#before working on my longer fics. And the idea that there's someone waiting for my response makes my brain jump start yk | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

mypoisonedvine · 1 year ago

Text

"𝙄 𝙬𝙖𝙣𝙩𝙚𝙙 𝙝𝙞𝙢 𝙩𝙤 𝙨𝙚𝙚 𝙬𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙄'𝙢 𝙜𝙤𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙩𝙤 𝙙𝙤 𝙩𝙤 𝙮𝙤𝙪." | dark!jackson rippner x reader

(I'm sorry but also no I'm not because wes craven knew exactly what he was doing when he put that line in the movie... he fucking knew...)

𝙨𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮 | after following you for weeks as part of his job, jackson got a few ideas in his head about making you his, but finding out you had a boyfriend meant he needed to change his approach.

𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩 | just under 9k (wow what the actual fuck)

𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨 | DARK NONCON SMUT (18+ only, don't keep reading if you're not physically or emotionally mature enough to manage your own content consumption please and thank you), knife kink, stalking, forced exhibitionism, forced infidelity, humiliation, vaginal and anal sex (whoops), pain kink/painal, ass to pussy (god this fic is disgusting lmao), hair pulling, brief breeding kink/forced breeding, some angst but really it's just filth

once again, this is a dark character being dark and I don't wanna hear y'all acting brand new about it so no hate please. that said, if you do enjoy this (which I very much hope you do) please consider reblogging to support my work :) comments are especially appreciated and literally make me so so happy!!

Following you was just part of the job— and Jackson did not like his job mixing with his personal life.

The problem was, he hadn’t had much of a personal life lately. No time for it; one or two hook-ups, women he met in bars, but that’s it. And believe it or not, he wanted more than that. Nobody would accuse Jackson of being sentimental— not really an attitude you can have when you organize illegal weapons sales and political assassinations— but he wasn’t made of stone. He wanted to be able to share at least part of his life with someone… or, you know, have a nice set of legs waiting for him at home that he could get between every night. Either, or both, would do.

It was an unfortunate coincidence that his realization that he wanted a girlfriend, or at the very least a plaything of his own, came right around the same time that he started to follow you. He was only doing it to pick up on your habits, figure out a way to get to you so he could blackmail you into being his inside man for his next job. It was supposed to be pretty simple: you were a museum events coordinator in charge of an upcoming lecture series which would feature a speech from a Bolivian presidential candidate who was unfortunately unfriendly to cartels. The American government not only endorsed him, but had him under incredibly tight security. This speaking event was going to be a rare chance to get to him in a public space without metal detectors, and Jackson was being compensated generously to ensure your museum would let a few extra attendees in the back.

But see, the Bolivian presidential election was the last thing on Jackson’s mind as he watched you through your window. His eyes drifted all over you, mesmerized by the way you prepared yourself for your day— styling your hair in the mirror, smoothing the wrinkles in your white button-up, pulling those stockings up your thighs…

He caught himself biting his lip and shook it off, straightening up in the driver’s seat of his car; he knew he should probably leave then, beat you to your work and then wander into the museum to feign interest in a few artifacts before striking up a conversation. But he loitered a bit longer, letting himself imagine how quickly he could rip off those clothes you were so thoughtfully dressing yourself with.

Eventually, he managed to pull his attention away from you and start the car, sighing as he tried to remember his plan of attack for ‘accidentally’ meeting you later today.

The museum might’ve been interesting, if he wasn’t so distracted by you. He was loitering, hands in his pockets, pretending to look at the paintings and artifacts as he waited for you to be near enough to strike up an innocuous conversation with. Early in the day, he saw you give a tour to a couple considering the museum for a wedding location, but kept his distance— it could be a while before you were available and he didn't want you to notice him yet, or he'd have to justify having been in the museum all day by himself.

For the first time since he’d started this job, Jackson felt slightly nervous to speak to you. It was always a big step, going from following someone to actually approaching them, but usually it didn’t give him any specific emotional reaction. Sure, he might feel a certain amount of pressure to do this correctly lest he blow the whole thing by tipping off his target, but he never was worried something would go wrong. This time, though, he felt his heart picking up every time he glanced at you from across the museum, closer to you than he’d ever been. His palms were even a bit clammy when he saw you walk by and realized this was the moment he needed to strike. God, did he really have a crush? How pathetic… but he couldn’t worry about that now, he was about to lose his chance as you brushed by him quickly.

"Miss?" he got your attention, gently touching your shoulder through your shirt as you passed by; you seemed a little startled by the physicality, yes, but not exactly offended.

"Oh, um— can I help you?" you said. He’d heard you speak before, on the wiretap and all, but it was a little different in person like this— and directed at him.

"I was gonna ask you about this sculpture, if you didn't mind," he explained with a gentle smile.

"Oh, well, one of our dosants would love to talk to you about our collection—" you began, starting to look for the closest staff member designated to help him, but he interrupted.

"So, you don't know anything about the stuff here?"

Your attention moved back to him and you smiled to hide your obvious defensiveness. "No, I do," you assured, "I actually am uniquely equipped to tell you about this sculpture: I studied Incan art specifically during my master's program."

He gave his best 'quietly impressed' face and nodded; he knew he could get you with that, you had kind of a know-it-all thing going on, which he happened to find annoyingly attractive. "Alright, then tell me about it," he challenged.

"Well," you sighed, crossing your arms as you looked at the piece, "we got this one a few years ago, it's actually a ceremonial vessel— there’s the llama head and the bird on this side here, those were both animals with a lot of cultural significance…”

As you pointed out elements of the vessel, he leaned in ostensibly to look at where you were gesturing— but it was all an excuse to get close to you, warm you up to him.

“They would’ve used this to pour essentially a form of beer on the ground,” you continued, “in hopes of increasing the strength of the crops and fertility."

"Fascinating," he smiled at you, and you didn’t back away when he stood closer. Like fish in a barrel. "How old is it?"

"It's estimated to be about four or five hundred years old,” you explained.

"Wow," he nodded, looking at the stone carving behind the glass again. "It's interesting to me that humans have always made art— and always been superstitious. Though I have to be honest, if I was living before the invention of birth control I don't think I'd be praying for fertility."

You smirked a little, and he hoped he hadn't gone too far— but it was fun to look at you and know what you must be thinking about. He could only hope that you were thinking about it with him in mind.

“Jackson, by the way,” he introduced himself, “my name’s Jackson. It feels unfair that you’ve gotta wear the nametag and I get to be anonymous.”

You laughed a little, glancing down at the silver nametag on your blazer and then back up at him. “Fair enough; welcome to our museum, Jackson.”

“So, wait,” he tilted his head, “forgive the late reaction here, but— if you’ve got a master’s degree of that caliber, how’d you end up as an event planner?”

“Well, believe it or not, the position does require historical knowledge,” you explained. “I started in curation, though— just moved to events because I was too cooped up in the back offices… I like meeting new people.”

Although Jackson would never consider himself particularly empathetic, he did think he had a decent sense of people— specifically, when they were lying. And that felt like a lie— a white lie, maybe, but still. A lie you were telling yourself most of all, that this was what you wanted to do. And it wasn’t that he really thought you disliked your job, moreso that his two weeks of following you did not indicate you harbored a strong desire to meet new people. You were a total homebody: rejecting offers to go out for drinks or dinner from friends and coworkers, staying up late watching TV instead of hitting the town or something, shrinking into your room every night and staying there until it was time to go to work again. He’d only seen you leave your house once that first weekend, and it was to pick up groceries— that’s it. No hot date, no concerts… almost no social life at all. Either you stayed late at the museum, or you went home.

And he also found that annoyingly attractive. Jackson, after all, was a workaholic himself; he imagined he would go out and do fun things, if he had the time, but right now nothing sounded better than going home and cuddling up with a sweet girl like you, being lazy couch potatoes together, resting after a long day of espionage, cyberterrorism, actual terrorism, and whatever else his work day got him up to.

….Jesus, when did he get so goddamn sentimental?!

“It certainly seems like a unique job,” Jackson replied.

“Every day’s a little different,” you agreed.

“Sounds like my job,” he snorted, “but I don’t work with other people much— I think it would be more entertaining with other people around. Especially when they can tell me everything there is to know about Incan art.”

“Okay, I don’t know everything,” you backpedaled, not seeming to really notice the larger sentiment of his statement, “but I can certainly hold my own. I like to think we all have something we know a little too much about, and could ramble for ages about.”

“Yeah, I hope so, or we’re just weirdos,” he chuckled. “For me it’s probably cocktails. I’m not an alcoholic or anything— I actually don’t drink that much, just socially, you know— but I have this thing where I can guess anybody’s favorite drink order.”

“Oh?” you raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah,” he smirked, “but hold on, I can’t guess yours until I really get the vibes.”

“Oh,” you nodded, “yeah— vibes, sure.”

“Hmm,” he pondered, narrowing his eyes as he looked you up and down, biting his lip like he was really thinking about it.

Here was the hard part: he really hadn’t seen you go out for drinks this whole time, so he was actually going to have to guess. Of course, the fun part of this game was not actually getting it right— if anything, it worked better when he got corrected. All he really needed was to get you alone long enough to tell you who he really was, what he needed from you, and how he was going to motivate you to do it… but if he could actually seduce you first, that would be a hell of a bonus.

“I’m thinking something a little sweet, not too fruity though,” he thought aloud, “something classic— you have an old soul, I think.”

You seemed to be a little surprised by that analysis, but he figured that meant he was mostly right.

“Your cocktail of choice is, obviously, a sidecar,” he announced.

For a second, he thought he might have got it from the way you smiled, but then you started to laugh. “You were on the right track,” you admitted.

“Damn,” he snapped his fingers in playful frustration. After a pause, he realized, “you’re not gonna tell me?”

“I figured I’d give you another guess,” you explained.

“Or,” Jackson countered, “I could take you out tonight, and you could show me yourself. Your drink order, I mean.”

Alright, that was forward, but he figured he’d been doing well so far. Instead, though, you tensed up a bit, causing Jackson to knit his eyebrows together for a moment. “I would, really, but, I have plans tonight… with my boyfriend,” you said.

He swallowed behind a barely-suppressed frown. Following you for all this time and he hadn’t noticed any boyfriend; were you lying just to get him to back off? You’d seemed so flattered before. “Oh?” Jackson tried to get out in his most neutral voice. “That’s great— is he taking you somewhere nice?

“Even better,” you blinked quickly, a shy smile lifting your face. “He works here at the museum, but he’s been gone almost an entire month to pick up some artifacts from around Eastern Europe… hasn’t even been able to use a phone out there. So he’s promised to come over and give me a first look at everything he got, and apparently he’s brought something just for me, so…”

“That’s sweet,” Jackson replied, willing his nostrils not to twitch. “Nice to know he was thinking of you all the way over there. I travel a lot for my work, actually, and it’s… hard to find somebody loyal these days.”

You nodded in agreement, sighing slightly. “Yeah, it is.”

“I mean, gone for a month, no communication, no reminders of you— just out there surrounded by opportunities and nothing keeping him from them,” Jackson went on. “That’s a lot to get through without at least one drunken encounter.”

You furrowed your brow, looking at him with a sort of grimace. “I… I guess,” you mumbled in reply. “I do have a lot of work to get done so I think I’ll just let you explore,” you decided.

“What if I have more questions about the pieces?” he asked.

“Try reading the little plaque underneath it,” you suggested flatly, already turning and walking away.

Jackson watched to leave for a second before scoffing to himself. Bitch. But it didn’t make a difference anyways: one way or another, he was going to get to you— for the sake of the job, of course. Although this boyfriend character was certainly a spanner in the works of his secondary plan to get you in bed, Jackson had to admit that he was ultimately an advantage for his actual purpose with you: an attachment, something he could exploit to get what he wanted. Do what I say, or he gets hurt.

Of course, he knew he should use that to make you be his inside man for that stupid lecture series— he wasn’t going to get the second half of his payoff until the cartel had their chance to make an example out of the visiting politician. But, as a small smile crept over his face while he walked out of the museum, he realized that he could use his leverage for so much more than that.

The door was unlocked when you got home; beaming, you realized it meant that your boyfriend beat you here, and was likely waiting for you just around the corner.

“Babe?” you called out, shutting the door behind you and shirking your purse and blazer to set down on the wooden credenza.

And yes, he was waiting for you around the corner alright, but you gasped in shock and felt your stomach sink when you saw him. He was bound to a chair with zipties, restrained at his wrists and ankles with tape over his mouth, looking a bit roughed up and absolutely terrified.

“Oh my god!” you gasped, running to him, but he oddly seemed to pull away from you as much as he could when you tried to break one of the ties. “What the fuck, what’s— oh my god, are you—?” you rushed, not even knowing where to start and just focusing on freeing him. But he just kept letting out muffled grunts and shaking his head— like he didn’t want you to keep going. Of course, you’d been so shocked by it that you hadn’t even considered why he looked so scared, why he seemed to want you to get away from him: whoever did this was still in the house.

It seemed obvious in retrospect, but it was too late now; you screamed when someone grabbed you, but the sound was muted by a hand over your mouth. “Shh,” a voice beside your ear soothed as a blade pressed to your neck. “Nobody’s going to get hurt if you behave.”

Your boyfriend hung his head defeatedly, and you thought you heard the sound of him crying though it was hard to tell.

“You missed him quite a lot, didn’t you?” the man asked, and you wrinkled your brows together as you wondered how he could’ve known that he was gone for a while. “Left you all alone here, poor thing— probably got all worked up, lonely, needy… like three nights ago, when I saw you through your bedroom window, touching yourself."

Your face burned with humiliation— not even that he saw you doing that, really, but just knowing he'd been watching you for god-knows how long. That made you feel more violated than anything.

“Wanted to help you so bad,” he purred, “but I had to wait. I’m not waiting anymore— you’ve got me feeling pretty fucking impatient these days.”

You kept thinking about what you could do to get him away from you— his feet were just behind yours, you could stomp on his shoe and hope it hurt enough to distract him, or maybe you could wrench your elbow back into his side— but with the knife at your throat, you were afraid that he’d be faster than you if you tried anything. “Please just— don’t hurt me, please,” you begged, whimpering a little, not sure what else to say at a time like this.

“Oh, honey,” he cooed, “you sound so sweet when you’re scared.”

It was the way he said that word: sweet. It reminded you of before, something you’d done your best to forget about all day. Something a little sweet, not too fruity— that weird guy at the museum, he’d said it just like that. “Oh my god,” you breathed, “it’s— it’s you.”

“You remember my name, don’t you?” he smiled.

“Jackson,” you recalled, “you— oh my god—”

“I’m sure you’re a little relieved,” he chuckled, addressing your boyfriend with a grin as you turned your head enough to look up at his semi-familiar face. “She was so into me when we met today at the museum,” Jackson informed him proudly. “You wanted me to fuck you then, didn’t you, baby?”

“No I fucking di—” you began to deny with a sneer, but he quieted you with a finger over your mouth— of course, a finger from the hand still holding the knife, to remind you exactly why you should stop talking.

“Now, try anything, I might just have to hurt you— or, better yet, your shitstain boyfriend over there,” Jackson warned. “I’m just waiting for an excuse to break a few of his fingers. Don’t give me one.”

Swallowing, you shut your eyes for a longer moment— you couldn’t believe this was actually happening, like one of those horrific news articles you read before bed just to torture yourself. Like one of those horror movies guys think are campy and fun but give you the most awful sick feeling because that could really happen. And now it was really happening, and your first thought was somehow to wonder what you did wrong to let this happen.

“So, are you gonna be a good girl for me?” he asked, tilting his head down to look at you questioningly.

You nodded, but he wasn’t satisfied.

“Say it.”

“Yes,” you answered quickly, and he snarled with frustration.

“No, baby, say it like I said it,” he insisted, his tone a warning not to test him again.

“I’m gonna be… I’m gonna be a good girl…” you choked out.

“Whose good girl?” he taunted, and you groaned as you shut your eyes, feeling him pull you closer to him and press his face close to yours.

“Yours! Your good girl,” you spat out, breath picking up as you heard him purr against your cheek. “Jackson— please, you don’t… you don’t have to do this. Please don’t do this.”

You shivered as the knife pressed against you again and moved from your neck down to your shirt, gently slicing off the top button and exposing a little more of your chest. “Mm, but I want to,” he explained, “wanted you since I first saw you.”

You hated the realization that he likely first saw you quite some time ago, before you ever knew he existed, and that he’d been waiting for this ever since then.

“I think it turns you on, knowing I can do whatever I want to you,” he presumed, cutting off a second button from your shirt.

“Please just go,” you begged, starting to properly cry as his teeth grazed your neck. “You’re right— you can do whatever you want. I can’t stop you. Isn’t that what you wanted to prove? Just… just don’t make me—”

“Make you?” he repeated. “No, no— you wanted me. I could tell. Only thing stopping you was him.”

He pointed towards your boyfriend with the knife in his hand, who looked devastated and horrified to say the least.

“You could do better, by the way,” Jackson informed you. “You should be with somebody who can really treat you right.”

Another button fell to the floor; your bra was visible now, baby pink lace, and your nipples hardened from the cool air on your skin— that, and the way Jackson’s breath fanned across the nape of your neck.

“Are you getting wet for me, baby?” he whispered to you as his knife trailed delicately over your skin, tracing the curve of your breasts. “Think it’s time for me to finally give you what you need?”

You took a deep, but shaky, breath as you tried to put on a brave face and brace for what was to come. “My… my bedroom is upstairs,” you whispered, and Jackson laughed in a way that made your skin crawl.

“Oh, eager already,” he taunted.

“I just wanna get this over with,” you insisted.

“Sure,” he said facetiously with a mischievous smirk and a wink to match; you felt like you were gonna be sick. “But bedrooms are a little, you know… basic? That’s probably what you’re used to, real traditional stuff: missionary, in the bed, in the dark, for a few minutes on weekends only. That’s the vibe I’m getting, at least. You’re not used to being with somebody romantic— you know, spontaneous.”

He turned you around to face him, making you yelp a little as he spoke by your ear.

“Somebody who just has to have you; right here, right now,” he cooed, running his tongue along the outside of your ear before suddenly kissing roughly along your neck.

“N-no, please,” you begged, imagining the humiliation you were in store for if he really did fuck you on your living room floor in front of the man you loved. “Please, I— I said I’ll be good for you, just— take me to my room, please.”

"No, baby,” Jackson purred as he held your chin, “let’s show your little boyfriend here what you look like when a real man fucks you, huh?"

Whining, you jerked your arms forward to try to break away, but it only ensured the bruises his fingers would leave on your skin.

A second later, you were shoved to the ground, and he was on top of you wearing a wide grin. You could hear your boyfriend kicking and screaming in the corner, but your attention was more focused on Jackson starting to open his belt.

