hii! would you write smut for john q/simon from dinner in america? thanks🫶
A Track Called Desire
sub!john q x f!reader
word count: 1.8k
warnings: NSFW, smut, p in v, no protection, cumming inside, slight choking, sub john q!!, slapping, permission to cum, reader has a vagina.
You first met Simon, the lead singer of the band Psyops, at a show in the city months ago. You'd been standing in the back, nodding to the reckless riffs and energy-poring off the stage. He was magnetic, a sensual tension pulling you toward the man in a ski mask and ripped jeans. His scowl could cut glass. You never thought you would see him again, let alone in your town.
Yet here he is, slouched behind the counter at Vinyl Frontier, flipping through an old, dog-eared magazine with the same signature scowl and a cigarette dangling dangerously from the corner of his mouth. You're not even sure why you're here — boredom, maybe? — but the sight of him standing there made your pulse race in a way you've never felt before.
You browse the punk section, dragging your fingers along the worn-out spines of the albums you've seen a hundred times. You can feel his eyes burning through the back of your head, sharp and assessing, as you pull out a Psyops record you hear a low voice cutting through the low hum of the store's speakers behind you.
"Shitty record you got there"
You glance up at the rugged man, arching an eyebrow, "Yeah? heard the lead singer is a real pain in the ass." still shuffling through the records.
"You don't know half of it," he gives you a slight smirk while tapping his cigarette ash onto the dirty floor. "The name's Simon, if you have any questions, give me a holler."
It's a strange type of banter, easy but charged, you're not sure if he's flirting or just being an asshole — maybe both. Either way, something about it makes your knees buckle. Over the next few weeks, you'll find excuses to stop by the store, somehow, Simon is always there. He starts leaving you snarky album recommendations on sticky notes — "Try this if you hate yourself." "Not as good as you think." you always fire back with snarky responses, and soon enough, this banter becomes your guys's thing.
One night after closing, he finds you leaning against the brick wall outside cupping the flame from your lighter in an attempt to light the cigarette hanging out the side of your mouth. "You always hang around like this?" He asks, Putting his arm against the wall and tilting his head with a smirk. He smells like smoke and cheap cologne, god you love it.
You look up at him, "Maybe I like your company." Your confidence makes him swallow thickly, a desperate look apparent on his face. "I'll see you around." You walk backward, giving him a soft wink before turning around and walking away. The tension between you two is palpable, stretching between you two like a live wire, but you won't make a move. At least not yet.
A few weeks later, you tag along with Simon to a dingy club for one of his gigs on the outskirts of town, watching him flail around with the same reckless energy that attracted your attention to him in the first place. fuck, you never knew how much you needed him until now.
After the show, he was restless and edgy, tension burning under his skin as you drove back, street lights fading into the background."You didn't have to come, Y'know?" he says, tapping his fingers against the window, his gaze fixated on the road ahead. "I know, but I wanted to."
He scoffs, but there's no bite to it. The car ride is quiet, the tension hanging thick inside the car, and as you pull up outside his place, he doesn't get out right away. Instead, he looks towards you, his gaze heavy.
"You wanna come in?"
The air was heavy with silence for a couple seconds, you knew exactly what he was asking. "Of course," you reply with a soft smile.
Inside, his room was a mess — records scattered everywhere, empty alcohol bottles scattered on his table. He throws his jacket onto the couch as he watches you from across the room, eyes dark with something you now recognize as hunger.
You walk up to him, causing him to retreat toward his wall full of posters, "You always let strangers into your place, or am I just special?" You mutter, dark eyes locked into his.
His breath shudders, his reaction causing you to laugh to yourself, "What happened to the confident man I saw earlier, huh?" You move his face down, angling it towards yours, his hot breath on your face, desperation is a good look on him.
"What's your deal?" he asked, trying to keep his cool, but the way your fingers caressed the side of his face made his breath hitch. "My deal?" You roll your eyes, giving him a soft smirk "I don't think you want to know." you say jokingly.
Your fingers intertwined with the fabric of his t-shirt, pulling him closer to you. "Try me," he says, looking down at you with glossy, pleading eyes.
Your eyes darkened as they met his, he could feel his erection straining in his pants. And before you knew it, his lips crashed into yours, his kiss rough and desperate, he melted into the kiss as your fingers tangled into his hair, slightly tugging, getting a soft moan out of him.
You push him onto the couch, climbing onto his lap, straddling him. His hands go instinctively onto your waist, but you slap them off, placing them onto the cushions. "You're always acting like you're in control," you say, tracing down his torso with your hand, stopping above his belt. "But I don't think you are, not really," you whisper into his ear as you snake your hand over his straining erection, slightly palming it.
He lets out a soft whimper, hands twitching at his sides, not knowing what to do with them. "Maybe you're right." He muttered under his breath.
Your hands sneak under his shirt, nails dragging down his chest, leaving faint red lines in their wake, he gasped, hips bucking forward in search of friction. "Then you're going to let me take care of you, okay?" you say as you press soft kisses against his neck, deliberately slow, teasing. "And you're going to do exactly as I say, like a good boy." His cock twitched under you from your praise.
"Take off your shirt for me." You order. He hastily takes off his shirt. You place soft kisses down his torso, leaving soft hickeys down his chest.
"Good boy," you cooed, and the way his body reacted — shivering beneath you, cock twitching — made you realize how much he needed this.
