one expects it to be you—you barely went anywhere, but school and work, and by the way you were cheesing from ear to ear as you reached for the passenger door handle , this obviously wasn’t an Uber.

Your heart is in your stomach. This isn’t the first time he’s picked you up, but it’s the first time he’s picked you up in broad daylight. Ran notices your jean jacket is tucked away in the crevice of your left arm and the other is toting that big ass purse he wished you’d stop bringing. His room was small enough as it was and it just took up so much fucking space since you refused to sit it on the floor.

You plop down in the passenger seat immediately pulling the door closed, not wanting to hold him up any longer. You hear the gear shift and he’s driving down the expanse of your street to get back onto the main road.

“Hey! Been a while, thought you forgot about me.”

It’s been so long since he’s heard your voice. A week, week and a half maybe? He wasn’t sure if he missed seeing you or if it was just what came with seeing you, but it did feel nice to be in your presence again. The only reason he went to so long without seeing you was because he’d been so busy scouting locations for the club.

“Yeah..been busy. Stressed. My bad.”

Through his peripheral he sees you popping your AirPod into its case, dropping it into your bag. “I feel that, just finished midterms. I passed but they definitely whooped my ass.”

What were you in school for again? Bio? Nursing?

The gears are turning in his head but he’s still pulling blanks and deems it forgotten. If it comes up again, he’d probably ask tho.

It seems like he’d forgotten how pretty you were too, sneaking looks at you every chance he gets. Did you have your lashes done last time he saw you? He’s not entirely certain but he can’t help but be captivated by how fluffy they are and how they just slightly flutter against your cheeks every time you blink. That sexy vanilla perfume you like is dancing through his nostrils as you inch closer to hoop one of the straps of your bag around his headrest. “Remind me why you insist on fucking up my vehicle.”

You’d hardly call that fucking up his vehicle, but you did spill some of your sweet tea on his mat the last time he saw you and it seemed he’d never let you live it down.

“Because, a woman’s bag should never touch the floor and your fast ass driving is gonna have my shit all over the seat as soon as you hit a corner.”

As the two of you eased into the sixth month of knowing each other, you’re much more comfortable than you’d ever been with any man you’ve dealt with, but that still doesn’t stop the butterflies fluttering in your gut.

“Whenever you upgrade from your learner’s, I’ll let you drive us instead.”

He’s probably trying to be funny. It’s a nice ass car, real sleek and expensive most likely, you don’t even know what it is except that it’s a Benz. You highly doubt he’d even let you into the driver’s seat to honk the horn. “Kiss my ass, Ran. I’ll be driving before the year is out.”

“I’ll hold you to it.” His eyes are on you and he has that dreamy look on his face. The one where he cracks the tiniest little smile only for you. The one that makes it impossible to look him in the eyes cause it melts your heart and fills your tummy with the biggest butterflies. You never thought it’d get this deep between you and him, meeting him was supposed to be a social experiment. You and your friends all downloaded Tinder and the challenge was to link with the first guy you matched with.

Surprisingly, as soon as you swiped on Ran, it was a match. Not much conversing took place on the app, just small talk before you exchanged numbers and then plans to meet, chill, maybe smoke. It was so long ago and you don’t really remember all the details aside from how his skinny ass folded you up in the backseat of his car that same night. Ran gave you, hands down, the best dick of your life—choked you, spanked you, slapped you…all the kinky shit you fantasized about. Of course you fell in love.

The ride is quiet as it nears its end, music playing faintly in the background but drowned out by the heavy drizzle of the rain.

A twenty minute drive turned thirty seven, since he avoided expressways and fought with traffic. Plus he always drove the speed limit when it rained, especially with you in the car.

This isn’t the first time you’ve been to Ran’s place but it doesn’t amaze you any less every time you see it. From the floor to ceiling windows, marble tile and abstract art, the luxe apartment fits the eldest Haitani to a T. As soon as you step in, your first stop is the kitchen to wash your hands, a habit you picked up and passed on to him. After tossing your napkin you reach into your bag, passing him the Tupperware.