"Fuck! Get the fuck off of me!" you yelped, kicking and shoving as hard as you could and finding each one more helpless than the last. "You— you fucking piece of shit!"

He smacked you across the face only to pull it back harshly by the jaw, glaring into your eyes. "Better be careful with that dirty mouth," he warned, shoving two fingers between your lips until you gagged on them. "Don't need to wash that out with soap, do we?"

As you choked, you shook your head, hoping it would be enough of an apology to get you some air.

"How about come?" he joked, making you gag for more than one reason, and he laughed at the tears that rolled down your temples.

He took his fingers out of your mouth and reached down to his fly again, letting out a small satisfied sigh as he freed himself. You sobbed a little when you accidentally caught a glimpse of his erection in his hand; he grunted when you tried to push him off again, and responded by grabbing both your wrists and pinning them down above your head. He hummed as he stroked himself a bit, looking down at you trapped under him.

“Thought you said you were gonna be good for me,” he recalled, chuckling when you bit your shaking lip. “You sure you don’t need me to hurt Romeo over there, give you a little motivation?”

You shook your head. “No— I’m sorry, I’ll do what you say. Don’t hurt him.”

“Open your legs,” he ordered.

Hesitantly, you lifted your legs up a bit and spread them, cringing at the happy groan you heard when your skirt started to roll up your thighs.

“Don’t move your hands,” he warned before he let go of them, leaning back and looking down at you: spread out under him, his for the taking.

He snapped off the last few buttons of your shirt, humming when your torso was exposed further. His hand started at your neck and ran down to grope your chest through the lacy bra; he purred, pinching your hardened nipples until you were forced to react.

Pulling it down, he took a quick breath at the sight of your bare tits— his chest rising and falling— and he set his knife aside to knead them both with a hum. "Been thinking about these for a while…" he mumbled. You gasped when he leaned down and captured a nipple in his mouth, suckling with a wide mouth as you scrunched your nose and looked away. Still, it made your insides pulse when he swirled his tongue around, only to pop off a second later and move to the other. "Damn," he breathed, leaning back again to move his attention lower.

Starting at your knees, he rubbed your legs carefully, moving a little higher every time until he was gripping needily at your thighs; his own breathing was a little faster as he did it.

You hadn't exactly imagined how this would be, obviously, but you still were surprised at how long he was taking. Was he just trying to build up the anticipation to scare you? Or was it for his own benefit?

He was gentle for just a few seconds before suddenly flaring his nostrils and ripping your stockings open. Through the new hole in the fabric, he rubbed your panties and you bit down on your tongue to avoid crying any harder.

“Fuck,” he breathed, then laughed, as he pet your cunt through the lace— they matched your bra, of course. Your boyfriend was coming back from a long trip, you’d wanted to do something nice for him… that idea backfired completely. “All dressed up, matching and everything… you’re too good to me, babydoll.”

You were about to correct him, make sure both of them knew that this had nothing to do with Jackson, but your open mouth only let out a gasp when Jackson pulled your panties aside to touch you.

“Oh, baby,” he groaned when he slid two fingers between your lips. “So wet. Fuck. When’d you get like that, huh? Hmm, it was the knife, wasn’t it?”

He looked over at your boyfriend and gave him a terribly smug look while he slipped a finger inside your hole.

“Women like a sense of danger,” he informed the tied man flatly. “But… I think your girl likes it even more than most.”

You flexed on his finger, turning his attention back to you, and he licked his lips as he slipped another finger in until you winced.

“That’s too much for you already, baby?” he noticed. “Fuck, I might break you…”

He curled the fingers inside you, clearly trying to get you warmed up for him, and you shut your eyes tight in hopes your face wouldn’t show any reaction. There was a sense of relief when he stopped and pulled his fingers out, but it didn’t last long since the next thing he did was grab your jaw and press those fingers to your lips.

“Ever tasted yourself before?” he asked, and you tried to turn your face away but it was useless. “Come on, it’s good, I’ll show you.”

He licked his own fingers first, moaning in satisfaction as he did it.

“Fuck, it’s sweet,” he promised. “Now you try it.”

This time, when he put his fingers to your mouth, you opened it and let him push them inside. He slid them over your tongue, watching you with dark eyes.

“Suck them,” he instructed you quietly, almost a whisper, and though your cheeks burned you wrapped your lips around his fingers and hollowed your cheeks. “Mm, that’s it— see, you can be a good girl. Knew you could.”

You were panting a little, for some reason, when he took his fingers away, leaving your mouth slack and wet. He brought his hands down to his fly to finish freeing his cock, and you looked up, to the side, basically anywhere but at… that.

“Look at it,” he encouraged you, and you shook your head. “Don’t you wanna see it before I put it inside you?”

You figured you could get him to shut up if you just did it, so you went ahead and took a glance down at his erection in his hand, only for a terrified whimper to catch in your throat.

“I can tell what you’re thinking,” he grinned. “Trying to remember the last time you had a dick this big, right?”

Trying to figure out how that’s supposed to fit.

“Get on your hands and knees for me,” he demanded suddenly, sitting back enough to get you room to do it.

You hesitated, and he suddenly looked angry as he grabbed your wrist and yanked you up a bit until you yelped.

“Go on! Hands and fucking knees, did I stutter?” he ordered, louder.

You were a little sore and weak all over, and it became even more apparent when you awkwardly got up off the floor; you avoided your boyfriend’s gaze as you took the position, opting to just stare down at the rug under you instead, suddenly fascinated by every detail in hopes it could somehow distract you from this. From the feeling of him delicately pushing your skirt up over your ass and his hands all over you, from the way he pushed your knees apart with his own and settled between them, from the sick drop in your stomach as his cock’s head rubbed over your clit and lined up to your opening. Yes, it sure was a riveting pattern on this rug alright…

But, of course, Jackson wouldn’t let you get through this that easily. “Beg for it,” you heard his firm voice from behind you.

“Jackson, come on, I—” you choked, “I— just—”

“It’s okay, babydoll, go on…” he egged you on, as if shyness was the reason you were hesitating.

“Please…” you began, shutting your eyes tightly. “Please fuck me.”

You tried not to react too much when he pushed inside, but it was big, and he himself let out a husky groan at the feeling as he filled you. You managed to stay silent at first, but a little squeak came out halfway through, and it turned into a loud sigh when he was all the way inside. “Fuck,” he breathed, dropping his head back with a breathy laugh. “Fuck, it’s tight. Guess that’s what happens when nobody’s here to treat you right— and I don’t just mean because he was out of town. I can tell nobody’s given you what you need in a long time…”

Before you could wonder what could possibly make him capable of telling that, he took a tight hold of your hips and began to fuck you— slower than you expected, but not quite delicate.

Shaking, you tried to keep yourself propped up on your wobbly arms as he set his pace, and tried to keep yourself quiet while he did this. The last thing he needed was any more reasons to think you liked this.

Still, you couldn’t fight the whimper that came when he suddenly slammed himself into you, rougher than before; your thighs even quivered for a moment. “Fuck,” you choked out, under your breath, and he hummed back at you as he sped up a little.

“Not too deep, is it?” he asked, though it didn’t seem like he was actually concerned for your well-being (obviously). “Not used to anything this big, huh?”

You were afraid he was going to force you to answer that, but instead he surprised you by putting a hand between your shoulder blades and shoving you down; you gasped and grunted when your chest pressed to the floor, your face thankfully turned to the side against the rug— but unfortunately, it meant you were looking right at your boyfriend. You had to shut your eyes, too ashamed that he was seeing you like this.

“There, you like that better?” he purred as he held your hips up against his, but the new angle only forced him deeper until you were choking on nothing with every thrust. Your hands searched wildly along the floor for something to hold onto, but eventually just had to settle for gripping the rug for dear life. “Mm, fuck, s’good— you feel so fucking good, baby…”

The compliment sent an unwilling shiver up your spine, and your back arched even deeper than he’d forced it to. It was too much, it was all far too much, but your toes were curling inside your (ruined) pantyhose and you bit down on your lip without thinking about it.

“Oh, see how much she likes it?” Jackson grunted, apparently still addressing the captive boyfriend in the chair— you really wished he would just leave him out of this. “Fuck, what a pretty little whore…”

Not only could he switch from sickly-sweet to rageful in a moment, but you realized that he could somehow seem to be both at once. Still spitting out praises and insults all at one, he fucked you rougher and meaner as your moans— pain or pleasure, you couldn’t tell anymore and you didn’t want to— grew louder. He kept getting more aggressive— harder and faster, harder and faster— until you were all but screaming and you couldn’t keep your hips up anymore. Each thrust pushed you down until you were flat against the floor, but he kept fucking you and holding the back of your neck. One thrust seemed to go too deep suddenly, and you yelped as you reached back to try to grab his thigh out of instinct.

“Shh, shh, s’okay, baby,” he assured with a hiss. “Fuck.”

But he kept doing it, kept fucking you deep (if a little slower) as you whined and shook under him. “Jackson,” you heard yourself breathe, “please— I-I can’t—”

“God,” he growled, “say my name again. That’s so hot.”

You hadn’t meant it like that, but now it was too late. “N-no,” you tried to deny, but that didn’t last long as he grabbed you by the hair and forced your head up, laying over you enough to speak right against your ear.

“Say. My fucking. Name,” he spat.

“Jackson,” you choked out against the strain on your throat from having your neck cranked back like this. “Jackson, f-fuck—”

He groaned and dropped your head, propping himself up so he could fuck you faster again; his gaze moved down to where his body filled yours, where each thrust made your ass bounce under torn pantyhose…

As he slowed down for a moment, panting, you wondered if maybe it was almost over— maybe it already was, but that seemed too good to be true. He was still holding you down just as hard, anyway; he put his whole weight on your arms as he turned to look at your boyfriend tied up in the chair.

"Does she do anal?" Jackson asked him point-blank.

Your struggle renewed as you screamed angrily— but you couldn't keep it up, it fell into a helpless sob a moment later. Your boyfriend didn't give much of an answer— couldn't, really, on account of the duct tape— just kicked around against his restraints again.

Jackson shrugged as he looked down at you crying under him. "Well, you do now," he decided, pulling out and spitting into his hand.

You’d never felt so helpless, laying there on the floor while he pushed his fat tip up to your puckered hole. “Please,” you begged for mercy, but you didn’t even have the energy to lift your head from the rug and it was all muffled and pathetic.

“It’s really not that bad,” he insisted as he started to press forward, but your whole body jumped and you let out a loud whine when his head slipped inside with a sort of pop— all that pressure giving way to a sick, stinging stretch.

“Oh my god oh my god,” you whimpered, feeling goosebumps break out all over your body from the sharp pain. “I can’t— please, I really can’t—”

“Shh, it’s okay, I’m gonna go real slow,” he promised under his breath, moaning loudly as he pushed in a little deeper. Laying on the floor like this, there was really nowhere for you to go, no way to run from the feeling. “Just breathe, long slow breaths— focus on staying relaxed.”

Frustratingly, it was actually pretty good advice; it certainly didn’t make it painless, but when you shut your eyes and thought as much about breathing and as little about anything else as you could, it helped.

“See? Just relax, babydoll,” he whispered, but relaxing could only do so much as he slid the rest of the way in and you felt like your whole body might go numb. Your eyes rolled back, your insides (all of them, it seemed) flexed, your heart was pounding… you felt sick, and disgusting, and used.

He breathed heavy as he laid his weight on top of you, slipping an arm under you to wrap around your shoulders and neck.

"Fuck, that's a tight fuckin' ass," he grunted, laughing a little as he glanced at your boyfriend, slowly beginning to move again. "This one's got you spoiled, huh? How'd a loser like you get your hands on a perfect fucktoy like this?"

He bit down on the shell of your ear as he picked up his pace quickly— way too quickly— and soon he was growling each time he slammed his hips against your ass. You couldn’t even tell what noises you were making anymore…

"But you're gonna be mine now," he whispered to you. "Oh fuck, s'all gonna be mine. Gonna fill these pretty holes of yours every fuckin' day."

You dropped your head down defeatedly onto the floor, though shocks of pain were still making your fingers and toes curl while he roughly fucked your other hole.

“Yeah, fuck, you fuckin’ like it,” he snarled as he fucked you faster. “Needy little slut. You like getting all your holes filled, huh?”

You simply bit down on your lip, not realizing it wasn't a rhetorical question.

"Answer me," he insisted.

"I-I don't like it," you said— quietly, because if you spoke any louder it would've been mostly unintelligible with sobs.

"Huh?" he taunted, leaning in closer.

"It hurts, Jackson," you choked, pleading.

“No?” he noticed, feigning shock with heavy sarcasm in his tone. “Are you saying you don’t like it up the ass?”

“Please, please,” you choked out, “fuckin’ hurts— god, please, hurts—”

"You don't like it, sweetheart?" he cooed at you, cloying condescension dripping from every word as he roughly pet the hair out of your face. You whined and shook your head. "Well, I could always put it back in your cunt, would that make you feel better?"

He chuckled at your grimace of disgust.

"Is that too dirty for you?" he wondered, clicking his tongue. "Aw, it's okay, just gonna give you what you wanted— hold still, baby."

You winced when he pulled out of your ass, only to whine as he slid back into your cunt; you hid your face, feeling how absurdly warm it had become from all this, and tried not to think about how dehumanizing what he had just done to you was.

He picked his pace right back up when he entered you, letting out a deep groan of satisfaction. "Oh my god you're fucking dripping, is that from being fucked in your little ass?" he noticed. "Jesus Christ, wettest fucking pussy I ever had... somebody likes it dirty, hm?"

You wanted to deny it, but he wasn’t lying about your physical reaction; you were soaking, and you didn’t even know why. It wasn’t like you found much pleasure in that experience physically, it was rather agonizing— and then there was the thought of it, of knowing you’d been used that way, and it just made you feel dizzy and weird. Regardless, it was true… your body responded even when your mind was running in circles convincing itself there was nothing enjoyable about this.

“Such a pretty thing,” Jackson purred at you as he sped up again, shaking your whole body against the floor— that arm around your shoulders was the only thing keeping you from being pushed away, and he held you tightly like he really was worried you’d get away somehow, even though you’d stopped resisting quite a while ago.

At least it didn’t hurt anymore— except that you were still a little sore, and he was holding you too tight and his weight made it hard to breathe, and you were probably going to get rug burn, and you felt disgusting. But in a literal sense, it hurt less.

“Think I need to turn you over and get a good look at that pretty face,” he decided, pulling out of you and rolling you onto your back. Maybe it was just because you knew it was only for a moment, but being empty wasn’t as much of a relief as you expected. You were pretty much limp by this point, letting him turn you over and simply looking up at him blankly. “Oh,” he said as he smiled proudly, “look how fucked out you look— and I’m not even done with you yet.”

Lifting your legs and pressing them against your chest, he slid back in until he was deeper than you thought possible, and you gasped and shivered helplessly. “F-fuck, wait—“

He started to fuck into you quickly, and you nearly screamed, reaching down to try to hold his thigh or push him back or something to keep him from going so far inside you, but nothing deterred him. For how drained you were a moment ago, the shock of this gave you renewed energy, and you hated feeling your walls bear down on him in sick, overwhelming pleasure. “Oh god,” he moaned, “so fucking good.”

As hard as you were trying not to be loud, your efforts were lost when he reached down and roughly rubbed at your swollen clit; again, you tried to reach to stop him, holding onto his wrist and pushing his hand away with all your strength, but he bested you easily and kept going. “Fuck!” you screamed. “Please, please— it’s too much, I—”

“It’s okay, baby,” he soothed, watching proudly as your back arched and your head tilted back with a gasp.

You hadn’t even realized you were building to an orgasm— you would’ve sworn you weren’t, before, but now you felt all sensitive and sticky, and his thumb on your clit was relentless, and the shivers that had been running all over you all evening were turning into hard, heavy jolts of— of something. Something you’d been holding back longer than you realized. Something you hadn’t felt in much, much longer than three weeks.

“It’s okay,” he kept encouraging you with a proud grin that turned into a growl through his teeth as he fucked you harder. “Show him what it looks like when you’re not faking it, babydoll. Show him who you really belong to now.”

“Please,” you cried, the word barely spoken and more just a shape you made around your cries. If he didn’t stop now, you wouldn’t be able to, either; you were spasming uncontrollably, inside and out, it was just getting worse and worse (or better and better, depending on how you looked at it).

It felt fucking good. You would die before you admitted it, but you didn’t have to— it was obvious. And it was overtaking everything now, even your shame, until for one impossible moment, you were completely shameless. You weren’t sure you had ever felt quite like that before— not just physically, but spiritually. Shameless. Even though all you’d felt until now was ashamed. “Good girl,” Jackson praised you, though it was sort of lost on you as you were coming down from a high that hit you hard enough to not even feel real until it was nearly over.

It was like time had slowed down, and then snapped back to superspeed, to hyperreality, when he finally pulled his hand away and let you have a small reprieve.

"Fuck, I'm gonna come, oh my god," he gasped, his voice getting oddly high-pitched as he said it. "Want me to come inside, babydoll, or paint that pretty face?"

“Not… not inside,” you warned, just conscious enough to remember that.

“Mm? Why not?” he smirked.

You were still blinking away the blurriness in your vision, panting, trying to process all that you’d just felt— so you really didn’t have any energy for stupid questions like that. “What?” you just asked groggily. “Why… why do you think?!”

He just laughed briefly— more like a hum— and kept going. Of course, you should’ve known he’d do it once he realized your boyfriend didn’t; but wasn’t it enough that you and your boyfriend used condoms and Jackson had already gone past that?

“Just— just don’t,” you begged again, shut up with a firm hand over your mouth suddenly as he grunted lowly above you with each thrust.

“Fuck,” he said, a sort of warning though it wasn’t specific. “Fuck!”

He bit his lip when it happened; you shut your eyes, not wanting to see his face all slack and flushed like that with his hair falling forward and his neck and jaw flexing. But closing your eyes only made the feeling inside you more undeniable: the rush of warmth, the flexing against your walls as he pushed himself in as deep as he could. You whimpered a little, though you weren’t sure it was audible to anyone but yourself, and Jackson sighed as he emptied himself into you.

He took his hand away with a deep breath, and all you did was let your mouth fall open and your eyes blink numbly— what else was there to do?

As he caught his breath, he laughed a little, very softly; he put his hands on the floor beside your head, propping himself up but letting his head hang down loosely for a second— he was still smiling.

“You’re… you’re really something else, you know that, babydoll?” he informed you.

You didn’t say anything, and he sighed again just before he pulled out— you both winced, for different reasons, and he took a moment to hold your legs open so he could look at what he’d done to you; you felt filthy and exposed like that, but you were too weak to try to stop him or even to close your legs.

