#' ❛ When they talk I hear their ghosts — every word they say to me. ❜ … *BURNTSCARS
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DPxDC #22
(kind of a prequel/companion for #21 adding in my new OC whispers)
Danny is squatting in an abandoned building working on some tech he found in a dumpster.
??: *whispering* Numbers, the wind told me you are a protector and will keep me safe.
Danny turns his head to see a little blond girl in torn, dirty street clothes, maybe around age 10. The spirits around Danny all gain that soft look in their eyes when seeing something precious.
Danny aka Numbers: Well I can certainly try, what do you need? And what do I call you?
Little girl: *Whispering* I'm Whisper. Metas, especially young ones are trafficked. The wind sings to me, telling me secrets. Your secrets are many but you are a protector and can keep me safe.
Numbers tries to keep his face in check hearing the truth, pain, and fear in the young girl's words. Without hesitation, agrees to be her protector.
Numbers: Welp guess I'm a big brother (again). Okay, Whisper I will take you with me and protect you. You do not have to share anything at all about what you hear unless you want to, understand.
Whispers smile is blinding while she nods.
Numbers is well known to the other street kids as he's been living in Gotham for a few months and has good street cred. He is known to be kind to everyone and help anyone, especially with anything to do with numbers. Numbers is also well known for giving info to Red Hood on those who go against the rules of Crime Alley. Red Hood himself is supportive of Numbers, even though it's clear Numbers isn't a native Gothamite.
The kids of Crime Alley soon get used to Numbers and Whispers being inseparable and Numbers calling Whisper his sister. However, the street kids were not ready for what would become of the duo.
Whispers knowing now she would be safe did tell Numbers the secrets carried by the wind. Anything from the little things like someone tripped a few blocks over to a member of the Bats and Birds near, to the trafficking ring being set up outside Crime Alley.
Numbers knows he has to share the bigger things with Red Hood. Especially because Numbers has hung up his own vigilante suit. Racking his brain for how to share this information without letting people know it came from Whispers was actually easy to figure out. Numbers will say he's a psychopomp. Well, he can see and interact with ghosts since he himself is half dead but shhhh.
The spirits of Gotham are in abundance but he hasn't really interacted with them since coming here. He did listen to them when they told him Crime Alley run by Red Hood would make a good place to live.
Asking the ghosts to find out where Hood is was simple. A young male with a gruesome hole in his chest had shown them right to the rooftop Hood was chilling on. Numbers grabbed hold of Whisper and using his powers flew them to the top.
Numbers: Hello Red Hood! Lovely night for a rooftop stroll!
Red Hood gave a minuscule flinch.
Hood: Numbers! *grumbling* every time.
Hood: What do you got for me this time?
Hood notices that Numbers isn't alone for the first time. He inclines his head in a silent question.
Numbers: This is my little sister Whispers!
Whispers gives a small wave from beside him.
Numbers: And I got a new trafficking ring being set up at ____corner of ______ outside of Crime Alley. They haven't picked anyone up yet though.
Whisper nudges him. Leaning down so Whispers can talk to him
Whisper: *whispering* they are planning to head out in the morning.
Standing back up straight, Numbers turns his head to look at an empty spot, tilting his head like he's listening to something then turns to Hood.
Numbers: Actually you should hurry with dealing with them they are planning to head out in the morning.
Hood: Hmm okay, Numbers you always have the best intel but this is new even for you. Do you want to tell me how the info has changed since you've been standing here or?
Numbers: *sigh* only because you are Red Hood will I tell you. I am a psychopomp.
Hood stumped: okay cool I'll keep that to myself then, thank you for trusting me. Anything you learn from them you can tell me personally and I'll help in any way I can.
Hood quickly departed heading off to deal with the traffickers.
Whisper: *whispering* the wind sings his praise so much, even though his secrets burden him.
Numbers: The ghosts sing his praise too.
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Girl I need to know what happened at home in "Playing Dangerously" bring a second chapter home please
Part 1: Playing Dangerous
THE END OF THE GAME
jude bellingham x gf!reader
warnings: a lot of tension, +18 content, p in v, unprotected sex, dom!Jude, dirty talk, possesive behaivor, and probably mistakes since english is not my first language.
summary: After a night of shameless teases that push Jude to his limits, you think you've won. However, the anger between you is still there, and you both prove it in a battle for control, releasing all the unspoken tension with touches instead of words. Every gesture becomes a declaration, every caress, a fight. In the end, all he wants is to hear you say it—to speak the truth: that you are his and he is yours.
Jude´s kiss wasn’t gentle—it was all fire and frustration, an explosion of the tension that had been simmering between you two all night. His lips claimed yours with a desperate sort of hunger, his hands framing your face as if to keep you from escaping this time. You gasped against him, startled by the intensity, but the sound only seemed to spur him on, his grip tightening, his lips demanding every ounce of your attention.
Your hands found their way to his chest, whether to push him away or pull him closer, you weren’t sure. Anger still lingered within you, but desire burned even stronger. But as his lips moved against yours, all traces of anger were swallowed by the sheer heat of the moment. His kiss was a mix of punishment and possession, and you felt it in every brush of his lips, every sweep of his tongue, and every barely restrained sound rumbling from his chest.
When he finally pulled back, his breath was ragged, his forehead pressing against yours as his hands slid down to your waist, holding you firmly in place. His eyes locked onto yours, dark and searching, as if trying to read your every thought. He could do it if he set his mind to it.
“You done playing games yet?” Jude asked, his voice rough, laced with challenge and desire. His thumb traced slow, deliberate circles against your hip, his touch warm and electric even through the thin fabric of your dress.
Behind you, the car’s cool metal frame pressed into your back, a stark contrast to the heat radiating between you. The glossy black paint gleamed under the soft light, creating an almost cinematic reflection of the two of you locked in this intimate, charged moment.
You bit your lip, struggling to catch your breath, but the defiance in your gaze hadn’t faded. “Not even close,” you whispered, your voice trembling slightly but still firm.
Jude let out a low chuckle, the sound sending a shiver through you. “You really don’t know when to quit, do you?” he murmured, his lips brushing against yours again, teasing, as if he were testing your resolve.
“Maybe I just like seeing you like this,” you shot back, a sly smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. “All worked up over me.”
Jude’s mouth twitched into the barest hint of a smirk, but the fire in his eyes never wavered. His fingers slid to the small of your back, pulling you flush against him. The scent of his cologne wrapped around you—woodsy with a hint of spice, intoxicatingly familiar. He leaned in, his lips ghosting over yours, his breath brushing against your skin. “Oh, I’m worked up, all right,” he said, his voice low and filled with a dark promise. “But you’re not going to like where this leads if you keep pushing me.”
Your heart skipped a beat at his words, the warning in his tone sending a thrill through you. But you weren’t ready to back down—not yet. “I´m sure I will,” you challenged, your voice softer now, almost a whisper.
His smirk returned, sharper this time. Without another word, he opened the passenger door and gestured for you to get in, his grip on your waist lingering just a moment longer than necessary. You hesitated, searching his face for some hint of what was going through his mind, but his expression was unreadable, his eyes flickering with something you couldn’t quite place.
As you slid into the car, he leaned in close, his hand bracing against the doorframe. “You’re in so much trouble,” he murmured, his lips brushing your ear in a way that made your breath hitch. Before you could respond, he shut the door with a quiet finality, rounding the car and sliding into the driver’s seat with an air of calm that only made your nerves buzz louder. He took his time and you were hating his pace.
The drive home was silent, but the tension between you was almost unbearable. Every glance, every shift in his posture, every brush of his hand against the gear shift seemed deliberate, calculated, as if he were silently daring you to speak first.
When he finally pulled into the driveway and killed the engine, he turned to you, a flicker of something unreadable—mischievous, almost predatory—dancing in his dark, unrelenting eyes. "Inside," he said, the low, commanding tone of his voice making your pulse race. The corner of his mouth quirked, just slightly, as if he was savoring the way your breath hitched.
You hesitated for just a second, your defiance flickering, but the look in his eyes left no room for argument. Swallowing hard, you stepped out of the car and walked toward the door, aware of him following close behind. The heat of his presence was almost suffocating, and your heart raced as you fumbled with the keys, finally pushing the door open and stepping inside.
The moment the door clicked shut behind you, Jude’s hands were on you again, spinning you around and pinning you against the wall. His lips crashed into yours, this time even more intense, more urgent, as if he couldn’t stand the distance any longer. His hands roamed your body, sliding over your hips and up your sides, pulling you against him with a desperation that left you breathless.
“You think you can play with me like that?” he murmured against your lips, his voice rough and low, each word sending a shiver down your spine. “Flirting with him, touching him, laughing like that—like I wasn’t even there? Y/N, you made me watch every single one of your fucking movements.”
Your hands gripped his shirt, your resolve crumbling under the weight of his words and the heat of his touch. “I wasn’t—” you started, but he cut you off with another searing kiss, his teeth grazing your lower lip in a way that made you gasp.
“Don’t lie to me,” he said, his voice a soft growl as he pulled back just enough to meet your eyes. His hands cupped your face, his thumbs brushing over your cheeks as he searched your gaze. “You wanted to make me jealous. You wanted to get under my skin. Well, congratulations, love. You got exactly what you wanted.”
His words sent a rush of adrenaline through you, your heart skipping a beat as his lips trailed down to your neck, leaving a trail of heated and wet kisses that made your knees weak. “Jude…” you whispered, your voice barely audible, but he didn’t stop, his hands tightening on your waist as if to anchor you to him.
“Say it,” he murmured against your skin, his lips hovering just below your ear. “Say you’re mine.”
His words weren’t a request—they were a command. As much as you wanted to fire back with that undeniable truth, you clung tightly to your anger and defiance. “No,” you whispered, your voice quivering, caught somewhere between anticipation and need.
Jude leaned back just enough to meet your gaze, his eyes ablaze with frustration and something deeper, something that sent a sharp ache through your chest in the most intoxicating way. “If that’s how you want this to go...” he muttered, his voice low and heavy with emotion.
You weren’t sure how much longer you could hold out, but surrendering to him—at least, not yet—wasn’t an option. Nevertheless, you couldn’t help blaming your hormones, your curiosity, and whatever god had blessed Jude Bellingham with the face of an angel and the body of a god of wanting to give up. But the night was still young. The leather of the nearest couch you two found, groaned as you shifted closer, your knees brushing against his. The moment you were within arm's reach, he hooked one arm around your back, effortlessly pulling you onto his lap.
Jude’s grip on your hips was firm, his lips pressing hard against yours as if he was trying to erase every thought from your mind. The intensity in his touch sent shivers down your spine, every brush of his hand leaving trails of heat in its wake. His fingers slid up, curling into the curve of your waist, pulling you impossibly closer. The kiss was relentless—no room for air, no chance to think. It was all Jude, all consuming, and you couldn’t help but respond, your own hands tangling in his hair, tugging just enough to hear the low groan that rumbled in his chest.
His mouth trailed down to your jaw, teeth grazing the sensitive skin before finding the spot at your neck that made your breath hitch. The sensation was electric, your body arching into his instinctively, your head tilting back to give him more access.
Your breath came in uneven gasps, your head spinning from the intensity of his touch and the heat of his breath against your skin. Part of you wanted to argue, to tease him further, but every inch of your body was on fire, his dominance leaving you no room to think. Still, you weren’t about to surrender so easily—not without one last shot.
Breaking the kiss, you leaned back just enough to meet his gaze, your fingers tracing the sharp line of his jaw. Your lips curved into a playful smile, the mischief in your eyes igniting a flicker of challenge in his. “You’re awfully bossy, you know that?”
Jude’s eyes narrowed, but the corner of his mouth twitched in amusement, his hands tightening on your hips. The possessiveness in his grip was thrilling, his strength holding you in place as if daring you to keep pushing. “And you’re a brat,” he shot back, his voice low and laced with a mix of annoyance and adoration. “But I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
The tension crackled between you. Every inch of your skin was alive with anticipation as Jude’s presence seemed to take up every corner of the room. His voice, soft but commanding, lingered in the air. “This is what you wanted, isn´t it?”
Your breath hitched, and despite yourself, you nodded. It was a dangerous game you were playing. Every fiber of your being screamed at you to pull away, to put an end to it—but the pull between you were undeniable. His eyes never left yours, like a predator studying its prey, and you could feel the weight of his gaze like a physical touch.
He took a step forward, his every movement deliberate, measured. His fingers brushed against your cheek, a featherlight caress that sent a shiver through you. “Don’t play anymore,” he whispered, almost tenderly.
Your heart hammered in your chest, but you refused to speak. Instead, you clenched your jaw, trying to hold your ground. His smirk deepened, amusement dancing in his eyes as he saw the battle within you.
His hand slid down the curve of your neck, his thumb brushing lightly over your pulse, sending a rush of warmth straight to your core.
“You’re trembling,” he murmured, his breath hot against your ear. “Tell me, do you want this?”
His words wrapped around you like a chain, but still, you couldn’t find your voice. The space between you seemed impossibly small now. His hand traveled lower, skimming the edge of your clothing, and you sucked in a breath as the pressure between you mounted. His closeness was overwhelming, suffocating, yet you didn’t want him to pull away.
You closed your eyes, but the image of his smirk, that knowing, teasing grin, stayed with you. You wanted to break. You wanted to submit. But pride kept you on the edge, unsure whether to give in completely or to keep fighting.
Jude stopped then, just as you felt you might drown in the heat of the moment. His lips hovered inches from yours, his breath mingling with yours in the stillness. His eyes searched yours, waiting for you to make the first move.
You stayed silent, your lips barely parted, your body aching for more. He smiled, a slow, wicked curve of his mouth, and his fingers brushed over your jawline, tracing the curve of your face like a forbidden promise. “You’ll break,” he murmured, the words a low, knowing promise.
The game was no longer about control—it was about surrender. And as much as you fought it, you felt yourself slipping, falling into his hands.
Jude’s teeth skimmed your bottom lip, tugging just hard enough to draw a gasp from you before his tongue swept over the tender spot, soothing the sting. His fingers tangled in your hair, his grip firm yet achingly gentle as he pulled back, his lips hovering over yours. “You’re mine,” he murmured, his voice rough, laced with undeniable conviction. “Only mine.”
The words sent a wave of nervousness through you, raising goosebumps along your skin, igniting something deep and unshakable. You tried to stifle the teasing retort forming on your lips, but defiance slipped through unbidden. “Then deserve it,” you blurted, the challenge clear in your voice.
Jude's jaw tightened at your words, the challenge in your tone igniting a flicker of anger in his eyes. He stopped smirking, and bit the inside of his cheek. His lips hovered close to your ear, his voice low and rough as he murmured, “You never learn, do you?”
Before you could respond, he lifted you effortlessly, carrying you towards the bedroom. The door slammed shut behind him with finality, the sound echoing through the room. He set you down with a harsh press against the matress, his hands still gripping you with an iron-like hold.
As Jude’s hands roamed your sides, his touch shifting from heated to deliberate, his gaze bore into yours, dark and unrelenting. He was holding back just enough to tease you, to make you feel the weight of his control. His fingers found the zipper of your dress, tugging it down in one smooth, almost punishing motion. The fabric slipped from your shoulders, pooling at your feet as his eyes raked over you, predatory and sharp.
But when he saw the bare skin beneath, his hands froze for just a moment. A sharp, almost feral grin tugged at the corner of his mouth, and his voice dropped to a dangerous whisper. “No underwear?” The amusement in his tone sent a shiver through you, and the heat of his gaze made it impossible to look away.
Your cheeks burned as you stammered, “I didn’t want lines showing through the dress...”
He leaned in, smirking, his lips a breath away from yours, his voice low and rough, each word like a match striking against your resolve. “You’re such a tease,” he said, the words dripping with a mix of annoyance and raw desire. “Did you want me to loose my mind?”
Your blush deepened, but the challenge in his tone reignited the fire in your chest. “Did you?”
Jude’s gaze darkened, the flicker of anger in his eyes giving way to something far more dangerous. “What am I going to do?” he repeated, his voice a low, predatory murmur. His fingers slid up your bare skin, his touch igniting every nerve as he leaned in, his lips grazing your neck before finding the sensitive spot just below your ear.
“Oh, love,” he said, his voice a mix of threat and promise, “I’m going to ruin you.”
All feminism had apparently left your body, because the way he grunted that crude declarations made your thighs shudder with anticipation. Sexual repression was something you had lived with for the last couple of weeks since you two started fighting and his hands around your body felt better than ever.
Your legs opened wider for him as he left kisses along the valley of your breasts, his tongue sweeping down below your erected nipples. The room began to spin, all your senses completely tethered to him. His hands groped at your ass, using it as leverage to rock his covered length into your center. The delicious friction builds as butterflies swarmed your stomach. God, it has never felt this good.
Craving more, thirsty for more than foreplay, you dropped your hands to his lap. Your nimble fingers work on his button and zipper. You ghosted past the shadows in his pants, feeling him, knowing he wanted this just as bad as you did, but he was refusing to help you pull his jeans off, or at least down enough so he could be exposed.
“Jude, some help?” you groaned, hating how gutted you sounded, how needy.
“I’m not doing shit until you tell me what I want to hear.” His mouth continues to assault your neck and chest, the cool air making goosebumps race across your body as it hits the warm places on your throat where his wet tongue had been.
“You want me to tell you—”
“Confess,” he butted in, grabbing a fistful of your hair. “I want you to confess me the truth. The undeniable thruth. That you´re mine, only mine.” That tone again, rubbing you in all the places you never knew you needed. It was obvious that he didn’t like the stunts you’d pulled during dinner.
Your breath shook as you looked up from his waist, diving into his hellfire eyes that spark and sizzle in the dim light. Such a unique version of brown. “Then tell me you are mine,” you whispered, pressing your mouth into his for a kiss that felt like falling. Your heart raced inside your rib cage, thudding over and over again. “Tell me you´re mine and not hers.”
His nostrils flare, and his hands grabbed you harder, as if holding onto control—or maybe letting it slip. The argument was still fresh in your mind, the reason why all of this had started, like a wound that refused to close. The campaign. The model. His silence was worse than all the yelling from weeks and hours ago, and you could feel your stomach sink.
The seconds stretch, his eyes still locked on yours, and when he finally spoke, his voice is a low, smoldering growl. “How many times do we have to go through this?”
He grunted, raising his hips to shove his tight jeans down his waist enough to release himself. You widened your eyes, looking down as his hard cock rested against his stomach.
You raised your hips, directing his cock to your entrance. Lowering yourself onto him gradually, you felt every single inch enter you at your own pace. You whimpered as you felt him stretch you open, forcing his way into your dripping walls. You couldn’t help but look down, watching the process. It’s almost an unbearable amount of pleasure that rides through you when you´re fully sitting on his lap.
The sound of him groaning turns your attention back to him. Beneath you, his head presses into the pillows, his toned arms gripping you as his fingers clutched at your hips, all the veins in his throat bulging as he flexes his jaw, grunting out, “Fuck.”
You were at a live wire of sensations in this moment that you couldn’t fathom happening with anyone else. Eager to please him and craving release, you started to lift your hips up and down. His length rubbed every inch of you on the inside, tickling that sensitive spot along with every other spot. It was touching everywhere all at once, so many places, it was overwhelming. Your limbs felt light and heavy at the same time as you rolled your hips against him.
A groan rumbled in his chest, letting you know what you were doing was working for him just as much as it was for you. “Look at you looking so good ridin’ my cock,” he mumbled, full of rasp, low eyes watching you. His hands were now occupied touching your breasts as you rode him.
You were soaked, thoroughly stretched and perfected for him. You had him exactly where you wanted—beneath you, pinned, with you in control. The rhythm you set was intoxicating, a slow burn, a tease that left both of you breathless. But then his hands lowered and tightened on your hips, a subtle warning that sent a shiver cascading down your spine, you knew that his restraint was slipping, his patience worn thin.
In a single fluid motion, he reversed the tide, his movements deliberate, commanding. The haziness of his earlier submission vanished, replaced by something raw, undeniable, and entirely him. He had let you play, but now it was his turn to have fun.
He encircled your waist, forcing you down his shaft. Your bodies scoot to the edge of the bed so that he could piston his hips into your hole. With hunger and traces of rage, he grabbed again your exposed tits. He did not give you a single moment to settle because soon, your nipple was between his teeth, his soft tongue spinning circles around it.
“Jude, oh my God,” you panted, sweat already sticking to your forehead.
You moved together in sync, rocking your bodies into one another. You felt every single thrust, letting your bodies slam together over and over again. Your head lolled back while your fingers buried themselves into his shoulder blades.
He growled, the sound reverberating through you like a primal command. His hands tightened their grip, driving him to thrust into you with an intensity that left you gasping. You let him guide you, manhandle you, surrendering completely to his control. “See? You’re my good girl.”
His pace was merciless now, a rhythm that left no room for thought, only sensation. Your legs trembled, teetering on the edge of collapse, but his firm hold kept you exactly where he wanted you. Tears welled in your eyes, not from pain, but from the overwhelming flood of pleasure coursing through you.
He had promised this—promised to unravel you, to leave you utterly undone—and now he was keeping that promise with devastating precision. He was ruining you, in the most exquisite way possible.
“I’m going to come. Make me come, Jude, please,” you cried wildly, suddenly not caring about anything else but the pleasure.
“Beg for it, baby, beg for it. Only I can make you feel like this.”
You nodded eagerly. “Please, please, Jude, please.” His hands went down to trace circles in your clit, and it was unberable.
You were aching all over. Fire, consumig you as you climbed higher towards your orgasm. You quivered, the air taken out of your lungs as ecstasy pumped in your veins. All that came from you are broken cries as he continued to plunge, flutters and spasms racking through you. Pleasure thrummed through your body, toes curling as you drift through the most intense orgasm of your life. Now, the heat that once consumed you was replaced by a deep blush spreading across your tear-streaked cheeks, the salt of your tears mixing with the lingering haze of pleasure. Each shaky breath drew attention to the raw vulnerability etched into your expression, a testament to how completely he had undone you.
“Beautiful,” he uttered huskily. You were not even sure that’s what you actually heard, too numb from bliss to truly comprehend.
Your limbs felt heavy and your eyes were shut tight as he raced after his own release, pumping with ruthless thrusts that made your core tighten with indescribable pleasure. Jude’s fingers delved between your thighs, finding your clit again and immediately applying pressure.
“Wait, wait, I can’t. S-so sensitive,” you whimpered, your hand shooting down to his wrist, gripping it to try and prevent him from making your entire body combust.
It’s so intense that you could feel your eyes starting to water. Again. His fingers didn’t stop, and neither did his hips, “One more. Be my good girl. One more.”