“I brought you some lasagna.” He’s shifting those lavender eyes down towards the pink plastic bowl then back at you again.

“Why?” It’s a genuine question and you hear no malice or sarcasm behind his tone.

“I- what? I‘m not putting woo on you, if that’s what you think, dickhead. Just had a lot left over and didn’t want to be wasteful.” You roll your eyes when he finally grabs the Tupperware from you. “Plus, it’s a peace offering for spilling the tea.”

He’s weary to take it, for whatever reason. Probably because he’s never had anyone cook for him. Or because he thinks he’ll fall for you even harder if he does. “Thanks.” Is all he says before he slides it into the fridge to keep cool.

“You act like you’re not used to people being nice to you, weirdo.”

He’s not. In his profession, he doesn’t think he’ll ever be. It’s never genuine and he knows it, why waste his time on fake love. That was before you at least, and it’s even more of a reason to stop whatever this was because seeing you has become more and more addictive and he’s in deeper than he’s ever been.

You follow him to his room like a little puppy, you know where it is but you always insist on entering only after he does. He’d done a lot of errands and running around so he’s peeling himself out of his outside clothes before sitting on the edge of his bed, eyes fixated on the TV that’s mounted to the wall. He chooses the r&b playlist you made, it’s what the two of you always use as background music.

A few feet away from him, you’re sliding out of your dress, letting it pool at your feet. The band of your thong sits high on your waist—something about not wanting a muffin-top, he remembers you saying, and he’s gripping your arm, pulling you over to him before you have the chance to pull them down. He positions you to straddle his lap, something you used to dread, in fear that you’d be too heavy for him. You’re pressed against him, the warmth of your chest against the cool skin of his.

“I missed you.” You ran your acrylics down the length of one of his braids where you begin undoing the rubberband at the end. Both braids are unraveled and the french tips of your nails are moving along his scalp. You smile when he lets out a deep sigh and his eyes roll back into his skull. “Missed you too.” He presses his lips against yours and you do the same once he’s got your attention, pressing kisses along his neck and chest. He doesn’t even mind the lipgloss on his lips and chest, thinks of it as you leaving your mark on him.

The both of you are skin to skin and everything about this is so mind boggling. Just a few weeks back you were a t-shirt warrior and an advocate for fucking in the dark, yet it only took one time—one night of Ran undressing you and kissing you from head to toe, caressing every single inch of your plush body and absolutely ravishing you in front of his full body mirror, chanting that you were beautiful until you understood.

Who could blame you for falling in love?

You want him so bad but you’ve accepted that he’ll never be yours the way you want him to be. And that’s okay because nothing else matters when he’s staring down at you like a god. Lilac eyes hooded, braids unraveled and his two-toned hair is fanned out around his face, so pretty and wavy. You’re staring back, a pillow under your knees for comfort.

His dick is big—thick and heavy, too heavy to stand on its own. It curves down gorgeously between his legs, mushroom tip beaded with pre as he grabs it. “So cute.” He breathes out, tapping his dick against your cheek and then your tongue. “Can I use you?”

You stare up at him, mesmerized by those deep pools of lavender. “You can do whatever.”

He’s lifting your braids up and away, keeping it out of your face, the scrunchie that held your bun now wrapped around his wrist. His first thrusts are nice and slow, rubbing his cock against your tongue and slowly easing towards your tastebuds. You’ve learned to breathe through your nose when he’s using your mouth like this.

Ran picks up pace and you’re gagging and drooling all over yourself. So much that you’re scooping it up and rubbing it on your nipples. He unsheathes his thick dick from your throat, cock twitching and jumping, slapping against your chin as he prolongs his orgasm. He’s enthralled by the sight you’ve become. Fat globs of tears pool at your waterline and snot runs down your nose, thick lines of frothy spit running down your chin and tits. He keeps a good grip on your hair, always makes it his duty to keep it nice and pristine when he sluts you out like this. You’re aware that you look an absolute mess and you know he fucking loves it, so much that he won’t stop staring down at you. Now your face is warm and you’re feeling bashful. “Want you to cum. Please.” Your tone is deep and sultry, yet your pleas are dipped in honey, deliciously sweet as they flood his mind.