“Now that’s just beautiful,” he decided in reaction to whatever he saw; you didn’t want to picture it, how stretched out and used up you must look, but you could feel his come oozing out, running down.

Some of the numbness was already wearing off, at least physically, and you were beginning to realize how purely un-ergonomic it was to get fucked on the floor. Your back and shoulders were sore, your legs were tight when you finally got to lay them down again after being held up for so long… you tried not to imagine how long you’d be feeling the effects of this, wearing bruises and feeling knots and having to know exactly where they came from.

“Come on,” he mumbled as he lifted up your limp upper body, pulling you closer to him. He held your face for a second, petting your cheek which was still a bit clammy with sweat. “Kiss me,” he demanded, though he said it somewhat softly; you didn’t actually sit up and do it for him, but you let him press his lips to yours and you tried your best to half-heartedly mirror his movements as he did it.

He held your head and neck more firmly and slid his tongue into the kiss, making you whimper a little but that was the end of your protest. You thought it was a little strange that he wanted to kiss you now, but maybe it was just a matter of claiming you in the final way since he’d pretty much covered all the others.

When he broke away, he brushed his thumb over your cheek and smiled at you sweetly.

It’s over, you told yourself, hoping to feel more relieved. It’s over, he’s finally done with you. You did it. It’s over. But as those words repeated in your mind, you only felt emptier than ever.

“Look at your boy over there,” Jackson mumbled beside your ear, a smirk on his lips as he shook you a bit with the arm around you. “You see it, don’t you? He looks different now.”

You dared to glance at your captive boyfriend, who you realized you hadn’t heard muffled protests from in quite some time. His eyes were bloodshot and swollen, but dark, too; his stare was heavy and piercing. You suddenly felt sick.

“He looks at you different now.”

You bit down on your lip as it started to shake; you felt worse than ever with him looking at you like that. Things hadn’t been perfect before he left— nothing’s ever perfect— but they were good, and easy, and now you felt like he hated you. But what had you done wrong? All you’d done was try to keep him unharmed by appeasing this awful, horrible person…

Jackson had already been speaking quietly, but he dropped his voice down to whisper as he rubbed your shoulder. “I don’t think he’ll look at you the same way ever again,” he posited, and you swallowed as your stomach dropped.

“I don’t… I don’t understand,” you whispered under your breath.

“He’s never seen you like that before,” Jackson explained, “and he understands now that he can’t do for you what I can.”

Jackson brought his hand to his own chest as he said that, but then reached up to wipe up another tear that rolled down your cheek. “Please,” you said, looking at your boyfriend though he wouldn’t meet your gaze, “don’t— don’t think that I— it’s not my fault! I didn’t want this to happen!”

“Shh, you don’t have to lie anymore,” Jackson cooed at you, “we’ve all seen the truth now, it’s alright.”

You were exhausted, you were devastated, you were too overwhelmed to even feel terrified anymore; you dropped your head onto Jackson’s shoulder defeatedly. After all you’d been through tonight, you were starting to lose track of what was real anymore.

He let you cry quietly against him for a while, petting your head, until finally breaking the silence. “Now, the thing is, there’s actually just… one more thing I need you to do for me,” he admitted, and you started to cry harder again.

“Please— please, I did everything you asked,” you sputtered out through your tears, “you took. Everything. From me.”

“Hold on, that’s not true,” he frowned, “you’ve still got your cuck boyfriend over there, even if he’s not quite what he used to be— you still love him, don’t you? Can’t help that?”

“O-of course I do,” you insisted, feeling oddly guilty as you said it.

“So, you don’t want me to hurt him?”

Even if this was the end— even if he would hold what was done to you against you, which would break your heart— you couldn’t have that on your conscience. You shook your head.

“I didn’t think so,” Jackson nodded, “you’re too sweet for that. I won’t hurt him, and I’ll let him go, if you promise to do what I ask you to.”

“What more… what more could you possibly want…” you breathed, shaking your head, trying not to imagine what else there was for him to do to you.

“Something a lot less fun than what I wanted before,” he smirked. “What I need from you now is purely work-related.”

You wrinkled your brows together with a sniffle as you began to slowly compose yourself. “Work…?”

“Let me tell you a little bit more about what I do for a living…”

#jackson rippner x reader #jackson rippner smut #jackson rippner dark fic #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy smut #red eye fanfic

5K notes · View notes

virgoilluminati · 3 months ago

Note

can u please write a jude fic where your in a talking stage and he comes over and you both make out for the first time 🤭

It's been a long time coming...

A/N: this is my first request in absolutely ages so tysm you have made my day ✨❣️ As I am now unemployed (😜✌️) i have a lot of free time before i head back to university. So please if anyone has any ideas lmk 🥹

Inspo: Jude and You have been close friends since high school, but after one very drunken night, you admit your feelings for him, right before he leaves for the euro's. When Jude arrives home, he has only one goal, to give you that kiss that you've been waiting for.

Oh, you had royally fucked up.

So royally fucked up that you probably shouldn’t leave the house for at least the next two days, perhaps a week, even a month.

You’d told your best friend that you liked him, in a sweaty club, the night before he was going to the Euros. With the drink loosening your tongue, you blurted it out without thinking. The look on his face said it all; he was stunned into silence.

You and Jude had known each other since high school. He was in the year above you, but you both shared a huge interest in football. While he played for the boys’ squad, you played for the girls’. You got really close in the last year of high school as he began prepping for the under-21s football team while you were preparing for university. You became each other’s anchor, someone you both could rely on, no matter how tough it got. You told each other absolutely everything. So when you blurted out that you liked him, it was as if you had shattered an unspoken rule.

You had been drunk. That was the justification you were giving. You didn’t know what you were thinking; you couldn’t control what was going through your head. You couldn’t face him, not now. The memory of his expression replayed in your mind, a painful reminder.

You had sent him one text message, mentioning nothing about the incident, just wishing him luck in the Euros. Maybe he’d just forget it even happened. After all, he was pretty drunk too.

You had spent all morning preoccupying yourself with your uni work, taking the dog out for a walk, cleaning your room… basically anything to distract from the impending apocalypse. But it was pointless; every other second, you would check the blue tick on the message, with a simple “read” underneath it.

Hey, I hope the head isn’t too sore from last night ahaha. Best of luck in the Euros, I’ll be screaming your name at the local, love ya. (Read)

His response came about three hours later. In that time, you had gone through all five stages of grief. First, Denial: you denied that you even told him, that it was a huge mistake. Anger: you were angry that no one stopped you, as it was an open secret between all of your friends but him, but they had let you blurt it out. Bargaining: maybe it wouldn’t be so bad, you know. You could just say it was a mistake or you didn’t remember. Depression: this would be the end of your friendship—that he’d no longer look at you the same way ever again. Acceptance: your life was doomed, and that was the end of it. However, when his response came, you hadn’t actually prepared yourself.

Yeah, my head’s fine ahaha, though I think you drank more than me in the end. Currently on the way to the airport, Trent says hi. Pretty nervous about the Euros, I can’t lie.

You sat there staring at the three dots, wondering what else he was thinking. You cringed at him mentioning your drunkenness. He not only knew but he must’ve remembered. Oh god, this was going to be awkward.

You didn’t respond, noticing the frequent three dots on his screen going rapidly on and off. Sighing, you attempted to make a joke, quickly sending back a response.

I’m sure Trent is feeling it right now ahaha, how many shots did he have last night again? Don’t be nervous, you’ll be ace!

His reply came almost instantly.

Enough to need a new liver, I’m sure. Thanks for the vote of confidence. We’re about to board, talk later?

You couldn’t help but feel relieved. He wasn’t addressing your confession at all. Maybe he really had chosen to forget about it. Or perhaps he was giving you a way out, a chance to pretend it never happened. Either way, you seized the opportunity.

Sure, have a safe flight! Catch you later.

With that, you put your phone down and took a deep breath. Maybe this wouldn’t ruin everything after all. For now, you’d focus on the positives: Jude was still talking to you, and you still had your friendship, even if it was a little shaken.

The next couple of days were a whirlwind of activity. Jude was swamped with training and media commitments, so your interactions were mostly confined to texts. Despite the busyness, he made sure to check in frequently, sending you updates and little messages that kept the connection alive.

After the Slovakia game, which they won in a nail-biting finish, you received a call from Jude. You could hear the adrenaline in his voice, the excitement of the victory still fresh.

“Hey,” he said, a little breathless. “Did you see the game?”

“Of course I did! You were amazing! That last-minute goal!" you replied, unable to hide the pride in your voice.

“Thanks. It felt good out there tonight. The fans were crazy. Nearly thought we were goners—"

"Nah, I knew you'd pull through."

"Really?" His voice sounded hopeful, as if he had more to say, but instead, he coughed and continued talking. "Uh, listen, there is something I need to talk to you about.”

Your heart skipped a beat. “Okay, what’s up?”

“I haven’t stopped thinking about what you said."

"What I said? When?" you responded, your heart beating faster by the minute.

"The night before I went, about you liking me. I thought I could just put it aside and focus on the tournament, but… I can’t.”

You swallowed hard, your heart pounding in your chest. “Jude…”

“No, let me finish,” he interrupted gently. “I’ve been trying to figure out how I feel. And the truth is, I like you too."

Tears pricked at your eyes. “Really?”

“Yeah. I hope you don't mind, but I told Dec and Trent, and after they completely humbled me, they made me realize—I think I've always had a bit of a thing for you. It’s just… I don’t want to mess this up. I don’t want to lose what we have.”

“You won’t,” you said, your voice trembling slightly. “We’ll figure it out together. One step at a time.”

There was a moment of silence, then Jude let out a breath. “Okay. One step at a time. I like the sound of that.”

For the rest of the night, you talked about everything and nothing, letting the conversation flow naturally. The tension from the confession began to dissipate, replaced by a sense of hope and excitement.

The next game was against Switzerland, and you decided to go out to the pub to watch it with a couple of your pals. The place was buzzing with excitement, filled with fans donning jerseys and scarves, and the energy was infectious. As the match began, you found yourself nervously scanning the screen for Jude, your eyes automatically seeking him out every few seconds.

Your friends, of course, noticed.

“Honestly, if you stare any harder, you might burn a hole through the screen,” teased Sarah, nudging you playfully.

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the blush that crept up your cheeks. “I’m just… making sure he’s doing okay.”

“Sure, just making sure,” Mark chimed in with a grin. “We all know you’re head over heels.”

“Guys, can we please just focus on the game?” you said, though you couldn’t help but smile.

As the match progressed, every time Jude touched the ball, your heart seemed to leap into your throat. You could hear your friends’ comments in the background, teasing you about how intently you were watching him.

“There he is again, Y/N! Are you taking notes on his every move?” Sarah laughed.

“Come on, give her a break. She’s just a supportive friend,” Mark added, though his tone was dripping with sarcasm.

You tried to ignore them, but the truth was, they weren’t entirely wrong. You were more invested in Jude’s performance than anything else. When he made a particularly brilliant pass, you couldn’t help but cheer louder than anyone else.

“Wow, you’ve got it bad,” Sarah remarked, shaking her head in amusement.

The game was intense, with both teams playing aggressively. Jude was in top form, making crucial plays and demonstrating why he was such an asset to the team. As the game neared its end, with the score tied, the tension in the pub was palpable.

Just then, your phone buzzed with a message from Jude.

Jude: Gaffer gave us 5 minutes, couldn't wait any longer to not text you.

You: What are you doing?! You're supposed to be on the pitch.

Jude: I think this is going to penalties, I feel it.

You quickly typed back, trying to infuse your message with as much confidence as you could muster.

You: Don’t worry, you’ve got this. I believe in you.

There was a brief pause before his next message came through.

Jude: Listen, how about this: if we win, I’ll take you out on a date.

Your breath caught in your throat, and you stared at the screen, rereading his words. A date. With Jude. Your heart was racing now for an entirely different reason.

You: Deal.

The penalties were agonizing to watch. Each kick, each save, each miss, had the entire pub reacting in unison—groans of despair, cheers of relief, gasps of anticipation. You were barely breathing, your eyes fixed on the screen as if willing the ball into the net with sheer force of will.

Jude stepped up to take his shot. The pub fell silent. You could almost hear your own heartbeat. He took a deep breath, ran up, and kicked. The ball sailed past the goalkeeper and into the net. The pub erupted in cheers, and you jumped up, your shout of triumph mingling with everyone else’s.

The penalties continued, and finally, it came down to Trent. The pressure was immense. If he scored, England would win.

The pub fell silent again as Trent prepared for his shot. You could feel the tension in the air, your heart pounding louder than ever. He took his position, focused, ran up, and kicked. The ball flew towards the goal, past the goalkeeper, and hit the back of the net.

The pub exploded in cheers. People were hugging, high-fiving, and celebrating. You couldn’t believe it. They had done it.

Your phone buzzed again.

Jude: We did it! Can’t believe it. Guess I owe you that date ;)

You couldn’t stop smiling, your heart soaring with pride and excitement.

You: You were amazing! We're so proud!! I can't wait x

Jude: Trust me, I’m looking forward to it. See you soon, Y/N.

You spent the rest of the night celebrating with your friends, the victory and Jude’s promise keeping your spirits high. Amidst all the revelry, one thing was clear: your relationship with Jude was about to take a new and thrilling turn.

The next few days were a whirlwind of emotions and excitement. Jude’s team had just secured a 2-1 victory against the Netherlands. The pub you were in was filled with joyous celebration and raucous cheers. You knew Jude would be over the moon, and you couldn’t wait to hear from him.

Soon enough, your phone rang with an incoming call from Jude. You stepped outside, away from the pub’s noise, to answer.

“Hey, Jude!” you answered, your voice bright with excitement. “Congrats on the win!”

“Y/N!” Jude’s voice was noticeably slurred, and you could hear the background noise of a lively celebration. “I can’t believe we did it! We actually won!”

“I know, it was amazing!” you said, smiling. “You were incredible out there.”

“Thanks!” Jude’s words were slightly jumbled. “I’m just so… so buzzed right now! Remember when we were kids and we’d dream about moments like this? It’s really happening!”

“I know, it’s like a dream come true,” you said warmly.

“And you were always… so pretty, you know? I never really understood why you’d hang out with me,” he continued, his voice full of affection. “Everyone loved you, and I was just this goofy football guy.”

You felt a blush rising. “Jude, it didn’t matter. We had so much fun together.”

“Really?” he asked, sounding genuinely surprised. “I always thought… thought you were too good for me. I was just this guy with a big dream, and you were this amazing person who could have been anywhere.”

“Well, I was where I wanted to be,” you said softly. “With you.”

Jude’s voice grew more tender. “I’ve always admired you, Y/N. Even back then, I was captivated by you. The way you carried yourself, the way you looked—it was like you had this light that drew me in. I was always amazed by how stunning you were, both inside and out.”

You could hear Bukayo’s voice faintly in the background. “Jude, mate, turn the phone off. You're pissed-"

Jude chuckled, though his tone remained affectionate. “I can’t help it, Bukayo! Y/N, you have no idea how incredible you are. I mean, just thinking about you—how beautiful you looked back then and how stunning you still are—drives me crazy.”

You couldn’t help but smile at his words. “Jude, you’re making me blush.”

“I’m just speaking the truth,” he said earnestly. “You’ve always been this amazing person, and I’ve been lucky to have you as a friend and now… maybe something more.”

You felt a warm flutter in your chest. “I’m really glad we’re sharing these moments together. It means a lot to me.”

Jude’s voice grew more serious, though still a bit tipsy. “If we keep winning, I want to make sure we celebrate together. I can’t imagine doing it without you.”

“I’d love that,” you said, smiling. “For now, enjoy the celebration. You’ve earned it.”

Jude’s laughter was warm and content. “Alright, I’ll let you go. But I’ll call you again soon, okay?”

“Sure thing. Enjoy the rest of your night, Jude,” you said.

As you ended the call, you couldn’t help but smile. Jude’s heartfelt, tipsy confessions and the sound of his celebration had deepened your connection, making you realize just how much you both meant to each other. The future felt full of promise, and you were excited to see where this new chapter would lead.

When England lost 2-1 to Spain, the crushing disappointment was felt by everyone, especially Jude. As he and the team made their way back, he couldn't shake the feeling of defeat.

You, back home, had been anxiously awaiting any word from him. After a few hours, you decided to check in, hoping he was doing okay.

You: Hey Jude, are you alright? Just wanted to check in.

A few minutes later, your phone buzzed with a message from Jude. The text was brief, but the words were heavy with the weight of the loss.

Jude: Not great, honestly. It's been a rough night.

You felt a pang of sadness reading his message.

You could picture him, lost in thought, longing for comfort.

You: I'm so sorry, Jude. I wish I could be there with you too. You wanna hang out tomorrow? Watch a crappy horror movie and crash on my sofa?

The reply came back quickly.

Jude: Sure. I could use a little cheer up. I'd better go, journalists want a chat before we board.

You stared at the phone, hoping your words brought him some measure of comfort. You knew how much this loss meant to him, and how hard he had worked for this moment. The idea of him being alone in his thoughts broke your heart a little more.

You wanted to do something special for him, something that would show him just how much you cared. An idea started to form in your mind, and you sprang into action.

First, you pulled out his favorite hoodie from the closet. It was slightly oversized on you, but it felt like a warm hug. You wore it while you tidied up the apartment, making sure everything was perfect for when he got home.

Then, you went into the kitchen to start cooking his favorite meal. The process was therapeutic, each stir of the pot a way to channel your nervous energy. As the aromas filled the room, you felt a little more at peace, knowing that you were doing something to help him, even from afar.

As the hours ticked by, you kept checking your phone, hoping for any update on his flight. Finally, a message popped up.

Jude: Just landed. See you soon

Your heart skipped a beat. You quickly finished setting the table, dimming the lights to create a cozy atmosphere. You lit a few candles, their soft glow adding a touch of warmth to the room.

When you heard the key in the lock, you rushed to the door, your heart pounding with anticipation. As the door opened, there he was, looking exhausted but so incredibly relieved to see you.

Without a word, he dropped his bags and pulled you into a tight embrace. You held him close, feeling the tension slowly drain from his body as he buried his face in your neck.

"I missed you so much," he whispered, his voice cracking with emotion.

"I missed you too, Jude," you replied softly, running your fingers through his hair. "I'm so glad you're home."

He pulled back slightly to look at you, his eyes filled with gratitude. "You have no idea how much this means to me. Thank you."

You smiled, cupping his face in your hands. "Come on, I made your favorite dinner. Let's sit down and talk about everything."

Later on, after you had let him get everything off his chest, you decided to watch a movie, something that would probably become background noise. As the movie played, you and Jude sat side by side on the couch, the tension between you that seemed to dance in time with the flickering images. You could feel the heat of his body next to yours, and every time your arms or legs brushed, a jolt of electricity shot through you.