He moaned, his thumb speeding up to match his thrusts. That familiar build hit your core, a long whine falling from your lips. “Fuck, I can’t,” you mewled, but your body said otherwise, tightening around him once again.
“You can. You can because I said so.”
And you did. You came again, your body gripping him with a desperate intensity, drawing him deeper, tighter, until every inch of him was enveloped in your heat. Your cries turned into broken whimpers, the sound raw and helpless as your second climax tore through you, leaving you trembling and breathless.
Jude’s growl turned into a guttural moan, a sound that reverberated through his chest and into yours as he thrust one final time, burying himself fully. The moment he stilled, his lips claimed yours with fervor. The kiss was searing, full of hunger and release, his mouth devouring yours with no pretense of gentleness. His teeth grazed your bottom lip before his tongue swept in, deepening the kiss as his hands tightened on your hips, holding you against him like he never wanted to let go.
You melted into him, your lips moving in perfect rhythm with his, matching the intensity of his passion. Your fingers tangled in his curls, pulling him closer as he tilted his head to kiss you deeper, exploring every inch of your mouth with aching thoroughness.
As the storm of sensations began to settle, his lips softened against yours, the urgency ebbing into something slower, more tender. When the kiss finally broke, both of you were breathless, your foreheads pressing together as your shared gasps mingled in the stillness. His thumb brushed over your cheek, catching the lingering tears as his lips ghosted over yours once more.
His long eyelashes tickled the side of your face. You could barely feel his fingers when they started playing with your hair, twirling around your strands. The room was quiet now, the intensity of moments before replaced by a soothing calm. A warm glow from a bedside lamp cast gentle shadows across the room, and the air felt thick with the intimacy of the moment.
He lay beside you, propped up on one elbow, his other hand brushing delicate fingers over you. Your eyes fluttered closed as if you were savoring the way his touch made you feel utterly cherished.
“You're it for me,” he murmured, his voice soft but steady. It was as if the words carried the weight of his entire soul. “There's no one else. There couldn't be. You're all I want, all I’ll ever need.”
Before you could respond, he leaned down, pressing the sweetest of kisses to your forehead. It lingered, firm and grounding, as though he wanted to etch the moment into your skin.
“You’re my world, you know?” His lips moved to your temple, then to the corner of your mouth, each touch more tender than the last. “I couldn’t love you more if I tried. I don’t even think it’s possible.” His words were laced with conviction, yet there was an almost boyish softness in the way he looked at you, as if you were the most precious thing he’d ever held.
You let out a shaky laugh, overwhelmed due to the sensations that you had felt but comforted. You reached for his hand, threading your fingers through his, and brought it to your lips. “You don’t have to try,” you whispered. Your voice trembled, but your smile was radiant. “I love you so much, Jude...”
There was a beat of silence, not awkward but rich with meaning. You could see how his eyes softened, how his features eased into an expression of pure adoration.
“And you know what?” you added, your tone more playful now, but your words brimming with sincerity. “I’m yours. Every part of me. Always.”
He cupped your face, his lips pressed to yours, soft and lingering, a kiss that was less about passion and more about everything he couldn’t put into words. You snuggled closer to him, your bodies fitting together perfectly, and he tucked the blanket around you both, holding you as if to shield you from the world. His hand found yours, fingers entwining naturally, and as your breathing slowed, he pressed a final kiss to your hair.
"Goodnight, my love," he murmured, his voice warm and tender. "I’ve got you."
And in his arms, you felt it—safe, loved, and utterly complete.
a/n: omg.
#jude bellingham#jude bellingham comfort#jude bellingham fanfic#jude bellingham imagine#jude bellingham fluff#jude bellingham angst#jude bellingham imagines#jude bellingham one shot#hey jude#jb5#jude bellingham x reader#jude bellingham smut#jude bellingham x you#jude victor willliam bellingham#rmcf#bellingham#bellingham x reader
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Will forever be grateful for this post and your writings crab! I usually read this every know and then! Really recommend and read crabdrables blog!! Sorry for the VERY late thoughts but taking L's left and right irl lol Onto some of my personal thoughts:
Relating very much with reader's unending cycle of self-doubt and hatred that may stem from themselves and from family too.
Ain't exactly an academic achiever expect when college but please for the love of find time in social life to or you'll kind of end up with reader here. Asian things lol.
Speaking of Asian things, reader's parents love language here is more on actions and less on verbal. This alright but kinda toxic when its something one thing only. Reader craves to of validation through words too. What's one action can be interpreted as another; example
Academic validation you'll find in majority of families unfortunately something reader thought that they should do for majority of their life but their is life outside school too.
Pleasing for other people is what person's identity will get themselves killed literally and metaphorically, it shows that reader is drained from what all happened in their life.
Reader really giving it all, as they think it would be make it or break it on the military.
Sad with reader that even if they joined the 141, their feelings of doubt and emptiness is still their and not easily those feeling be swayed easily.
Reader be yearning and wanting to be part of the 141 fam yet really made them out of place at the task force at first.
Calling "kid" by the 141 pulled me some of my heart strings, reader for sure was touched by their endearment thought they are still processing what the 141 say.
Reader's mind and thoughts be really damaged, so deep in their mind that they forgot the positive interactions with the 141.
Not the reader overhearing the string of Gaz' words and reader walking away not hearing the whole convo. Gaz seeing through reader and worried mother hen.
Ghost be the terrifying lt yet softie understanding big bro here.
Soap the ever social butterfly yet respecting social boundaries for reader.
Dad!Price ain't giving up reader that early. Yearning for someone like Price wanting to understand and talk to like reader here.
Reader may not feel that they have place in 141 but they already are, they are just in denial and still on process.
Reader be shocked that Price finds them.
Price be observant due to years being in the military.
“Something on your mind?” Price asks that lead to conversation his understanding that led to Reader's opening up even when they cried earlier.
Price be knight in shining armor and Papa bear that is ready to defend anyone and especially 141 and that includes the reader. "Violence and timing." as Price known quote.
Reader be awkward on calling Price's first name and sharing what on their mind is.
Price despite reader's doubts on their place on 141 still reassures and knows that reader is in the right place. That not anyone could replace reader as they already carve into 141's hearts.
Price giving reader more credit as he sees that reader worked their ass off hard and well.
Not the joked that turned to not joked with hugging and effing Reader still protecting their parents and Price horrified with the silence and revelation.
Captain with his words about obligation and not love for sure hit Reader's head like a truck.
Price really giving the words that Reader crave and wanted to hear for their whole life, did gave them hope and made them less empty.
Papa John Price gave hug that Reader may not realized that they need it.
Reader felt seen and appreciated for who they are. Reader be stuck and with their found family as long as they can (forever).
Hiii Crab so happy to see you write outside of our rants/idea chats and my fellow delulu cod enjoyer! Would love to request Platonic!141 + Reader (sorry if this is long and somewhat confusing lol). You can do headcanons, drabble or whatever you comfy for. An idea that popped in my head kinda semi personal: Civ or 141! Reader though has parents and family is the reader is quite something else. Reader despite having somewhat normal upbringing still feel empty; they shouldn't be feeling this numb and empty deep inside of them. The reader craves the love that they give but couldn't or lack of receiving it back, though they don’t expect it or selfishly want it. Just someone who understands them even in their deepest darkest secret or flaw then boom cue the task force 141 unexpected yet welcoming to their life and maybe the one that the Reader can lean and let them be vulnerable on (finally).
Take your time on doing this Looking for to your other writing genuinely -Cee, your fellow Soap delulu
GN!Reader & 141 (Mostly Price)
Warnings: Slight angst Ships: None. A/N: This absolutely ran away from me and I do not at all regret it, hope you enjoy, Cee!!! Words: 3549
Almost your entire life had been a cycle of self doubt that also started to churn and twist into self-hatred. You blamed yourself for the feelings. Afterall, you had a relatively normal upbringing. Two parents who were both present in your life, both of whom worked so that you all had food on the table and a roof over your head. A luxury that very few had.
The least you could do for them is follow the path that they wanted to put you on, no matter how much you didn’t want to do it. Because you loved them.
So you excelled in your education, studying hard to try and impress your parents– to make them love you just as much as you loved them for everything that they did for you for your entire life. They wanted you to do all three sciences despite the additional workload it would add to your already stretched thin time? Then you would do them, take any extra classes after school in order to keep up with the work and not lag behind any of your peers.
There was no such thing as a social life, either, not when you had homework and projects due. Friends were few and far between. Generally, most people left when they realised how hyper focused you were on your grades instead of social interaction.
Did a classmate get a higher grade than you on a test? Well obviously you didn’t study hard enough, you just needed to dedicate more time to school even though school was all you had.
Did you get the highest marks in the class? Good, that was what was expected of you. Why didn’t you get full marks? You were better than that. You would do better because you loved your family. They showed it in their own way, of course, by encouraging you to study harder and get better grades. That was their love language, and yours was doing as they asked without a second thought. Because, at the end of the day, you were lucky to have an upbringing like you had. You would ignore the hollow void clawing at your chest because you had no right to feel that way– not when you had a roof over your head and parents that loved you(?).
It was when you came top of the class with full marks in a recent test, you came home with a beaming smile on your face and proudly showed the test to your parents. They took the papers from your hands, flipping through your work with critical eyes, before handing the papers back to you.
‘Well done, we’re so proud of you.’ That was all you wanted them to say to you. That was all you needed to hear. To know that they loved you.
‘Your penmanship is terrible.’ Was what you got instead. When you tried to point at the big 100% in green pen, you were waved away. ‘How are you expected to get a job when you write like a child? I’m surprised the teacher could even read your answers’.
After several years of balancing a work and educational life and paving a way for a line of work that you didn’t want for parents you should have been grateful to have, you decided that enough was enough.
No matter how hard you worked, no matter how high your marks were, they would never be proud of you. They would never return the love that you had for them until you nearly killed yourself trying.
Spending your entire childhood, teenagehood and all of your current adulthood trying to please your parents predictably would damage one’s psyche. You had no friends, family who had never been devoted to you as you were to them, and high grades serving as the foundations to a prison-like future.
You dropped out of University. The only option forward that you saw was joining the army in the vain hope that the empty feeling inside of you would dissipate when you actually did something that you believed was more worthwhile than any University course.
So you threw yourself into the military, working harder than all of the other recruits and training at every chance you could.
Your skills and determination became widely recognised amongst your peers. It took several years, but you eventually caught the eye of none other than Captain John Price.
Impressed by your willpower that not many soldiers possessed, he offered you a place on the 141.
Naturally, you agreed. You believed that being part of such a well renowned and respected team would finally beat back the lingering self doubt and emptiness that had curled itself around your heart.
It didn’t. If anything, it made it worse.
You were invited to join the 141, sure, but they had already established their own relationships between each other, had already bonded into a close knit group, and you were simply an outsider. Yes, you had been hand picked by Price himself, but that didn’t mean you were part of the team. They had their own inside jokes that they told to one another, leaving you feeling left out on most days.
And you felt… lacking around them. Ghost was stronger, Gaz was faster, Soap was smarter (he was a demolitions expert for crying out loud!), and Price was almost all of those rolled into one. They all complimented each other as a team. Meanwhile you felt like a spare tyre, a master of nothing and barely a jack of any trade.
Despite how you felt about it all, they all called you ‘kid’. Regardless of age gaps between yourself and the rest of them, the nickname stuck mostly because you were the newbie. It came as a surprise that it wasn’t spat with vitriol as your peers before had, but it was in fact said with… an affection you couldn’t quite place.
You couldn’t ignore the hole in your chest that had been chipped at over the years, forming a gaping maw that no reassurances could really mend.
Doubt lingered in the back of your mind, chipping away at your sanity as you prepared for the worst. How long would it take before they realised you weren’t good enough?
You were so deep in your doubts that you didn’t realise that you had been distancing yourself even more than before until you overheard a conversation in Price’s office a few months down the line.
“-- they don’t belong on the team.” Gaz said as you passed Price’s office and your heart dropped. It was only the tailend of what he had been saying but you had gotten the gist. You wanted to stay, to listen to the conversation more and listen to what your team had to say about you, but you didn’t. What you were going to hear were likely things you had already told yourself right from the start. You keep walking on, ignoring the sting of tears burning in the corners of your eyes. The blood rushing in your ears prevented you from heating the rest of the conversation.
“-- not only are they acting like they don’t belong on the team, but they’re acting like they’re not good enough.” Gaz continued, sighing in frustration.
“Maybe they need more time.” Ghost rumbled in reply, “Let them come out of their shell a little bit. Best not rush these things.” He was talking from experience, after all.
“Aye… maybe I can invite them out for drinks or sommat? I wouldn’t want them getting transferred before we got to know them a little more.” Soap had been the one that had tried the hardest to get close to you but had also tried to give you space so as to not suffocate you with his personality.
“They won’t be getting transferred.” Price said with conviction, tapping his desk, “I chose them to be part of this team and this is where they’re going to stay. Let me have a word with them first.”
“Aye, sir.”
— — — — — —
You found yourself in the smoker’s shelter outside the main building. It was late enough that most of the soldiers had gone to bed or off to do their own things elsewhere so you doubted that you would be bothered for a little while. Just enough time for you to get your thoughts together. Your tears had dried in your eyes a few minutes ago, making them sting in the cold air. You didn’t need to look in your reflection to know that you probably looked like a wreck– entirely unbecoming of a soldier of your apparent status.
You didn’t want to get transferred. Despite your distance with the 141, you didn’t hate them. Far from, actually, you held a great deal of respect for each and every one of them. It was just that you felt like you didn’t have your place amongst them. Not good enough to be associated with them.
“Bit late to be out here in the cold, chuck.” A voice startled you out of your thoughts– one that you would recognise anywhere from the low rasp of a smoker's lungs.
“Captain.” You croaked, wincing at the patheticness in your voice. There was a scuff of boots as Price came closer, leaning into your line of vision with a furrowed brow which only furrowed more as he took in your dishevelled appearance.
“Something on your mind?” He asked kindly, perching on the arm of the bench to give you some personal space. He left his question open, allowing you any chance to steer the conversation how you wanted to. There was no judgement for catching you at your lowest, no disgust at your red rimmed eyes— just polite understanding and a non verbal offer of pleasant company.
“Why did you pick me, Captain?”
The question made him tilt his head, a frown beginning to tug on his features. You were worried you had insulted him.
“What brought this on, huh? Someone say something to you? Need me to have a word with them?” He straightened his back, scowling. Whilst you felt like you didn’t have a place in the 141, you could never deny the shield of protectiveness that Price held over his team. You remember in the back of your mind the day that some General who thought he was hot shit had the audacity to undermine Soap as nothing more than a ‘yappy dog’ when offered the Scot’s demolitions expertise. Price had appeared almost out of thin air and almost ripped the General a new one and things would have escalated into a fist fight had Laswell not intervened. It wasn’t as though Price didn’t think his own soldiers were capable of defending themselves, but he couldn’t care less about punishments aimed his own way over that of his Sergeants and Lieutenant. It was just a surprise that the protective streak extended over you, too, despite your distance to your teammates.
“I’ll sound stupid.” You mumbled, looking down at the ground as if expecting him to chastise you like a child. He didn’t.
“I’ve had my fair share of stupid over the years. Try me.”
“... and ungrateful.”
“I once had a guy punch me in the face two seconds after I took a bullet that would have killed him.” Price countered with a cut off chuckle once he remembered what was probably a mission long finished and cleared his throat. “C’mon, tell Captain what’s on your mind.”
And he sounded so sincere when he said it. Sounded like he genuinely wanted to hear what was going on in your head– that he was willing to waste what was already his important and limited time on someone like you.
“Sir—”
“John.” Price corrected gently, crows feet more noticeable at the corners of his eyes scrunched up when he smiled, “We’re off duty, you don’t need to be so formal.”
“... John.” You echoed, finding that you really didn’t like saying that. It felt like calling your teacher by their first name in primary school or a classmate’s parent other than their last name.
“Now, c’mon, tell me what’s on your mind. Might not be a therapist, but I’m better than bottling it up.” You wondered in the back of your mind how often Price did this. Sat with his soldiers and talked with them, offered them a listening ear to hear their vents and fears. You couldn’t help but feel honoured to be one of the few he willingly offered said time to. Your silence stretched on as you thought of the words to say, how to phrase what you wanted to say without sounding unappreciative of the opportunity that Price had offered you when he requested you join his team.
“I don’t feel like I belong here.” You blurted once the silence had stretched on for long enough to border on uncomfortable. John’s face fell and you quickly realised how bad that sounded and rushed to correct yourself.
“No, no, wait, let me explain–” the Captain closed his mouth to allow you to continue speaking, but you could tell that it was hard for him. “I just… you could have anyone better than me, you know? I’m not a demolition expert. I’m… I’m not the best Sniper. I’m the slowest on the team, pretty sure I’m the weakest–”
“Nope.” Price interrupted, finally breaking the bubble of your personal space as he took a proper seat next to you on the bench but still respecting the distance enough to keep a few inches between you. “Nope, not lettin’ you say another word.”
“But–”
“Nope.”
“Cap–”
“No.”
“But you could have anyone better—“
“But they wouldn’t be you.” He deflected easily. Far too easily. He leant back on the bench, crossing one leg over the other as he folded his arms over his chest. His fingers twitched and you could tell he was itching for a cigar but didn’t light one out of respect.
“Alright, sure, I can ask Laswell to give me one of the best soldiers in the SAS and have them brought here tomorrow. They could be the best of the best, top of their class, better than you and maybe even better than me. But that’s a bit of a stretch.” He winked and earned a weak chuckle from you. “But they won’t be you. I don’t pick just on skill alone, kid, I pick based on how I feel people would fit into the team. I chose you because I knew that you’d be perfect.”
“As for not being a demolitions expert, let me let you in on a little secret. I’ve no fucking clue about demolitions, either. And you don’t have to be on the team to be the ‘best Sniper’. You’re better than most, and that’s what’s important. As for being the weakest– did you or did you not bodily lift Gaz in a fireman’s carry during training the other week while he was trying to act as an injured civilian? Quite dramatically, might I add. Swooned and everything.”
You remembered that practice mission. Quite fondly, actually. Gaz was a civilian and , after being struck by a foam bullet from Soap, had dramatically screamed in agony and crumpled to the floor. When you had lifted him up and over your shoulders, the bastard continued to wail something along the lines of telling his non-existent spouse that he loved them and that his money be given to his equally non-existent children. Soap got in another shot to the man’s head, knocking off his cap in the process. Distracted as you were trying to haul your teammate out of the danger zone, you couldn’t help but laugh thinking about it now.
“Last time I checked, Gaz is somewhat heavier than a sack of flour. Don’t tell him I said that, I’ll hurt his feelings.” Price was right, you supposed. You were more than capable of carrying Gaz over your shoulders, maybe even Soap or Price himself if the time called for it. Ghost you weren’t so sure about, though. The man was a walking mountain.
“What I’m trying to say is that you have to give yourself more credit. You’re more than good enough to be on my team. I chose you for a reason.”
You… did not expect that sort of reassurance from Price. You had hoped for something along those lines, yes, but perhaps with a thrown in criticism or three. You waited for a ‘but’ that never came. The man snorted beside you and when you gave him a quizzical look, he waved off your concern.
“Shit, if I didn’t know any better, I’d think the next thing out of your mouth would be that your parents never hugged you as a kid.”
Your silence made him slowly turn his head towards you. It would have almost been comical if the situation wasn’t. His face crumbled and a wounded sound emerged from his throat.
“Sometimes they did!” You rushed to defend the people that raised you. “And they gave me food and shelter, clothes when I needed them–”
“Fucking hell. No, that’s what they’re supposed to do because they’re your parents. What about telling you that they were proud of you? That they loved you? I saw your records. Top of your class in not just your training but in your education, too. Triple sciences, mathematics, all of it. They had to be proud of you for that? My parents would have killed for me to get even a passing grade in my GCSEs.” You looked down at the ground and it was Price’s turn to have his eyes fixed on you.
“They were proud of you, weren’t they?” He asked again, leaning forwards so he could catch your eye, his own filled with concern. “Kid?”
“I don’t talk to them much anymore.”
Price inhaled sharply and he leaned back again, looking around and clenching his jaw as if fighting back his anger. His fingers twitched again. You admired his self control as he was still yet to grab a cigar that you knew he kept on his person. Usually in his breast pocket while his lighter was in his right pocket.
“Listen to me.” The Captain said, a more stern edge to his voice now that he had gathered his thoughts together. “Whatever your family said to you— how they treated you? Forget it. They showed you obligation. Not love. They didn’t want what was ‘best’ for you, they wanted bragging rights. What you’ve achieved– here, in bootcamp, in university and in school, is something to take pride in– no, no, look at me.”
Your gaze had trailed to the side so you avoided looking at your Captain in the eyes. He noticed and clicked his fingers to gain your attention back on him.
“Don’t look away from me because I want you to listen to what I’m gonna say and I want you to look at my face as I say it.” Your eyes met his blue ones, “You should be proud of everything that you’ve achieved in your life. I’m sorry that your family never told you that and I’m sorry that I haven’t said that enough to you since you joined 141.”
You opened your mouth to say something– to argue or disagree but he shook his head.
“No. It’s my turn to speak now. I’m proud of you. I am so proud of you. Everything you’ve done and everything that you’re yet to do, I will always be proud of you. You’re an exemplary soldier and I knew the moment I saw you that you would be a perfect addition to the 141 and you have proved me right time and time again. You belong on this team just as much as the rest of the boys. Do you understand?”
So many words– proud, proud, proud. That’s all you had wanted to hear for so many years from someone whose opinion mattered to you. You wanted to be seen and Price, this godsend of a man, had seen you and more.
“Kid, do you understand me?”
You nodded once and then realised that Price wouldn’t have been able to tell through your shaking. Tears blurred in the corners of your eyes and you nodded again, not trusting your voice in case it shattered.
“What do you need from me?” Price’s voice was oh so soft, like he was talking to a frightened fawn. He could see how much his words had affected you and it clearly broke his own heart.
“A hug.” Your bottom lip wobbled and his face softened as he opened his arms, twitching his fingers to urge you closer.
“I can do that.”
You leaned into him and he quickly wrapped his arms around you, drawing you in close. You could smell the lingering scent of his last cigar. The smell of his office and cleaning oil. You felt his chin on the top of your head and felt how his chest rumbled as he spoke.
“You’re part of the 141 whether you like it or not, alright? Me and the boys want you here for as long as you want to be.”
At that moment, for the first time in your life. You felt wanted. You felt appreciated and you felt seen.
have a request? send one in!