His dick is back in your mouth, he’s moving your head slow and steady. “I’ll cum for you, pretty.”

“Oh f-uhhhh-uck.” He’s still thrusting, just a little faster, more sloppily & unhinged, feral and desperate as he fucks your throat to release. “G’nna cum for you right now.”

It isn’t long until he’s nearing his end, pulling out and giving his dick a few tugs until he’s shooting rope after rope, painting your face. You even catch some on your tongue and you’re swallowing it up as soon as he gives you your fill. You’ve learned to tolerate the bitterness and it’s much more pleasant now that you’re used to it. His toes are clenching into the carpet, his gut is tightening and the way you still wanna suck the life outta him even after he came is insane. But it feels so good to make him feel good. His hands are damn near trembling but he manages to fix your hair back into the half ponytail. Of course it isn’t as cute as when you did it, but it’ll do.

Ran uses his shirt to wipe your face for you, a little rough but very thorough, he doesn’t miss an inch so your eyebrows and the little bit of concealer you used to cover a couple of dark spots is long gone. He pulls you up into another kiss—a sloppy, messy kiss, the two of you are sucking faces like you’ll never see each other again. You don’t even realize he’s got you onto your back until he’s between your legs, sliding his fingers under the waistband of your panties. He’s peeling the damp cotton away from your folds and down the length of your legs, placing kisses against your calves as he slips the panties over your feet.

“Mine?” You know exactly what he’s asking for and you contemplate telling him no until Ran runs his warm tongue up your slit, pulling the hood back with his thumb and sucking your clit into his mouth.

“Mhm, keep em.”

His mouth morphs into a small smirk. You’d probably think he was an absolute fucking weirdo if you knew what he did with the panties he’s collected from you. His hands are trailing up your sides, resting against yours until they’re moving to place them on his head. Your nails move against his scalp, threading between those loose strands and gathering them up and out of his face.

He’s pushing your legs up higher, your thighs are pressing into your belly, knees right up under your tits. Ran was on cloud 9 right now. Every breath is filled with your scent, tongue coated in your essence as he’s licking up and down your cunt, even sticking his tongue in and fucking you with it for moments at a time.

Then he’s got two of those long, nimble fingers knuckle deep, pussy swallowing them up as he slides them deeper and clenching when he pulls them out. He’s rubbing your clit with the cream coated digits, fitting his tongue into your cunt and slurping up the wetness that leaks out, blessing you with those sloppy licks until he’s trailing lower and lower.

“Mmmfff…wait that’s my-“

He almost laughs at the squeak you let out when his thick tongue begins lathering your asshole with spit. Licking and prodding, so sloppy and slippery from your own juices running down. You taste so good, so clean and fresh and he won’t let a drop go to waste. It doesn’t feel like much to be honest but the act itself is so nasty, so profane, and it just turns you on so fucking much.

His tongue is licking and prodding at your ass, just until it gives for him, until he’s able to-.

“Fucckkkk.” You cry out in pain and pleasure. He slips a finger into your ass, lips wrapped around your clit again and you’re wondering if it’d be weird to start planning your wedding so soon.

You love how nasty he is, how he eats your pussy and ass with no issue, without you even having to ask. He does it cause he wants to. Does it cause he likes pleasing you too. You’re clenching on his finger as he fucks you with it, biting your lip to keep from letting out the most obscene of moans.

“Ran…g’nna cum.”

He pops his lips away from your clit, spitting on the bud and running his tongue around it.

“Yeah, gonna cum all over my face.”