You unbuckle his belt, pulling his pants down to his ankles. You get on your knees and look up at him, locking in his dark, watery eyes. Still looking at him, you place soft kisses over his clothed erection.
"F-fuck!" he whimpered out, bucking his hips. You pull away, and the look he gives you makes your stomach flip. "Tell me what you want." you asked, "You," he bashfully whispered, "A little louder for me," you said with a cocky tone. "You, I need you so bad it fucking hurts." You felt your core tighten as he looked at you with glossy, pleading eyes.
"Take your underwear off for me, okay?" Simon took them off at the speed of light, flicking them somewhere behind him. You grab the base of his cock and start stoking him painfully slow, gaining loud whines and whimpers from him. "F-fuck, stop teasing, will ya?" he says as bucking his hips into your hands. You reach up and slap him, "Did I say you could move? Huh?" you say as you jerk him off at a frenzied pace. His back arched off the couch, choked up, holding back his moans as his hips began to shudder, you pull away right before he could cum.
He lets out a loud, unfiltered groan and a string of curses, you hastily take off your pants and panties before straddling him, "You're going to help me get off, ok? Be a good boy for me." He quickly nods as you line up his tip with your hole, slowly sliding him into your wet gummy walls. At first, it was painful as you sunk into his length, but as a couple seconds passed, the pain quickly turned into pleasure. Simon lets out a loud groan "Shut up," you say, giving him a slap in the face as you start to bounce up and down on his cock. Simon looks pathetic beneath you, tears flowing down his cheeks, face red with desperation, he places his hands on your hips in an attempt to pull you down harder on his hard length. You wrap your fingers in his dark greasy hair and tug on it as his cock hits your g-spot, "Fuck Simon, right there." you exclaim, throwing your head back as you ride the tall, muscular, writhing man beneath you. Simon lets out a loud, unfiltered moan from the tugging sensation, you sneak one hand out of his hair to slap him with and then place it over his neck, applying little pressure.
"F-fuck, I'm going to cum soon." he whimpers out as he bucks his hips into your wet cunt, you grab his hand and place it on your clit, "Not until I get off, okay," you say sweetly, rocking your hips hastily as you feel his cock twitch inside you. As his cock hits that one sensitive spot deep in your cunt your head rocks back in ecstasy as he rubs circles onto your clit, "Simon, I'm going to cum." You moan, his pace increasing slightly, "Do you want to cum with me?" you ask sweetly "Please.. I've been a really good boy, can I please cum?" he pleads, begging for release. "Go ahead, baby, cum with me," you say as you replace his hands with yours and move his to your tits, soon enough you both reach your climax, feeling his warm cum coat your gummy walls as his cock twitches, he lets out a loud moan as he grabs your hips and fucks you down onto him. His actions gain a loud whine from you, "Simon!" you exclaim, his action being the last thing you need to unravel under him. You rest your head on his shoulder as you both come down from each other's high, cum leaking around his soft cock still placed inside your cunt.
"Are you okay?" you ask, catching your breath, "I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to slap you, it was in the heat of the moment," you tell him embarrassed. Simon moves your sweat-slicked hair off of your forehead, "Are you fuckin' joking? That was the best sex I've ever fuckin' had." he gives you a small smirk as he pulls you into his chest.
He places your hair behind your ear and leans in to whisper, "Trust me, you don't know how long I've been dreaming about this."
Notes: This is my first time writing smut, so I sincerely apologize if this was boring or not good! I hope you enjoyed it.
Write about Daisuke dragging his ass across the floor of the Tulpar
The other crew members see this and just shrug and join in because idk it's a funny image to me
i opened my Tumblr to this request, and im 90% sure it's bait, but i will give you what you want!
Daisuke lets out a breathy sigh as he stares down the length of the Tulpar main corridor. It has been a long and uneventful day on the ship, and boredom has started to gnaw at his mind like a persistent space mouse. He glances across the ship to make sure nobody is looking, then—without hesitation— drops to the floor, planting his hands in front of him, and begins dragging himself across Tulpars floors using only his arms, resembling a dog.
"The hell are you doing?" a voice spoke behind him, Daisuke slowly cranked his head to the left only to spot Swansea standing there with a complex expression on his face and his arms crossed across his chest.
"Curing my boredom.", Daisuke responds shamelessly, continuing to scoot forward with determination.
"Y'know what, to hell with it." Says Swansea before dropping down and scooting alongside Daisuke, their synchronized grunts and snickers filling the corridor.
It wasnt long before Anya poked her head through the main doors, clipboard in hand. "Is this a race...?" she asks while slowly blinking.
Anya stands there contemplating for a minute, was she really losing her sanity this much to comply with these idiots? Yes, without another thought, she dropped down and joined in. Soon, the three of them, synchronized, scoot across the entire corridor floor like some sort of doggy daycare.
Disturbed by the chuckling and grunting, Curly leaves the cockpit to check on the other members of the ship. "What's going on in here!" Curly shouts, putting a halt to the three idiots.
"Daisuke started it!" said Anya while pointing her finger to the flushed boy.
"What else is a boy supposed to do up here.." Daisuke says defending his honor.
Curly lets out a heavy sigh and mutters something under his breath about needing a new crew as he flops on the floor, scooting next to the three. "If you cant beat 'em.."
Thus, the Tuplar crew found themselves slithering across the ship, laughing and bumping into each other, their mission being momentarily forgotten in this act of stupidity.
this was insanely painful to write, consider yourself lucky, anon ❤︎