#eicee personal#eicee rants#eicee writes#call of duty#platonic x reader#john price platonic#platonic task force 141#cod mw2 platonic#platonic relationships#platonic
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` ❛ TRANSMISSION RECEIVED ˒﹚) ↳ send me ✎ ( pencil ) and I'll draw your muse! AMALA SHARMA - @/BURNTSCARS
#' ◁ ılı||ılı ▷ … ¹². 𝙰𝚗𝚜𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚍#' ◁ ılı||ılı ▷ … ¹⁷. 𝙼𝚞𝚗 𝙰𝚛𝚝#' ᴵᴰ : *AMALA.#burntscars#' ❛ When they talk I hear their ghosts — every word they say to me. ❜ … *BURNTSCARS
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⋆˚✿˖° in an attempt to get sheep!reader to be more vocal about what she wants in bed, rafe only gives her what she’s able to say..
warnings: mean!rafe (?), heavyyy teasing, corruption kink (?), fingering, lots of dirty talk, praise, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, cockwarming, light fluff
a/n: i see your req’s for more sheep!reader works, don’t worry i’ll be working on them soon! <3
wc: 1.8k
“come on, ‘pretty, all you have to do is use your words..” rafe’s eyes traveled down your naked form, his fingers ghosting over the soft flesh of your thighs. this was absolute torture. “rafe, i can’t!” you cried, your cheeks heating with embarrassment. your boyfriend took so much pleasure in knowing that you were far too shy to ask for what you wanted, a smug grin gracing his lips as heavy tears threatened to spill from your eyes. you looked away from him, taking your bottom lip between your teeth. “i won’t say it..” you mumbled, gasping softly when rafe dipped a finger between your glossy folds.
“won’t say what?” he taunted, barely stroking your clit before pulling his hand away. you let out a shaky breath, meeting his eyes for the first time during this whole ordeal. “please.” you whimpered pathetically, hoping, begging, rafe will give into your pleas. rafe shook his head, giving your side a little pinch. “i don’t know what you’re asking for.” he shrugged, his cock aching against his briefs. you drew your eyebrows together, your heart beating in your ears as you considered your next words. “i want you to touch me..” you whispered, your chest rising and falling as rafe offered you a teasing smile.
“touch you where? here?” he placed a hand on your knee, “here?” your arm was next, “..or here?” you whined in frustration when you felt his palm rest on your tummy. rafe was purposely making this hard for you, and he was enjoying every second of it. “no!” you spread your thighs in hopes to draw his attention elsewhere. sure enough, rafe looked down, his jaw ticking at the sight of your puffy folds. “fuck.” he cursed under his breath. “i need you down there..” you trailed a foot down his torso, stopping right below his v-line. rafe knew you what you trying to do.
“i don’t know where ‘down there’ is.. i think you have to explain it to me, doll.” rafe wasn’t going to let up. you started thinking of ways to word yourself, the implications of what you had to say only made you more embarrassed. ‘vagina’ felt too proper to use in this situation, ‘pussy’ was too lewd for your liking, and ‘cunt’ sounded so aggressive, you didn’t know what to make of it. swallowing thickly, you knew rafe wanted to hear you say the second option more than anything. in your mind, you thought if you said the dirtiest thing, he would have to give you what you were crying for.. right?
“i want you to touch my—” rafe leaned forward. no fucking way you’d say it. “m-my pussy?” it was comical, seeing the way you avoided his heated gaze. rafe had never heard a curse word fall from your lips, let alone that word specifically. “was that so hard?” rafe laughed, sitting between your thighs as he spread you open, his cock twitching at the sight of your glistening succulence dripping down your cunt. with the pad of his thumb, rafe began circling your sensitive bundle of nerves, the long awaited sensation making your hips roll forward. “don’t move.” he warned, keeping a hand on your hip.
you shuddered, settling into your soft sheets as rafe then prodded a finger at your entrance. he teased your slit, slipping just the tip of his digit inside before gathering your slick and gliding the wetness up to your clit. “feeling empty, huh?” rafe saw you pathetically clench around nothing, your eyebrows knitting together in desperation. “y-yes, please! ‘want your fingers now.” rafe was pleasantly surprised, the second time around seemed to be more easier than the first time you requested something. “look at you, you’re doing great, baby.” your boyfriend praised you, deciding to reward you with two fingers instead of one.
your breath got caught in your throat when you felt the stretch of two digits inside your cunt, your mouth falling open as you hiccuped at the feeling of rafe’s long, thick fingers curling inside of you. still using his thumb to rub your clit, you cried out when you felt him press on that gummy spot that made you see stars. “o-oh!” you whimpered, your thighs shutting around rafe’s hand. forcing your thighs open, rafe leaned his weight on one of your legs, and used his free hand to pin down the other one, forcing you to take what he gave you. “you look so pretty when you don’t know what to do with yourself.”
rafe’s words sounded muffled, your heart beating in your ears when you felt the familiar heat start to simmer in your tummy. your hand rested on top of rafe’s, his fingers interlacing with yours. “you’re taking it so fucking good,” he leaned down, taking your lips in a searing kiss, “gonna make you cum, is that what you want?” you nodded helplessly, in which rafe tsked. “say it. say that’s what you want.” he urged. with the quietest tone you could muster, you spoke. “please make me cum..” rafe would’ve appreciated you saying it a little bit louder, but he figured he was lucky if he got you to say it at all.
picking up his speed on your clit, he watched with dark eyes as your face morphed into one of full blown pleasure, your lips swollen from rafe nipping at them. the wet sounds of your cunt made your cheeks heat, your chest caving in as you teetered the edge of pure euphoria. your hand shot up to grip rafe’s arm, your nails digging into his skin as your thighs trembled from your high washing over you. rafe always stared at you in awe whenever he pushed you over the edge, the little sounds leaving your lips never failed to drive him crazy while your velvety walls squeezed around his digits.
“nghh— rafe!” you squeaked, a string of sobs tumbling from your throat as he continued to bring you down from your high. rafe littered your neck and chest with wet kisses, your fingers running across his scalp. you whimpered when rafe pulled away, your eyes trailing down his toned stomach as he slid off his briefs. wrapping a hand around your ankle, you yelped when he yanked you towards the edge of the bed, running his cock over your still fluttering cunt. “tell me you want me to fuck you,” he groaned when he felt your slick coat his length, “tell me you want my cock inside you.”
you were hysterical at this point, bending at his will as you did what he asked. “please fuck me, ray. ‘want y-your cock inside me!” you repeated, your back arching off of the sheets when he slammed into you without warning. “fuck, baby, you have no idea what you’re doing to me,” rafe leaned down, caging you between his arms, “hearing you talk like that, s’driving me fuckin’ crazy.” you wrapped your legs around his waist, his biceps on either sides of your head. he filled you to the hilt in this position, bottoming out as his pubic bone grazed your clit with every thrust.
your eyes fluttered shut as you held him close to you, his breath fanning against your cheek as he whispered the filthiest obscenities in your ear. nothing else existed when you two were like this. it was like the world stopped spinning whenever he felt you taking him so good. “you’re so fuckin’ perfect, you know that?” he squished your cheeks together with one hand, your eyebrows knitting together as you gazed up at him, “always so pliant with me, ‘makes me wanna see what other fucked up shit i could make you do.” he chuckled, his words sending a shiver down your spine.
rafe could see the slight fear in your eyes, a gentle ‘shhh’ leaving his lips as an attempt to reassure you. “don’t worry, we’ll save that for another day.” he pecked your cheek, his hips snapping into you faster than before. you held onto his broad shoulders, the sound of his skin smacking against yours made you want to curl in on yourself, the lewd echo of it bouncing off of the walls. soon your legs were feeling like jelly and you couldn’t keep them locked around rafe’s build. sensing your struggle, he pinned the back of your knees against your chest, getting a full, clear view of his cock sliding in and out of your soaked pussy.
“ah, fuckkk,” rafe drawled out, absolutely hypnotized at the sight. he glided with ease, your folds hugging him snugly. the grip you had on his cock was enough to make his muscles constrict with the need to fill you up, your pretty clit glistening with his precum. “m’gonna need to film this next time, you’re fuckin’ unreal.” he choked back a groan when you somehow managed to clamp around him even tighter. “h-holy shit,” rafe’s hips stuttered, his face scrunching when he began twitching, your second orgasm of the night hitting you with more force than the first one.
as if on cue, rafe peaked when you gripped the knitted blanket at your side, both of you moaning so loud you were sure ms. celia, the sweet old lady next door, could hear you two. rafe didn’t stop fucking into you until every last drop of his cum was lost in the heaven that was your cunt, his eyes rolling back when he stayed nestled inside of you. rafe helped your legs back down, your chest rising and falling with each breath you took. swallowing thickly, rafe sighed as he leaned down and pressed a kiss to your hairline. “my god..” he looked at you incredulously.
how you had that innocent sparkle in your eyes right after doing what you did was beyond him. “that wasn’t so bad..” you whispered, running a finger down the underside of rafe’s jaw. “no, not at all. you did amazing.” he was still inside you when he leaned all his weight on you. you always felt so safe and secure every time rafe did this. you reveled in the feeling of his heart beating against your own, your eyelids heavy as sleep threatened to come over you. “i could fall asleep like this..” rafe mumbled. you giggled, a lazy smile gracing your features.
as much as you would’ve loved that, a hot shower was far more needed. after ten minutes of convincing rafe you two should get cleaned up for bed, and after round two ensued under the shower head, you and your boyfriend had finally cuddled up under the sheets, his warm skin mingling with yours. once you two exchanged ‘i love you’s’, you were out like a light. the next morning you had went out and checked the mail, spotting ms. celia rocking on her chair with her morning coffee in her hand. “good morning!” you waved, in which she smiled. “how did you sleep, dear?”
“just fine! i had a pretty long night..” butterflies fluttered in your tummy at the memory. “oh, i bet! it sure sounded like it.”
#❤︎₊ ⊹ works#₊˚⊹♡ sheep!reader#outer banks#outer banks smut#outer banks fanfiction#outer banks imagine#rafe outer banks#obx#rafe obx#obx smut#obx fanfiction#obx imagine#obx x reader#rafe cameron#rafe cameron smut#rafe cameron fanfiction#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron blurb#rafe cameron prompt#rafe cameron x y/n#rafe cameron imagine#rafe cameron x you#mean!rafe#rafe fluff#rafe x you#rafe fanfiction#rafe smut#rafe x reader#rafe imagine#drew starkey
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!! female reader; dirty talking; breeding kink; slight overstim play; unrealistic sex x’>
thinking about how simon’s the type to keep saying filth to you when he’s balls deep. how, in the throes of his pleasure, so pussy-drunk, simon begins to wax poetry about the way you make him feel.
he’s got you folded in a mating press, his lips ghosting wet kisses along your trembling legs. “god, baby,” simon murmurs, his voice a drunken slur. “i need t’wife you up, i swear.” he punctuates this with a thrust, before his fingers pinch your clit.
you choke at the feeling, your legs kicking from where they’re slung over simon’s shoulders. your head thrashes against the pillow, not knowing how else to tether yourself from the stinging pleasure, your mouth falling open uselessly as garbled moans spill out.
“oh this,” he says, distracted by your reaction. “cute little thing, isn’t it?” he looks at your pussy almost with a starry-eyed gaze.
jesus-
“shu-ut up, si!” your voice breaks, weakened from the moans, but simon’s already looking too far gone, his eyes blown wide and his face flushed because of his pleasure.
“y’just squeezed me tighter, baby.” simon rips his eyes from your cunt to look at you with a sort of giddy trance. “y’like it when i play with–” he circles his thumb on your clit, making you squeal. “this? yeah? oh, lovie, you’re gushing.”
he pulls out, torturously slow, teasing, then he’s slamming back in. your ears ring at the resounding wet slide, his pelvis meeting your own with a goddamn squelch, and you scream, clawing at his back at the sharp pleasure that razes through you.
“going t’stuff you w’my cum everyday, baby.” simon giggles. “going t’make you so full.”
he nuzzles his nose on the side of your tear-soaked cheek. “y’want that, yeah? want t’feel sore because of how much cum’s stored in you? want t’be fucked until it takes?”
what-
“si! si!” you cry, mushy mind trying to understand what he’s insinuating. “wha- wh-…?”
“oh but you’d be so gorgeous, baby,” simon groans, his hand leaving your oversensitive clit to hike up along your body, dancing past your groin to plant just below your belly button. simon nuzzles close again, tracing the shell of your ear with his lips, then, “you’d be so pretty carrying my kids.”
those words make your body lock up, something in your mind just shifting right, and then you’re cumming, squirting all over simon’s cock and spraying on his legs.
simon outright moans, pulling back just enough to slot his lips against yours. you couldn’t even kiss him back, still so busy cumming, all cross-eyed at the intensity of your orgasm. it doesn’t matter to him, anyway, not when simon begins pistoning harder. faster. rougher.
every drag of his cock back in your pussy pushes more gushing squirt from you, and simon rumbles with a pleased groan, looking so blissed out as he leaves open-mouthed kisses along your jaw. you dig your nails at his back but simon doesn’t even register the prickling pain, too busy chasing his own orgasm through your cunt.
“s’right,” he coos. “nothin’ else could make me cum, baby. nothin’ else but y’r pretty pussy. y’r tight pussy. god, it’s such a delicious pussy, baby, how am i so lucky to have you, huh?” his words mingle with the thwap-thwap-thwap sounds of his body slamming against your own. it makes you dizzy with pleasure, ragged rasps of breath is all that is passing through your parted lips.
simon croons. “how’d i chance luck and end up w’such a delight?” another wet sound from your pussy rings amidst his words. “mmm, hear that baby?”
you nod, you think. or you moan a reply. honestly, you don’t even know, not with how dizzy you are at the peaking pleasure because there’s no way you’re cumming again–
“that’s the sounds that a happy wife makes,” simon purrs, replying to his own question, and the weight of his words washes over you like the pleasure that’s racing across your synapses. “that’s the sound that someone makes when they want to be bred.”
“simo-nnnnn!” you scream, the sound guttural and ragged, and your eyes can no longer see anything, and your ears are ringing, and- and–
simon laughs, the sound curling into something so, so fond. “y’r so pretty when y’cum, baby.” he kisses your wet cheek. “one more? f’r me?”
fuck-
#suns#simon ghost riley x reader#simon ghost riley#simon ghost riley smut#simon riley x reader#simon riley#simon riley smut#female reader#IM CRYING BETWEEN MY LEGS WHEW
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sore and satisfied
words: 1k
warnings: 18+ only!!, smut, p in v sex, unprotected sex (reader is on birth control), dubcon!!, mentions of baby trapping, kinda pregnancy kink? its more of a control thing, dom!rafe, kinda fluffy at the end??, manipulation, bruises
“no.” you whine, feeling rafes rough hands cup your cheeks as he raises your face up to meet his. “im still sore from last time.”
“but you felt so good, right?” rafe questions, his lips ghosting over yours, his breath hot against you, making your mouth drop open, expecting the fierce kiss.
“yes…” it did feel good, even through the rough pounding and spankings and rafe gripping you so tightly you still have bruises.
“and ill be much gentler this time, baby.” rafe finally gives you a kiss, and it's like he's trying to convince you of his ability to stay gentle as his lips glide over yours.
“promise?” you whimper, hands gripping onto rafes shirt as you already start to go weak in the knees.
“of course baby.” rafe grins down at you, and you should have known what that grin meant, but you let him take you upstairs anyways.
his hands are gentle at first, undressing you carefully and praising you, celebrating every inch of your body that gets revealed.
“such a pretty pussy.” rafe says, cocking his head to the side as he looks between your thighs. “already looks ready for me to fuck.”
“need a little-” you're about to ask for something, for rafe to use his mouth again or rub you with his fingers, anything to open you up more, when rafe stands suddenly.
hes stripped naked before you can even blink, cock hard and jutting from his muscled body.
“i thought you said-”
“i haven't been rough yet, have i?” rafe will fight you to get inside your cunt if he has to, but he prefers you be pliable enough for him until he begins fucking you.
“n-no.” you admit, spreading your legs a little wider. sure, you'd prefer to be a little wetter, but if rafe is taking things slowly and gently you should have enough time to open up.
“exactly.” rafe says, letting out an exasperated sigh. “im gonna fuck you now and i don't want to hear you complaining.”
that's when you know you're really in trouble. rafes nice streak is done as he lays himself over your body, not bothering to hold himself up and dropping his full weight onto you.
“rafe!” you squeal out as his cock pushes against your entrance, hesitating for just a beat before he's pushing into you.
to rafes credit, he holds back somewhat. waits just a moment before he begins his punishing strokes, so hard and fast your head is instantly spinning.
rafes hands grip the same bruises on your hips, deepening them again, turning them into darker spots for everyone to see next time you don a swimsuit.
“mine.” rafe growls out, pressing a harsh kiss to your lips that's all teeth and tongue.
you let out a cry when he bites your bottom lip and gives it a tug, but the rush goes straight to your traitorous pussy.
you can feel your wetness growing as he fucks you, your walls becoming slicker and easier to move against.
“that's it.” rafe praises you. “can feel how much you like this.”
you want rafe to stop teasing you, it's bad enough he's abusing your pussy, he doesn't need to add to it with his words too, but even as your hands come up to cover face, he continues.
“my little slut. bet you can cum from just my cock. won't even have to touch your dirty clit to have you gushing around me.”
you know he's right. you can feel your orgasm building despite wanting to beg rafe to slow down, feeling the near painful stretch inside of you and the soreness growing exponentially as he fucks your already hurt pussy.
“soon you're gonna always be ready for me. ill rip your panties off and you'll already be soaked. and the best part is-” rafe is grunting as he talks, his fantasy expanding as his cock pummels you. “you won't even mean to. it'll be your bodies response to my body. trying to protect itself, make it easier, cause less pain.”
“and it will be better for both of us then. you just need to adjust to this, baby.” rafes voice moves to an almost sweet tone, so close to comforting if it wasn't for the fact that he's taking you raw as he talks. “then ill be able to fuck you so easily. and as often as i want without having to worry about your little pussy hurting.”
“okay.” you whisper. you're not sure if you can form any more words, but it's satisfactory enough for rafe as he presses a kiss to your lips.
“gonna cum inside you real soon. gonna fill you up. think you can get pregnant for me baby? swell that little tummy up?”
“rafe.” you pout, a few tears slipping down your cheeks. “stop teasing.”
“aw come on, we both know you're on birth control.” rafe rolls his eyes, but it doesn't stop him from imagining claiming you, showing the world proof of your fucking, proof that you're his and only his.
“but one day ill get you off of it. if i can't convince you maybe ill just have to switch your pills out for placebos. you won't even know until your tummy starts to swell.”
“rafe!” your tone is harsh, and it doesn't go unpunished as rafes thrusts reach even deeper, so far inside of you that you're squirming to get away only for rafe to hold you down into the bed, the mattress squishing under your combined weight.
“gonna cum right into your cervix since you're being a brat.” you can feel when rafe presses against it, your eyes widening as your high suddenly breaks, wetness gushing around rafes cock just like he knew would happen.
your pussy clamps down on rafes cock, keeping him sucked in as he starts to cum, long spurts releasing into your cunt as rafes moans and curses fill the room, echoed with your quieter whines and gasps.
“how's your pussy feel now baby?” rafe asks.
“sore.” you pout, which rafe quickly kisses off your face as he pulls out.
“fine, won't fuck you anymore then since you always complain about it hurting.” rafe shrugs, feigning like he's getting out of bed when you grab his hand and pull him back to your side.
“no!” you say quickly before taking a breath and settling in next to rafe. “no, i never said that.”
“exactly.” rafe puts his arms around you, tugging you into his chest, keeping you close to him, right where he wants you always.
#rafe smut#rafe cameron smut#obx smut#outer banks smut#rafe fic#rafe fanfic#rafe fanfiction#rafe cameron fic#rafe cameron fanfic#rafe cameron fanfiction#rafe x you#rafe x y/n#rafe x oc#rafe x reader#rafe cameron x you#rafe cameron x y/n#rafe cameron x oc#rafe cameron x reader#rafe imagine#rafe blurb#rafe drabble#rafe one shot#rafe cameron imagine#rafe cameron blurb#rafe cameron one shot#rafe cameron drabble#dom!rafe
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do you believe me now? | 2
in which fem!reader is feeling insecure about how inexperienced she is around spencer's friends and seeks his expertise to amend the problem
series masterlist
18+ (smut) warnings/tags: inexperienced reader, oral f receiving, (MUNCH!SPENCE RETURNS), fingering, (very) insecure reader, softdom!spencer, sub reader, nipple stuff, kinda sorta implied age gap, god i'm probably forgetting things pls lmk if i missed something important a/n: i've been laboring at this bad boy every day for so long i had to immediately post once it was completed lol. there will be a part three ... maybe i already started it ..... anyway i love u guys and i hope this is a satisfactory part two!! PLS lmk if you liked it!! hearing from u makes my day :')
When Spencer dropped you off at Penelope’s apartment for your first girl’s night—the hostess had promised you, JJ, and Emily lots of gossip sans 'icky men'—you had been ecstatic. You wouldn’t stop rambling to him about how excited you were.
When he picks you up two and a half hours later, he can hardly get a word out of you.
It’s not his fault, of course—well, not really, anyway. It’s just that all the girls had wanted to talk about was sex. A topic on which you held very little expertise and had essentially nothing to contribute. Out of the four, you were the only non-FBI agent, the youngest, and undoubtedly the least experienced. It was like high school all over again, except you actually desperately wanted to impress Spencer’s friends. All in all, you weaseled your way out of sharing without giving away that you were still very much a virgin. Sure, you could have said ‘we did hand stuff two weeks ago’, but you had a feeling these women wouldn’t consider that very impressive.
But you can’t easily relay that information to Spencer—even when he immediately picks up on your sullen mood. He asks you what’s wrong as you make your way down the echoey staircase, but you hold back, muttering something along the lines of we’ll talk about it later.
Later doesn’t come on the sidewalk outside. It doesn’t come in the car, or at any point during the twenty minute drive, but you feel it rapidly approaching as you climb the stairs to Spencer’s apartment. He unlocks the door and holds it open for you, doesn’t speak as you kick off your shoes and wander aimlessly into the living room.
“Did you eat?” He finally asks, hanging his keys on a hook by the door and glancing over to where you linger in the center of the room like a ghost.
“Not hungry.”
You both know that wasn’t the question, but he lets it go.
“Alright... well, I was thinking—“
“Why haven’t we had sex?”
The question flies from your mouth before you can stop it. It tastes like metal and you wish you could take it back as you stand there, cheeks hot and awaiting a reply. It seems you’ve thoroughly astonished Spencer as he gapes at you like a fish out of water for several silent moments, eventually opting to shove his hands in his pockets and shake his head at the wall as he processes the question.