It’s not a question, he’s certainly telling you, but you whimper out a pathetic attempt at answering him as he sucks your fat clit up between his lips again. It feels so good and you’re so sensitive that, that’s all you need to come undone. Your toes are curled indefinitely and he doesn’t let up until trickles of clear liquid flood his mouth, wetting his cheeks and the tip of his nose. Your legs are trembling in the air, buckling against his hold as you spray your release over the bottom of his face, a fountain of your essence and he tries his best to drink it all up.

Your breathing is hard, sporadic even and he doesn’t even give you a chance to catch it when he’s folding you up again, both hands at the back of your knees as he slides in slowly.

“F-fuck.” You stutter as he bottoms out, the thick tip of his cock kissing your cervix with every roll of his hips. He’s staring at you amusedly—your face is scrunched up like you wanna cry, you’re gasping for air like a fish out of fucking water, the whites of your eyes on full display. Lips parted and dry. And even still, he can’t help but think how pretty you are. How he wants to see you make that dumb little face every time he fucks you stupid.

“You love this dick?” The way Ran fucks you is so sensual, giving you those slow, deep strokes you love so fucking much. Leaning over to kiss and nip at your shoulder and jaw just like a lover would.

“F-fuck yessss…I love it..I love y-you.”

His dick is deep in your pussy, so deep it should be a sin, kissing your cervix with every single roll of his hips. It feels so forbidden—sneaky links shouldn’t fuck like this, but it’s so damn good, so dizzying you don’t even catch your mistake.

The smell of him, his voice, his sexy ass face—you’re in love with every aspect of him, everything about him.

In love with a stranger.

It’s just a slip up. That’s what he’s telling himself as he pulls out and rolls you onto your belly because staring at your pretty ass face has him wanting to cum in you and say it back. To be fair, he loves your pussy just as much. The first and only pussy he ever ate was yours and you’re the first he’s ever fucked raw.

“Good girl,” He’s got a rhythm going, and he’s stuffing you full of dick every time you throw your ass back on him. “Don’t run from it.”

He’s cooing and talking nasty as he fills you with all eight inches, telling you you’re a good girl. His good girl. His baby. His slut. And it’s fine cause you’ll be anything as long as it’s his. His thrusts are getting harder, sloppier as he nears his end. He can’t keep his hands off of your ass. Your mocha colored skin rippling against ever thrust, every slap of his heavy palm against your rear.

You think he must think he’s a fucking artist the way he enjoys painting your lovely skin with his cum. In reality, he’s marking you, laying claim over you like an absolute animal. Drips of translucent white run down your butt, settling into the dimples of your back, some running down the crack of your ass. He grabs that same shirt to clean you off, avoiding your pussy.

“You definitely did a number on me.” You turn to show him the marks on your hips. There’s more on your neck, he notices, you’ll see them once you’re in front of a mirror. His thumbs are ghosting over the faint purple bruises on your skin. He never intends to leave those marks on you, but you bruise so easily even when he thinks he’s being gentle. It’s exactly why you deserve someone who’ll treat you better, handle you better. Someone who’ll really be gentle & make love to you, since he only knows how to fuck.

“Gonna shower.” He hears you say after you gather your clothes from the floor. You gather his too and toss them into the 3-compartment hamper, separating his black pants from his grey boxers.

He doesn’t see it, and you’re glad he doesn’t. You still felt a bit iffy about the lasagna situation and you really didn’t want him to think you were overstepping your boundaries. “You brought clothes or you need something to put on?” He’s still sprawled out on the bed, arm over his eyes. The cool air has him fully softened, and you love that he’s that comfortable.

“Yeah, I packed some stuff cause I didn’t know if you’d feel like taking me back home tonight after picking me up, since I stay kinda far.”

“I would’ve.” He shrugs, finally sitting up. “But you can stay if you want.”

“Do you want me to stay?” Your back is to him, as you’re shuffling through your bag to pull out a towel, panties and the oversized shirt you brought. It’s the first time he’s ever offered you to stay at his place, but you’re hoping it’s because he wants you to, otherwise you feel like a bother.