You glanced at him out of the corner of your eye.

He was staring at the screen, but you could tell his mind was elsewhere. The furrow in his brow, the way his jaw tightened, the constant fidgeting-he was still wrestling with the aftermath of the game.

You wished there was something you could do to ease his mind.

As if sensing your thoughts, he turned to you, his eyes softening. "I'm sorry I've been a grumpy sod."

You smiled, feeling a flutter in your chest. "No, don't be. I'm your friend!" You smirk a little as you made eye contact with him for the first time that night. "I'm just glad you're here."

The movie continued, but the air between you grew thicker with unspoken words and emotions.

"Listen. About what I said-"

"We don't have too-"

"No we should! Because, i know I've been swept up with all of the euro's but- I meant what i said. I like you."

"I like you too."

You could feel his gaze lingering on you more frequently, and each time you met his eyes, it was like a silent conversation passed between you.

"Do you remember the last time we watched a movie together?" he asked suddenly, breaking the silence.

You chuckled softly. "Yeah, you fell asleep halfway through."

He grinned, the first genuine smile you'd seen from him all night. "I was exhausted. You have a way of making me feel very relaxed. Always have done."

"It's a very good thing," he replied, his voice low.

You felt a shiver run down your spine at the intensity in his eyes. The movie, now a distant background noise, was all but forgotten. The distance between you seemed to shrink with each passing second.

"Jude..." you began, but the words caught in your throat. "I-." His eyes looked up and down at your lips as you settled into his embrace. He looks for any uncertainty before he continues.

"You make me feel seen. Like I can't hide anything from you. It's scary really-"

"Is that so-" you smile, your eyes casting over his lips.

"Mhmm. You make me such a good person-"

"Jude, just kiss me already." You laugh. He smiles instinctively,

He reached out, his fingers brushing lightly against your cheek. "Can I...?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

You nodded, unable to form a coherent response.

Your heart pounded in your chest as he leaned in, his breath warm against your skin. The world seemed to hold its breath as your lips finally met in a soft, tentative kiss.

It was like a spark igniting a fire, the kiss quickly deepening with a hunger that had been building all night. His hands found their way to your waist, pulling you closer as the kiss grew more intense.

You responded in kind, your fingers tangling in his hair as you pressed against him, the kiss growing more intense. His lips were insistent, exploring yours with a desperate need. You could feel his heartbeat against your chest, mirroring your own racing pulse.

Jude's hands roamed, tracing the curve of your back, sending shivers down your spine. Your skin felt electrified wherever he touched, each caress igniting a new wave of desire. You gasped as his lips left yours, trailing hot kisses down your neck, nibbling and sucking gently at the sensitive skin.

"Jude," you moaned softly, your fingers tightening in his hair. He groaned in response, the sound vibrating against your throat as he continued his exploration, his hands slipping under your shirt to caress the bare skin of your back.

Your breath hitched when his lips found the hollow of your collarbone, his tongue flicking out to taste your skin. You arched into him, your body responding instinctively to his touch. The heat between you was almost unbearable, a consuming fire that threatened to engulf you both.

When you finally broke apart, gasping for breath, you looked into his eyes and couldn't help but smile. "Do you know how long l've wanted to do that?" you whispered, your voice filled with a mix of relief and desire.

Jude chuckled, resting his forehead against yours.

"Probably as long as I have," he replied, his breath warm against your lips.

You both knew this was just the beginning, but for now, the world outside could wait. All that mattered was the two of you, tangled in each other's arms, finally giving in to the desire that had been simmering between you for so long.

#fanfiction #jude bellingham #leah williamson #womens world cup #england football #englandwomensfootball #womens football #football fanfic #jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham x you #judebellingham x footballreader #jude bellingham fanfic #judebellingham #Jude Bellingham fanfiction #euro 2024 #englandfootball #fanfic #footballer x reader #football imagine

458 notes · View notes

itsasilentreader · 1 month ago

Text

♬⋆.˚ 𝐈𝐭’𝐬 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐜 — 𝐇𝐚𝐧 𝐉𝐢𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐠

. ܁₊ ⊹ . ܁˖ . ܁. ܁₊ ⊹ . ܁˖ . ܁. ܁₊ ⊹ . ܁˖ . ܁. ܁₊ ⊹ . ܁˖ . ܁

𝙋𝙖𝙞𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜: bff!Jisung x fem!reader, friends to lovers

𝙂𝙚𝙣𝙧𝙚: smut, fluff — 𝙈𝘿𝙉𝙄 ⚠︎

𝙒𝙤𝙧𝙙𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩: 5.8K — 39 𝙢𝙞𝙣 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙 (whoops)

𝙏𝙒/𝘾𝙒: smut, p in v, oral (fem receiving), fingering, unprotected sex (wrap if before you tap it), creampie, Jisung calling reader princess, pretty and baby a lot, bad grammar and spelling as English is not my first language.

𝘼/𝙉: While I normally don't write smut, I had this idea in my head for a while now. I cringed when I wrote this and actually got the ick when I reread my work so I'm just gonna upload it without editing it. This one is for the people who als struggle with what I depicted in this fic. Hopefully, this gives y’all the representation that’s been lacking a bit in the fanfic community. Last note: i’m not accepting requests regarding smut right now. Might do it in the future, might write some fics with smut or I might not. We’ll see.

⤷ 𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘭 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘣𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘧𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘺𝘦𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘧𝘢𝘪𝘭𝘦𝘥 𝘥𝘢𝘵𝘦, 𝘸𝘩𝘰 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥𝘯'𝘵 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘶𝘮. 𝘛𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘴 𝘸𝘳𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘺𝘰𝘶, 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘣𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘧𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘥 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘳𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘱 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘰𝘶𝘵.

⋮ 𝗠𝗮𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗿𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁

. ܁₊ ⊹ . ܁˖ . ܁. ܁₊ ⊹ . ܁˖ . ܁. ܁₊ ⊹ . ܁˖ . ܁. ܁₊ ⊹ . ܁˖ . ܁

It was a typical Friday night. You were spending the night at your best friend’s house again, explaining a date gone wrong… again. Hey! It’s not your fault that those men can’t make a woman come or hold out longer than three minutes.

After your failed date on Thursday, you texted Jisung immediately after your date left your house. First, he responded, “Are you stupid?”, before explaining how dangerous it is to invite someone over after the first date, especially as a woman in these times.

I mean, he wasn’t wrong, but can you blame yourself? You just wanted to be satisfied by the hands - and other parts - of someone else for once. As much as your vibrators and other toys could please you, they didn’t always leave you satisfied.

And there lies your next problem: no matter how hard you try, you can’t come more than once per session. And you need time after a session, so for you to be busy for so long, it didn’t always give you the mind-blowing orgasms you’ve heard your girlfriends talk about.

It did make you feel a bit insecure, and you started to question if something was wrong with you.

How could it be that you always hear and read about other women having so many intense and mind-blowing orgasms, and you’re lucky if you even get one, one!

And now you’ve ended up on your best friend’s couch, sipping wine and gossiping about your bad date. And maybe you have bad taste in men in general. By now, this was a tradition for the two of you.

Almost every Friday evening, and sometimes night, was spent together. Most of the time, it was just the two of you, but sometimes some friends joined your wine night.

Decompressing after dates, good and bad, was something you’d always done with Jisung since you’d met.

You met Jisung in college. He walked into the classroom you were in, waiting for the lecture to start. Cute was the first thing that came to mind when you saw him with his messy hair and black glasses.

As the room didn’t have a lot of free seats left, Jisung decided to sit next to you. Smiling shyly, he introduced himself before getting his laptop out of his bag.

You introduced yourself as well, and that’s when the conversation slowly started. You learned that this was the first class he had without his other friends who followed the same course.

When the professor walked in and began his lesson, you heard Jisung curse under his breath. “Is everything okay?” You had asked, and concern was clearly shown on your face. He gulped before slowly closing his laptop.

“Eh, well—,” he started, his boba eyes looking at you. “This is not the professor I’m supposed to have for this class right now. So I’m thinking, just a wild guess, that I’m not in the right class.”

You clasped your hand over your mouth to stifle your giggles while shaking your head. “This is an intro to visual art and film,” you said as your giggles escaped. He let out a sigh and pursed his lips. “I’m supposed to be in the intro to musical arts…” Jisung trailed off as he tried to quietly pack his bag.

You watched him try to gather his things as quietly as he could before standing up. His whole body froze when he stood up, and the chair he sat in scraped against the floor like nails on a chalkboard.

The room fell silent as all eyes turned to the shy brunette boy with the black-framed glasses. From your seat, you saw a pink blush creeping up his neck and face.

“Is there a reason you’re interrupting my class?”, you heard your professor ask Jisung. He didn’t know what to do and remained frozen in his place.

Your hand covered your mouth again before giggling. Quickly, you whispered to him, “You need to walk out of the classroom now, or you need to sit down.” With his eyes locked on yours, he’d hung his head and sat back down, too embarrassed to move his legs and walk out of the room with all eyes on him.

Shaking your head with a smile, you turned your attention back to the professor. His eyes stayed on your neighbour for a few seconds longer before he continued his lesson. You’d decided to write little notes to Jisung in an attempt to get his mind off of the embarrassing position he was in earlier, and it worked.

During the lecture, you kept passing notes back and forth. Eventually, you wrote down your number, quite bashfully, with the words ‘in case you need a study buddy’.

Jisung took you up on that offer and your little study dates (though you wanted them to be real dates) turned into hang-out sessions, which turned into a beautiful friendship with your best friend.

Yes, you’ve wondered about Jisung. A lot. But you couldn’t blame yourself, he was gorgeous and one of the best people in your life. He was funny, and his personality lit up the whole room. He’d make you feel safe and loved, even if it was just platonic.

But, oh, how you wished it could be more. Hiding your feelings deep inside, locked away in your heart with the key thrown out, you’d continued to build this friendship with him. Having him in your life as your platonic best friend was better than not having him in your life at all.

That led you to this moment. Now, sitting on his couch, you tuck your feet under you. You take another sip — or rather, gulp — of your wine.

“I’m telling you, Ji, it was awful,” you let out as you took another sip. Setting your glass back down on the coffee table in front of you, you take out your phone to search for the message your date had left you.

“He finished in a few minutes and didn’t even bother to help me get off,” you said to Jisung. The latter one rolls his eyes at your statement before adding, “Men.” Giving him a knowing look, you continued.

“He luckily went home soon after, because I just couldn’t stand to be around him any longer,” you said again, frustration clear in your voice. You reach for your wine glass again and take another gulp.

“He messaged me later to say it wasn’t going to work out,” you add, rolling your eyes.

“I had a fun time, but I think it was just a one-time thing for us. We just weren’t vibing on the same level, and your sexual performance was not at the standard I am used to from my bed partners. I wish you all the best.”

At these words, Jisung’s eyebrows shoot up. “What?!” He exclaimed, almost spilling his wine out of surprise and, most of all, shock. “He actually said that?”

You nod vigorously before adding, “I know! As if it were my fault, he couldn’t get me off and lasted only a staggering four minutes.” At that, Jisung let out a snort before shaking his head.

“Maybe you just need to use some toys during sex; it does wonders,” Jisung speaks up after a minute. Your head snaps to his with a questioning look. “What? I do it often with my dates,” he shrugs at you before refilling his glass of wine and topping off yours as well.

“I mean, you don’t have to, of course, if you’re not comfortable with it. But in my personal experience, it feels really good.” Again, the questionable look is back on your face as you stare at him. Not trying to let your thoughts run wild about Jisung using sex toys on his partners or himself.

“Like, there is this magic wand, right? You know what that is, right?” He begins to ramble, you giggle softly and nod. Jisung continued, “Okay, so I know a lot of girls like to use that during masturbating, but also during sex. Maybe you should try that out.”

He wasn’t wrong. You have never tried it out during sex because either your partners didn’t want to try it with you, or you had a one-night stand, so you didn’t have your own toys at hand.

Maybe you should try it out sometime. Hopefully, your next bed partner will be open and willing to try with you.

“Okay, so since we’re already spilling the beans here, I mean, I’ve tried a magic wand on myself before,” Jisung spoke up, still sipping on his wine in between words, letting them sink into your mind. “Really?”

“Yeah, I bought one for myself after the first time trying it. Still use it sometimes,” his eyes back on yours, as if he was telling you the most normal thing in the world while your mind ran wild with the thoughts of Jisung pleasuring himself with a sex toy, as he gave you more information from these images in your head.

“Do you also feel it when you’re inside?” You couldn’t help but ask him, intrigued by the way he’s so casual about this. You feel yourself get a little bit aroused, thinking about using sex toys and your best friend telling you how you could use them.

He nods excitedly and says, “I do, I can’t speak for other men, but I love it. It’s a little bit of extra pleasure on top of the pleasure I’m already feeling.” You nod at his words, letting out a breath you didn’t know you were holding as the images of Jisung kept popping up in your head.

“So yes, I definitely recommend that. Maybe it’ll work for you, though.” He is gulping his wine now as he finishes his train of thought about using a magic wand on yourself. Because even though you think he’s so casual about it, Jisung is actually losing his mind.

Yes, you two are best friends, but still. He feels vulnerable with the information he had laid bare, not that you would make fun of him for it. Of course, you wouldn’t do that, ever. But it was a piece of information about himself he’d rather keep to himself.

Why does he have to have a big mouth that speaks before he thinks?

You giggle at the antics of your friend before sipping on your wine again. A comfortable silence falls over the two of you, the Spotify playlist softly playing in the background. The silence makes you fall back into the train of thought you had before coming over to Jisung’s place.

Maybe it was you that was the problem. You can’t come during sex, and even if you masturbate, you often fail to come more than once. It shouldn’t be that hard to do. Even with a sex toy, right?

Maybe you were broken after all.

Just like your ex had said. And the one before him too. Maybe it was your fault that you couldn’t do something so… so natural? Maybe-

“Hey, where did you go?” You feel Jisung nudge you with his hand. His movement made you snap out of your thoughts. “It’s just-,” you started, looking down at the almost empty glass in your hands.

“Maybe it is me that is the problem y’know. Almost nobody has ever made me cum, let alone cum during sex. Maybe it is me,” you whispered out to Jisung.

The words he heard he could not quite believe, hearing you blame yourself. He wants to let you know it’s okay, and that it works differently for everyone else, as all bodies are different.

Perhaps it is a bit more difficult for you to get that relief after building up pleasure, but it seems like you need someone who would be happy to help you with this journey of discovery. Someone like Jisung.

Jisung would be more than willing to help you, his beautiful best friend. From the moment you’d met, he harboured a small crush on you. It might have started as a small crush, but it grew into so much more. Even though he has all these feelings, it seemed like a romance wasn’t in the cards for you two the last few years.

So like the gentleman and good friend he is, he’d bottled up his feelings and continued to love you as a best friend up close and love you as an admirer from afar.

“It’s valid what you’re feeling about how your body works, but don’t think something is wrong with you,” he reassures you, his voice soft. Maybe it was the wine, or maybe it was just the opening Jisung was waiting for. His words stumble out before his brain can catch on to what is happening.

“I can help you, y’know,” Jisung offers you, his words make you almost choke on the sip of wine you just took. Spluttering your wine out in a not-so-charming way, you try to come up with an answer.

“I’m serious, Y/N,” he continued, setting down his own glass. He subtly scoots closer to you, his hands carefully reaching out to yours. His mind is working in overdrive while his heartbeat speeds up. This newfound adrenaline pushes him to act on the feelings he’s been keeping in for too long.

“Jisung, do you hear yourself? Why— why would you—", you stutter out. Your eyes are finding his, questioning him. His boba eyes just stared back at you and shrugged.

“You’ve been complaining about how no guy can ever satisfy you for so long. I’m just saying, I can help you out.”

Bewildered, you keep staring at your friend, questioning his motives. “And you think you can help me? Really?” You question him out loud. He tuts at your response, shaking his head lightly.

“I’m not trying to stroke my own ego here, really, but most of my bed partners have expressed that I know how to make a girl cum, hard.”

Again, you have thought about it before. Quite a few times, actually, your best friend was gorgeous. Despite the fact that you might not want it because he is still your best friend, it occasionally happens just like that.

Often it was already too late to stop your thoughts and your best friend was starring in your fantasy what helped you come, if it would happen.

“Look, I don’t want to pressure you into something you don’t want to do. I just want to help you out. There is absolutely nothing wrong with you, Y/N. You’re a catch, and everyone is lucky if only you give some of your attention to them. I want to make you realise that you are much more than a hook-up or a few dates.”

His words hang in the air, heavy and charged, but with a hint of excitement. You couldn’t deny the tension that was built up with just a simple statement from Jisung.

I can help you.

He sees your eyes glaze over with lust and his pulse quickens. The words are still swirling through your mind, but your eyes already tell him everything he needs to know. Still, he wants to hear you say it out loud.

“Do you want that too, princess?”

The pet name was rolling off his tongue so easily, that it made the butterflies in your stomach go crazy. It also made you wonder what else he could do with his mouth.

Your head already spinning at the thought of what he could possibly do to you, you nod shyly. “Yes, please.”

Scooting closer to you, The side of his body pressed against yours. Your chest rose and fell with rapid breaths. His hand comes up to your face, holding it carefully while searching your eyes for any doubts or signs of distress. “Please, Ji,” you plead. “Please kiss me.”

The sound of your sultry voice asking — begging him — to kiss you went straight to his dick. Lust clouds his mind, and if he wasn’t out of his mind before, he certainly is now.

With his hand still holding your face tenderly, he pulls you in for a soaring kiss. Feeling his lips on yours makes you dizzy, and lustful.

Your hands wander from his neck to his chest, and you feel the muscles under his black shirt that you love so much on him. His hands start to wander, too. First, you feel his hands skim over your breasts, grabbing the flesh as if his life depended on it. His hands wander further down towards your sweatpants.

With his fingers toying with the waistband of your sweatpants, you feel him move past it. With his hand in your sweatpants, he cups your heat over your panties. You let out a gasp against his mouth, before kissing him deeper than before.

Lightly pressing a finger against your clothed core, your body immediately reacts to his featherlight touch. “So responsive,” he purrs against your mouth, before giving you another soaring, open-mouthed kiss that makes you feel butterflies.

“Jisung, please,” you pleaded with him. “I love it when you beg for me, even though I haven’t really done anything to you yet.” In response to his words, you let out another gasp as he finally pulled your panties aside and dipped his fingers between your folds.

“Hm, so wet already, pretty girl?” He teases you with his words, and with his fingertips.

“I haven’t done anything besides kissing you, and you’re already this wet?” He teases you further. You huff out in frustration and wiggle in his embrace. Your hips bucked up to his hands, just to feel his fingers inside of you, or something — anything.