“I… I don’t know. We just haven’t. Does that bother you?”
Suddenly your whole body feels intolerably warm. Your fingers twitch against your thighs. Of course it bothers you.
“Do you just not want to? You aren’t attracted to me like that?”
God, you despise how fragile your voice sounds—how much you obviously care, how insecure you clearly are. Spencer picks up on it, despite your most fervent wishing that he wouldn’t, and approaches, stopping a few feet away. You stare at the span of oriental design on the floor between your feet.
“That’s not at all what I said, angel. I wish you wouldn’t put words in my mouth.”
“Well, then… say something else,” you plead quietly, childishly, still unable to meet his eyes. Prove me wrong.
He sighs, which does not bode well for you. You wonder if you accidentally triggered the early demise of your relationship and christ do you wish you could rewind. When he steps closer, when his hands find your arms, you’re not sure where to look. But the low, sweet tone of his voice entices you to finally meet his gaze, charmed like a snake as his eyes dart between yours.
“You know that’s not how I feel.”
You shake your head earnestly, looking up at him with wide eyes as he slowly rubs your arms.
“No. No, I don’t know that.”
Spencer frowns, glancing at your lips as he speaks. It’s impossible to not do the same when he’s standing so close.
“But I’ve told you. I don’t understand how you couldn’t know how far from the truth that is.”
You think back to two weeks ago—the first and only time he’d ever done anything more than kiss you. A different kind of flush replaces the shameful one in your cheeks as you try to make your case and not get distracted by the memories of his hands all over you.
“So why won’t you prove it?”
It’d been intended to come out cool, but instead you sound a little desperate, a little out of breath as you realize you and Spencer somehow ended up so close to each other you can feel the warmth radiating from his body.
“Is that what you need from me? More proof?”
He speaks so lowly, his fingers press into the flesh of your arms portentously, and you think maybe you’ve poked the bear one too many times. But you won’t back down now—not when you think you might actually get what you want.
So you look up at him and nod, throat too dry to speak. His eyes are deceptively soft, but you don’t miss the big bad something lurking just beneath the surface of the placid hazel.
“And how do you think I should prove it?”
“I told you what I want,” you whisper, speaking above your pounding heart.
“Not tonight, honey. Choose something else.”
“Well—that’s not fair,” you stammer, “the whole point is for you to want to have sex with me.”
Spencer smiles a little, tucking hair behind your ear. “I do want that. I promise you I do. But there are other things I want us to do first.”
“Then I want to do that, too! I just—I don’t know what I’m doing, and you do, and I’m already out on a limb by asking for this much. I know this is what I want but I need you to take the lead here. I trust you, Spencer.” You top off the monologue with an imploring gaze—hoping it delivers even a fraction of the impact that his puppy-dog eyes always have on you.
He seems to study every square inch of your face as you wait in suspense for him to say something. At long last, his lips part—to no avail for several more seconds as he regards you.
When the words finally do come, they’re an immense relief of pressure.
“You’re going to promise me that you’ll communicate honestly. That means telling me if we need to slow down or stop, or if you don’t like something—”
“I promise,” you say, perhaps over-eagerly, offering him your extended little finger.
An incredulous smile narrows his eyes.
“Is this a pinky-promise?”
“It is.” You wiggle the finger in emphasis, and he shakes his head, smiling wider as you link pinkies.
“I left you with Garcia for far too long.”
You shush him, disentangling your hands to cup his jaw and press your lips to his. It’s sweet and smiley until it isn’t—until everything slows down like sticky molasses and his hand is ghosting over your cheek, your neck, the curve of your waist, finally substantiating itself on your hip—the other encouraging you to tilt your head back as he deepens the kiss and you feel yourself melting under the heat of his touch.
The pressure of his body against yours builds until you’re forced to take a step back, and then another, and another. Without question you allow yourself to be herded toward the bedroom, walked slowly backward as he keeps kissing you and blindly trusting he’ll make sure you don’t run in to anything. The bedroom door clicks shut behind him, and it is in all practicality a pointless gesture—but you find it incredibly comforting nonetheless.
It’s too warm beneath your sweater and his hands are cool as they slip under the hem, sliding against the curve of your hip. Spencer’s never seen you without a shirt, you realize, as he pulls away from the kiss by only centimeters.
“Off?” he mutters, thumbing at the knit fabric. And while you’re far from confident, you’ve certainly been making progress in this area. You help him tug it over your head without a word, noting a distinct and surprising lack of terror within yourself as you watch for his reaction to you. Hands glide slowly up your waist and you find yourself enchanted by the slight furrow of his brow, the parting of his lips. He traces down the lacy edge of your bra, skimming sensitive skin as he goes.
“Pretty,” he murmurs. “You’re… so pretty.”
It seems you’ve rendered him uncharacteristically prosaic. The reaction might be underwhelming if it were anyone else—but Spencer Reid is a man who probably knows every synonym for pretty in the English language. Looking at you, he can’t think of a single one. In an odd way, it’s the highest compliment he could pay you. Your cheeks heat and your stomach flips as he drags a knuckle up the center of the cup, and you can feel it through the layers of lace and fabric. He leans forward, ghosting his lips over yours and continuing to run his fingers over the sensitive spot. “Do you know how pretty you are?”
This is one argument you will not be winning—one he’ll keep bringing up at the most inopportune times until he gets his way.
“Spencer…”
“Don’t Spencer me. I’m asking you a question.”
The words don’t seem nearly as harsh as they really are when they’re delivered velvet-soft, with his lips and hands on you—when he’s so deftly popping the button on your jeans and dragging the zipper down with all the quickness of a slight-of-hand. It makes it hard to focus, even harder to speak.
“We have… we have differing views on this matter.”
Generous handfuls of your hips and ass are taken as he helps you tug down your jeans before you kick them off, now left just in your underwear.
“I thought I argued my point fairly well last time you were here. You didn’t learn anything from that?”
“Mm… maybe you just need to remind me.”
“Oh, I think I have to,” he agrees through a smile you can only hear. Gentle fingers skim up your back and tap the clasp of your bra. “How about this? Can we take this off?”
Any confidence from earlier crumbles and you loose a nervous hum—which is not the enthusiastic yes you’re sure Spencer will be seeking all evening. He pulls away, features etched with the beginnings of concern and a searching gaze. Asking would be unnecessary; the words simply come tumbling out of you.
“What if you don’t like how I look?”
Spencer doesn’t even blink.
“That’s not going to happen.”
How you wish you could have the same assuredness in yourself that he seems to.
“But what if… what if you’ve been with other girls who are more, like—I don’t know, just—better? Prettier?”
“Honey, you’re—” a sigh, a pause as he searches for the words—his eyes dart up and down your form, assessing, and when he looks back up at you, they’ve cleared and softened. He pulls you a little closer, rubbing circles into your back with his thumb. “I’m not thinking about anyone else right now. I’m not interested in anyone else right now. I already think you’re perfect, and I’m going to keep thinking that regardless of how you look. When I look at you, I’m not looking for things to critique. Do you understand me?”
As far as sentiments go, it’s a nice one. But the pressure of being seen still feels like an impossible burden. You whine, leaning your head against Spencer’s chest. He accepts your weight and runs his hand over your back as you look up at him.
“But what if I’m hideously deformed?”
His eyebrows raise.
“You’re not.”
“But what if I am?”
“Okay. It seems like you don’t feel ready yet, which is completely fine, we just won’t—”
“No!” you protest. “I am ready. I am. But… you have to promise to be nice to me no matter what. Or break up with me if you don’t like what you see so I don't have to wonder.”
“You’re ridiculous,” he says, kissing you, “and the only thing I’m willing to promise is that I’ll think you’re perfect. Me being nice will come as a natural byproduct of that which is very different than being nice by artifice. Take it or leave it.”
A moment of hesitance—but it’s short-lived. This is more important than your insecurities. Spencer is more important.
“Take it,” you mumble against his lips. His fingers trace up the smooth skin of your back, all the way to the fabric and metal hooks on your bra.
“Thank you.”
You wouldn’t have thought Spencer’s genius would manifest in being really good at undoing the clasp of a bra, but you can truly say you’re impressed by the ease with which he does it. It falls to the floor, leaving you completely shirtless for the first time in front of him.
“Well?” you murmur, arms crossed defensively underneath your chest, because you understand overtop would sort of ruin the whole thing. “What’s the verdict?”
“You,” Spencer manages after a moment—you literally watch him memorizing every square inch of your body— “are ridiculously beautiful.”
The way his voice gets quieter makes your stomach flip. It sounds genuine. Too genuine to be faked.
“So… no breakup?”
It seems that the more vulnerable you feel, the less likely you are to take a compliment. Spencer, who is always seeking patterns, probably recognizes this one, and doesn’t push you so hard this time. After a silent moment, he sighs and cradles your face in his hands.
“You’re gorgeous. I hate how incapable you are of seeing that. We’re going to talk about this.”
“Yeah, but not right now, right?” you murmur, standing up on your tiptoes to kiss him.
“Not right now,” he agrees.
His lips are so soft and gentle against your own it feels like love, it feels like being talked down from the ledge of your own insanity. Somehow the way he strokes your hip feels more nurturing than sexual. It’s like he has sex and chaste affection on tap, able to turn them on and off at will. You’re happy to drown in either. Ideally, both.
After a while, his hands begin roaming farther, become bolder in their excursions over your flesh. Up, down, over your waist and ribs. Clearly Spencer had been trying to ease you into it, but you still can’t hide your sharp inhalation when his thumbs graze the sensitive skin of your breasts. He pulls his lips from yours, hands splayed over your sides.
“Sit down.”
It’s much too gentle to be a command, but you frown.
“Without you?”
“I’m not going anywhere,” he chuckles, lightly squeezing your waist. “Just sit. Utilize patience.”
You sit on the edge of the bed with an atypical reticence—you’re just a little too nervous for a snippy comeback. Spencer picks up on this, features softening sympathetically as he undoes his tie with nimble fingers. It lands somewhere on the bed and he leans over you, resting his weight on his fists and offering you a quick kiss. His voice is soft and designed to soothe as he speaks, mere inches away from your face, and so quiet it could only be heard at this range.
“Are you nervous?” Cloth from the duvet pinches between your fingers. For a moment you don’t reply, dropping your head to watch when Spencer runs his hand over your thigh. “It’s okay if you’re feeling anxious, baby. We don’t have to do anything tonight.”
You expel a frustrated huff.
“I want to. Just because I’m nervous doesn’t mean I don’t want this. I can handle a little bit of anxiety.”
He hums, dropping to a crouch and inserting himself directly in your line of sight.
“I know you can. But you don’t always have to push yourself so hard.”
“I’m fine pushing myself a little. I pinky-promised I would tell you if I wanted to stop, remember?”
“Oh, how could I forget a pinky-promise?” he smiles.
How could you forget anything, you think, becoming flushed and silently insolent at his dulcet teasing.
“Please, do something.” It’s a whisper, brushing his lips as you lean down until you’re nose to nose. His hands are on the back of your legs.
“I’m working on it.”
“It doesn’t look like it.”
“You’re smart, angel. Tell me why I've got you naked on my bed and I’m kneeling in front of you. Where could I possibly be taking this?”
Oh, you have a pretty strong inkling—but you’re scared to voice it and be wrong. Instead of risking it you shake your head slowly, shyly. What you’re not expecting is for Spencer to duck his head down, slide his hands up the side of your thighs and press kisses to the delicate skin there. It feels good—better than you’d have thought.
“You don’t know?” he asks, looking up at you through burnished gold-rimmed pupils. “No guesses?”
“No guesses,” you agree breathlessly, hotter than you were when you had your clothes on and all the energy in your body condensed into one point between your legs. Spencer hums like he’s considering your answer, smoothing his thumbs over the soft skin of your thighs so gently it feels like burning.
“I don’t think you’re being entirely truthful. Lie back, sweetheart.”
You do as you’re told, scooting up on the mattress and falling back on your elbows. Spencer wastes no time in climbing over you, leaving you in much the same position as the last time you’d been in his bed. The sheets feel cool against your bare skin, but he is exceptionally warm and solid over you.
“I’m being honest.” Lie. “I don’t know what you’re going to do.”
Lips find the most sensitive spot of your neck, dancing over it torturously. The front of his shirt brushes your chest. Your thighs clamp together.
“I don't like being lied to. Just say it, baby. I know you know.”
“Spencer,” you whine, fists bunching the excess fabric around his waist. Warm breath condensates on the skin of your neck as he chuckles.
“You don’t like being teased, huh?”
“Please, Spence,” you whisper. You notice the pattern of his breathing pause momentarily before it all comes rushing out at once—and you catalogue that particular plea for later usage.
“I can’t say no when you ask me like that.”
You push your fingers into his soft hair.
“I know.”
It was a lucky guess.
He’s still for a moment, relishing the feeling of your hands in his hair, before darting up to kiss you.
“I’m going to use my mouth this time,” he murmurs against your lips. Though you knew that was what he intended, your heart stumbles in its perpetual march. “Is that okay?”
“What if I…”
You trail off. This is a very intimate situation which you’re not quite sure you have delicate enough language for. Or maybe you’re just stalling. Either way, Spencer is eternally patient with you.
“You need to stop worrying so much, pretty girl. I’d love to do this for you. But it’s your call.”
“Love is a pretty strong word.”
“Sometimes I think not strong enough.”
The way he’s looking down at you so tenderly, brushing hair from your face, makes you think maybe he’s not just talking about how much he would love to go down on you. Regardless, it fortifies your trust in him. Spencer is the kindest person you know. He’s so clearly an enthusiastic giver. Why not allow him to give you this?
“Okay,” you breathe. “You can—yeah.”
As usual, you’re impressively awkward, but he doesn’t seem to mind. In fact, you think he not-so-secretly delights in being the one to fluster instead of the other way around. Rarely has he mentioned his past romantic and sexual exploits, but gathering bits and pieces, you assume he was a fairly late bloomer. He probably knows what it’s like to be nervous and so deeply unsure of yourself.
“Do you remember what you promised me?” he whispers, pressing butterfly-light kisses to your jaw. Your eyes flutter shut as his lips traverse down your neck, teeth skimming over the delicate skin while your breath catches.
“Mhm.”
“You’re not gonna break that promise, are you?”
His voice, soft and muffled by your skin, is the most exhilarating and disorienting high. Your entire body buzzes with anticipation, satisfied only where his lips soothe and his body presses against yours. It takes a moment for you to remember to reply.
“No.”
Reward comes in the form of his thumb brushing over the peak of your breast at the same time as he murmurs, “good girl.”
Your stomach flips at the endearment—you squeak and arch into him slightly. Spencer’s hand slides down your ribs as he chuckles, lips pressed just above your collarbone.
“You’ve never called me that before,” you shudder as he continues kissing over your neck.
“It’s not appropriate in most conversational contexts. But I can tell you’ve always been good.”
“Really? How?”
Spencer pauses, pushing himself up to regard you with searching eyes. The places he’d kissed feel cold without him.
“I just can. You’re thinking too much, baby. I need your focus on me.”
“It is on you,” you huff.
You watch his expression shift minutely. He loves games. Of course he’d love playing with you. That knowledge is why you’re only partially surprised when his thumb catches on your nipple again.
“Is it? You’re only thinking about how it feels when I touch you here?”
A stammering nod.
He toys with the sensitive flesh only a second more, amusement lighting his eyes, before dragging his hand down, down, down until it’s between your legs. Fingers trail over your clothed core, skimming the most sensitive part of you while your breath hitches.
“Tell me how it feels when I touch you here.”
“Really good,” you admit, a heavy exhale escaping parted lips as he pins you with his gaze.
“Really good, right. I can make it feel even better. Do you want me to make it feel better?”
Your thighs drop fully open and he adds just a bit more pressure until you’re pushing against his hand in search of more friction.
“Yes please.”
“Then no more questions. I need you to trust me.”
Your answer is a breathy, dreamy sigh—you’d do anything, say anything for him.
“Okay.”
Spencer kisses you, absorbing your noises of protest as his hand ceases between your legs and settles on your hip. But you’re trusting him. No whiny complaining. No unnecessary questions.
Things go much quicker once you’re not interrupting him every twenty seconds to say something. His lips reattach to your neck, retracing their path (albeit quicker) until he’s below your collarbone. You watch in rapt fascination, twisted brows and parted lips as he peppers kisses down over your breast before dragging his tongue over your nipple. A jolted little moan spills out because you hadn’t been prepared to hold one in. Waves of hair fall over Spencer’s face, obscuring him from your vision, but you don’t think to push it away—your body is too busy processing the sensation to be much use on any other front. He darts his tongue over the peaked flesh, eliciting more little open-mouthed exhalations of pleasure from you. Earlier you hadn’t really thought it necessary for your bra to come off—you had no idea this could actually feel so good. A moment later he begins toying with the other nipple and you gasp as a bolt of heat goes straight to your core.
You curse, further words catching in your throat as he suddenly switches, mouthing at your other breast and letting the cold air chill the other until you have goosebumps. It feels a little like hypnosis—you’re unable to move or speak as his tongue laves over you. Soon he’s replacing his mouth with a thumb again, sucking a mark onto your tit just above your nipple. You whimper a little at the pleasant brutality of it, hoping as he releases that it won’t soon fade. Spencer swipes over the stinging skin and presses a tender kiss to it, almost like an apology—but you sincerely doubt he’s actually sorry.
Then he resumes his descent, leaving soft kisses down between your breasts, over your ribcage and stomach—when he reaches your hips, he doesn’t pull off your underwear all at once. Rather, he slides the fabric down centimeter by centimeter, kissing the revealed skin like it’s precious.
This time you don’t need to be told to lift your hips. He helps you slip the final piece of clothing down and off of your legs, flinging it somewhere blindly before getting comfortable between your thighs once more. Your heart pounds with arousal and anxiety as his arms wrap around your thighs and his hands rub up and down the tops of them slowly.
“God, you’re fucking beautiful,” he mumbles, loosening his hold on one leg to thumb at your folds. They glisten in the dim light of his bedroom as he gently reveals your clit. A soft whine escapes you when he nudges at the aching bud, slipping over it a few times and alleviating a bit of the pressure that’s been building. “Shh, baby. I know. I’m gonna take care of it. You’re being so good for me.”
Fuck. The way he talks to you makes your brain turn to mush—you’re utterly incapable of forming an intelligent thought. Spencer has rendered you a complete idiot, and you’re not upset about it in the slightest.
He presses more gentle kisses to the creases between your thighs, just above your clit—everywhere except for where you need him most. Everything aches for him in the best way and at least you’re too turned on to be very insecure anymore. All you want is relief. But you’re trusting him.
Thankfully, he delivers.
The tip of his tongue grazes so lightly over your clit that if you weren’t this worked up you may not have felt it at all. In your current state, however, the stimulation echoes through every atom of your being. Every muscle is tense, frozen in place—you can’t even breathe for a second. He does it again, a little flatter, with a little more pressure, and you whimper. It’s a delicate thing, almost pained and definitely overwhelmed as he gently begins working his tongue against you. Your head cranes up to watch, your jaw drops. Approximations of curse words try to form, but come out only as, “f-fu—oh,” so whiny and soft it doesn’t even sound like you. He hums sympathetically, but you suspect it morphs into a chuckle as you continue to gasp and mewl.
There are times where you can hold back sounds of pleasure. When you’re by yourself, it’s typically not a problem. Two weeks ago when Spencer was knuckle deep in you for the first time, it had certainly been a challenge, and you’d pretty much given up. But this—this is something else entirely. It feels like religion. It feels like compulsion. Even if you had the slightest modicum of control over yourself, which you currently don’t, you wouldn’t want to keep quiet. You want him to know what he’s doing to you.
So you let every cry, every whine and whimper drag from your lungs, unbidden and unshaped. You’re new at this, after all—every broad lick feels so good that you have no fucking idea what do to with your hands or how to stop rolling your hips or how to censor your sounds.
“Spencer,” you keen in one of the moments you remember to breathe. He moans against you, taking you into his mouth and sucking lightly. Your hips buck. “Oh, my—fuck!”
The hand that’s still around your thigh rubs soothing lines up and down. The one that’s spreading you open pulls your folds apart a little bit further, granting him more access to your clit. He flicks his tongue and you almost come then and there, vision going gray for a split second.
“Wait, wait, Spence—“ you squeak, writhing and trying not to squeeze your thighs together for fear of hurting him. He pulls back and looks up at you, lips shining with your slick and eyes glazed with lust. Fuckfuckfuck he looks so fucking good. “Please, just… slow down, or I’m gonna… or it’s gonna be over.”
The corner of his mouth twitches as he rubs circles into your inner thigh.
“It’s over when you say it’s over. You don’t have a refractory period. We don’t have to stop at one.”
“Oh—you don’t—you don’t have to do that,” you stammer.
“I know I don’t have to. But if you want me to, I want to. You taste so good, angel girl.”
Well, shit.
He looks absurdly sexy between your legs like this. You have no idea how you got so lucky, but you don’t plan on taking it for granted. Your fingers tangle in his hair.
“I don’t know if I can do more than one,” you admit shyly, slightly embarrassed by how little you know about yourself and in general compared to Spencer. Hazel eyes sparkle in the warm light.
“How about we start with one and see how it feels?”
Your voice is breathy when you respond, “okay,” already impatient for him to get back to it. Spencer seems just as eager, immediately kissing between your legs with a passion that makes your lips jealous.
The flat of his tongue presses circles against you and your hips buck, already ramping up to that point you’d been at before calling a time-out. Slowly his fingers find their way to your entrance and he teases you with them, dipping in to the first knuckle before withdrawing again. If you could form words, you’d beg him to just do it already, but all you can manage is an affronted whine as you tilt your hips down, hoping he catches the meaning.
Of course he does—pushing two fingers inside you at once. The intrusive stretch adds a sharp edge to the pleasure, makes it more interesting, as your brain short-circuits and you choke out a moan. It only takes a few slow pumps of his fingers in tandem with the pressure of his tongue until your hips are writhing and you’re and mewling desperately, more overwhelmed with pleasure than you’ve ever been. You push his hair back, able to see him for the first time, and fully appreciate the hollow of his cheeks, the way he looks up at you with perfect, glassy half-lidded eyes, the rhythm of his hand and tongue—he takes your clit between his lips once more, sucking lightly, and you’re done for. A pornographic sob escapes from deep within you as you come, but he doesn’t stop. The orgasm lasts longer than you knew one could—although, it’s only your second time, so you don’t exactly have a lot of data to go off of. Your entire body feels warm and floaty, and what he’s doing feels so good you want him even deeper—but you know he won’t give you that yet. Instead you focus on the slow burn of your orgasm, allowing him to carry on for a while until you begin slowly drifting back to earth and it becomes a bit too much. He recognizes the barely-there whine for what it is and pulls his fingers from you carefully, pressing one final kiss to your clit that makes your legs twitch and summons a weak little moan.