“Sure, I don’t care.”

It’s not the answer you’re hoping for and your mood dampened. He watches as you step into the bathroom, closing the door behind you.

***

He’s slouched over the railing of the balcony, smoking and enjoying the cool air. At least, that’s what he should’ve been doing—instead his mind is moving a mile a minute, his blunt long forgotten as he gaslights himself into disregarding what you said earlier.

He knows it’s the worst thing you could’ve ever said to him and hoped you didn’t mean it, but in actuality, he loved hearing it. Loved watching your pretty lips contort to say it and couldn’t fathom the thought of hearing you say it to anyone that wasn’t him.

Ran sighs heavily as the voice in the back of his mind scolds him. He felt like he was losing his shit. It was selfish, yet uncontrollable and he couldn't help himself. You were like a drug he didn’t want to give up. But this needed to stop.

He knew it would ruin you both.

He doesn’t expect to feel you wrap your arms around him, it startles him a bit and he almost drops his blunt. “You okay? Whatcha thinking about?”

He shakes his head, offering you the joint, which you take. “Just business stuff.”

It's really you on my mind It's really you on my mind It's really you…

Frank Ocean’s voice is oozing out from the sliver of space in between the glass door and it’s frame and the irony is almost baffling, so much that he has to chuckle as he blows smoke into the cool night air.

“You ever had sex out here?” He looks over to see you on your tip toes, leaning further over the edge to see more of the view.

“You want me to fuck you out here?” He answers your question with a question, moving closer until his crotch is pressed right up against your ass.

Your skin—and the entire bathroom for that matter, smells just like vanilla, he’s wondering if you actually wear perfume or if it’s just that body wash that sticks to you so well. Either way you smell so good, so yummy that he’s dying to bend you over this balcony and run his tongue over every inch of you. Instead, he opts for pressing his face into the crook of your neck, inhaling deeply.

“Maybe.” You say after blowing smoke in the air and reaching behind until he grabs the blunt from between your pointy nails. “But it’s cold as hell out here.” In a matter of minutes it feels like the weather has dropped a couple dozen degrees and the cool wind makes it hard to keep the blunt lit. You both reside back into the bedroom and he closes the door behind the both of you, he heads to the kitchen while you settle into his bed to get some homework done.

He plops the chunk of lasagna onto a plate, sitting it into the microwave and letting it go for about a minute and thirty.

While that’s heating up, he’s washing out your bowl and turning it over in the adjacent sink to drip dry.

It’s so fucking good. He doesn’t even remember the last time he ate something home cooked. While he’s indulging in the stack of savory carbs, you have your headphones over your ears doing a case study assignment and listening to a lofi playlist. In your peripheral you see him on Tinder, and the fact that he’s sitting inches away from you, eating the lasagna you made and still swiping on bitches sours your mood even more, so much that you’re pulling your headphones off and shifting your entire body to face him.

“You still be on there?”

You don’t want to seem nosey, or delusional or whatever else somebody might call you, but your profile has been hidden for at least a month now, and the app deleted. After fucking with Ran you haven’t even thought of meeting another man.

“Here and there.” He shrugs, locking his phone and tossing it on the side table. “When I’m bored.”

“When you’re bored.” You repeat it and yup, it sounds just as absurd coming out your mouth. “Have you fucked anyone else since our little arrangement?”

“Nah, haven’t really thought about it. What’s with all the questions?” He gives you one of those slow blinks and it pisses you off even more.

“Just curious. I-I just wanna know what we are. Like, where I stand in your life, I guess.”

“From my knowledge, we’re just two people that fuck. Not really friends with benefits cause I don’t fuck friends-.” His words are like a jab in the gut.

“But you asked for friends with benefits, now we’re not friends?” “I said no strings attached, not friends with benefits.”

“No strings attached. Right.” It kills you to repeat it. “So in other words, I don’t mean shit to you.” You’re closing your laptop and swinging your legs over the edge of the bed. “Just someone you text when you wanna bust a nut, got it.”