Capturing your lips in another hot kiss, his fingers finally slip fully into your pussy. He immediately gets to work, and he watches as you let out an erotic gasp. The urge to have his way with you became stronger as he felt you clench around his fingers and your eyes roll back. You clung to him as he pumped his fingers in and out, your slick spreading and making obscene noises along with your moans.

You feel your arousal dripping down as Jisung keeps his fingers working you open. “Fuck, Ji,” you cry out in pleasure. As you hold onto him, your back arches from the couch. Jisung pulls your mouth to his again, swallowing all those pretty, erotic noises coming from you.

“I can’t wait to be inside you, pretty girl,” he says, nipping at your mouth, and down to your neck. It felt like your skin was on fire, everywhere his mouth touched it. Blissed out, you look at him with half-lidded eyes. If him fingering you on his couch feels this amazing already, you couldn’t wait for how it would feel if he finally buries himself in your pussy.

“I really want to use a toy on you and your pretty pussy, show you how it can feel. Make you cum with it.” His vulgar words went straight to your wet core. Taking your bottom lip into your mouth, you bit on it, hard. Nodding your head in response to his words.

Jisung occasionally slips out his fingers to rub your clit. The alternation of feeling his fingers stretch you open and putting pressure on your clit made you whine out in arousal. The pleasure keeps building in your lower belly.

Up, up, up...

But still, not enough to have you see stars and give you that orgasm you’ve been thinking about since Jisung started talking about using sex toys.

Jisung sensing your frustration, slows down the pace of his fingers but still gives enough pressure to feel the pleasure of it. “It’s okay, princess. I’m gonna get you there, don’t worry about it, pretty.”

He slips out his fingers, and the loss of contact makes you whine. His eyes remain on yours as he brings his fingers to his lips and sucks them in. His eyes close as he feels the intoxicating, sweet, and tangy taste of your arousal on his tongue. Watching him, you moan at the erotic scene in front of you.

Sliding his fingers out of his mouth with a ‘pop’, he pulls you onto his lap. His eyes were on yours, filled with lust, but also something else you couldn’t decipher yet. His hands wander up your body, and he pulls you to his mouth. His lips capture you in a sweet and heavy kiss, and you taste yourself on his tongue.

Making out with him, still aroused, you start to grind your hips down onto his. His hands quickly grab your hips to help you set the pace, as your already wet and sticky panties become even wetter than before.

With your hands gliding through his hair, you grip it as if your life depended on it. And maybe it does feel that way at that moment because being so close and intimate with Jisung makes you feel tingly all over. It felt like you were floating, and even the slightest friction between your heat and his groin let pleasure ripple through your body.

His hands travel to the hem of your shirt and tug it over your head. Letting him help you out of your shirt, he throws it somewhere in the living room, not caring where it landed at this moment.

He’d ridden himself off his shirt, too, as his mouth was back on yours again. As you try to tug at the waistband of his sweatpants, he parts from your mouth. Heavy breathing is heard, and he softly pushes you off of him.

Feeling the need to hold you and touch your skin, he did so as he stood up from the couch. With his eyes on yours, he pulls down his sweatpants, leaving him in his boxers, the last a layer restraining his cock.

The outline of his cock already has you drooling. Knowing he’s skilled with his fingers makes you very excited to find out what he could do with his cock. And you will find out soon enough.

Lunging forward again to kiss you and hold you, he’d let you back to his bedroom. His hands pull down your sweatpants as you clumsily step out of them, holding onto his muscular shoulders.

Reaching his bedroom, he pushes the door open. Not wasting time, he gets you onto his bed seconds after stepping into the room. Lustful eyes bore into yours as his fingers teasingly pulled your panties down.

Disregarding your panties over his shoulders, he stares in awe at your body. Spreading your legs with his hands, he looks at your body as if you hung the moon and the stars. Getting flustered, you try to hide yourself from him, even though you have nothing to be ashamed or flustered about.

“Don’t hide pretty,” his voice dripping with sweetness and his mouth watering at the sight of your bare pussy in front of him. “Just one taste,” he murmurs before kissing your clit. He sticks his tongue out and flattened it against your wet hole, rolling back his eyes in pleasure.

Seeing Jisung lose himself and feeling his wet muscle against your aching pussy, pleasure shudders through your body. Your hands are gripping his hair, making him groan against your core. The vibration of his groan, together with him licking up all your arousal and eating you out like a starved man, makes your toes curl and your head dizzy.

The familiar pleasure of your orgasm creeps up again, but it still feels so far out of reach. Jisung kept licking and slurping at your aching pussy, and the feeling intensified, but it never seemed to finally snap.

Bucking your hips out of frustration up to his face, almost riding it, Jisung lets you take the lead. Honestly, he was just happy to be here. With his face between your legs, get used by the prettiest girl who has his whole heart, even if you don’t know it, yet.

Seemingly getting more frustrated by the second, as the tension was fading away and the pressure of your orgasm seemed to lessen, Jisung gave you one more lick before parting. He needs to help you get to your high, and show you that you can do it. And he also couldn’t wait any longer to be inside of you.

Wiping his mouth, he speaks up, “On your knees princess, let me take care of you.” He nods his head to turn around. With heavy eyelids and a lust-filled body, you get up and turn around. Jisung quickly turns to his dresser to get the toy he wants to try on you — the magic wand.

Before you can get on your hands and knees, Jisung’s hands softly push you forward. Your elbows catch your upper body as you feel the mattress dip behind you.

You feel his hands run up and down your body, while he leaves hot kisses all over your spine. He grabs at everything he can, your soft skin feels heavenly in his hands.

Then Jisung grabs his cock at the base and slides it between your wet folds. With his thumb, he spreads out the wetness around the head of his cock, before pumping himself a few times.

“I’m gonna make you feel so good, princess, make you see stars,” he says huskily, as he lines up his cock with your anticipating entrance.

As he eases his cock into you, a twinge of pain mixes with the overwhelming pleasure. With your eyes rolling back and your mouth agape, he begins to thrust his hips forward softly before bottoming out. “You good baby?”, he asks while his hands hold you softly. You nod and reply with a muffled hmm before Jisung picks up his pace and starts to pound into you.

The sound of skin slapping on skin mixed with your moans, and his groans fill up his room.

His hands roam over your body, from your ass to your shoulders. The touch of his fingertips makes you feel tingles and adds to the pleasure you already feel. You feel his hands push your shoulders down, so now you lay on the bed with your upper body. Your face is in his pillow, catching all your moans.

Pleasure shudders through your whole body as you feel Jisung filling you even deeper than before. His pace doesn’t falter once. With his hands back at your lower back, he pulls you back on his cock.

“Fuck,” he groans out. You turn your head so you can look over your shoulder, just enough to see Jisung throw his head back while biting his lip. His grip on your sides grows stronger as his thrusts become harder and harder. “You’re so fucking tight, princess.”

“Ji, please, please,” you moan out, your hands trying to grab anything they can to hold you steady. Twisting your upper body just enough so you could see him, you see him smirk. Leaning down to kiss his way up your shoulder blades, his right-hand grabs your hair. He pulls just hard enough to lift your head up from his pillow.

“I wanna hear those pretty moans when you come around my cock, princess,” he says, leaving another burning kiss on the back of your neck. “Turn your toy on and press it against your clit baby,” he says — or rather demanded.

Scrambling up on your elbows, his hips still meet yours with sharp thrusts. He doesn’t stop his brutal pace, instead, he keeps going. You gasp out at his thrusts, and you can barely grab the toy. Fiddling with it, you try to find the button to turn it on while pleasure is still soaring through your body.

Finally finding the button to turn it on, you press it and the toy comes to life. The vibrations are already making you feel jittery. You lean forward on his bed again, getting comfortable on your upper body. Your head to the side, while you took your lower lip between your teeth. With shaky hands, you carefully press the toy to your clit.

The feeling of the vibration mixed with Jisung’s cock filling you up just right made your eyes roll back, and your mouth hang open. Jisung never heard a more pornographic moan and couldn’t believe he was the one making you feel this way—with the help of the beloved magic wand.

It might be the alcohol, or maybe the love you’ve always felt for Jisung, but this is the best feeling you’ve ever felt. When he said he’d take care of you — he meant it.

His hands grip your ass as he keeps thrusting into you at a brutal pace. With furrowed eyebrows, you try to listen to your body. Yes, you feel immense pleasure from both being filled up and the vibrations on your clitoris, but you wonder if the feeling of your orgasm will build up anytime soon.

Jisung feels your body stiffen, just a tiny bit. But it was enough for him to notice you aren’t fully letting yourself go and enjoy the pleasure you feel. Slowing his pace down, it changed to sharper and deeper thrusts instead of just pounding.

“Let go, baby, just enjoy the feeling,” he gritted out. And you try, you let the bliss feeling overcome you. The dragging of his cock against your walls feels heavenly, as you focus on the vibrations the toy gave you.

Hearing his groans and feeling his soft hands gripping you so tight it might bruise the next day, you finally feel that familiar feeling building up.

“What do I need to do for you? Hm?” he huffs out, dragging your body back onto his cock. You moan out in satisfaction of the feeling. “How can I make my princess feel good, hm?” He grunts out, grabbing your hair at the back of your head and lifting your head again so he could bite and suck on your neck.

Your flushed face with your mouth hanging open, letting out little gasps of pleasure, imprints on his retina so that he will never forget this sight of you.

Jisung flooded all your senses. His touch, his mouth on your skin, and his hot breath in your ear grunt out your name over and over again, leaving you with goosebumps.

Grabbing the sheets with your free hand, so hard that your knuckles turned white, you moan out, “Just like that, baby.”

Rolling back your eyes and burying your face into his pillow, you feel yourself drool onto his pillowcase. The tension in your lower tummy is becoming stronger and stronger, and you feel your legs beginning to shake. “Jisung, oh god, please— right there.” Your breath hitched in your throat as you felt so close to the edge, and your orgasm was creeping up on you.

“Let go, pretty girl, come all over my cock. Make you feel so good.” keeping his brutal pace, your orgasm suddenly plummets through you. Shaking and mouth-agape, you moan out Jisung’s name like a mantra in a high-pitched moan.

The feeling of being so full with his cock and the vibrations of your toy intensified your orgasm, creating black spots in your vision.

You squeeze your eyes shut at the intense pleasure you feel throughout your whole body, as if ecstasy is running through your veins.

And all because Jisung suggested using a toy to stimulate your clit as he’d fuck you.

You feel like your prayers had been answered, and you finally had someone making you feel so fucking good, and that being Jisung made this experience even better.

Shit, you think. You might be in love with him.

Jisung fucks you through your intense orgasm. Feeling your walls convulse around his cock while he fucks you through your high, the vibrations bring him closer to his release, too. You’d let him use your body to chase after his own release, your walls clenching around his cock.

“Fuck, where do you want me to cum, baby?” He grits out as he keeps his pace. He had rather seen your beautiful face contort in pleasure when you were brought over the edge, but that would happen another time. After feeling you so tight around him, his body begged him for a release.

“Inside Ji, please come inside of me,” you slur out, still dazed from your orgasm. Fully relaxing your body, you feel Jisung thrust roughly into you a few times more, before groaning loudly in your ear. “Fuck-”, his chest rises and falls with heavy breaths as he comes down from his high.

You feel his hot mouth on your back again, leaving soft and gentle kisses while whispering how good you’ve been for him. He caresses your back as he softens and slips out of you. Falling on the mattress, he pulls you close to him, laying on your side. Draping your arm around his chest, you feel your erratic heartbeat calm down.

His release still dripping out of you between your legs, but he doesn’t care if his sheets get stained with it.

“How was that?” Jisung asks you as he presses a soft kiss on the top of your head. He is running his hands through your hair, and getting some of the lost, sticky strands of hair out of your face.

You let out a deep breath and look at him with sleepy, half-lidded eyes. “So good, so, so good, Ji.” At your words, a cocky smile appears on his lips. “I knew I could make you feel good pretty,” he answered as he gave you another kiss on your head.

“Thank you… For doing this,” you rest your head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat. “Always, baby, for you always.”

“If you want to try more things, I’m your guy! But preferably, I would be the only one you’d try them with?” Jisung whispers out the last part, causing your heartbeat, which had just finally become a normal pace after this intense high, to speed up again out of anticipation.

“I’d like that idea, only with you. If you would do those things only with me,” you reply softly, as you gaze up at him. His eyes are staring back at you, full of warmth, and this time you can see the love he holds for you in his eyes as well.

Nodding excitingly, Jisung leans forward to capture your lips once again in a sweet but tender kiss. Pulling away, he lets go of you and climbs out of his bed. Whining at the loss of contact, you pout at him. “Don’t worry, baby, I’ll get us cleaned up, and we can cuddle all night long.”

Snuggling back into his bed, you still need some time to process everything that had happened tonight. Who knew that ranting to your best friend about not being able to come during sex turned into the best sex of your life?

You finally feel satisfied. Not only did you finally come during sex, but you also finally have Jisung in more ways than you could ever imagine.

. ܁₊ ⊹ . ܁˖ . ܁. ܁₊ ⊹ . ܁˖ . ܁. ܁₊ ⊹ . ܁˖ . ܁. ܁₊ ⊹ . ܁˖ . ܁

Ⓒ︎ 𝗶𝘁𝘀𝗮𝘀𝗶𝗹𝗲𝗻𝘁𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿. 𝘈𝘭𝘭 𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘴 𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘦𝘳𝘷𝘦𝘥. 𝗗𝗼 𝗻𝗼𝘁 𝘳𝘦𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘰𝘳 𝘮𝘰𝘥𝘪𝘧𝘺 𝘮𝘺 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘬 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘦𝘯𝘵.

358 notes · View notes

daddyy333 · 2 years ago

Text

Needy | Eddie Munson x y/n

if you’d like you can reblog my original work, but please don’t post it without credit. if you take inspiration from my ideas please tag me, I’d like to see how someone else would write it

word count: 2.6k

summary: Eddie has never given it all to you because he doesn’t want to hurt you, but you refuse to wait any longer. You want all of him and you want him now.

warnings: smut, p in v, oral (I think), squirting, overstimulation, ?

sorry this has taken so long I don’t know writing hasn’t exactly been my top priority because I’ve got a lot going on but I’m still writing as often as I can so new fics are gonna be slow but I promise I’ll be back to posting like I used to soon

The first time you saw Eddie’s dick, you were honestly worried. One, how the hell does he find pants and underwear big enough to fit that thing. Two, how were you ever gonna get it inside you.

He knew that look. A lot of girls wore the same look when they saw him for the first time. He didn’t understand it really, he knew he was a little blessed but he thought he was just a little above average.

So naturally, he went down on you and fingered you till you came 3 times to make sure you were relaxed and wet enough for him to stretch you out. You’d honestly never felt anything as good as Eddie’s cock, and ever since then you’d been obsessed with it.

You’d be calling every night begging him to come over, or to come pick you up just so you could feel him deep in you, feel that overwhelming stretch that felt better than anything you had ever felt before. He didn’t mind too much, he found it adorable how needy you’d get, whining about how much you need to have him inside you.

You almost always got what you wanted, but not entirely. He never sunk all the way in. Majority of the time he was on top, and even when you were on top he’d still be holding you still while fucked up into you. He didn’t want you to sink all the way down and hurt yourself, he knew he was thicker at the base and he didn't want you to go too far.

You had begged and begged him to let you try and see if you could take it, but he would never let you. No matter how hard you begged or how much you tried to force yourself lower, he always managed to stop you.

But tonight, oh you were getting what you wanted. You’d been the horniest you’ve ever been in your life the entire day, feeling your slick stick to your inner thighs whilst you worked and noticing a wet patch on your seat when you got out of the car, you knew you needed him and you needed all of him.

��Ed’s, put the book down” you said as you came in, throwing your bag on the dresser and unbuttoning your work shirt. Holy shit did he hate that shirt, he hated it because it was so provocative and they always gave everyone a size smaller so they would attract customers with their “attractive waitresses.”

But right now, oh god you looked sexier than ever. Your hair was a little disheveled, your makeup making your eyes look darker and even more attractive. He wanted to devour you and make you cum till you couldn’t think anymore.

You worked your shirt off, stepping closer to him as you unbutton your shorts. You got to the edge of the bed and kicked your shoes off before slipping your shorts off as well. He grinned at you as you climbed on top of him, resting your hands on his ribs as you leaned down and kissed him.

“Mm, baby” he groaned through the kiss, his voice low and raspy making your pussy clench around nothing. You moved your hands to his chest, grinding down on his half hard cock. He moaned softly into the kiss, his hands gripping your waist hard.

You lightly tugged at the bottom of his shirt and he pulled away, nodding at you. You got his shirt off and he smiled up at you, toying with the straps of your thong. You bit your lip and he sat up, running his thumb along your bra strap.

You reached behind you and unclipped your bra, letting him slide it off of you. “God, you’re so fucking perfect” he said and scoffed, burying his head between your breasts. Kissing, licking, sucking, he was all over your boobs for a good few minutes.

Once he seemed to finally move on, you got off the bed and said “take off your pants and boxers…please,” He shook his head and complied, groaning when you took your panties off and he saw your bare cunt, slick spreading on your inner thighs.

You whimpered softly as his huge cock sprung out, leaking precum as he hissed, jerking himself off for a little relief. You smiled and crawled on top of him again, running your hands up and down his chest and stomach, watching his cock jump as you felt his thighs up a little.

“Baby please…I need you. It hurts…” he said and you giggled. You bit your lip and lined yourself up with him, sliding down a little and stretching yourself. He sighed relievingly and squeezed your tit in one hand, the other keeping a firm grip on your hip as he moaned at the feel of your tight, warm, and wet pussy on his sensitive tip.

“Go slow, babe. D-Don’t hurt yourself” he grunted out, he’d kill to pound into you till the sun rose but he never expressed it, because he would never risk hurting you. You groaned and started bouncing on him, not going all the way just yet.

He moved a hand to rub at your swollen clit, moaning loudly as your pussy sucked his cock in over and over again. “Baby…fuck, I love this pussy” he said and you smiled.

You grabbed his hands, forcing him to lie on his back slightly and held his hands as you continued bouncing on his cock. He grunted, abs tensing slightly as the pleasure consumed him. Perfect, just what you wanted.

You smirked, kissing down his jawline and neck. Once he was plenty distracted you sat up, his arms still above his head squeezing the pillow now to ground himself. You placed your hands on his chest and bit your lip, quickly sliding all the way down till your clit touched his little patch of pubic hair.

You gasped, moaning loud as your pussy stretched around him, feeling so so full you couldn’t believe it. “Babe!” Eddie shouted and grunted, shuddering as his cock throbbed. Your brows furrowed, jaw dropped as you moaned like crazy.