Spencer’s lips find other avenues, over the delicate skin of your thighs and hips and stomach as he slowly drags himself up again. By the time you’re face to face again you’re still breathing hard. You sort of feel like prey underneath his weight, studied so scrupulously, known far more intimately by him than anyone has ever known you before. But there is so much light and kindness in the way he looks at you that you almost can’t make sense of it.
Maybe it’s possible to be known and still wanted. The possibility spins like a coin on its edge in your mind. An idea you spent so much time trying to nurture and is only just now beginning to sprout. Maybe someone could see you at your most vulnerable, and still find you worthy of kindness. Appreciation. Affection.
Spencer certainly could, it seems, as he ducks down to kiss you. You dodge it, turning your head demurely. He nudges his head against yours, speaking so, so softly, utterly cloying as he teases, “what? You’re not gonna kiss me now? Is that how it is?”
“No!” you balk, equally as quiet and especially bashful. “Not when you… no.”
“Let me kiss you,” he pleads, so earnestly you turn your head back to face him. His big eyes are hazy, reflecting all the warmth and dizziness you feel. “Let me kiss you. Please.”
You whine.
“I don’t wanna… taste… myself.”
Spencer doesn’t miss a beat.
“Hm. We’ll need to work on that. Because one day, I’ll make you come just like that again, and then I’m going to fuck you, and you’re really going to want me to kiss you then, angel.”
Something flickers in your core.
Suddenly you’re not so squeamish. You really want him to kiss you now. But it seems he’s going to have his fun, first.
“Open.” Without even thinking about it, your lips part. He really ought to be careful with what he tells you to do—you’re all too compliant. Even as his fingers slip between your lips, you’re obediently hollowing your cheeks around them, watching him with big eyes as his own mouth falls slightly open. “Oh, baby,” he croons. “What are we gonna do with you?”
That flicker has returned to a full-fledged throbbing once you open your mouth again, slightly dizzy from lack of oxygen.
“Can you make me come again right now?” you whisper, grasping lightly at his shirt. He grins like he loves the idea—and you let him have his way, accepting his lips on yours with no complaint. After a few moments, (the taste is surprisingly unobtrusive), he pulls away.
“I would love to.”
-
part three
#spencer reid#spencer reid smut#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid fic#spencer reid x self insert#spencer reid fanfic#criminal minds fanfic#criminal minds smut
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Routines
Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x Reader
wc: 1.4k words
warnings/tags: fluff, Simon worshipping reader, brief allusions to smut
credits to @lettaniko for the incredible Ghost art!!
“At that point I was about ready to fall asleep. I swear to you Si, these meetings are so pointless.” You state loud enough for him to hear you over the sound of the shower. Your eyes are closed, tilting your head back into the stream as you rinse off the final step of your weekly long shower routine, knowing Simon’s somewhere in the bathroom listening to you go through your day.
You’ve got your back turned to him so you can’t see him, but you picture him leaning against the sink, with his muscular arms bulging as they’re crossed in front of his wide chest. Or maybe he’s got his hands reaching back to grip the edge of the counter top.
He is facing the shower door after all. And though the water has fogged up the glass, his heavy gaze can still make out your bare, sultry figure moving only a few feet away from him.
He hums along in response to your ranting when appropriate, letting you know that he’s following along, as he always does. When he hears the sound of you shutting the water off, he can’t help the smirk that slides across his face. His favourite part is about to begin, after all.
Just as he does every time, Simon grabs a new fluffy towel off the rack, holding it open for you as you step out of the shower. Like a man on a mission, he diligently wraps the towel around your wet figure, pressing small kisses to the specks of water dotted across your shoulders.
“And you know it’s not like I’m not paying attention, but when we keep repeating the same stuff over and over-” you continue to explain to him as he slides his palm down to your waist, giving it a slight squeeze as he reaches over and grabs another towel, this time handing it to you.
“Jus’ say the word, lovie.” He informs you, taking a small step back to give you the space to flip your dripping hair up into the towel. “Told ya already, don’t needa be workin’ so much anymore.” Both towels now secure in place, he scoops you up by your hips, earning himself a sweet giggle from his birdie, gently placing you atop the counter. “Lemme take care of ya.”
“You always take care of me, Simon.” You correct him, reaching a hand up to lovingly run along his jawline, scratch along his neck and into the soft hairs at the base of his neck. He can’t fight the soft groan of pleasure that slips between his lips at the feeling of your hands on him. “Such good care. But I’d go crazy when you’re gone for more than like, two consecutive days. At least I get to talk to people at work…”
As you’re speaking to him, Simon’s hands are reaching out towards the products laid out atop the counter next to you. He starts with your favourite scented lotion, scooping himself a general amount before kneeling down before you.
His large calloused hands, which have seen more blood and violence that any man his age should, handle you with such reverence and utter care, you would think he was afraid of breaking you. Simon hasn’t always been the best at expressing his feelings towards you through words. He didn’t grow up in a home where words of affirmation were shared over meals, where affection flowed through one another seamlessly, where love was expressed regularly.
But he’s learning. For you, he’s learning. And what he cannot always show through words, he makes up for tenfold through his actions. You can feel the love Simon holds for you as he massages the lotion onto your feet, your ankles, calves, working his way up your limbs. All while listening to you drone on and on about whatever it is you want to tap his ear off about this time.
Always listening to you, hanging off of your every word as though it were invaluable scriptures, and not just complaints about your workplace. And he does it all with such patience and almost gratitude. Gratitude that week after week you allow him to be in your space, to witness you performing such mundane tasks, to partake in your sacred routine and to be a part of what makes you so soft, at least on the outside.
“Maybe a couple more years, eh? When you decide to stop getting shot at as a career,” you tease, earning you a slight smack against your thigh, where he’s now worked his way up to spreading your lotion, inching the towel up just high enough to reach your skin. “Maybe we’ll move somewhere quiet, find ourselves a cute little cottage, close enough that we can still get our favourite take-aways though, mind you.”
Having finished massaging nearly ever available inch of your lower half, Simon scoops up some more lotion, using his other hand to delicately peel away the towel wrapped around your chest. He offers you a glance, almost as if asking permission to remove the garment, as though he hasn’t seen and worshipped everything underneath it. As though this isn’t your routine every week. You give him a nod, and the towel slips off your figure, leaving you sitting bare in front of your mountain of a man.
“Hmm,” His hum is one of agreement. His hands have begun to massage your hands, your arms, working up to your shoulders and collarbones. “Sounds nice. Hop off for me, beautiful.” At his request, you slide yourself off the counter now firmly pressed between the sink and the 6’4” shadow that follows you everywhere. You slowly turn around so that your back is pressed to his front and you are both facing the mirror.
His hands begin to run along your tummy, massaging the soft flesh he finds there, before his digits make their way up to your waiting breasts. He takes his sweet, sweet time in worshipping your chest, his gaze never straying from your face in the mirror, watching for your every reaction as his fingers glide along your sensitive nipples.
“How many bedrooms are in this cottage, hm?” He ponders as his head drops forward to press a kiss to your temple. You can feel him hardening through his pants against your bare ass, and a thrill runs up your spine.
“Uh, at least two, I suppose? A guest room if ever the boys want to come and stay?” You reply, steadily losing your will to hold a normal conversation as his fingers become more insistent across your tits, his bulge pressing up against behind you.
“Where we putting all those babies I plan to fuck into you then, eh lovely?” He asks so casually, as though he was simply wondering where you’d place a too large piece of furniture. At the sound of your burst of laughter, Simon finds himself smiling wider. God, he’s always smiling around you isn’t he?
“Well,” you tell him, meeting his eyes in the mirror. “How’s about you start by putting said baby in me, and then we’ll figure out rooming situations.” You’re teasing him, but this isn’t the first time he’s brought up wanting to have kids with you. Just the idea of carrying his baby around, proof of the love you two have for one another, a human life you created together, has your knees going weak.
“Like I said, you just give me the word, love.” He finishes with a kiss to the other side of your head, deciding he’s given your breasts enough of a groping for now. He’s reaching for your skin care products next, nodding towards the counter for you to hop up once again.
And so the routine continues, Simon lovingly applies your serums and moisturizer to your face, tenderly brushing his fingers against each freckle, each beauty mark, each imperfection that he wishes to photograph in his memory forever. He’s combing out your damp locks, helping to apply any product you’re wanting to use in your hair as well. His hands are never not touching you, never not helping you in some way.
Finally, Simon is carrying you bridal style out of the bathroom, leading you towards his side of the closet, grabbing whichever one of his oversized t-shirts you point out, and helping you slip it on. When your head pokes through and your glowing eyes reach his once more, with a content smile stretch across your face, he reaches out with both palms to cradle the back of your neck, pulling you in for a sweet kiss, mindful of all the products he’s just applied to your skin.
He’s always taking care of you, your Simon.
#call of duty fic#call of duty fanfic#call of duty#cod fluff#cod fic#cod fanfic#simon riley fluff#simon ghost riley fluff#simon ghost riley x you#simon riley#simon riley x you#simon ghost x reader#simon riley x reader#simon ghost riley#ghost fic#ghost x y/n#ghost x you#ghost fanfic#ghost x reader#ghost cod#readwritealldayallnight
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that's that me, espresso l y.jh
❥ Synopsis: Jeonghan fucks you hard, Jeonghan fucks you good. You both know that much, so why do you refuse to give him the time of day outside of bed?
❥ Genre: Smut, Desperate Jeonghan, Reader is closed off, one sided pining (until it's mutual), Fuckgirl!reader, Formula One drivers!Seventeen, Reader is a life guard (so is Joshua!) theres also like angst if u really squint.
❥ Warnings: *takes a deep breath* unprotected sex, degradation, praise, choking, implied face slapping, multiple sex scenes (like 3), creampies (ew i hate that word!!!), exhibitionism, jeonghan is a little mean during sex but its okay, jeonghan fucks her while seungcheol listens in but she does not know, fingering, oral, face fucking, car sex, jeonghan cums in her and makes her keep it inside while they play beach volleyball, reader likes to send videos of her sleeping with other people (cheol and josh) to jeonghan to mess with him. i think thats it.
❥ Word count: 8.6k
a/n: so im finally done this LMAOO. huge. huge. HUGE!!!! thank u to everyone who helped me with this fic @hanniesluvr my lovely aera my fellow jeonghan freak my WIFE!!! for keeping me motivated through this and matching my freak, @haologram for the banner and basically ghost writing this (if u like the whole f1 driver thing, thank alta :D) and @dearlyjun for using her big huge sexy brain and f1 knowledge and helping a girl out ANDD!!!! @jihyokat for beta reading i love u all MWAH <3 ANYWAYS!!! here she is <3 hope u enjoy :D
“You’re already leaving?” Jeonghan called out from behind you, watching as you redressed yourself. Jeonghan knew you never stayed. Well, you never stayed with him at least.
You let out a laugh, ”You know I'm not staying” Jeonghan let out a groan at that, annoyed that he’s seen you stay the night with other hookups but not him. Why not Jeonghan? He was hot, he fucked good, he fucked hard (the way you like it), he fit all of the requirements that made him a good fuck buddy. So why did you refuse to spend the night with him every time you hooked up?
The answer was simple, you didn’t want to stick around when you know they’re gonna catch feelings. You know Jeonghan is going to get attached too easily if you keep staying. But there’s something about him that’s just too good to let go.
The first time you and Jeonghan had sex, it wasn’t like anything you’ve ever experienced before. Jeonghan was different. He single-handedly fulfilled all of your depraved fantasies on your first night together. You never thought that someone like Jeonghan would be so…nasty in bed but the second you followed him back to his car you were in for a surprise to say the least.
For someone who looked like an angel, he sure didn’t act like one in bed.
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You were invited to the party Jeonghan threw to celebrate his win in Las Vegas. Your best friend and second place winner tonight, Mingyu, drove you to the venue with him. You could hear the music booming before you even got to the entrance of the nightclub. It was huge and the only other person you knew at this party was Seungkwan, Mingyu’s teammate.
The moment you were let into the club your eyes landed on Boo Seungkwan, the other man you were expecting to see tonight. His eyes locked with yours and immediately they lit up. He was conversing with Yoon Jeonghan, the man of the night and no matter how many times you’ve seen the man on TV, it’s nothing compared to the real deal. Jeonghan was nothing short of ethereal. If you didn’t know any better you’d think he was an angel on earth, not one of the top racers on the whole grid.
“Y/n!” Seungkwan shouted over the crowd, your smiles mirroring each other as Mingyu led you through the ocean of bodies. “You look fucking stunning tonight dude” He left the group he was talking with to pull you away from Mingyu. You were aware of how good you looked tonight. You chose not to drive to the party tonight in plans of going home with someone at the party and you knew that you had to dress to impress. With your little black dress and matching stiletto pumps, you were sure you’d get someone to either A) buy you a drink or B) take you back to theirs.
…Hopefully both?
“Thanks Kwannie! I thought maybe I’d dress to impress tonight” Seungkwan snickered at that, “Why? got any plans tonight?” He wiggled his eyebrows, looking over your shoulder at Mingyu, implying you’d be going back to his place after this. Typical Seungkwan, he was always so determined to someday expose that you and Mingyu were secretly hooking up on the down low but that day won’t be soon.
“Fuck no! You know damn well i would never fuck Mingyu of all people” Lies. You and Mingyu did hook up once and never again. Not that it was bad but because on your way out that day you met the one and only Choi Seungcheol, Yoon Jeonghan’s teammate at Ferrari. You and Seungcheol have been hooking up on the down low since. You wrapped up the conversation with Seungkwan and made your way around the club, searching for Mingyu.
“Hey!” A tap on your shoulder caught your attention, You turned around and there was the man of the night, Yoon Jeonghan, you watched him give you a once over before meeting your eyes. “Hi! Jeonghan, right?” You were quick to introduce yourself, maintaining eye contact as best as you could. It wasn’t easy when his big brown eyes were looking deep into your own and to make it worse, his pretty face was glowing, the aftermath of a huge victory on the track today.
“Are you looking for your boyfriend?” Jeonghan frowned, eyes searching around looking for whoever he supposed was your boyfriend.
“Boyfriend?” You snickered, “Who’s my boyfriend dare I ask”
“Mingyu, no?”
You burst into laughter, hand resting on his shoulder for reassurance. “Mingyu is not my boyfriend, we’re just friends. And yes, I was looking for him”
Jeonghan sighed in relief. “Thank God, Mind if I buy you a drink?”
BINGO!
Jeonghan led the way to the bar where he bought you your drink of choice, a Vodka Tonic. You were sitting on a bar stool with your back to the bar while Jeonghan stood in front of you, looking down at you and taking in your figure. “You look amazing tonight by the way” He smiled at you as he watched you take a sip of your drink, smiling creeping onto your face at both the taste of your drink and the compliment.
“Thank you, I put it on in hopes to go home with someone tonight” You gazed up at him expectantly.
“Oh? Is that so?” Jeonghan smirked, stepping forward to situate himself between your legs, leaning his head down enough to where his lips were hovering over yours.
“Wanna take me home?” You smiled with faux innocence, downing your drink before Jeonghan pulled you up and off your seat and out of the club.
────────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────────────
The drive back to his hotel was exhilarating, Jeonghan feeling up your bare thighs while he drove while you leaned over the center console and pressed kisses all over his neck earning you halfhearted warnings. He knows you shouldn't be distracting him like that but he also knows he does not want you to stop, your lips on his neck almost making him lose focus of the road.
Before you knew it, the two of you were back at his hotel room with his lips against yours in a desperate kiss while you were pressed up against the wall. Jeonghan’s hands wandered all over your body, feeling up every inch of your body that he could get his hands on.
“Get me naked Jeonghan,” You let out a sound that was something even more desperate than a whine, but Jeonghan ignored your plea, continuing to attack your lips with his own, enjoying your pretty sounds as you got even more desperate for him to do something.
“On your knees” Jeonghan ordered. A sudden shift in the atmosphere made you freeze. Jeonghan’s voice dropped an octave as he looked at you with lust filled eyes. “I’m not going to repeat myself” You instantly dropped to your knees and looked up at him, locking eyes with his own.
“I’m going to use your throat like a fucking fleshlight. Okay?” Your body buzzed with excitement as you heard that, sure you’ve sucked cock before but never has anyone ever done anything like that. “Squeeze my thigh if you want me to stop” You only nodded enthusiastically and within an instant, he was ridding himself of his pants along with his boxers before he was pressing his hard cock against your open mouth. You eagerly sucked the tip of Jeonghan’s cock into your mouth, and began to tease the slit on the tip of his cock with your tongue. As you sucked his cock into your mouth, you could feel the wetness seeping out of your pussy. You did your best to ignore the urge to just have his cock in you.
Jeonghan roughly pushed you all the way down on his cock making you gag immediately but you were quick to remind yourself to breathe through your nose. Jeonghan was pulling you up on his cock and slamming you back down with no relent. True to his word, he began to use you as if you were nothing but a toy, placing his hands on the sides of your face to get a better grip. His noises filled the room, tumbling out of his mouth in a way that only made you leak more on the floor of the hotel room. His one hand maneuvered to your hair, gripping tight as he began fucking into your mouth with even more force. In no time he was cumming down your throat, pushing your head all the way down his cock until his whole cock hit the back of your throat.
“Get on the bed,” You obliged wordlessly, submitting to Jeonghan and whatever he wants of you. Making yourself comfortable on the bed, you gazed up at Jeonghan, watching as he stared down at you almost as if to mock the way you submit to him so easily.
“Jeonghan-” Before you could finish Jeonghan delivered a light slap to your face. Muttering a small but stern ‘shut up’
"You speak when spoken to," he grits, glaring at you with dark eyes. He presses down on your cheeks, forcing your mouth open, you wince out in pain. “I’m gonna give you your safeword okay?” He didn’t really give you much room to agree before he assigned you a safeword, something easy for both of you to remember. You repeated it back to him to which Jeonghan smiled at your obedience.
“Use it if you need to, okay? I won’t be upset if you do” Only after you nodded in understanding did Jeonghan inch closer to you to rid you of the rest of your clothes. He grinned when he caught a glimpse of your soaked pussy. “So wet already? Just from me fucking your face?” The question was rhetorical the way Jeonghan dropped to his knees, wasting no more time to dig his face between your legs. Dragging his lips between your slit, sucking your arousal onto his tongue.
Tugging his shirt off, he fixes himself back between your legs. Letting out groans against your core, prompting you to moan out yourself. He presses a last kiss to your clit before pulling away. He sits on the edge of your bed. “Sit that pretty pussy on my cock, slut.” And again, you had no will in you to deny anything the man asks of you. Immediately making your way over and straddling his thighs. You take a deep breath before reaching down to guide him in. Feeling your stomach twist as the stretch slowly splits you open. Your eyes shut as you cry out at his thick cock stretching you open. “Why the fuck are you so tight. Holy shit” Jeonghan winces, his own eyes slamming shut at the feeling of your warm walls enveloping him in.
“You’re too big—“ you whine, your head falling down to rest on his shoulder as you slowly begin to move up and down on his cock. But it didn’t go far before Jeonghan was wrapping his hands around your hips and taking over your movements with faster and harder ones of his own.
You let out a string of moans at his intense pace making him chuckle. “Fucking slut. you like that dont you?” he gave a hard thrust, bottoming out inside your cunt. “Like getting fucked like this by a guy you just met, hmm?” You moaned out choruses of ‘yes’ as Jeonghan began rutting up into you. Moving a hand down to rub at your clit, your body jerked as you felt your high incoming.
“Fuck, I’m gonna cum Jeonghan” Your voice came out in a high pitched whine as you rubbed your clit harder, body shaking as Jeonghan fucked you harder to help guide you to the edge. Your eyes roll back as your high hits you and Jeonghan helps you ride it out, not forgetting to kiss you through it too. The two of you with no care in the world for who can hear you. As the high of your orgasm dissipates, he flips you onto your back. He’s close too, you can tell by the way his cock is throbbing inside you and his thrusts turn erratic.
“Cum inside Jeonghan.” You all but begged, Jeonghan moaning out before he also toppled over the edge. Cock throbbing erratically inside you as he emptied ropes of cum inside you. The two of you took a minute to calm your racing hearts before Jeonghan pulled out and flopped down on the bed next to you.
“Holy shit” He huffed, looking over at your smiling face. “Please tell me you’ll give me your number” He was still out of breath and it only made you chuckle, rolling off the bed to pick up your purse from where he he face fucked you moments ago. Fishing out your phone, you unlocked it before handing it to Jeonghan who was nearly knocked out on the bed for him to put his number in and text himself.
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Since the day you two hooked up at Jeonghan’s party, you’d started seeing each other more often. It’s not like you only seeked Jeonghan for your dick appointments. In reality Jeonghan was the one constantly calling and texting for when he can see you again. You won’t say that you minded it though. Sex with Jeonghan is an out of the world experience. Him making you feel highs you have never felt before with any other partner or yourself.
As for Jeonghan? Jeonghan felt nothing short of smitten. Getting into his bed with anyone other than you made the most uncomfortable feeling arise within him and it had been practically days since he last saw you so he had to hit you up.
jeonghan: i miss youuuuuuu jeonghan: hi jeonghan: cmon respondddddddd jeonghan: alright.. what position he got you in???
you: [attachment: 1 video]
You knew Jeonghan didn't expect you to actually send him a video of what position your last hookup had you in, you watched the video back and you couldn't help but get a little ego boost while watching yourself getting fucked by one of your coworkers, Joshua. He had you on all fours, hand gripping onto your waist as he fucked you.
Another thing you couldnt help is noticing how Joshua was not fucking you half as good as Jeonghan does. There's no bruises on your hips, there's no hair pulling, and the worst of all, there's no degradation. One thing about Jeonghan, for someone with such an angelic face, he has the nastiest mouth. It’s not something you're complaining about though, you would never complain about the way Jeonghan treats you in bed.
It wasn’t like Jeonghan was the only guy you could pull, never that. Jeonghan just happened to be one of the best guys you’ve ever slept with. Which might even be the only reason you keep going back to him. Something about the way he treats you just has you always craving more of him- not that you’d ever admit that to him but it was true. Jeonghan might call you all sorts of names in bed, treat you like some common whore, but right after he’ll always clean you up, attempt to hold you close, give you all the reassurance you need for you to know he doesn’t actually think you’re a common whore (not that it matters).
jeonghan: what the fuck man… jeonghan: i’m about to have the saddest wank of my life jeonghan: ^^^woah idk who said that jeonghan: might be the demons idk
you: have fun jeonghan <3
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you: hey, you wanna come play beach volleyball tmrw @3?
seungcheol: hmm seungcheol: i dont think i can make it, seokmin wants to hang.
you: boo you whore.