It’s the farthest from the truth and it nearly shatters his heart to hear you utter such nonsense as he watches you stuff your belongings back into your bag. But, what exactly could he say?

He wasn’t looking for anything serious and he doesn’t fuck friends—you were in a category of your own, even if he didn’t quite know what that category was. Either way, he doesn’t expect you to react the way that you do and he considers damage control but knows he shouldn’t.

It’d just confuse the both of you, he knows it.

***

hey

yo?

???

These messages have been green and undelivered for months now. They probably will be for the rest of his life but Ran can’t bring himself to stop checking them every so often.

“Come on man, you’re still not over what’s-her-face?”

Ran, usually so sharp and alert, doesn’t even know how long his younger brother has been standing there. He just hopes not long enough to have seen him scrolling up and down your old messages. All the way up to when he asked for more photos of you since you didn’t have many on your profile. Scrolling down to where you asked for more of him and of course he didn’t have many either, but he still found himself opening up his camera to take more for you. Every ‘wyd’ or ‘I’m outside’ and every ‘drive safe.’ He read through them all, and recalls ever single moment he’s had with you. “Do you live to fucking annoy me?”

“Just saying. There’s plenty of pussy in the sea. Plenty of women too. Come on man, it’s a big night for us.” Oh how Ran loved the way life worked. Constantly putting off spending time with you to focus on the club, now the club is finally opening for its first night and he couldnt be bothered to care. He can’t get you off his mind.

“Yeah..just a couple hundred people I gotta play friendly with all damn night.” The older brother sighs. Ran’s tone is so emotionless, so dull it’s like talking to a shell of him. It kills Rindou to see that he still hasn’t gotten over whoever the hell you were.

Ran was always so secretive & Rindou is actually a little annoyed because had he known who you were he would’ve personally begged you on his hands and knees to take his brother back.

“It’ll be well worth it in the end, just tend to VIP sections, I’ll keep everyone else entertained.” The two bump fists before parting ways.

The first VIP section that catches his eye is a group of women and he assumed someone was celebrating a birthday, judging by the big metallic pink ‘25’ balloons, so of course he wants to be there one bearing the gifts. A limited edition pink bottle of Clase Azul, champagne for a toast and a bouquet of pink roses are in his hands as he makes his way to the table.

“Ladies.” He greets you and your friends. “Enjoying yourselves?”

Ran thinks he’s seeing things when his eyes meet yours, and he can’t tell if the universe is working for or against him.

You look so fucking gorgeous in your satin pink dress, it hugs your curves but slouches in all the right areas giving the illusion of wet silk draped against your body. Your makeup is beautiful, lips glossy, nails done, even your hair is sexy as hell—jet black buss down, or whatever the fuck it’s called, and it’s way past your ass. Long enough to pull. Fuck, he misses pulling your hair. He misses you.

“Beautiful bottle for a beautiful lady. Happy birthday.” He plays it cool but his heart feels like it’s about to beat out of his chest.

“Thank you.” You can feel your cheeks raising and you’re not sure if it’s because of the compliment or the free liquor. It took you months to forget about this very man only to have him catch you completely off guard on the night of your birthday. He looks good, so good you can’t help but stare. He’s stopped dyeing his hair, more of his natural black has grown out, and he has most of it pulled back in a messy high pony. He’s still into oversized clothes, donning a white shirt that was at least two sizes too big, black jeans and a flannel around his waist.

When you grab the bottle from his hand, the tips of your nails graze his hand and Ran wonders if it’s crazy to miss them running down his back too. Both of you are surrounded by your friends, guests and workers in the club but it really feels like it’s just the two of you.

He’s looking you up and down, drinking you in amongst the dim lighting and he can’t imagine how he fumbled you. He pops the bottle of champagne effortlessly, pouring you a glass and doing the same for your four friends, then himself.