“Eddie…oh- oh I can barely take it- y- y-your so big- Eddieee!” You moaned, digging your nails into his chest. He breathed a little heavy as he wrapped his arms around your back, kissing you gently.

“Holy shit, you’re so perfect!” He said and you whimpered. You lifted yourself up and slammed back down, nearly knocking the wind out of yourself. He was so deep, and so thick you could already feel yourself getting close.

You only bounced a few more times before you were cumming hard, screaming Eddie’s name and squeezing his cock so good he couldn’t even think straight. “Haggh! Good girl…yea, cum so f-fast on daddy’s cock” he said and you cried his name, whimpering as your orgasmed continued to hit you in waves, your clit twitching hard as your pussy spasmed around his dick

“I- Uhh! Eddie! It’s too much- it- ahhh!” You moaned, tears streaming down your face from overstimulation. He gently pulled you off and you panted heavily, resting against his chest. “Eddie…” you giggled and he hummed, caressing your hair.

He was a little upset at you for doing it without warning and pushing yourself too far, or so he thought. “Need it again…please?” You begged and he furrowed his brows. He sighed and said “it was too much for you”

“No, I want it again” you said and looked up at him, straddling his lap. He kissed you softly and said “you just calmed down from the first one, baby you need to relax for a second” “Ed’s…” you whined, pawing at his chest.

He rolled his eyes and said “turn around then,” You smiled and turned around so your ass was facing him and he sat up, getting ready for you to sink down on his cock. He kissed your neck a few times and said “come on, babe, let me feel that pussy again,”

“Thought you wante-” “shut up,” he whispered as he pushed you down on his dick, making you whimper. You let out a strangled moan, your thighs tensing slightly as you got used to the feeling again.

You took all of him, whimpering and writhing on his fat cock. He grunted and squeezed your hips, biting your shoulder slightly. You groaned and started to bounce, holding one of his hands and reaching behind you to pull at his hair with the other and keeping him buried in your neck, just where he liked.

“Fuck! It’s so good- it’s so good!” You babbled mindlessly. He grunted and chuckled, palming your ass. You were so fucking sensitive, you didn’t know if you were gonna be able to get him there before you came again.

He smiled as he watched you bounce on his cock, face twisted in pleasure as you pulled at his hair and squeezed his hair. He grunted and said “could watch you ride me all day, gorgeous…”

You mewled at that, groaning harshly when he started to fuck into you slightly, feeling like the wind was being knocked out of you. He smiled and ran a hand over to your front, pushing down on the bulge of his cock in your lower tummy. You gasped and looked down, moans growing louder at the realization of how big he was and how deep you were taking him.

You whined, crying out as you started to clench hard around him. He groaned and bucked his hips harder, wanting to cum with you. You gasped as your legs shook, a sob racking your body. You didn’t know what he was doing to you, you were cumming so easily and so hard you couldn’t handle it.

“Fuck, babe…so sensitive,” he said, rubbing your clit. You nearly screamed, your pussy clenching so hard as you squirted all over him. Your whole body was shaking, your breathing all kinds of messed up and your moans and whines flowing out freely.

Your mind felt fuzzy after you finally stopped, nearly slumping over if not for Eddie holding you. He got you off his dick, laying you next to him as you panted hard, clinging to him. “Fuck,” he groaned, looking down at his angrily red cock. He needed to cum so bad, and he knew you didn't mean to but fuck he was really worked up.

“I’m sorry- I’m sorry, I’m sorry” you started to apologize and he shushed you, kissing your head and holding you close to him. He smiled and said “it’s alright, princess. I know, I know, you just can’t handle me, hmm? Too big for my little princess”

You mewled, peppering kisses on his jawline as slick gushed from your pussy again. You were so tired and sore but you wanted to make him cum and you’d do anything to get him there.

“Ed’s…” you whimpered, grabbing his hip. He shook his head and said “babe, uh uh, you’re gonna overdo it. I’m good, I’ll take care of it” “no, no Eddie….please” you said and he sighed.

“One more,” he said and you nodded, biting your lip. He kissed you softly, swallowing the moans you let out when he cupped your pussy, playing with the stickiness between your folds and toying with your clit.

“So wet, baby,” he said, jerking himself off a little to get him somewhere. You gasped softly, your breathing shaky and irregular. He grunted and you mewled as you watched him fist his cock, the tip reaching above your belly button.

“I want it Eddie,” you whined quietly, looking up at him with pinched brows. He cursed at how adorable you looked, getting into missionary so he could see your pretty face while you came around his cock.

“Yea? What do you want, baby? Tell me,” he said and your breath hitched as his mushroom tip circled your clit. You whined and said “I…I want your cock, I want all of it! I want your cum inside me, please!”

“Shhh, pretty girl. I’m gonna give it to you real good, don't you worry” he said and kissed you softly, sliding himself in and thrusting at a good pace. Not too slow, not too fast, just enough to let you adjust to the feeling.

“Awh, so fucking tight…” he grunted and you whimpered. You squeezed his shoulders, nails digging in his skin. You furrowed your eyebrows, moaning Eddie’s name and squirming as he began to drill his cock into you.

He grunted, sucking your tits into his mouth, tongue swirling around your nipple. God, he was a slut for your tits. Whining into your boobs, he sped up his pace as much as he could.

“Mmh…Ed- E-Eddie!” You moaned and he grunted, panting softly as his eyes squeezed shut. He thrusted hair, your pussy swallowing his dick and making him see stars. “fuck…” he whispered, squeezing the sheets beside you.

You whimpered, hands tangled in his hair as your pussy fluttered around his cock. “Shit- shit uhh…oh god, I’m close!” You moaned and he moaned into your ear, your pussy squeezing him deliciously.

“I’m almost there baby….agh! Almost there!” He said and kissed your neck a few times, squeezing your arm slightly as he tried to keep the same angle that was making his dick throb so hard he thought it might fall off.

“I can’t….ahh! Don’t stop, don’t stop till- shit- till you…fuck!” You cried out as you squirted around him again, you were so sensitive but you needed him to cum at least once. He rubbed your clit, making your eyes roll back as your legs shook hard, stomach clenching as he thrusted as fast as he could until he finally exploded in you.

He nearly screamed as he came, burying his cock deep inside you, grunting and panting as he came endlessly. “Y/n- fuuuck! It’s too good- it’s too- ughhh!” He groaned, pumping his cock into you a few more times as his cock throbbed inside you.

“Baby…hey, hey look at me,” he said and caressed your face. Your eyes fluttered open as you whimpered, looking up at him. “Hurts…” you whimpered. He kissed your head and said “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. Fuck, I knew I should’ve stopped I’m sorry. Why didn’t you use your safe word, huh?” “Just wanted to make you cum…” you muttered tiredly.

He sighed and started to pull out and you winced, pulling at his hair. “Ahh- babe! You know it’ll be okay once I’m out. Just relax,” he said and you sniffled. You curled over on your side once he pulled out, panting slightly.

Eddie grunted and stood up, collecting himself as he quickly realized that was not just any orgasm. He groaned and grabbed a towel to clean himself off. He winced, his dick super sensitive from the most amazing sex you two have ever had.

He put on clean underwear and made his way to the side you were facing, brushing your hair out of your face. “You don’t have to do anything, you know? We don’t have to finish with each other, I don’t have to finish inside you, none of that. I only want you to feel good” he said and kissed your head a few times.

You moved to lay on your back and sighed as the exhaustion took over. “What about you though?” You asked, playing with his hair. He chuckled and said “I always feel good with you baby”

You rolled your eyes and he chuckled, wearing stupid boyish grin. He smoothed your hair back and kissed you softly, humming into the kiss. “You’re perfect, you know that?” He said and you blushed, looking away.

Taglist: @readsalot73 @hellfire1986baby

As of now l'm writing for

Eddie Munson

Lo’ak

Neteyam

So just comment the taglist you want to be added to and l'll add you :)

#stranger things #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson stranger things #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fanfic

3K notes · View notes

seoulmatez · 10 months ago

Text

— 𝓂𝒾𝓃𝑒, 𝒶𝓁𝓁 𝓂𝒾𝓃𝑒 ౨ৎ

okkotsu yuta x f!reader. 2.9k wc. ﾉ nsfw (mdni) ﾉ characters aged 21+ ﾉ step-brother!yuta ﾉ stepcest ﾉ college au ﾉ jealousy ﾉ possessiveness ﾉ yuta is insecure ﾉ marking (hickies & biting)

this is a continuation of my other stepbro!yuta fic, misplaced lust. that offers some background to this fic but this can also be read as a standalone!

a month has passed since you and yuta shared that fateful night in your living room, since you’ve started seeing him as someone other than your step brother—though, you still haven’t quite settled on what to call him. yuta would insist on “boyfriend” but the word feels heavy and sticky in your mouth, like you can’t really get it out any time you try. you suppose you’re still getting acquainted with the idea of yuta as a lover rather than a brother.

all you can say for sure is that things are different.

your standing as simply siblings is the image you keep up in public, much due to your persistence, though, behind closed doors, it’s a different story. gone are the days when yuta kept his urges buried. he touches you when he pleases—stealing the sweetness of your lips in morning kisses, holding you hostage in midday cuddles, exploring each and every curve of your body as you writhe and pant beneath him at night.

it’s taken some getting used to but you’ve fallen into some sort of strange routine with him. the life you’re living is far from ordinary, though, you’re pleased with it.

tuesdays—you have class on campus and, as much as you’ve told him that it isn’t necessary, yuta practically begged you to let him take on the task of taking you to and from your classes. you’re sure he’s parked in the lot across from your building now, but you’ll have to keep him waiting a while longer so that you can exchange contact information with your new project partner.

“just sent you a text,” the boy tucks his phone away in his pocket, “did you get it?”

as if he willed it himself, your phone dings with a message notification. it’s from an unknown number but you infer that the sweet “hi! :)” is from him. you wave your screen at him with a smile and a nod before quickly saving him to your contacts.

“i’ll text you when i get home, yeah?” you look to your partner, eyebrows raised in question.

“sounds good to me.”

“great.” you offer him a wave before setting off to the crowd of cars in search of yuta’s.

it doesn’t take you long to find it, or him for that matter. he’s standing outside the vehicle at the hood, arms crossed and eyebrows pulled together in confusion. the sight leaves you puzzled yourself as you approach him. he usually meets you with a smile. it’s strange to not see the corners of his lips pulling up.

“hey, what’s wrong?” you question. if you were in the privacy of either of your apartments, you’d reach out to smooth out the crease between his brows.

yuta reaches for you, large hands coming to rest on your hips before he pulls you closer. you frown and shake your head in a silent reminder that people are watching—people who shouldn’t see you in such a position. much to yuta’s dismay, you knock his arms away and take a step back. your action seems to upset him further. “who was that guy?”

you fight the urge to roll your eyes at his question. if you thought his investment in your relationships before you hooked up was concerning, then the tabs he keeps on you now border overbearing. you can’t talk to a guy within his line of sight without being questioned about it afterward.

“he’s just a classmate,” you reassure him with a sigh.

your disinterest in the conversation does nothing to ease yuta’s nerves. a piece of him knows that his jealousy may be unwarranted, but, to be fair, you’ve never gone as far as sharing contact information with another guy—and right in front of him, at that. “a classmate that needs your phone number?”

“yes,” you swear you see his frown deepen with your answer, “but only because we’re working on a project together.”

yuta trusts you, he does, but knowing that you’ll be working closely with a guy he’s unfamiliar with leaves a sour taste in his mouth. he’s well aware of how the minds of men work and who’s to say this one won’t make a move on you?

though, as he looks into the depths of your eyes, yuta reminds himself that it’s you. you wouldn’t let things escalate that far, you wouldn’t betray his trust—right?

large hands come up to cradle your face, thumbs brushing over each of your cheekbones. midnight eyes bore into yours as he asks, “you promise?”

your heart jumps in your chest—at the feel of his rough palms on your face or the unexpected question, you’re not sure. the intensity behind his lidded gaze almost makes you forget where you are, that he’s not supposed to be touching you like this here, where anyone can see. you take hold of his wrists, pulling his hands down from your face, opting to hold them between your bodies to keep them hidden.

“i promise,” you tell him, voice low so that only the two of you can hear.

the warmth of your hands and the softness of your voice relieve all the tension that’s built up in yuta since he was met with that unsavory sight. he squeezes your hand, lips pulling up into a soft smile.

he knew he could trust you.

life with yuta is as normal as it can be outside of your interactions with your poor classmate. the boy really hasn’t done anything wrong but he still unknowingly bears the brunt of yuta’s irritation and resentment. a simple text from him informing you that he added content to the document and would appreciate you looking it over earns a grimace from yuta if you take too long replying to him.

so, you suppose you shouldn’t be surprised when your phone vibrates with a notification—no, two notifications from yuta during your library meeting with your acquaintance. you hope it’s not rude to shift your attention to your phone for a moment. two messages one after the next implies urgency.

> where are you?

> you said you’d be back by 6

so much for urgent. you click the button on the side of the device to put your screen to sleep, not bothering to reply. you’re sure you’ll be wrapping things up here soon and the process will go even quicker if you don’t break to text him back. you make a mental reminder to respond to him as soon as you’re done, flipping the phone so the screen is facing down on the table.

you’re barely able to get another paragraph typed out before your phone is buzzing again, not with a notification but with a phone call. despite not being able to see the caller display, you have an idea of who it is.

“i’m sorry,” you apologize to the man across from you, grabbing your phone off the table. “you don’t mind if i take this, do you? i’ll make it quick.”

he waves his hands in a show of nonchalance. “no, no, go ahead.”

you offer him an apologetic smile before stepping out of the room you two reserved to dedicate some time to your project. when you hear the click of the door announce that it’s closed, you press the accept button on the call.

“hello?”

“where are you?” there’s mild panic laced in his voice as he continues. “you didn’t reply to my texts.”

you should have seen this coming. he isn’t always like this—so obsessive over your whereabouts, but you think you have an inkling of what’s got him so on edge and he’s sitting in the room you just left. “yuta, i’m still at the library. we’re almost done.”

hearing your voice is like an anchor for yuta, keeping him grounded from his unwelcome, wandering thoughts. he tried not to worry when the clock hit six and you weren’t walking through the door, briefly thinking that you got caught in traffic or some other minor inconvenience that kept you a few minutes.

though, as more time passed, the hypotheticals turned to something less innocent—ones that centered around you and him and the sorts of things you could get up to in a room with just the two of you. it made yuta’s head and heart hurt in a way he’s never experienced before but the pain is beginning to subside now that he’s heard from you.

he’s tempted to ask about what’s keeping you but for his own sanity, he buries the question, choosing instead to tell you, “i was just checking in.”

“everything’s fine.” you nod despite him not being able to see.

you hate when he gets like this, stressing himself out over nothing, letting nonexistent things eat away at his mind. but, in the same breath, you love being the one to bring him back to earth, the one he finds solace in. maybe that’s why your voice softens with your next words. “i’ll be home soon.”

there’s a shaky sigh of relief on the other line, one you’re almost sure wasn’t meant to be audible.

“good.”

the final straw comes a couple of weeks later when yuta’s outside your door, fishing around his pocket for the key you’d given him when you moved in. though, before he’s able to find it, the door swings open.

he expects to be met with the sight of you in your loungewear—shorts that ride up your thighs and a shirt that leaves a sliver of skin on your tummy exposed—but the person standing before him is the last person he wants to see, especially in your foyer.

it’s your project partner.

yuta’s eyebrow twitches as he looks at the man, silently wondering just what the hell he’s doing inside your apartment. he’s got a comfortable grin on his face that slowly falls as he turns away from you to find yuta standing in the hall. there’s confusion written over his features and if yuta wasn’t so annoyed, he’d laugh—he’s the one who should be confused.

“hey, man,” your classmate greets yuta cautiously before turning to you. “you know this guy?”

the question seems to be enough for you to finally recognize yuta’s presence. you don’t smile and hug him like you usually do when he shows up at your place. no, instead, your eyes widen like he’s the unwelcome one.

yuta’s skin warms with his boiling blood as his dark gaze flits over to meet that of your guest. “i’m her b-“

“brother!” you cut him off. with the look in his eyes, you couldn’t be sure he wasn’t going to say another word that started with the same letter. “he’s my step brother.”

“oh,” the man nods, “nice to meet you.”

yuta musters up as friendly of a smile as he can. if you didn’t know him as well as you do, it would have simply looked like he was caught off guard meeting a new face. and while that’s partially true, you can tell that the smile is forced—that his teeth are really clenched behind his lips and that the sentiment is not shared.

your classmate turns back to you, not taking notice—or, at least, choosing not to acknowledge—the thick awkwardness in the air. “well, i’m heading out. see you in class.”

you give him a wave as he slips out the door past yuta, whose sole attention is now on you.

it doesn’t take a genius to tell what’s on his mind.

“yuta…” your voice usually has a calming effect on the man but it doesn’t seem to work this time around as he slips into your apartment, fingers running through the messy strands of inky hair.

“what was he doing here?” there’s an edge to his tone as the question fills the air—one that’s a mixture of anxiety and possessiveness, something different than what you’ve heard over the past few weeks.

you close the door before facing yuta. the darkness in his eyes from earlier lingers but the anger has dissipated, replaced by uncertainty. the latter is just as chilling.

something tells you that your explanation, no matter how truthful, won’t get through to him—not when he’s so worked up. still, you try to make it clear that nothing was going on between the two of you. you reach out to take his hand in yours so that he stops tugging at his hair. “we were going over our presentation, that’s all.”

the stare he meets you with is heavy, almost intimidating. “you had to bring him home to do that?”

“i didn’t feel like driving to campus so i had him meet me here.” you can see yuta’s jaw clench at your justification. you drop his hand in favor of placing yours on his face. his skin is warm beneath your hands and your fingers graze over the curves of his cheekbones and jaw. he softens under your touch, though the insecurity sticks to his expression. you hope your next words are reassuring. “but nothing happened—i swear.”

there’s an honest glint sparkling in your eyes and a softness to your gaze that convinces yuta that you wouldn’t lie to him—not about this, not about anything. with a deep breath, yuta’s hands come to rest on either side of your waist and he nods—more to himself than anything.

he dips his head down, capturing your lips in a heated kiss. it’s eager and greedy, like if he doesn’t do it now, he won’t ever be able to. his tongue runs over your lips, swirls in a dance with yours as he breathes in your air and scent. it’s dizzying and your head is spinning even when he pulls away.

his nips at your lip, nose pressed against yours. “you’re mine, right?”

you nod, parted lips glistening with yuta’s spit.