[seungcheol disliked “boo you whore.”]
If there's one thing you hate, it would be your job. Sitting in the sun for hours on end and staring at people who were obviously having a lot more fun than you were. You thought you could invite Seungcheol so you could play beach volleyball but apparently the universe didn’t want you to enjoy your shift. But that’s when it hit you, you could just invite Jeonghan. Surely he wouldn’t let you down.
you: hey r u free tmrw?
His reply was almost instant.
jeonghan: yea, why?
you: wanna play beach volleyball at the beach i work at?
you: i'm thinking around 3pm
jeonghan: i'm down, which beach is it?
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You saw Jeonghan’s car pull up to the beach almost thirty minutes before your shift was supposed to start, giving you thirty minutes to spare before the rest of your coworkers piled in to start their shifts.
“Hey, Beautiful” Jeonghan called out as he got out of his car, leaning back against it as you approached him. “Hi Handsome,” You smiled back as you watched him give you a once over, looking at you in your work uniform, a simple red bikini with the word ‘LIFEGUARD’ printed on it in white. Jeonghan leaned down so that he could whisper in your ear, “Do you think I can make you cum before your shift?” You nodded, not trusting your voice to do the talking, knowing you’d accidentally moan or whimper out loud.
“Get in the car then”
You didn't need to be told twice, immediately you hopped in the backseat of Jeonghan’s car and he followed suit. There wasn't much time for foreplay so he leans in, connecting your lips eagerly. As if he’s been craving this for years and is finally being satiated. The limited space doesn’t offer much room to maneuver but Jeonghan shifts in between your legs enough to grind his clothed cock against your barely clothed core. The whole situation arousing you beyond belief, about to fuck Jeonghan in the back of his car, parked someplace where anyone could see what was happening inside. You could feel your arousal seeping out of your pussy and staining the seat of your bikini. Moaning out into the kiss you pushed your hips into his own, urging him to do something.
“Jeonghan do something” You urge him in a hushed whisper, barely able to get the words out with the way Jeonghan was grinding into you so deliciously. Jeonghan merely hummed in response, halting his movements to slide down his swim shorts and free his aching cock.
“You realize how much of a slut you are for this hm? Letting me have you like this where anyone can see you, hear you, find out how much of a slut you are for me.” Jeonghan’s gaze was dark, almost mocking you. You let out some sort of groan at his words. A chill running down your spine at the thought of what Jeonghan is gonna do to you. Flashbacks of the first night you spent with him running through your head. Jeonghan was so rough in a way that no one else had ever been with you and you couldn't help but admit that you loved every second of it. Being too absorbed in your thoughts, you couldn’t respond back to jeonghan which earned you a slap across your face. Your cheek stinging at the contact but nonetheless making you clench around nothing. The feeling of your damp swimsuit sticking to your core making you wiggle your hips in discomfort.
“Pay attention to me slut” Jeonghan seethed, wrapping a hand around your throat and putting just enough pressure to have your eyes fluttering shut. “Beg for it if you want it” Another slap to your face, this time it was harder than before. Your eyes tearing up a little before you squeaked out a little ‘please’ Another slap.
“You can do better”
“Please fuck me Jeonghan” You pleaded, a tear running down your cheek at the hit.
“Try again” His voice was softer this time, rubbing his free hand over the spot he just slapped.
“Jeonghan please” you whined. “ Want everyone to hear how good you fuck me please” You begged harder this time, hoping this would be enough for Jeonghan and boy were you right. He pushes the seat of your bikini to the side before repositioning himself and pushing his length into you, moaning in delight as your walls stretch to accommodate his size. You cry out in pleasure, the feeling of finally having Jeonghan in you making more tears roll down your cheeks. He doesn’t take it easy though, keeping a steady, rough rhythm from the start. Pounding you into his backseat while watching you lose yourself in the feeling of him ramming into you. “You love it huh? Tell me how much you love it” You didn’t have it in you to deny it, fully aware of the way you literally begged him for it moments ago.
“I fucking love it Jeonghan” You gasp, his hand reaching down to rub at your clit in harsh circles.
“Does anyone fuck you like i do?” He grunts, rocking his hips into yours harder, as if it was even possible with the way he was fucking you so hard you were positive anyone passing by could see the car visibly shaking.
You shook your head immediately, “No one fucks me like you do” You confirm. Jeonghan hummed, your answer satisfying him enough that he tightened his hand around your neck once again and rubbing your clit with the other hand. The head of his cock fucks into your most sensitive spot and you feel all the thoughts in your head slowly disintegrate. Head full of only Jeonghan. You urgently reached out to grab onto something to steady something, quickly opting for his hand that was wrapped around your neck. You gripped his forearm with both hands, your eyes rolling to the back of your head. Your vision goes unfocused as your orgasm hits, letting out weak moans and gasps as the feeling consumes you entirely. Feeling it course through your whole body all the way down to your toes. Your walls constrict around Jeonghan the whole time, urging his own orgasm to hit him fast.
“Gonna cum” Jeonghan warns. His thrusts turn erratic as he lets out a string of guttural groans.
“Inside” You plead, “Need you to fill me up again please Jeonghan” Jeonghan moans loudly at that, your begging pushing him all the way over the edge. His eyes shut tightly and he groans out loudly. His body tensing up as he fills you up entirely.
“Gonna be a good girl and keep that inside you yeah? All your little friends oblivious of the way you just begged me to slut you out” Heat rushed to your cheeks at the way Jeonghan was humiliating you but you agreed either way. Jeonghan’s eyes lit up when you nodded your head with a small smile. He took time to calm down before he slipped out of you wordlessly, ignoring the way you whine at the feeling of emptiness and fixing your bikini bottoms to cover you up again.
After fixing himself up he spoke up again, “Can I kiss you?” Jeonghan asked, rather shyly, his demeanor a stark contrast to the Jeonghan that was pouding you into his backseat moments ago. You chuckled at his sheepishness. “Yes Jeonghan you can kiss me” Your voice was small but he didn’t hesitate to press his lips onto yours once again, this time the kiss was much softer than before. His hands cupping your cheeks as he used his thumbs to wipe your tears.
You pulled away first. “Let’s get going? I think I’m already late”
────────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────────────
“Why the fuck is he here?” Jeonghan muttered from beside you, watching as his teammate, Seungcheol approached your group. Ever the show off, Seungcheol was wearing only a pair of black swim shorts, showing off his toned body for everyone at the beach to see.
You turned to where Jeonghan was looking and lo and behold, there was Choi Seungcheol. You and Seungcheol had….history. Well, not really history but you two have been fucking for a couple months and you were fully aware that he is Jeonghan’s teammate and its not like you were picking out the Ferrari drivers in specific to sleep with. The two of them were the ones who came onto you first.
“Seungcheol?” You gasped, not expecting him to show up after rudely (not really) canceling on you. You felt Jeonghan’s arm tentatively wrap around your waist as Seungcheol approached.
“Hey baby!” Seungcheol grinned, completely ignoring Jeonghan on your side, with his arm obviously wrapped around your waist. You heard Jeonghan mutter a small ‘baby??’ under his breath while continuing to faux nonchalance.
“Hi Cheol! I thought you were gonna hang with Seokmin today?”
“Well, I was, but Seokmin had to meet with Chan today” He shrugged, smiling wider showing off his stunning smile that initially captivated you.
“Oh! Cheol, this is Jeonghan” You were quick to detangle yourself from Jeonghan’s arms, standing awkwardly in between the two men who were finally forced to make eye contact (thanks to you)
“This is the new guy you fuck? Really? Had to be my teammate?” Seungcheol scoffed, losing the smile once adorning his face.
“ Uh yeah, Hannie, this is Seungcheol.”
“The other guy you fuck.”
“Well, yes.”
Jeonghan wasn’t too phased at first, especially considering it was Jeonghan’s cum currently inside you and not Seungcheol’s. Jeonghan sighed before speaking out once again,
“Okay...let’s play ball?”
“Let’s play.” And the three of you set out to join the rest of the group where they played volleyball.
Jeonghan teamed with three of your three coworkers, Soonyoung, Yuta and Xiaojun. While Seungcheol teamed with your other coworkers, Vernon, Jaehyun and Joshua (yes, the same Joshua). You self appointed yourself as the referee for the round because you obviously didn’t want Jeonghan’s cum splattering out of you while you played.
That would not be ideal in front of your coworkers.
As the round started, you noticed that Seungcheol in particular was putting a little too much effort into this, as if he had something to prove. Which you weren’t wrong, he did. He wanted to prove he was way better than Jeonghan at this (among other things.) but Jeonghan was hitting the ball back with little to no effort.
You watched, amused as the two men on the court played as if no one else was around, as if it was a battle and they had to get past each other to make it to the final round. You think it might
You were right, Seungcheol did have something to prove. He wanted to prove that he was the better one out of the two of them, as if it wasn’t Jeonghan’s cum currently in you.
You were pulled out of your thoughts by a LOUD shriek. Only to see that Xiaojun was on the floor, holding his head in his hands while he cried out pathetically.
“Xiaojun what happened!?” You ran towards the man on the floor.
“Seungcheol spiked the ball and it hit Xiaojun’s head” Soonyoung explained hurriedly, jumping in to do a poor attempt of CPR on him (though he’s a lifeguard. You’re not too sure how he got hired in the first place).
“Get off me!” Xiaojun screamed when Soonyoung leaned in to give him mouth-to-mouth.
“I got hit in the head I don’t need CPR idiot”
You did notice though, Seungcheol and Jeonghan were still playing amongst each other, not a clue in the world that they just took Xiaojun out and everyone was crowding around him. Well not anymore, Xiaojun was up and crowded away with Yuta and Soonyoung. You’d assume he was talking mad shit about the man who hit him in the head and didn’t even care to check on him.
Typical Xiaojun.
Also typical Seungcheol.
As the round progressed, Xiaojun and Soonyoung dipped first, going off to get back to their jobs, then Yuta and Jaehyun also went on to do their own things and take care of their shift duties until finally Joshua and Vernon were about to head out too.
“Dude, what the hell is their problem?” Joshua murmured, rolling his eyes at the two men still actively playing ball without noticing the absence of the others.
You shrugged, “They’re both teammates and mad that I’m fucking them both. They both have something to prove to the other” You leaned in closer to whisper to Joshua.
────────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────────────
jeonghan: hi y/n :) you: hi jeonghan :)
jeonghan: i wanna see you :(
you: aw really?
you: my jeonghannie wants to see me o.O
jeonghan: yes :( jeonghan: please?
You snickered as you hit send on the video. A video of you while you were on your knees for a man whose face was not in the frame. With your lips wrapped around his cock - though unable to fully wrap around him. While you hollow your cheeks, lowering further down. The man grips your hair, holding your head still as you gag around his cock.
“You’re such a good girl, taking me like a champ, princess.” He praises you. Hips bucking forward letting out raspy groans.
That’s when he sees it.
What was it? It was a silver ring with the word ‘Ferrari’ engraved on it adorning the man’s pinky finger, identical to the one on his own.
The same ring that only two people would have. Him and his fuckass teammate.
You fucking sent him a video of you sucking off Seungcheol.
jeonghan: is that who i fucking think it is?? jeonghan: be so fucking fr.
jeonghan: i'm coming over.
────────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────────────
“Please give it to me, fuck, Jeonghan,” you stuttered, breaking away from the kiss to whine against his lips. He spent much too long rubbing his tip along your slit and you could not stand it anymore, you needed him in you immediately.
“Why don’t you ask Seungcheol hm? I’m sure he’d give you what you want more than I will” His tone was taunting, he was obviously still bitter about the stunt you pulled earlier. Not that it bothered you though, it just made the sex even more exhilarating. To know that Jeonghan is actually bothered by the video made you feel sort of giddy.
You whined when he sunk barely just the tip inside of you before pulling it out again. Your grip in his hair tightening as you felt the need to have him buried deep in you grow more and more. “Wanna cum on your cock. I wanna feel it inside me so badly. Please. Please give it to me.” You whined more, hoping Jeonghan would give in and he did, pushing into you ever so slowly but he made up for it by pressing his lips onto yours again.
“You know I’m not going easy on you tonight, right?” Your lover of the night bottomed out in you, smiling at the way he could see you going dumb on his cock and he hasn't even done anything yet.
“God, I’d hope not”
────────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────────────
You haven't seen Jeonghan or Seungcheol in two weeks.
Seungcheol has been AWOL but Jeonghan has been texting you nonstop. It was nothing sexual like the first few times he texted you. It was wholesome? Texts full of Jeonghan checking up on you, asking about you, wondering if you had eaten etc.
This time however, Jeonghan texted you something different?
An article.
F1 - Ferrari sealed 1-2 in Silverstone ahead of Kim Mingyu.
you: what the fuck is a 1-2 and why did ur team seal it
jeonghan: i won p1 and seungcheol won p2 jeonghan: party tomorrow jeonghan: ill end the deets. i better see you there
you: wtf?? thats AMAZING jeonghan congrats <33333 you: yeah, send the details ill be there :) you: see you tomorrow!
────────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────────────
You weren’t used to seeing Jeonghan and Seungcheol in the same setting, not after that hell of a volleyball game. And apparently you won't see them together this time around either because you’ve been at this party for half an hour and have seen every other driver on the grid except the two men you actually wanted to see. You decided you’d just sit at the bar and sip on yet another vodka tonic. You watched the rest of the partygoers drink away and dance together while you sat here miserably waiting to find any of your two fuck buddies.
Until you were pulled from your misery by none other than Seungcheol.
“And why do you look so miserable?” He asked, taking a seat next to you. Your face lit up at his voice, “Cheol!” You grinned for the first time since you got here.
“I’ve been by myself all night, Jeonghan invited me but i haven't seen him anywhere” You shrugged. Seungcheol watched as you downed the rest of your drink before he led you away from the main party area, pulling you into a dim corner.
“You know, I’ve been dreaming about your lips on mine since the last time you came over” Your lips curled into a smirk at that, “Yeah? Are you gonna do anything about it?”
Oh, he was.
Seungcheol angles his head to perfectly lower his lips onto yours. Like any kiss with Cheol, it has you dazed and yearning for more, your fingers gripping at his shirt to pull him as close to you as possible.
You both part for air momentarily,looking into eachothers eyes with equally dazed stares. your heart racing from the thrill of making out with him where anyone could catch the two of you, not that you mind, but you’re sure Seungcheol’s career might. Though the thought doesn't last long until Seungcheol searches for your lips again, pressing his mouth hard against yours with not a care in the world as to who may see you.
Except the only person who saw you was none other than Yoon Jeonghan.
There was no word to describe how upset Jeonghan felt at that moment. You came to a party he invited you to, celebrating mainly him, where he spent an hour looking for you and youre making out with his fuckass TEAMMATE?
There were only two people that could save Jeonghan now.
Mingyu and Seungkwan.
────────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────────────
After he had to witness you and his teammate down each other’s throats the other day. Jeonghan is on a mission to win you over. There is no way he’ll let Seungcheol of all people get his girl.
Seungcheol wasn’t even looking to settle, Jeonghan was.
According to your two closest friends, Mingyu and Seungkwan, there were 3 things that Jeonghan could do that would win you over. Which happened to do with the 3 things you loved the most.
Music, Food, Sports.
…Well, that was the only input they gave him. He just had to figure the rest of it out himself.
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First thing: Music.
That was quite…simple? All he had to do was show you his fire music taste!
So the next time he picked you up he’d just blast his tunes in the car and that’d be sure to have you swooning.
Jeonghan rang your doorbell at 7:00pm on the dot. He seemed to have this whole evening planned out and you knew nothing except a text the day before asking if you were free at 7 today and it went on from there. He did specify to dress casual so you wore just a pair of shorts and a black tank top.
“Hey” You smiled wide, opening the door to see an equally casually dressed Jeonghan.
“Hey, you look cute.” You grinned at the compliment, gesturing inside for Jeonghan to come in but instead he just shook his head.
“Let’s go, I’ve got plans for us”
Jeonghan spent a good ten minutes trying to connect his bluetooth to his car, assuring you that you’d love the songs he’s picked out for tonight only to play the most ratchet music you think you’ve ever heard.
“What the hell is this Jeonghan?” You grimaced, appalled by his choice of music
“It’s Mozart!”
“How the fuck does that make it better?”
Jeonghan only sighed and handed you his phone with his music app opened.
“Play whatever you want”
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Second thing: Food
Jeonghan’s attempt to be…romantic? Was not as successful as you think he’d hoped. His plan was to cook together while sipping wine and have a cute little night.
Cooking with someone was not something you enjoyed.
Jeonghan was on vegetable duty while you were on sauce duty. Though time with Jeonghan was enjoyable, what you did not enjoy was him repeatedly coming in your way while you maneuvered around the kitchen.
“Jeonghan, MOVE” Your frustration reached its max when Jeonghan was hunched over, eyes watery from the onions he was cutting but he was hunched right in the middle of the kitchen, leaving you with no space to pass.
“I CAN’T SEE” He screeched, finding his way over to the sink in an attempt to rinse out his eye.
God, he’s such a dork.
────────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────────────
The last part of Jeonghan’s plan was to woo you with Sports.
There was no better sport to enjoy with you other than his own! He’ll just invite you to the race this week!
jeonghan: hey jeonghan: you wanna come to the race this weekend? Its in hungary its gonna run friday-sunday but we arrive on thursday jeonghan: tix on me :)
you: wtf?? of COURSE i want to go :O
────────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────────────
And just like that, you found yourself in a hotel in Hungary on a random Thursday morning. Well, it wasn’t random, you were invited to the Hungarian Grand Prix by none other than Yoon Jeonghan himself.
Speaking of, Jeonghan had asked if you wanted to go explore the village with him on your off day and who were you to deny an offer like that? So here you were, rushing your makeup at 9 in the morning. Jeonghan was supposed to come to your room at about 9:30 so you have less than thirty minutes to be ready and out the door.
Jeonghan showed up at your hotel room at 9:30 on the dot, wearing a variant of an outfit youve seen him wear a million times, baggy jeans with an oversized shirt. True Jeonghan fashion you’d say.
“Good morning beautiful” He greeted, walking into your hotel room and closing the door behind him before backing you up against the wall.
“Good morning handsome” You can't lie and say you didn't internally cringe at that, no matter how true the words actually were. Jeonghan himself grimaced, his face centimeters away from your own “Never say that again please”
You rolled your eyes, “God forbid a woman try complimenting a man for once”
────────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────────────
You and Jeonghan spent all day exploring the city. Going from coffee shop to coffee shop, spending hours walking aimlessly around and even checking out the track. You enjoyed Jeonghan’s company more than you’d like to admit. Jeonghan was a witty guy. He was funny, hot, really fucking good in bed but most of all he was genuine. That’s one thing you loved about Jeonghan that Seungcheol didn’t have. Where Jeonghan’s intentions with you were clear as day, Seungcheol? You were not too sure what the fuck his intentions were with you.
You knew you weren’t technically supposed to dig this deep into either of them. After all, they were just your fuckbuddies, people you only saw when you were horny and needed release but you still couldn't help but feel more drawn to Jeonghan than you did Seungcheol.
Jeonghan was a genuinely good person whose company you actually enjoyed and you knew he did enjoy yours too. Seungcheol however ignored all your texts until he was the one that needed release and you didn’t have a problem with that until now. Until Jeonghan brought it up.
“You know, I really like spending time with you. Aside from the sex” It came from out of the blue when the two of you were walking back to your hotel.
“So the sex just sucks huh?” You looked at him with a mischievous grin
“You know that’s not what i meant”
“I know, I really enjoy spending time with you too Jeonghan” He smiled at that, pulling you closer by the hip until you were pressed right by his side. The two of you walked in a comfortable silence until he spoke up again.
“You know, you should stop seeing Seungcheol”
You chuckled, this wasn’t the first time Jeonghan has hinted towards how much he doesn’t like you fucking his teammate.
“Yeah, okay”
“I'm serious! It might have to do with the fact im like fucking obsessed with you or the fact that I know Seungcheol doesn’t want you like I do but I swear, the way i want you does not compare to the way he wants you” Your eyebrows raised at that, you knew you prefer Jeonghan over Seungcheol but hearing him tell you why you should pick him over Seungcheol is just all the more satisfying.
“Why do you think so?”
“Because-!” He groaned, rubbing his face with his hands, not wanting to tell you how much he wants you. How he stays up thinking about how it’d be if you were his.
“Because I like you beyond the sex, I want a relationship with you. I don’t wanna have to share you with anyone because I’m greedy and I want you for myself. I wanna show you off as mine without anyone else coming in the way. I want you Y/N”
You stopped in your tracks, prompting him to stop with you as well. “You want to date me?”
“Really fucking bad. Please let me?”
“Okay” You nodded, acting nonchalant on the outside when you were actually going fucking insane on the inside. “I’ll be your girlfriend but only if you ask me out properly” Jeonghan all but jumped for joy, screaming a couple choruses of “YES!!”
“Y/N, light of my life, will you please be my girlfriend?” he playfully rolled his eyes
“I’d love to!” you smiled wide, his own smile mirroring yours before he leaned in to kiss you sweetly, in the middle of a street in Mogyoród.
────────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────────────
The next morning, Seungcheol was just doing his normal pre race rituals when all of a sudden he heard an awful lot of giggling just outside of his room.
What the hell could be so funny right before a race?
He swung his door open only to see Jeonghan sitting on the couch while you sat on his lap, one leg on either side of him while the two of you smooched away like a couple of highschoolers on their first date.
“I think I can come P1 today! After All, I have my beautiful girlfriend here to cheer me on” Jeonghan teased, cupping your face so he can press yet another kiss to your lips.
“Yeah? Good luck out there boyfriend. I’ll be cheering for you”
Girlfriend??? Boyfriend??? Since fucking when? The last time Seungcheol remembers, you were not looking for anything close to even a situationship, let alone a relationship.
That kinda explains it too, you’d been too busy with your stupid boyfriend to return any of his calls or texts for the past few days too. This is exactly why Seungcheol hated couples. Gross.
Screw Yoon Jeonghan, he stole his girl in plain sight.
Well, not really his girl. Realistically Seungcheol was just tryna hit. Much like yourself until you met Yoon fucking Jeonghan.
Cheol knew he wasn't all that upset about the situation but he had to mess with Jeonghan just for the fun of it and man was he geeked.