“To Y/N. More life to you.”

He’s the last one you clank your glass with, your face warms up as you can feel his eyes bearing down on your as you finally take your first sip. Sweet and bubbly is how you’d describe it, most champagne’s are too dry for your liking, that much he remembers.

“Can we talk?”

Even after sharing some of your most intimate moments with him, it still felt like talking to a stranger.

“Sure.”

You tell your friends you’ll be back and then he’s leading you through the long corridor to a lavish office. This is Ran we’re talking about so you wouldn’t expect anything less.

“Been a while.” He speaks after closing the door behind the both of you. Ran hates small talk, yet here he is trying his best to spark up a conversation with you. In the fluorescent lighting he notices you’ve lost weight too, hopes it’s cause you wanted to and not stress or anything like that. “Didn’t know today was your birthday.”

“You didn’t care to remember. I would’ve never guessed you owned this club.” You sigh, leaning against his desk, shifting your weight off of your feet. These heels were cute as hell but they were literally murder on your ankles and the balls of your feet. “How have you been?”

It was his turn to sigh. “I don’t know, just been busy with the club, it was keeping me distracted. Keeping you off my mind.” If Ran wasn’t anything else, he was always honest, especially with you.

Silence. The silence is smothering the both of you in unresolved tension and it only gets thicker as you contemplate what to even say to that. “Why would I be on your mind?”

“What? You’re always on my mind. Every time I think about you, I fucking miss you. But I know I fucked up so-“

“No, you did nothing wrong, nothing at all. When we first started messing around we agreed to no strings attached, no I love you’s, no feelings. But I fucked all of that up and I fell for you..and you didn’t catch me.” You twiddled with your thumbs, knowing when he asked to ‘talk’ this was coming sooner or later. “I wanted you so bad I was fine just being your friend, but to know I wasn’t even that, it hurt. It hurt so bad I thought I’d never get over you, until I realized that I was settling.”

He’s taken aback to say the least. “Settling? I made you feel like you were settling? What was it that I didn’t have? That I didn’t give you? Money, status?”

His expression is shocked, crazed even, and it feels so good to get some kind of emotion out of him other than indifference. But, you’re past this phase, and you no longer wanted to be involved with him romantically. Probably not even sexually to be honest. “Have I ever asked you for money, Ran?”

Truthfully, you were probably the only woman he’s dealt with that didn’t ask him for money.

“You never asked me for anything. How would I know what you wanted?” By now he felt defeated, pathetic, like he was pleading and you weren’t hearing him.

“When you find the girl that’s for you, that special girl, she won’t even have to ask.”

He feels like it’d be crazy to admit that he thinks you’re that girl. That he knew you were special since the first night he met you. That he was just afraid of commitment and that’s why he pushed you away.

This wasn’t like losing a friend, no, he knows that far too well. This was like losing a lover. A foreign feeling and he’s not entirely sure why, but it hurts. It hurts so bad.

You prop your arms on his shoulders, reaching a hand behind him, looping one of your fingers around his hair-tie and slipping it out. He makes no move to stop you as his hair falls around his face, a curtain of black and gold. “Still so pretty.” You place your hands on either side of his face, soft fingertips running against his milky skin. It’s like you’re teasing him with those gentle gestures, only to rip his heart out in the end.

“Take care, Ran.”

There’s burning in his throat and he wants to scream. To punch something.

But you’re smiling up at him so cutely and he’s given no choice but to crack a fake smile for you too as he pulls you into his arms for the last time.

Is this closure? Is it supposed to make him feel worse than he would’ve had he chose to not speak to you at all? Is this how you felt?

In the end, he can’t even be mad. He wasn’t ready, but he had no clue how much it’d hurt when you didn’t wait for him. He squeezes you tighter and wants to hold you, feel you, even smell you just a little bit longer, but he hears a knock on his door and he knows it’s time to free you. To free himself from the shackles you kept around his heart whether you knew it or not.

“Take care, y/n.”

❀

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