“then show me.”

the journey to your room is clumsy, kisses interrupted by clothes being strewn about the hallway. though, when you do finally make it to your bedroom, your back meeting the mattress, yuta wastes no time letting his lips roam all over your body. he sucks and nips at your delicate skin, leaving dark marks of his love on your neck, your collarbone, your chest.

the simple sensation draws a melody of moans from you that reaches yuta’s ears, swelling his heart and his cock. he groans—the erection between his legs is almost painful and he finds relief in grinding the head up and down your folds, letting it bump against your clit. the contact elicits a sharp gasp from you and the sound only feeds yuta’s arousal.

he can’t hold himself back any longer.

sinking into you feels like the closest yuta will ever get to paradise. he fights his eyes from rolling back, stops himself from drooling, as he bottoms out in a practiced motion. he usually gives you a moment to adjust around him but he’s far too worked up to allow you the courtesy this time around, almost immediately setting a tempo with his thrusts.

the sound of skin slapping skin as his hips snap into you accompanied by the squelching of your wetness fills the still, thick air of your bedroom. yuta’s choked groans join them and he lets his head fall to rest at the crook of your neck.

his tongue pokes out to lick at your skin, lips latching on to leave yet another purpling spot behind—a sign of his love, a sign that you're his.

the thought causes yuta to bite down on the side of your neck, not hard enough to break the skin but enough to leave an indent of his teeth. he raises his head to meet your eye, labored breaths tickling your face as he hovers above you. he swallows before pressing his forehead to yours, hips still bucking into you.

“you’re mine,” he breathes out, nails digging into the sheets on either side of you.

you can’t tell whether it’s a question or a statement but you nod the best you can regardless of which it is.

his dark eyes bore into yours, a mixture of passion and possessiveness swimming in his gaze. “say it.”

it takes a moment for you to find your voice and even when you do, your declaration cracks. “i’m yours, yuta.”

“that’s right,” he dips his head down to kiss you, smiling against your lips before pulling away, “all mine.”

yuta’s hand finds its way between your bodies and to your clit, rubbing circles against the sensitive bud and drawing heavenly whimpers from you. he starts to lose the rhythmic pace he set as his climax creeps upon him, each thrust growing more and more erratic. a fire sparks to life in your abdomen with the added sensation and you can feel the heat seeping beneath your skin, penetrating your nerves. every part of you is on fire.

the stimulation is soon too much for you, pushing you over the edge and into the deep end of pleasure. the sharp breath you suck in is followed by shaky moans as you ride out your orgasm. with all the pretty noises you’re making and the way your cunt flutters around him, yuta follows not far behind you.

he pulls out before his seed can spill inside you, the warm white ropes of cum spurting on your belly instead. his own moans mingle with yours as he comes down from his high, chest rising and falling with each of his heavy breaths.

his eyes flit up to yours, hand reaching out to caress the side of your face. you lean into his touch instinctively which makes his lips curl up in a smile. you wouldn’t do this for anyone else, would you?

you really are his.

thanks you for reading! if you enjoyed, please reblog or leave a comment! ᡣ𐭩

#₊˚ପ⊹ signed: jujutsu kaisen #yuta x reader #yuuta x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen x you #yuta smut #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk drabbles #jujutsu kaisen drabbles #cw stepcest #𐙚 after hours

662 notes · View notes

darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 4 months ago

Text

Someone New 2

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include angst, pining, romcom tropes, and some darker elements later in the series. Some triggers may not be specifically tagged. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This fic will contain explicit content. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You’ve had a crush on your best friend for years, but you’re slapped in the face with reality when he takes things to the next level with his girlfriend.

Characters: Steve Rogers, Thor

Note: Idk why but I'm so over dealing with people!

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

You swipe away another phone call. You have at least a dozen missed. Let them buzz in your pocket for another few hours. You try not to think about it as you turn your attention back to the plot before you, the tight foot by foot square, and continue to gently sift through the dirt. You stop only to make notes on the map and examine the odd bit of animal bones you find.

Bzzzzzz. The constant vibration in your pants makes you anxious. You should put it to silent but keep forgetting. Whatever. You’re busy. Whoever it is will have to wait. You know who it is. He’s been calling for days. You’ve been ignoring him just as long.

You should pick up. You should be there for him. You should be happy for him but your heart feels rotten. Years of pining and you can’t pretend any longer. Not after the party. Not after seeing him on his knee for another woman. That’s it. That’s the seal on the envelope. The dream is crumpled up and in the bin.

He didn’t even notice that you left early. You don’t think anyone did. You spent all those weeks planning and fretting and laying awake at night and for what? To pretend that it could ever be all for you?

You sigh and sit back on your heel, one leg bent under you as you rest your arm on your other knee. You blow an insect away from your face and push your hat back. The sun beats down, offering great light for the excavation but less than ideal temperature.

“Eh, there you are,” Arturo waltzes up in his round tinted spectacles, “find anything good?”

“Nah,” you shake your head and shrug.

“You know where you’d find something amazing? Norway,” he smirks, hands on his hips. “So... you thought about it?”

“Mm, yeah, been thinking,” you utter dully as you look up at him from under the brim of your hat. “When do you need a decision?”

“The sooner the better. The grant proposal is all but approved, we just need a name on that blank line,” he says, “this could be really good for you. No, I know it will be good.”

“Right,” you nod and stand up, dusting off your tan pants, “I know you said you weren’t sure but any idea how long? I’d have to worry about my apartment and telling my family...”

“A year. That’s about right,” he proclaims, “could be longer but I’d plan for that.”

“A year?” You wisp as your chest deflates. You put your hand on your pocket as your phone buzzes again. “Wow.”

“You really want to spend another year in the city sweating for crow bones?” He asks. “Not trying to push you but these opportunities don’t come along often.”

“Norway,” you suck your teeth and angle your chin as you think, “viking stuff?”

“Possibly, could be an early Christian settlement too. How about I send you the proposal and you give it a look?”

“Sure, I... I guess I should.”

“It’ll all be taken care of; accommodation, travel, stipend,” he lists off with his fingers. “I know it’s not Ireland like you wanted.”

“No, no, it’s okay,” you assure him, “I’ll keep thinking.”

He winks and grins triumphantly, “tomorrow. I need to know tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?” You echo back in a hollow murmur.

He’s already walking away. Your phone starts to shake again and you growl. You shove your hand in your pocket and rip it out. Your gloves smear dirt on the screen as you press the red button. You pause before you can drag your thumb over. You inhale and push your finger the other direction.

“Bucky,” you answer in confusion. He wouldn’t be calling if it wasn’t an emergency.

“Ah, there you are kid,” Steve’s voice comes in place of the expected timbre. You hiss. “You avoiding me or something?”

“Uh, no,” you reply thinly, “I’m working,” you rub the back of your neck with your other hand, “it’s been busy and I’m sure you’ve been running all around with... everything.”

You can’t bring yourself to say it. Wedding. Ugh. He’s getting married... to her.

“Well, Peggy’s doing most of the planning, really. I don’t know,” he chuckles crisply, “you know, more a lady’s thing. She’s already knee-deep in the engagement party. Maybe you could give her a few pointers.”

“Yeah, maybe,” you grumble as you bring your hand forward to rub your thumb with your index, scratching away more of the dust.

“I didn’t get to say thank you. Again. That party was amazing. It was perfect, kid.”

“Steve, we’re the same age,” you gripe at his pet name.

“Yeah, but you hate it so much,” he teases.

You can’t smile. Even as your cheeks pinch, you can only grimace. You drop your arm and close your eyes as you push your head back.

“She loved it. I did too. We’re so happy and you made that happen--”

“Steve, why are you calling? I’m buried right now,” you huff.

“You are? I thought you’re supposed to dig stuff up--”

“You know what I mean.”

“Well, you missed Opening Day so I thought maybe you’d wanna come watch the game. Sam’s doing his famous nachos and Bucky is... coming.”

You hear the very man mutter in the background. Great, you even have an audience. You wouldn’t be surprised if he had you on speaker. Why would anything between you ever be intimate?

“Tonight?” You wonder, “you sure you’re available?”

“Me, I should be asking you,” he scoffs, “come on, how long’s it been since we’ve been apart a whole week?”

“Work...”

“Can you dig in the dark?” He challenges.

“Steve,” you sniff, “I’m tired...” you feel your heart sinking. You feel bad. You never say no to Steve. It’s not easy. You tried but he’s right. You can’t remember the last time you didn’t see him at least every other day. “Fine, twist my arm.”

“Good,” he chirps victoriously. “I wasn’t looking forward to driving up there and digging you out. So, seven?”

“Seven, right,” you agree. “See ya then.”

“Don’t make me come find ya, kid.”

You hang up and cringe. You don’t even like baseball. It was just another personality trait you took on hoping to be close to Steve, hoping he might realise you’re destined to be together. Well, that’s not true. You’re just stupid. It took you too long to grow out of being that stupid college girl fawning over the blond hunk in his coed sweater.

Still stupid, still alone.

💟

You never show up empty-handed. Even when you were a poor sophomore. So it is that you delay the inevitable by stopping at your favourite local bakery. They’re closing and you get the eclairs for a discount as they’ll be on the day-old shelf in the morning.

The owner, Marigold, knows you and puts in an extra one. You leave a tip as you listen eagerly to her rambling story about her granddaughter’s first soccer practice. Usually, you would be checking the time but today, you got more than enough. Finally, she sends you off as she turns off the sign.

Fine, you’ll go.

You find a visitor’s spot behind Steve’s building and linger in the car. You eat the extra eclair to keep from crying. Sugar is good for clogging up your tear ducts. You wipe your mouth and make yourself get out of the car.

As you wait in the lobby for the buzzer to pick up, your insides squirm. You’re not ready for this. You’re not ready to face the truth you’ve been running from. The one you know you can’t deny any longer.

“Hey kid,” Steve unlocks the door without awaiting a response. It’s typical; you have your patterns. Those little rituals are all going to end.

You go through to the elevators and contemplate taking the stairs as you wait. The doors open and you step on, facing your reflection in the mirror doors. Your pants are still filthy from working in the dirt, your shirt is stained with your sweat, but at least you remembered to change your shoes. The elevator dings and you nearly let the doors close again before you can find your strength.

You walk down the hallway and knock. You can hear their voices through the door. Steve opens it from within and gives you a strange look.

“What’re you knocking for? You know you can come right in.”

“Yeah, sorry, tired, long day,” you babble out the lazy excuses. “Here.”

“Oh, nice,” he takes the box of eclairs, “you weren’t lying. You look exhausted.”

“Ah, you really know how to talk up a woman,” Sam interjects as he appears in the doorway further down the entryway, “it’s a wonder Peggy said yes.”

“Shut up,” Steve throws back as he turns to head back to the kitchen.

You take your time in pulling off your shoes and sense Sam lingering, watching as you meander. You clear your throat as you stand and head down the hall. He nudges you as you step into the doorway next to him.

“Where ya been?” He asks, “these jackasses have been driving me nuts.”

“Work,” you repeat again, “lots going on.”

“Right, yeah, now that you’re not spending all your time planning someone else’s girlfriend’s birthday.”

You give him a sharp look and he shows his palms. You shake your head. He’s right. You wasted all that time. You’ve wasted years. All for nothing.

“Fiancee, now, I guess,” he adds.

“Yeah, the happy couple,” you snip and step into the room, “so we watching the game or are we giving him another pat on the back.”

“What? You’re not excited? You’ll get to be a bridesmaid or whatever. Since I’m best man, I’ll be sure to save you a dance,” Sam chuckles.

“You? Best man?” Bucky sneers from the couch where he slouches and flicks through a motorcycle magazine, “don’t think so, bud.”

“Oh, you don’t think I’m better than you?” Sam challenges. “Let’s race for it.”

“You cheat,” Bucky growls.

“No, I have strategy,” Sam counters.

You roll your eyes. Wedding talk, already. The exact thing you can’t handle right now. Bucky sits up to glare at Sam as he closes the glossy pages. You let them argue and posture at each other.

You leave the room and let yourself onto the balcony. The fresh air is chilling. You shiver as you step up to the railing and look across the city. You take in the skyline, each window, each peak, each speck of a car on the streets below. It feels so grey. Like it’s the last time you’ll be standing here looking over it all.

Maybe it is.

💟

You sip from the bottle of beer as Sam nearly drops his nachos off his lap in excitement. He hollers at the screen as Bucky gives him a look. Steve shakes a fist at the second base run. You’re happy enough to tamp down the heat of the peppers with the wheaty ale.

Sam rights himself beside you as Steve reaches forward to set down his plate. He grabs the square of paper towel folded on the coffee table and wipes his lips. He sits back and slings his elbow over the armrest as the next batter takes his place.

“So, how do you guys feel about a destination wedding?” Steve asks.

You clamp your lips tight and scoop up more fixings with a chip. Sam swallows loudly as Bucky shrugs. No one says a word.

“Peggy asked earlier. I wanted to do it at a cathedral here. Just how I always pictured it,” Steve says.

Yeah, that sounds like him. He likes old-fashioned and elegant. Everything Peggy is and you’re not. Makes you wonder why she wouldn’t want the same venue.

“Back home?” Sam wonders.

“England? No. I suggested that and she was not into it.”

“Somewhere tropical?” Sam prompts again. He’s at least trying. You’re too sick to open your mouth.

“Sure, that’s what I was hoping,” he smiles, “especially if it’s a winter wedding. The date... yeah, that’s a big deal too. You know, I thought the ring was a pain.”

You keep your head down, hoping the pain doesn’t show. Not only did he propose to her, he kept it from you. You’re best friends and you had no idea. How much had you been through with him? He had you plan that whole party but he couldn’t tell you that?

No, no, you’re being dramatic. You’re friends. He doesn’t owe you that. It’s between him and Peggy. His future... wife. Ugh. You can’t even imagine that happening. You try and try but you just can’t stomach the image. Peggy in white, Steve in his tux, and you just standing, watching.

“I can’t come,” you blurt out abruptly.

“Huh?” Steve blinks and flinches as if he’s been slapped.

Sam angles beside you to squint at you and Bucky’s brows pop up. Another silence, this one deadly. You’re suffocating as you search for words.

“I won’t be here.”

“Well, yeah, like I said, it’s gonna be somewhere else. You don’t even know when it is,” Steve blusters as his face creases in disappointment.

“I’m going to Norway,” you blather and nearly choke at the realisation of what you said.

“Norway?” Sam repeats hollowly.

“Yeah, uh, work... offered me a grant contract and I’ll be going to Norway. For at least a year. So... yeah.”

“Wait, you’re leaving?” Steve blinks rapidly, “how-- when were you going to tell me?”

“I’m telling you now,” you push your shoulders up, “I just found out.”

“You can’t...” Steve begins.

“That’s awesome,” Sam speaks over him, “hey,” he nudges you, “that is so fucking cool. Norway. Vikings and shit.”

Bucky nods and gives a thoughtful look, “rains a lot.”

“So I’ve heard,” you utter dumbly, not sure how to respond. “I got a lot to do before then so I might be a bit absent.”

“Don’t even worry about us,” Sam insists, “you need any help at all...”

Steve stands up suddenly and slams his bottle down. Before you can speak, he twists on his heels and storms across the apartment. You stare after him as he disappears into the next room and you hear the balcony door slide back then snap shut just as quickly.

You grip the beer bottle tight and look down. You didn’t think he’d be mad. You’ll be out of the way. He can get married and be happy.

“What a baby,” Bucky grumbles, “can’t be happy for anyone but himself.”

“Well, you are his best pal,” Sam snipes, “birds of a feather.”

“So that means I’m best man,” Bucky intones mischievously.

“No, it’s not best buddy, it’s best man--”

They continue their banter and you get up. You put down your chips and beer and leave without notice from the bickering couple. You near the balcony and look through to Steve as he leans on the rail, his head down. Gently, you slide the door open and step out.

Only the wind blows as you come closer to the railing. He roils in the cool evening air. You take a breath as you come up next to him.

“Sorry, it’s... a good opportunity.”

“No...” he drones, “I’m happy for you. I just... I can’t imagine my wedding without you. Or my life.” He lifts his head to look at you. “What am I going to do? You’re supposed to tell me what bowtie to wear and how to do my hair.”

“Peggy can do all that,” you cross your arms, “Steve, I can’t pass this up. If I stay in the city...” you let your voice trail off into the wind. If you stay, you’ll have to watch his happily ever after while yours never comes. “I’ll never do anything.”

“I know,” he dips his head again, “I’m proud of you. Really. But I’m going to miss you.”

Your cheeks tauten and your throat clenches. Your voice is creaky as you speak, “I’ll miss you too.”

He’ll miss you but he’ll never love you like you do him.

#steve rogers #thor #fic #series #au #someone new #mcu #grayish fic #angst fic #marvel #avengers #captain america #steve rogers x reader #thor x reader

299 notes · View notes

fire-lizard-ro · 10 months ago

Note

Ohoho Sunday thoughts you say? >:D this is loosely based on the prior ask? But I was just thinking how Sunday would probably try (keyword try) to remain pure and abstain from s*x before marriage, yknow? But when he finally does have you as his own, all bets are off. Angel boi is horny and wants you :( in his mind: it’s pure and simple yet beautiful lovemaking between two souls :( and in my love deprived ass I would melt because I know he’d be big on giving and receiving praise fjgjgjgj even would enjoy the idea of extending the Family if you were down for it (whether or not you could, he enjoys the idea of it) ((also he likes control so))

And don’t get me staarttteddd on his sweet aftercare and pillow talk D: oml you’d quite literally be on cloud nine!! He is too tho :) and he cannot help himself from just being so sweet and genuine orz

ohhHHHHH- Y e s I like this quite a bit. Need this to take a break from the angst I’ve been cookin up with a certain someone (you know who you are OTL).

Fair warning y’all are gonna end up seeing me write a fic about him that is blatantly blasphemous with religious themes (pretends like I’m not already working on one like that with Argenti).

Anyways- Back to this.

Thank you so much for the ask~ I love Sunday so much. <333333

CW: possessive behavior, cumming inside, fluff!!! (crazy I know how very almost off brand of me-), maybe some blasphemous thoughts? (idk that they count with aeons but hey-), marking, breeding kink (he’s saying it regardless of whether you are able to have children or not bc regardless it’s h o t -), praise

Reader gender: gender neutral (I tried not to say anything that would be too telling about what sex the reader is so please read it as such! I don’t think I said anything that was like that-)

So going off the last ask, we’re going to assume that he likes you enough to feel great affection for you. Enough to want you. To feel his own carnal desires rear their head even before you’ve married. It manifests in his seemingly innocent yet wandering hands. A hand on your waist as he passes by you. His hands drifting dangerously low when you hug. Leaning in close to talk to you. Lips making their way down from your forehead to your cheek to the corner of your lips. The placement of his kiss making its way to your lips slowly with every goodbye kiss.