────────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────────────
You couldnt fucking believe what you were seeing. Today was the day of the first two free practices and the only two drivers on the track who were not behaving were none other than your very own.
Normally, Jeonghan and Seungcheol would stay very…civil during their races but something was off today. Jeonghan was minding his business, leading the race like he usually does until in comes Choi Seungcheol and overtakes him.
So naturally, Jeonghan starts to speed up and get back in the lead. Which lasts maybe a minute until in comes Choi fucking Seungcheol again and runs him off the track.
What the hell was Seungcheol’s problem today?
The race continued to be a mess of Seungcheol messing with Jeonghan, overtaking him then running him off the track and repeating it. You could tell Jeonghan was getting frustrated. Hell, even you were getting frustrated.
Did Seungcheol find out about you and Jeonghan?
God, you’d hope this wasn't the result of Seungcheol’s…jealousy? There really wasn't anything to be jealous about on his end but still, if it was, that’s not okay and you were going to speak to him about it. The race went on like that, with Cheol repeatedly provoking Jeonghan and Jeonghan fighting back. You could hear the chattering of the people around you talking about the two of them and how it was ‘so odd that they’re acting this way!’
As expected, Jeonghan came P1 and Seungcheol came P3. P2 was none other than your best friend, Boo Seungkwan! The race went surprisingly well after the second to last lap and continued to trail behind Jeonghan who was in P1.
“Jeonghan!” You squealed, embracing him in the tightest hug possible but immediately pulling away when you made contact with his sweaty body.
“Baby” He whined, pulling you back into his embrace, ignoring your noises of protest. You gave up the fight without much convincing, hugging him back tight and congratulating him over and over.
“Wait, I’ll be back.”
You excused yourself from Jeonghan and went on to find the one and only..
“Choi Seungcheol!” You muttered, aggressively making your way over to the ever so sweaty man sipping away at his Hydrorace water bottle.
“Hey gorgeous” He cheekily smiled at you, pulling the straw away from his lips. You scoffed, annoyed by how calm he seemed after what he pulled out on the track today.
“Don’t ‘hey gorgeous’ me, what the hell was that on the track today? You know either one of you could have gotten hurt, right?” You were practically fuming.
“You know I'm smart enough to not let either of us get hurt out there right?” He mimicked your tone. Whatever he said didn’t matter in the moment, you were too heated to even think straight.
“Talk to me when you’ve calmed down, Y/N.” And with that, he walked away from you.
────────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────────────
It was finally time for confrontation.
You pulled out your phone camera to make sure you look decent enough to confront Seungcheol. Once you made sure you looked okay, you tucked it away in your back pocket. Taking a deep sigh before knocking on Seungcheol’s hotel room, waiting for him to open the door. “Hey, Cheol…” You greet hesitantly, stepping inside and closing the door behind you, locking it shut just in case.
“Y/n…it’s so nice to see you!” Seungcheol smiled bitterly. “After you practically blew up on me in front of everyone today.” His fake ass smile dropped.
You grimaced, hiding your face in embarrassment. “Don’t be like that, I just want to apologize.” You offered a small smile.
“Delta time can be time too late, Y/N.”
If there was an embodiment of a question mark, it would be you right now. “You know I don't understand when you use racing speak, Seungcheol.”
“Delta time…anyway, just, don’t worry about it. I know you made your choice. Especially by the way you just full-named me. ”
“Cheol-”
“We had a good run, yeah? don’t worry about it.” He smiled, “This doesn’t mean I don’t want to be friends though you know. I just want you to be happy even if it’s not with me and with my…teammate.” You could sense the lack of sincerity at the end. Seungcheol was not happy about this and you knew that.
“Thank you Cheol” You smiled, opening your arms and offering him a hug which he gladly accepted, engulfing you in the most warm hug you’ve ever received from him.
It wasn’t easy to let Cheol go but you had to do this for Jeonghan.
You were the first to pull away from the hug. You gave him a smile before turning on your heels.
“See you at the race on Sunday?”
“You know it.”
────────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────────────
“It’s just me and you baby” Jeonghan breathed against your lips, pinning you up against the wall and relishing in the way you sigh out in relief when he finally presses his lips to yours. “Be as loud as you want love”
Jeonghan knew damn well it was not just the two of you, somewhere in one of the stalls was Seungcheol. He was about to walk out when he heard you and Jeonghan at the door and ran into a stall to avoid being caught.
“Please Jeonghan” You whimpered when he pulled away to trail his lips down your neck, “Touch me, please?”
“I am touching you”
“Jeonghan” Your voice raises a pitch. Jeonghan can’t stand it, he loves how your squirm and whimper, so desperate to get fucked by him. Something in him loves how pretty you sound when you beg, especially when you scream his name with your eyes rolling back into your head.
“Please, please fuck me…”
“Shut up.” He groans, proceeding to jackhammer two fingers inside of you. You yelped in surprise, leaning back onto the wall, gripping onto Jeonghan’s arm to hold yourself up. Jeonghan’s other hand trails up and covers your eyes. Hold around your head tight, leaving you more vulnerable to his ministrations.
“I want your cock Jeonghan, please” He loved that your noises were getting louder but he knew that when you finally got his cock you’d be even louder. Just what he wants for your little audience. Jeonghan halts his fingers in you and smears the wetness all over your aching pussy.
“Pussy’s so wet for me, know why?” Jeonghan smirks, “Cause you’re a fucking slut, and all sluts know how to do is take cock.” And without warning, he glides the entirety of his length in at the same time and you were left gasping at the stretch.
“J-Jeonghan..” you moaned loud, “You’re so fucking big. Oh my fucking God.” Jeonghan chuckled, setting a brutal pace from the start. You could never get tired of fucking Jeonghan, every time with Jeonghan bringing you to a new wave of euphoria even you couldnt fathom.
“Yeah? Who fucks you this good huh?” Jeonghan wrapped his hand, previously covering your eyes around your throat and applying just enough pressure to make you see stars. “You, Jeonghan! Only you can fuck me this good” His thrusts were sloppy but they were so hard and deep. Tears rolled down your cheeks with every thrust as your body buzzed with pleasure.
“Good fucking girl” He praised, “You’re so good to me aren’t you?” You couldn’t respond. You don’t think you had it in you to say anymore. Just letting moan after moan leave your lips as you writhed under his hold.
He pressed a soft kiss to your lips, smiling at the way you attempted to kiss him back.
“My pretty girl, only mine.”
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(not) my girl - rafe cameron
summary: if rafe cameron is so sure he doesn't need to be seen with you at midsummers, you are more than happy to oblige (or) the time you drove rafe insane with jealousy.
word count: 3.4k
a/n: inspired by this post by the sweet @writingsbychlo ♡
You were curled up on Rafe’s lap, head resting on his shoulder with his arms circled around you and his fingers mindlessly tracing patterns on your thigh as he talked with his friends around the firepit in his backyard.
You had been hooking up for a few months and recently you felt like you were right on the cusp of him asking you to make things official, exclusive. You were spending nearly every night together and every time he asked to talk or wanted to hang out you got your hopes up that this would be the time he brought it up, only to be crushed over and over again.
Deep down, you knew how Rafe felt. People who were ‘just hooking up’ didn’t beg you to stay every morning, didn’t make room in their dresser for you, didn’t wake you up with featherlight kisses to your cheeks, your forehead, your nose, face breaking into a ridiculous smile when your eyes fluttered open to find his drinking you in, they didn’t call you during a panic attack after fighting with their dad, pleading to hear your voice as the only thing that would calm them down. No, you were pretty sure you knew exactly how this boy felt, but you wanted him to acknowledge it. You ached to hear him say with pride ‘that’s my girl’, to mark you as his own.
Your eyes flitted across the fire to your best friend Olivia who wiggled her eyebrows at the sight of you and Rafe together, all too aware of the situationship you were in and how badly you wanted him. You blushed and rolled your eyes back at her, just trying to enjoy this small moment where he showed his affection for you in front of other people. She winked at you before interrupting the conversation.
“Sooo, who is everyone taking to Midsummers?”
You shot her a look that screamed what the hell are you doing!? You were still holding out hope that Rafe was going to ask you, even though it was less than a week away. Maybe he had an elaborate, last-minute surprise planned?
“Feel pretty good about my date” Kelce murmured, pressing a kiss to Olivia’s cheek as she giggled. “What about you Top, still intent on macking on Rafe’s sister?” he asked. Topper threw an empty beer can at him as everyone laughed.
“I don’t know why we even bother with dates” Rafe said. “We’re just gonna dick around together all night anyway, there’s no point.” He took a swig of his beer without meeting your gaze. You felt your cheeks warm in embarrassment and a painful ache in your throat as you tried to hold back the tears that threatened to spring forward. You met Olivia’s gaze again and she nodded encouragingly towards Rafe.
“W-what about me, Cameron?” you asked, trying to mask your feelings, to sound chill as you poked him in the side.
He looked at you sweetly, “C’mon and say what when my dad asks about you? ‘Hey dad, here’s the girl I’ve been sneaking through the back door every night and smashing while you and Rose are three doors down? Hard pass.” He laughed, focusing back on his beer and his friends as you felt his hand slide off your leg.
You allowed yourself to be genuinely upset for three days.
You didn’t sleep at Tanneyhill for the first time in months, you didn’t even answer his texts which grew increasingly more insistent the more you ignored them. You stayed home, you cried, and you contemplated what the fuck you were doing with your life. Was that really all you were to him – just someone he was sneaking around with? Did you somehow become that girl, too naïve and too stupid to see that she wasn’t and would never be anything more than a hookup?
You thought about the way Rafe reached for you and held you in his sleep, the way his hands ghosted over your body, the things he’d whisper in your ear, the times you’d ridden shotgun in his truck or he’d taken you to his favorite spot on the beach… Your heart was so sure about him, but your head throbbed with the echo of his words.
You and Olivia talked incessantly about it, dissecting everything he’d said. “Maybe he just needs a little push, a little… motivation?” she suggested, and the more you talked about it, the more you realized she was right.
If Rafe Cameron was so sure he didn’t need to be seen with you at Midsummers, you were more than happy to oblige.
The last of the hot summer sun was settling over the ocean as you climbed the front steps of the Island Club in daring three-inch heels; the added height gave your figure a perfect sway that simply begged people to watch you as you walked by. Your dress had a thigh-high slit, open back, and was the perfect color for your skin tone, illuminating you; the neckline was devilishly tantalizing, giving the desired effect of drawing all eyes to the dazzling diamond pendant that reflected the setting sun.
Rafe heard you before he saw you; rather, he heard a sea of murmurs rippling through the crowd which drew his attention to the doors just as you walked through by yourself, essentially announcing to the island that you were alone for the night.
“Geezus” he heard Topper mutter under his breath as he took you in. Normally, he would have known better and normally Rafe would have put his head through a wall for glaring at you the way he was, but even though his fists clenched in response and he wanted to turn and say something to him, he simply couldn’t take his eyes off of you; “Geezus” didn’t even begin to cover it.
You were always undeniably beautiful to Rafe: when you wore his oversized sweatshirt around the fire pit, when you were makeup-less in your wet bikini at the beach, and especially when you were wearing next to nothing tangled up in his limbs and his soft sheets, but the dress you had on, the way your hair shone in the last rays of the sun, the way you were positively radiating had his pulse throbbing in his neck, his adam’s apple bobbing and his palms sweating. Fuck, I am so happy she’s mine he thought to himself, smiling and moving to walk towards you as your eyes met his across the crowd.
You were glowing at him and sent him a discreet smile as you greeted people and made your way in his direction. He couldn’t wait to get his hands on you, to have you at his side so everyone knew you were his. You approached your friends, dropping a kiss on Topper and Kelce’s cheeks before doing the same to Rafe. You made to move past him quickly, intent on talking to Olivia when he grabbed your hand.
“Hey, hold up you-you look…” he started to say, trying and struggling to find the words to capture the way his heart was pounding in his chest.
Your wide eyes met his expectantly and just when he opened his mouth to speak, they flitted over his shoulder.
“Oh! Sorry, Rafey! Just saw someone I want to catch up with, I’ll see you later” and without another word you walked away, leaving Rafe Cameron, the King of Kildare staring and stuttering after you.
You were walking away from him? he thought. You had seemed so adamant about this whole Midsummers thing, dropping hints about going together and now here he was, practically ready to get down on one knee at the sight of you, and you were walking away from him? He was speechless. He turned to watch you go… right into the arms of another man. He looked to be about your age, the same height and a similar build as Rafe, because of course Rafe was sizing him up, how could he not? This guy had his paws all over his girl. And then, after a moment’s realization, he thought darkly, she’s not your girl…
You had greeted this guy with a huge hug, and he’d nearly lifted you off the ground, now he had your full attention and you were laughing at something he said, the most sweet and perfect sound that Rafe wanted only for himself.
As everyone took their seat for dinner, you intentionally positioned yourself across the table from Rafe. The slight of not sitting next to him where he could run his fingers up your thigh or tangle them in your own left him fidgeting instead, buttoning and unbuttoning his jacket and swirling his drink. What the fuck did I used to do with my hands? he thought angrily.
You paid him no mind, instead, leaning forward on your elbows and toying with the diamond pendant around your neck, fingering it, twirling it and sliding it back and forth on its chain.
“Holy DIAMOND, girl!” Olivia said as she took note of your necklace and leaned over to get a closer look. “Is it new, where is it from?” her eyes shot from you to Rafe and back again.
He glared at you both over the rim of his glass as he took a deep gulp, trying to act unphased but also extremely curious to hear your answer knowing damn well it wasn’t from him.
Your eyes flitted to Rafe briefly before you leaned towards Olivia, lowering your voice, but not so low that he couldn’t hear you. “It was… a gift from… someone special” you said winking conspiratorially at her.
Rafe choked on his drink just as someone was standing up at the front of the crowd to make a speech, shifting everyone’s attention and interrupting the slew of words that nearly poured out of his mouth.
Who the fuck on Kildare fucking Island was buying his girl jewelry? he thought. And then, again, he reminded himself, she’s not your girl… the thought making his whole body tense, rigid and taught in anger and frustration.
For the next 20 minutes, all he could do was stare at you as you twiddled that ridiculous necklace in your fingers, imagining what it would be like to rip it off of you and replace it with something twice as nice. He was mentally calculating how much he would spend and how quickly he could get it when JJ Maybank passed by their table. Rafe had a snarky comment on the tip of his tongue until he watched JJ do a double take at you and stop in his tracks.
Don’t do it, Maybank, Rafe thought. Don’t you dare do it.
He watched JJ eye you and the distance between you and Rafe and, deeming it safe, peddled back, pulling a glass of champagne off his tray and handing it to you with a flourish. He knelt down next to your seat and when you turned to talk to him, it left JJ perfectly eye level with your cleavage. He was whispering something to you and you rested your hand on his bicep as you leaned forward to hear him. Rafe could see you blushing, and he watched Maybank take in every greedy eyeful of you. Rafe stood up so abruptly, it knocked his chair over and rattled the plates on the table. Everyone looked up at him, including you, and for the first time that night he had your full attention as your eyes widened at his reaction.
“YN, inside, let’s go” he said simply, walking to your side of the table.
You raised an eyebrow at him and his demanding tone.
“And Maybank if you don’t stop staring at her tits, I will put your face through this table.”
JJ quickly stood up and backed away with his hands raised in surrender as Rafe approached you.
“Rafe we were just—” you started.
“— Inside. Now” he said, taking you forcefully by the arm and leading you inside and into the locker room.
“Rafe! Come on! Stop it! I want to spend the night with my friends, I don’t know what you possibly have to be mad at” you said in resistance.
And that was the very last straw for him.
“WHAT I HAVE TO BE MAD AT?!” he said, incredulous, nearly shouting. “Where do I even begin with you!? You blow me off all week, then you waltz in here looking like an absolute bombshell, wearing next to nothing – I swear to God, I’ve seen you in bikinis with more material - every guy here is leering at you. Then you’re talking to that jackass who had his hands all over you…” he said, exasperated.
At this point he was pacing, his voice continuing to rise in anger and frustration. “…And then Maybank?! Maybank of all people?! He was flirting with you right in front of me. Was it to make me jealous? Is that what this is all about? Because I’m about to lose my fucking mind YN” he said running his hands through his hair, giving you sick pleasure knowing it took him probably an hour to style it. A surprised if not amused look rested on your face as you continued to twirl your necklace in your fingers.
“And who the fuck gave you that” he pointed accusingly at the diamond in your hand, not giving you a single second to respond, “No. Absolutely not. Take it off. Right now” he said, walking briskly towards you in an effort to do it himself.
You held out a hand to stop him.
“I don’t know what the big deal is Rafe” you said innocently. “What difference does it make? I’m just the girl you’re sneaking through your back door every night to smash” you shrugged, your eyes burning at him.
His eyes widened as he heard his own words on your lips.
“No, that’s – that’s not – I didn’t mean” he stuttered.
You gave him a vicious look as you watched the gears turn in his head and he tried to string a sentence together.
“Look, I didn’t mean it like that – I shouldn’t have – what I meant was – ahh, fuck it” he said, taking a step forward and closing the distance between you in an instant, one hand holding your face firmly as he pushed you against the lockers and the other coming to rest on the wall beside you, caging you in against him as he pressed his lips bruisingly to yours, devouring you, just like he’d wanted to do all night.
You wanted to stay strong, to argue, to tell him he wasn’t going to win you over like this. But he was. He so so was as he deepened the kiss almost instantly and the pad of his thumb ran across your cheek sending a shiver through your body. When he finally felt you relent and kiss him back, winding your arms around his neck and pulling yourself flush to him he let out a small groan that almost made you forget the whole point of tonight. Almost.
You pulled back, leaving not even an inch between you. The feeling of you kissing him had calmed him down significantly. His breathing had slowed but his cheeks were still flushed and his hair was mussed. He lingered there, his nose brushing yours as he stroked your cheek.
“You’re my girl” he whispered finally.
“Are you asking or telling?” you whispered back.
“Do I really need to ask, princess?” he said, meeting your gaze with his own.
You raised an eyebrow at him threateningly.
He rolled his eyes and said in a sigh, “Be mine?”
You bit your bottom lip and pretended to think about it. “Gosh, I don’t know” you said, pressing a slow kiss to his lips “M’might have to think about it” you said, pressing another kiss there, lingering longer “Mm’might need some convincing” you said, kissing him again and running your hands up his chest.
His voice was low but steady, “I will take you home right now and convince you as many times as you need me to” he said, kissing you back through a smile.
“Deal” you replied sweetly.
You moved to leave but he didn’t let you go and when you met his gaze, his brow was furrowed, his eyes searching yours. “I am serious though, about this, about you” he said. “I’m sorry I fucked up.” He looked uncharacteristically bashful, unsure even. “Really, are you mine?” he whispered.
“Yes, Rafe,” you said as your heart fluttered in your chest “All yours.”
He smiled stupidly, so far gone for you as he kissed you again. You were completely lost in the moment until he muttered against you, “Then please for the love of God will you take that necklace off and tell me who in the hell thought they could buy you something like that?”
You met his eyes strongly, the last embers of your pain crackling there.
“No” you said simply, continuing quickly when he tried to interrupt you. “I’m going to keep it and wear it whenever I damn well please to remind you of what you have and what you sure as hell want don’t want to lose.”
He looked genuinely shocked to hear you challenge him like that and you could see a tic in his jaw as he worked it back and forth in anger.
“I… hate that” he growled. “What if I buy you something nicer?”
You shrugged noncommittally and he shook his head at you. “Fine, let’s get out of here, that dress is killing me and I have a lot of convincing I want to do to you right now.” You giggled as he grabbed your hand and led you back outside, pressing a kiss to the side of your head.
When you rejoined the party there were a few murmurs and glances as you hung off his arm. Were you imagining it, or was he taking the long way back to your table, intentionally parading you around the patio and staring daggers at anyone whose gaze lingered too long? Being seen together at Midsummers was basically shouting from the rooftops that you were official. You were glowing, he was too. You said goodbye to your friends and within minutes you were in his truck headed back to Tanneyhill, his hand rubbing circles higher and higher on your thigh, your fingers in his hair.
He threw the car in park and scooped you over his shoulder, carrying you all the way upstairs like that, which had you shrieking in delight. He didn’t set you down until you were in his room and he kissed you feverishly, his hands cupping your face, before his fingers traced your neck, nearing your necklace.
“Rafe” you muttered against his lips, a warning.
“Just tell me who” he muttered back, unable to let it go and kissing you deeper in the hopes of convincing you. “I’m already gonna to buy you a new one, you’ll never wear this again, but I need to know. Can’t stop thinking about someone else with their hands on you” he said as he guided you backwards towards his bed, pushing you gently onto his comforter and crawling on top of you.
“I don’t like it. I do not fucking like it” he growled against your lips. Under his anger, you detected a hint of vulnerability and you broke your kiss just long enough to look into his eyes, which gazed longingly at you as they searched your face. Perhaps you had tortured this poor boy enough.
You sighed, relenting.
“Olivia” you said.
He looked at you, completely confused for only a moment before the realization dawned on his face and he hung his head.
“There isn’t anyone else” he said in equal parts relief, frustration and embarrassment.
You shook your head at him.
“God I’m so fucking stupid” he said.
You giggled before reaching behind your neck to unclasp the necklace and toss it on his bedside table.
He looked at you with heat and tenderness, “I’m sorry that’s what it took for me to get my shit together. I wish it all happened differently, but I don’t regret it. You’re it for me, YN, no one else.”
He placed a kiss beneath your ear, to your throat, to your bare collarbone. “My girl” he whispered against your skin, enjoying how it felt on his tongue and the sound of your sweet laughter in response.
taglist: @ietss, @gillybear17, @palmwinemami, @moremaybank, @one-sweet-gubler, @m-indkiller, @diary-of-jj, @crlsummer, @jjsbank444
#rafe cameron#obx rafe cameron#rafe obx#rafe outer banks#rafe cameron fanfiction#outerbanks rafe#rafe fanfiction#rafe cameron x reader#obx fanfiction
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number one on the smut prompts with tyler owens 🫣👀
Most people dreaded summer. The heat, the random thunderstorms, the seemingly endless droughts.
You craved it.
Summer meant late mornings, tangled up in the sheets. It meant watching sunsets in the bed of a truck. It meant going to rodeos and going home instead of a random motel.
It meant tornado season was done. Summer meant Tyler was back in your arms, spending time with you (aside from the research and occasional videos).
The exhaustive heat was still there. But he made it bearable.
"Just come join me," His voice is hot on your neck, his words stated between gentle nips as his fingers toyed with the hem of your denim shorts.
You giggled, trying to remain steadfast despite your thighs clenching, "Why do I feel like you don't want to shower?"
"Because I don't. I want to stay cool and spend time with my pretty girl," Tyler was so shameless, but you couldn't fault him; in fact, you loved that about him. How he was so insistent on talking to you one night after a rodeo, leading you to this very moment years later.
"Please?" How could you ever say no to those stunning green eyes?
The cold tile was refreshing, the cool water giving your heated body a much needed reprieve. Tyler's mouth was unrelenting as it alternated between your lips and your neck, his fingers quickly thrusting in and out of your soaked folds.
You had one hand tangled in his dark blonde hair, tugging on the locks in a desperate attempt to lure his lips back to yours. The other was gripping one of his broad shoulders, no doubt your fingernails creating crescent shaped marks that Boone would tease him about tomorrow.
"Think she's ready for me?" His lips ghost over yours, so close to giving you what you wanted.
You nodded, unable to speak due to how his thumb was drawing lazy circles on your clit.
He hoisted one of your legs up, pinning your knee against his hip. Upon feeling his cock enter, you tilted your head back, a deep moan echoing off the shower tiles.
The sound of skin slapping against skin was barely audible over the shower. No matter how many times you two did this dance, it still took your body some time to adjust to the sheer size of him.
Because of course he was big.
"S'fuckin tight," Tyler grunted, his Texan upbringing shining through in his words, "Every time."
You buried your face into his neck, hoping it would muffle the sounds of your pleasure soaked sobs.
He was relentless, hips all but slamming into yours, determined to push you over the edge. You learned early on that when Tyler put his mind to something, he made sure to see it through, whether it was a storm or your orgasm.
You clutched onto him for leverage, your legs shaking as he got you closer to making stars explode behind your eyes.
"That's it, c'mon pretty girl," he chuckled at the way your tight walls clenched around his cock upon hearing his special nickname for you, "Lemme feel ya. Wanna feel ya soak me."
Almost as if on command, your vision went white as pleasure shot through your body. You were yelling saying something, most likely his name as you soared through the blissful trip.
"Ah fuck, pretty girl," his hips snapped against yours once, twice, three more times before stilling, his own release quickly filling you.
The sound of the water hitting the tiles and your heavy breathing filled the room. Finally, you were the first to chuckle, breaking the ice.
"Welcome home baby," you grinned before pressing a kiss against his wet cheek.
"Welcome home, pretty girl."
#my writing#tyler owens#tyler owens x reader#glen powell#twisters fanfic#twisters 2024#tyler owens imagine#tyler owens fic
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I don't think you understand
The mer price fic is absolute perfection.
Like I'm talking a literal masterpiece
This fic will stay engraved in my brain forever. You're an absolutely amazing writer. Thank you ♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️
anon, THANK you. i am actually thrilled to see other people enjoying mer Price and remora reader as much as i do. please please please let me brain dump more about Price taking remora reader back to his home reef to meet the rest of shark mer 141:
SOAP is enamored instantly because you're so fucking grabbable.
within moments of seeing you peek out from behind Price's tail, he darts around and snatches you up with greedy hands. you're so small!! so tiny and cute when you squirm. and you make noises.
he handles you like a toy until Price barks at him to cut it out. he does (and Price makes him promise not to be so rough with you; you're fragile, he claims) but Soap is incorrigible.
he follows you for days afterward. just obsessed. he loves chasing your silver tail as you dart around the reef, trying to hide from him. when he catches up to you, you have little choice but to give in and let him manhandle you. he certainly toes the line of whatever Price meant when he said no rough play, you little shit, i mean it.
he pushes the limits of your docile nature. when you do eventually reach the end of your patience and dart out of his hands just to get a break from his grabby claws, guess what? you've triggered his prey drive and he gives chase. he catches you, of course, and then before he can stop himself, he bites you.
your squeal brings Price out into the open instantly and Soap gets an earful again. he grins at you the whole time as you hide over Price's shoulder.
after that, Soap gets a little craftier about it. he eases up just enough to figure out exactly how playful (rough) he can be before you can't take any more. he learns how to stop just shy of making you shriek again. Price is aware, but he's a little too indulgent to stop it. he's happy to let Soap have his fun as long as he doesn't break you. you just have to suck it up. that indulgent nature is how you ended up with Price in the first place, after all.
goes without saying, but Soap is the first one to use you as a sex toy.
GHOST seems to take zero interest in you at first. you're not the sharpest urchin in the tide pool, are you? you can't be if you're here willingly. he figures you won't stick around long, and if you do, you won't stay intact.
you attempt to take up grooming his skin and tail and teeth as you do with the others. he moves away from you without a word, lashing his scarred tail to re-settle himself several feet away.
if you follow and try to groom him again, you earn a deep growl.
you dart off the moment he voices that rumbling displeasure. he notes your skittishness around him and uses it to make you leave him alone.
you, however, have a job to do. you won't be scared off that easily.
after he chases you off that way a few times, you begin to find him and simply sit near him. mirroring him. no big deal. instead of grooming him, you use the time to groom yourself. can't keep everyone else clean if you're grimy, after all.
he notices you and growls to warn you off again. you pretend not to hear.
he flicks his tail in irritation, considers cuffing you over the head to teach you a lesson, but you're too far away to reach without kicking his whole big self up into the water to move several feet. so he elects instead to turn over and ignore you. you keep this up for several days. you sit a little closer every time.
one day, you finish cleaning your own tail fin and casually begin to clean his. he growls. you pause. when he stops and does nothing further, you resume your work. he growls again, and you continue grooming him as if you don't hear him. he keeps growling, but once you begin to run your claws over a stubborn patch of skin to dislodge some stuck grit that's been bothering him, his growling fades into grumbling. and then silence. he lets you keep at it. victory.
this becomes a habit. you seek him out (never the other way around) and typically find him lazing on the floor of some cave or sunning in the reef's shallows. you set to work grooming him thoroughly. all business. he grumbles and growls occasionally when you move his arm or tug your fingers through his hair, but he never stops you.
one day, Soap comes looking for you and finds you in the middle of this little cleaning ritual. Soap nudges you away, insisting you instead let him chase you around the reef. but the moment your hands leave Ghost's rough skin and he hears you protest, he opens his eyes and snaps his teeth at Soap.
Soap pulls back (and so do you) until Ghost grasps your lil wrist and drags you back down wordlessly to where you were sitting and cleaning his shoulder.
Soap smirks at him. Ghost glares back.
"you got something to say, then say it."
"here i thought you were toleratin' it for her sake. seems i misjudged the situation."
"there is no situation."
"whatever you say."
Soap leaves with a flick of his tail. you're so pleased that, when you're finished grooming Ghost, you burrow yourself between his arms as he lays on his side. you nuzzle into his neck and bunt your head up against him, practically purring now that you know you've apparently won him over.
he grabs you, pretending to be disgruntled, but then instead of releasing you he crushes you against his chest again and settles in for a nap. no, you don't get to leave.
GAZ wonders what exactly is going on inside your head. it doesn't escape his notice that your """instincts""" seem to have you by the throat in this situation. but he suspects you're leaning a bit more into that whole brainless servant thing than you're letting on.
he's perfectly happy to let you groom him, flatter him, fetch him whatever baubles or snacks he'd like at the moment; he's perfectly polite to you, too. really likes it when you butter him up. tell him he's got the sharpest teeth and the strongest muscles and the fastest tail in the reef and he'll listen to you for hours, preening in the sunlight as you clean the grime off his fins.
plus, he praises you too, and you love that. that's why it takes you so long to notice he's watching you much more closely than anyone else is.
see, you've already disarmed Price. Soap sees you as a toy more than a fellow mer. Ghost cares more about finding the best places to lurk around than understanding the little mer that shares their reef now. it's fascinating--how you've successfully passed yourself off as a silly, stupid little fish. the more he watches you, analyzes you, the more he wonders what exactly you're getting out of this.
when you groom him each day, he asks you questions. casual ones. are you enjoying the reef? what games do you like to play? how fast can you swim? how many other mer have you met? are you eating enough? what's your favorite food?
it's enough to make you wary, but then, he seems harmless. you're honest with him. it pays off, because when you tell him how much you like the taste of those little brown seabirds that dip into the reef from time to time, you're shocked the next day to find one of those very seabirds sitting dead--neck cleanly snapped--just for you in the shallow alcove next to where Price sleeps (and you by extension).
you find Gaz that instant and insist it's too kind a gift; you can't accept it. what you can't tell him is that it's not a good idea for you to eat in front of them. you eat scraps, and you eat them where of them can see. that's the deal--obviously you do what you do for these four sharks in exchange for protection and ostensibly for food, but you need to avoid looking like you're taking more than your fair share. and to sharks, a species that is notoriously food-aggressive, your fair share must be vanishingly small.
he just smiles at you--so disarmingly that you flounder for a moment. somehow he convinces you to keep the kill.
he begins to turn up--looking amused but not surprised--when you steal scraps of food after the group has had its fill of a fresh kill. it makes you nervous for him to see you with food in hand (much less to watch you eat) but he scoffs at the idea of holding it against you.
at some point, he begins to bring you fresh meat himself. this is-- it's unacceptable. you're supposed to be the one working while he rests. he's not allowed to give you that kind of comfort. if you're not earning your keep, after all, you don't have a place here. you push his gifts away, busying yourself with some other task. he insists. you decline.
"you're refusing me?" he asks, feigning surprise. "i thought that went against your instincts."
you fluster, ruffling up in what he assumes is a pout. he's trapped you in a catch-22. ultimately, you have to accept the stupid meat-gift because it's what he wants. you find this makes you more irritable than it should. he smirks at you, which serves to irritate you more.
he pulls you into his lap as you eat. and he thinks it's so cute the way you scowl the whole time.
from then on, whenever you act a little too stupid for his liking, he pries and pokes and prods until he draws out that other, haughtier side of you. he has a knack for frustrating you. he loves to sass you, and when you finally drop the act and sass him back, he falls a little bit more in love with you every time.
...
more mer au / masterlist tag
#mine#snippet#mermay#mermay 2024#merman#x reader#cod x reader#call of duty x reader#tf 141 x reader#john price#captain price#captain john price#mermaid reader#kyle gaz garrick#johnny soap mactavish#john soap mactavish#monster romance#monster x reader#simon ghost riley#poly!141#ask
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anniversary antics
pairing: joel miller x f! reader
cw/tags: pwp, breeding kink (literally that's the fic), unprotected p in v (duh), dirty talk, established relationship (they're happily married?!), not beta read, written in one evening
summary: literally breeding kink
wc: 1.3k words
You’d always heard that married couples don’t have sex very often. You’d been warned about these ‘dead bedrooms’ by friends of yours, read about it on the internet – it was basically common knowledge.
Maybe there’s some truth to it, but you wouldn’t know because you married Joel Miller who gets older and sexier every day. Joel Miller, your husband who took you out to a nice dinner for your anniversary and sat across from you acting all polite and charming in his brand new suit, your husband who ripped your dress off the moment he got you through your front door.
Now you lie naked under him, already disheveled and ready to take whatever he’ll give you. You’re face-to-face with the man who makes you weak like no other. You affect him equally, you drive him wild, fill him with a fiery need that surpasses all other desires.
Though it takes all of your mental fortitude to fight the pull of arousal, your sensible self still peeks through for a moment.
“Joel, I’m pretty sure I’m ovulating right now.”
Joel slips back into his serious, practical, typical demeanor easily. A completely different man from the one who was sucking marks into the taut skin of your neck just a moment ago.
“Okay. You want me to pull out or do you wanna use a condom?” he asks as if those are the only two options.
“We can do whatever you want.” You shouldn’t tell him what you want.
“It’s not just about me. It’s your body, baby.” He leans in and whispers his next words into the shell of your ear: “tell me what you want.”
His voice is low and commanding. It makes you nervous for all the wrong reasons. You should be worrying about the consequences of doing this while you’re ovulating, you should be assessing the risks, but you can only think of the reward.
“I, uh- what if you didn’t do either of those things?”
“You mean you want me to cum inside you? Is that it?” He remains straight-faced, seemingly unfazed by something that’s been a kink you’ve kept secret for so long, believing it to be too taboo.
He’s not even inside you yet, he’s looming over you, skin barely ghosting over yours, but his words alone make you exhale a breathy moan, and he knows.
“You do want that, huh?” He gets that cocky grin on his face, proud of himself for figuring out what makes you tick, though it was hardly a mystery.
One of his hands remains by your head, balancing himself above you while the other is wrapped around his dick as he drags the head along your folds.
You grip the pillow and turn your head to the side, burying your face in it, determined not to let him hear the sounds coming from your mouth right now.
“I know how bad you want it, baby, but I think she wants it even more than you do,” he says, focusing on your cunt, playing with it and reveling in the lewd sounds that come with every swipe of his tip along your slit. “Listen to that,” he says
He’s silent for a second, letting you hear the slick noises of your wetness.
“I need you to look at me, sweetheart.” He ceases his teasing between your legs and brings his hand up to your face to cup your chin.
Hesitant to meet his eyes but desperate to have him inside you, you give in and look at him.
“Baby, she’s cryin’ ‘cause she needs it so bad. Are we gonna give it to her?”
“Only if you want to.” Translation: yes, please.
His tone is deeper, voice thick with conviction, when he replies. “Baby, you have no idea how bad I want it.”
You shouldn’t be surprised, and yet you are.
“Gimme your hand,” he says. “I want you to feel how hard I am right now.”
You oblige, let him take your hand and guide you to wrap your palm around his cock. It twitches in your grasp. “I didn’t know it could get this hard,” you say.
“Only when I’m with you.”
You shift your hips while you hold his cock steady lining it up with your entrance. “Please,” you whine, gazing up into his eyes.
His answer isn’t verbal. He eases into you, letting you feel his length stroke your inner walls as he gradually presses himself deeper.
“It feels so good,” you moan.
You wrap your arms around him, holding onto him like you’re afraid you’ll lose him.
“I know.” His voice is raspier now, barely hiding his own desperation. “Baby, just so you know, if you want me to stop-”
“-No! Don’t stop.” You wrap your legs around his hips, keeping him inside you, using your heels to force him even deeper.
He laughs – so much as one can when they’re running out of breath. “Or if you want me to pull out.” There’s a glint in his eye, he’s not ‘checking in with you’, he’s teasing you. “If you don’t want me to get you pregnant…”
On cue, your walls clench around him, betraying any facade of composure, and the smirk is already waiting on his face.
“I knew it,” he says. “You want me to get you knocked up, huh?”
In a haze, eyes half-lidded and empty of all thoughts but Joel getting you pregnant, you mumble in agreement, “uh-huh.”
“I could put a baby in you right now,” he says as if it’s some revelation. He continues to act flippant to tease you, but it’s getting to him too – you can hear it in his voice, rough and raspy.
The coil inside you tightens, so close to snapping, you can feel it. “Joel, I’m gonna cum.” It’s urgent, a warning, not a plea.
“Mm-hmm. You can cum for me. But I’m not gonna stop until I get you pregnant, baby.”
And that’s what brings you over the edge. Your walls clench around him, keeping him inside you, and your nails drag down his back, leaving marks, claiming him, knowing he’s about to make you his too.
You cum so hard you nearly scream but it’s all unintelligible aside from his name.
He doesn’t give you a second to catch your breath as he chases his own orgasm. All you can do is cling to him and sob out your pleas as you continue to soak the sheets.
“Look how deep I am, baby,” he says, eyeing the bulge his cock makes in your abdomen. “Gotta make sure I cum deep inside you if I wanna get you knocked up tonight.”
Joel’s not usually this talkative during sex. He’s the kind of guy to swear through gritted teeth and grunt with every thrust, but now, he’s talking dirty to you like he’s an expert. Like he’s practiced. Maybe in his head, he has.
It’s the look on your face, the way you can’t seem to shake yourself out of your last orgasm while teetering on the edge of the next, the way you’re losing yourself to your own pleasure that spurs him on.
“You feel so good, baby. I’m getting’ real close.”
“Me too.”
“Yeah?” His hand snakes its way downward so that his thumb can circle your clit in time with his thrusts.
His hips falter and he cums deep inside you with a low groan. You’re so caught up in your own that you struggle to focus on him. You want to see him, but your eyes screw shut when the intense pleasure courses through you. You gush around him, leaving him equally as messy as he leaves you.
Basking in the post-orgasm bliss, you slowly regain your senses.
“I could really be pregnant,” you say
“I doubt it,” he says.
“Why’s that?”
“Just my intuition.” He shrugs and a small smile graces his lips before he adds, “but we can always try again.”
#joel miller x reader#joel miller smut#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller x you#joel miller x y/n#joel miller#tlou smut#tlou fanfiction
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` 𝐇𝐞 𝐢𝐬𝐧’𝐭 𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐰𝐡𝐲 𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐬 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐚𝐝𝐯𝐢𝐜𝐞 𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐨𝐞𝐬.
[ … ] He just knows it’s lured, harshly tugged from him with a startling ease as the moment she comes back over after leaving to check on a patient in the neighbouring room. The distant sounds of her hard work bear fruits in the form of soothed groans, relief bleeding free over more aching pains. His words are a low rumbled hush, a ghost-like whisper kept soft, muffled as he calmly observes her by one of the open windows left slightly ajar.
Gotham’s Bat is cryptic as always with what he shares, making no move to close the distance any or show any indication he plans on leaving her clinic space anytime soon.
He was certain he’d caught something familiar in her sights, not lost, just… on the verge of drowning. Drowning if she lost her footing in the unsteady &&. shrouded path she chose to walk in her pursuit to do good for this ailing City. Where her efforts &&. steadfast determination would have led her greater places, made much more of an impact were she stationed anywhere else outside of this ever glum, dreary City…
She’d possibly have a better life. It’s familiar, blaringly so in a way reminiscent to peering right into a mirror. He isn’t a particularly huge fan of it, but it garners his respect all the same that @burntscars chooses still, even after all this time, to stay permanently settled in this location. It’s openly, easily accessible to any who need the help, doesn’t discriminate on the status of the patients she takes under her care be they criminal, hero, average citizen. She does so much, but the more he’s observed her base of operations, he realizes there’s no help here for what Ms. Sharma does. Just herself alone in tackling the seemingly never ending mission of healing the broken.
It’s his odd way of offering some form of advice to stay sane, to stay strong in continuing on. By having something solid, sturdy to anchor onto, it helped make everything feel that bit more worth it.
As the seconds tick on by, gradually turning into long stretching minutes in awkward, if pensive quiet, he exhales softly through his nose, a barely audible sound as the Bat softly asks what her anchor is in a moment of sincere curiosity.
` ❛ LAST LOGGED TRANSMISSION ˒﹚)
#' ◁ ılı||ılı ▷ … ¹². 𝙰𝚗𝚜𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚍#' ᴵᴰ : *AMALA SHARMA.#burntscars#' ❛ When they talk I hear their ghosts — every word they say to me. ❜ … *BURNTSCARS
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hii!! congrats on your 5k followers, I'm glad glad. 💖💖
cann I haveeeeee 🍩?? (frat!rafe with daddy kink??) 🙈🙈 i wish you the best!!
warnings: shy!reader, kinda mean!rafe, daddy kink, brief mention of phone sex/sexting, unprotected sex, semi public sex (at a party), slight choking, slight praise, dirty talk, creampie, hint of impregnation kink at the end
a/n: frat!rafe has a special place in my heart i’m afraid.. you guys have been sending me AMAZING req’s for my 5k celebration, i genuinely can’t wait to answer as many as i can <3
“come on, baby, call me what you called me in those text messages.” rafe teased you, his cock prodding at your entrance. if someone told you that sexting with a frat president would land you in his bed with his friends right outside the door, you wouldn’t believe them. “i can’t..” you whimpered, your eyes heavy with tears as he wrapped a hand around your throat. “yes, you can.” rafe studied your face. you looked so pretty underneath him. “what, are you shy now? you weren’t so shy when you sent me pictures of those perfect tits.” he laughed.
your skin flushed at the memory. you had never provocatively pointed a camera at yourself, let alone posed and sent a photo, but rafe’s words and desperation to see you naked had made you crumble. “please! ‘just want you inside me..” you reached up, pressing a hand against his toned chest. “not until you say it.” he shook his head, squeezing the sides of your neck softly. swallowing thickly, you gazed up at him. “who’s your fuckin’ daddy?” your eyebrows knitted together as rafe leaned down, his lips ghosting over your own. “you are- oh!” you gasped when he thrusted into you without warning.
“i’m your what?” he feigned confusion, taking your thigh and wrapping it around his waist. he felt so good, your walls stretching deliciously around his length. “you’re my daddy!” you practically screamed when his thumb found your clit, his lips latching onto the sensitive spot on your neck. rafe couldn’t explain it, but hearing you call him that made something primal awake within him. suddenly he wanted to fuck you dumb, and make you a whining mess. “you’re so fucking perfect, holy shit.” he rolled his hips into yours, your back arching off of his bed at the pleasure.
the lewd sounds of your soaked cunt, paired with the heavy breathing from the man above you, did nothing to conceal the music coming from downstairs where a party was in full swing. you clung onto him the closer you got to your peak, your eyes fluttering shut as he whispered filthy obscenities in your ear. “acting like a shy girl, but really you just want to be fucked like the filthy slut you are, huh?” you cried out, his advances on your sensitive bundle of nerves sending you over the edge, your thighs trembling as you covered your mouth. rafe looked offended as you tried to keep yourself quiet.
“fuck that, let me hear you.” he took the palm you had pressed against your lips and pinned it to your side. rafe leaned down, trailing kisses down your jaw as you let out the pettiest noises he’s ever heard. you shook against him, burying your face in the crook of his neck while he spilled inside of you, his own high hitting him with an unforgivable force. he cursed against your skin, his fingers curling into the flesh of your hips while he eased his movements to a smooth stop. you were still teary eyed and going through the aftershocks of your orgasm when he pulled out, watching gloriously as his seed spilled out of you.
“i should do this to you every night.. ‘make you really give me that ‘daddy’ title.” he smiled wickedly, wrapping both of you in his sheets as he comforted you, stroking your cheek and running his fingers through your hair until you fell asleep in his arms.
#❤︎₊ ⊹ works#𐙚⋆°. victoria’s 5k celebration#outer banks#outer banks smut#outer banks fanfiction#outer banks imagine#obx#obx rafe#obx smut#obx fanfiction#obx imagine#rafe cameron#rafe cameron smut#rafe cameron fanfiction#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron blurb#rafe cameron prompt#frat!rafe#rafe cameron x y/n#rafe cameron fic#rafe cameron imagine#rafe cameron x you#shy!reader#rafe fluff#rafe x you#rafe fanfiction#rafe smut#rafe x reader#rafe imagine#drew starkey
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