But at some point, he can’t really stop himself from at least using those pretty hands of his on you- Along with that silver tongue and sinful mouth. He’ll make you feel so incredibly good, plunging his long fingers into you and taking you into his mouth. He’s lick and suck at you and even slide his tongue inside you. Perhaps the taste of you would be enough to tide him over until you were properly his- Married to him. It would have to be enough because you deserved to have a perfect wedding and perfect wedding night.

But aeons that doesn’t stop him from pleasuring you with what he can before then in order to hopefully keep himself in line. Even as his cock aches with the need to have you, he’ll just hold you down and whisper sweet promises in your ear. Even if you beg him, he won’t. Just wait for him baby just a little longer-

But after the ceremony is over and the afterparty is done and the guests all leave-

Oh dear. You’re finally left alone with your hungry fian- husband. You’re finally left alone with your absolutely famished husband. And you’re on the menu.

It begins like how many of your other encounters of sexual nature begin.

Sweet kisses that make it seem like he wants to swallow you whole. Gentle hands taking in the feel of you in his arms. Trailing kisses down your throat, eyes closed in ecstasy because you were finally his now. He can have you with no regrets. All that waiting was for this moment. When he could finally have you wholly. And that makes this moment in the warm light of the bedside lamp and the cooler shades of the moon all the sweeter.

Wetted fingers stretching you in preparation for something larger, taking their time in their task despite knowing you well by then. Because even if this was to get you ready to become one with him- He’s wants to draw as much pleasure from you as possible. This is a special night for the two of you. One he will cherish completely and one he wants to make perfect for you. His arm would be holding him up, cradled behind your head for you to lean on while he molds himself to your side. Even as you whine and roll your hips into the curl of his fingers inside you, pressing on that special spot inside you, he kisses your cheeks gently with soothing words. “Good… very good, my love. Just a little more- I want you to finish on my fingers first. Can you do that for me, my sweet? I know you can-”

Just as he gives you your first orgasm of the night, he takes your lips once more while gently coaxing your through the waves of pleasure. He’s so soft, guiding you through the dance even while your mind goes blank for a bit as he watches your expression. “That’s it. I’ve got you.”

It’s then that he kisses you almost chastely before beginning his journey down your body to have his prize. The prize being whatever he’s managed to pull from you. He’d lick it from your body in broad strokes as though he were tasting honey dribbled over your form, caressing your every curve as he went.

Sunday would dribble lube over himself, a hand slathering the viscous substance over his cock in pumping motions. It was almost erotic watching him. The way he'd squeeze just a little at the top and you would watch his hardness twitch and drool between his fingers. But when you look up, the angelic man would only be looking at you. Gazing lovingly- longingly at you.

That's how it always was. Ever since meeting, he couldn't seem to take his eyes off you. You were simply radiant to him. Unlike anything or anyone else he'd ever seen.

Leaning over you to settle himself between your legs, Sunday would give you another kiss before asking if you were ready. While waiting for your answer, he'd go back to nip and lick at your neck. He wanted to mark you for all to see- You were his. His lover, his spouse, his soulmate. His. No one else's. He would love and care for you in every way, he'd think to himself.

And no- Don't just nod at him. "I need to hear you say it, dove. Please? For me, my dear?" Once you'd given him your clear consent, he'd bring you into a deep kiss while lining himself up with your stretched out, wet entrance. He can't even bring himself to tease you a little. Though the thought crossed his mind, he knew he'd been waiting far too long for this.

Once he was in the proper place, he'd rest his forehead against yours, the two of you breathing in each other's air while he looks down at where the two of you would be connected, fingers drifting to fondle you in order to distract from any possible pain you may feel with a gentle hum.

As Sunday would finally push in, cockhead popping inside, he'd gasp against your lips with twitching hips he had to force still. "Are you alright, love?" Taking a moment for himself to regain his composure and steel himself, he'd hide away in the crook of your neck to breathe in your scent and feel your pulse beneath his soft lips. Once you were ready it would be but a slow rock of his hips, moving gently inside you, to eventually sheath himself completely inside. As he worked himself into your tightness, Sunday would whisper sweet words into your ears in a whisper, as though the words were only for the two of you despite no one else being around- The words would come in between kisses while he rubbed a hand up and down your side to comfort you, the hand occasionally straying to rub your sex or pluck at your nipples to distract you from the strain of this part of the night.

Once bottomed out, your ass resting in the cradle of his hips with his body covering yours, he would ask you if you're alright and give you time to adjust. It's all praises here, the man telling you just how good you are for him and saying that you're doing wonderfully. After some time passes and you rock your hips against his to test your comfort, a small moan would be startled out of him before it devolves into a chuckle. "Are you ready, my love?"

It'd start with hip just grinding into you, firm but slow and accompanied by a pleasured sigh from him. He'd hold back none of his sounds because he wanted you to know how good you made him feel. Then he'd pull out only just a bit before thrusting himself back in. At some point he had begun to properly fuck you, the push and pull like the rocking of a boat on a gentle sea. This was making love. And after angling his hips, he found your sweet spot he'd only ever touched with those pretty fingers of his.

It'd be a struggle to not lose himself in you. In your all-consuming presence and the pleasure you gave him- In the love you showed him as you reached up to bring him close with a whimper of his name. It was like hearing the gospel fall from your lips. And they might as well have been. For now you were his everything. His god, his true Harmony. Were you to say it, it would be so. And right now, you were telling him that it felt good and asking him to keep going. So, he would.

With teeth gently marking all the places he'd been, his darkened eyes would watch the way you arch your back and moan to the heavens (they were yours anyways). Sunday is something that knows how to hide its teeth and disguise itself in the form of a man. He was careful to dull his claws so he would not hurt you when he held you close. Careful to veil the violence that was part of him, showing in his eyes, when he was with you. But he was a beast who knew the taste of blood. And yet you, his pure and lovely dove, loved him and accepted him. You said he was a good man and that you loved him. You were his truth. So, it must be so.

He wanted to claim you so wholly that none could ever deny that you both belonged to one another. That none could mistake that you were his deity and him your humble and devout servant who worshiped you here in the temple of your bed, giving you his offerings in pleasure, loyalty, and love. That brought another idea to mind of just how he could claim you and show you his deepest love.

"I want to breed you, my love. To carry on the family and mark you inside with my cum. Would that be alright? Do you want that as well, dove?"

He would speed up now, thinking about how he could have a family with you. How lovely you would look with a child tottering around behind you. He would make it happen no matter what so long as you wanted it as well. When you agree, he'd smile so wide his face hurt and shower you with kisses. "Thank you, thank you, thank you, my love my heart my everything-"

He can hardly fathom how he'd lived without you before.

Touching and kissing you all over he drove the two of you to your peak, the both of you moaning and whining against each other's lips as you kissed through the high. His hips continued to rock into yours to prolong the waves of pleasure that washed over you before slowing to a stop when you both became overstimulated.

"Thank you, love. You did so well- So very good for me. I love you so much," he'd praise and declare between kisses that he planted all over- Everywhere he could reach while wrapped up in your arms and holding you so close you wondered if the two of you could fuse together. "I love you, too," you'd mumble against his lips as he came back to them for a proper kiss. The chaste peck turning into a sensuous slide of lips, unhurried and full of undeniable love.

Even when he withdrew from your now cum-filled hole and began to clean you up, he would praise you and ask you how you felt while pressing kisses every place he touched. Once everything was done and he'd had you drink water, he'd lay down and pull you to lay on his chest. While stroking your back and pressing a kiss to your hair, he'd bid you goodnight and say yet another "I love you" before quietly humming to help you drift asleep.

Hopefully that was to your liking~ I had fun writing it! Thank you for the idea and for letting me write more about Sunday! <333

Feel free to send in another request if you want, hehe.

#Roro writes #gn reader #hsr x reader #honkai star rail x reader #hsr x gn reader #honkai star rail x gn reader #hsr smut #honkai star rail smut #hsr sunday x reader #sunday x reader #sunday smut #hsr sunday smut #bottom reader #top character #asks answered

854 notes · View notes

juniperskye · 8 months ago

Text

Too Sweet.

Based on the following ask from @reidstheyfriend : Hotch x innocent/sunshine! Reader

I got this idea listening to Too Sweet by Hozier. I just immediately think of Hotch when listening to the song. I feel like Hotch would think he’s too broken or traumatized for reader because she’s so sweet and her heart is full of love and joy and that’s something he loves about her. He’s worried he would corrupt her and that she deserves better. So, most of the fic I would say it’s Hotch longing for reader but putting distance between them. Until he can no longer take it anymore. He needs her. He loves her.

I especially see the line where Hozier is talking about working late away from the phone and it makes her worry. I see reader calling/texting Hotch at late hours because she’s worried about him and he is too caught up in work to see her calls/texts.

Italics -text message

Hotch x innocent/sunshine! GN Reader

Angst/Fluff

Word count: 1206

REQUESTS ARE OPEN - not edited - please be kind. Requests are open and feedback is welcome if it's constructive!

Warnings: My blog is 18+, minors DNI, Aaron really doubting his worth, BAU canon typical violence, mention of Haley and Jack, reader has a sister, no use of y/n, no pronouns used for reader, pet names (honey, baby, sunshine) let me know if I missed any!!

That being said I do not own the characters portrayed in this story.

“Sunshine, you deserve so much more. I’m so sorry. I just, I want you to be with someone better, someone good.” Aaron said, his voice faltering.

“Aaron, wait. Let’s talk about this.”

Your heart broke at the sight of him. Aaron looked completely and utterly wrecked. You had a pretty good feeling that you knew his reasoning behind this conversation. Aaron had always called you his sunshine, he had said that you brought light into his life that had been long since dulled. You knew that Aaron had this fear of dulling your light, but you knew that wasn’t the case…you thought back to some of the things that had happened in the last few months that may have led Aaron here.

*Three Weeks Earlier*

Aaron had been working late, it had been a local case that was time sensitive. You knew this meant it was most likely a hostage situation or a child abduction, these cases didn’t offer a chance for the team to head home and sleep.

You had been keeping up with the case as much as the news and texts from Garcia would allow. You hadn’t heard from Aaron in a few hours, which wasn’t totally uncommon, however, Garcia had told you that the case had been solved and the team had been dismissed for the evening.

You figured he must be finishing up the reports and decided you send him a text before heading to bed for the night.

Hey baby, I know you’re working, I just wanted to text and let you know I am heading to bed. Jack wanted me to tell you he loved you when you got home, but I’m not sure when that’ll be. Honey, don’t work too hard…come home soon. I love you so much.

You hit send and set off to your room, after brushing your teeth, you slid into bed. After tossing and turning for a little bit, you hopped out of bed and moved to your dresser. You pulled out one of Aaron’s t-shirts and changed into it, adding a spray of his cologne. After taking a deep breath, your body immediately relaxed, and you climbed back into bed.

It was after three in the morning when Aaron came through the door. He made sure to be as quiet as possible as he moved through the apartment. He quickly checked in on Jack and then made his way to your room. His heart clenched as he saw you curled up in his shirt, clutching his pillow. He changed his clothes and brushed his teeth quickly before climbing into bed behind you, wrapping his arms around your middle. You shifted closer to him and he pressed a gentle kiss to your neck.

*Two Weeks Earlier*

Aaron had been home for about two hours and in that time, he’d greeted you, grabbed a whiskey and gone straight into his office. Things at the BAU had been extremely busy, this had been the first night Aaron had been home in three weeks. All you wanted was to have him by your side while you slept tonight.

“Aaron, honey, why don’t you come to bed? It’s nearly daylight.” You suggest.

“I, know sunshine, I’m sorry. I’m almost done!”

“Aaron…”

He looked up at you, finally noticing the exhaustion in your expression. He clicked his mouse a few more times, signed one last form, then got up. He made his way to you and wrapped his arm around you.

“Let’s get you to bed.” Aaron said as he placed a kiss to your temple.

Things had been like this more often than not, Aaron consistently working late, be it at home or the BAU. He’d be up until dawn, sipping his whiskey neat, going over paperwork. You’d fallen into this pattern where you’d be waking up in time to say goodnight to him. Knowing he’d have to get up pretty soon, you’d make his coffee, not that it took much, he drank it black. Aaron would get up, make his way to the kitchen, grab his coffee, and give you a kiss as thanks.

“Sunshine, you are as bright as the morning.” Aaron smiles.

“Honey...” You’d blush.

*Present Day*

“Sunshine, there’s nothing more to talk about. I’m not good for you. You have stayed up waiting for me, time and time again. You consistently have to go to bed without me, have dinner without me. I mean last month alone I missed three dates, two of Jack’s soccer games, and the Halloween party at your sister’s.” Aaron trailed on.

“Aaron, honey, it’s okay. It happens. The BAU is a busy job, you’re literally making the world a safer place.”

You could see the emotions flashing across Aaron’s face. The inner turmoil he was currently experiencing made you reach out to him, gently placing your hand on his cheek. He brought his hand up to cover your own, leaning into your touch.

“Sunshine I just want you to be happy. You should be with someone who has time to show you how wonderful you are, someone who doesn’t miss dates.”

“Aaron, don’t you get it? You have made me so incredibly happy in the time we have been together. I got into this relationship knowing full well that you would be extremely busy and that you might miss some things…but that doesn’t bother me. Honey you show me your love and appreciation every single day. You have my favorite flowers delivered once a week, that way I’ll always have fresh ones. You leave me sticky notes on the bathroom mirror with sweet notes, so I’ll have a good start to my day. You put my towel on the warmer so I can be extra cozy when I get out of the shower. You make me lunch each morning, so I don’t have to. This relationship is so much more than missed dates and waiting up honey. You are an honest, kind, loving man, Aaron you deserve to be loved.”

Tears were falling from both you and Aaron. You just wished that Aaron could see himself through your eyes. After things with Haley, he truly had never been the same, he feared that his love only brought destruction. It had taken months of dates and persuasion (from Dave) to get Aaron to ask you to be his. The longer Aaron had been with you, the more he thought that he didn’t deserve your love. You were the best person he knew; you could bring a smile to anyone’s face through your presence alone. He couldn’t let his darkness cloud your sunshine. And yet here you were, proving to him that he too had light, light that he had brought to you.

“I’m sorry sunshine. I just, I get in my head. You’re just so good.”

“Aaron it’s okay, as long as you don’t still plan on calling this quits.”

“I’m not going anywhere sunshine. I can’t promise I won’t doubt myself ever again, but I can promise that I am here for the long haul.” Aaron squeezed your hand gently.

“Well, that’s good because you are stuck with me.” You smiled.

“You’re too sweet for me.” Aaron said before leaning in and pressing a gentle kiss to your lips.

361 notes · View notes

whimsyfinny · 10 months ago

Text

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: Charlie discovers the Winchester boys to be struggling with keeping the bunker tidy, looking after themselves and being able to do their job simultaneously. Luckily she has a friend who’s from a Hunter family that is in need of work and can help them with research. Or so she thought that’s what her job would be. When Dean sees your more domesticated side, his head won’t stop swimming with all the wrong ideas.

Slow burn, enemies to lovers, smut

Warnings: None (Yet) in chapters to come there will be smut (and lots of it) and possible violence/blood/gore

Chapter Word Count: 1762

—-MDNI—-

A/N: My first Supernatural fic so I hope it doesn’t suck ass. Only proof read by myself, so pls let me know of any errors so I can correct! Also I know at this point in the series Dean is more serious, however I love pre-Hell Dean so imma bring some of those vibes in here. This is also posted on my AO3.

——————————————————————

I'm Not Your F*cking Maid

Please read Prologue before starting.

Chapter 1

I sat in the window booth at the typical sleepy diner, tapping my fingers on the sticky wooden table and checking the time on my phone every minute. She was late. She was never late. And now I’m getting worried. I’m sure she’s fine, I had convinced myself as I reached for my backpack and pulled out an old tome on burial rights over various different cultures. I might as well read to distract myself whilst I wait for her to arrive. I try to relax into the monotone ambience of the room, and just as I get settled into the scrawling text on the ancient pages, a growling engine pulling up outside draws my gaze away from the long paragraph on ‘Cremation’. I return my attention back to the book after a second as the engine ticks over outside for a few more beats before being turned off. The waitress returns to my table to collect the empty beer bottle I’d drained when I first arrived; she smiled and asked if she could get me anything.

“Just another one of those please,” I smiled back, hearing the bell ring as the front door opened and my gaze jumped from the waitress to Charlie as she came skipping towards where I was sitting, sliding into the booth opposite me.

“(Y/n) I’m so sorry I’m late, I had an errand to run and it took waaaayyy longer than expected.”

“It’s ok, I was starting to get a little worried so I’m just glad you’re alright….” I felt my voice trail off as I felt the booth cushion dip as someone sat next to me. I whipped my head around and came nose-to-nose with a man I’d never met before; with the most enticing green eyes I’d ever gazed into and annoyingly kissable lips pulling into a devilish smirk. Just as those lips parted to speak, I blurted out without thinking:

“Who the fuck are you?”

He blinked in slight shock, and paused like he was rethinking what he was going to say. He opened his mouth to speak again but was interrupted a second time.

“Dean, don’t sit so close,” another man, who I didn’t even realise was there, had sat down next to Charlie. He was taller, with impressive hair and softer features than this Dean guy, who was practically sitting in my lap and eyeing me up and down. Dean gave this other man a look as if to say ‘shut up’, before turning to me once more, devilish grin back in place. He opened his mouth to speak a third time right as the waitress returned with my beer.

“Here you are,” she said sweetly, not knowing she was interrupting as Dean threw his hands up in defeat at not being able to get a word in, slumping back in the chair. The waitress put the bottle down in front of me.

“Can I get anything for your friends?” She looked around the table and before either of the men could answer, Charlie jumped in;

“Three very strong coffees please.”

Dean huffed, “Oh so I can’t even order a beer?”

“You two boys have been living on pizza and beer for God knows how long. At least drink something that contains some water,” Charlie quipped, looking at them both like they were naughty children. She sighed when she realised they looked slightly ashamed of themselves. “Anyway, (Y/n), this is Sam and Dean. I know you’ve been looking for work and these two might be able to help. They’re good friends of mine and they’re-“

“Hunters,” I interrupted, feeling my blood start to run cold, “yeah I know who they are. Winchesters,” the name felt bitter on my tongue, like poison.

They must have noticed the change of tone in my voice because the table went quiet, even the mischievous glint seemed to have gone from Deans gaze as he looked at me with intrigue. Annoyed at myself for not realising who they were sooner, I grabbed my backpack and unzipped it, packing away my book. I stood up and glared down at Dean, about to bark at him to move when Charlie grabbed my wrist.

“(Y/n) what’s wrong? What are you doing? Please don’t go, we…they could really use your help right now.”

“And why should I? They’re the reason I’m struggling in the first place,” I paused, staring down at the two men who now had dark, ashamed expressions cloaking their features, almost like this wasn’t the first time they’d heard this side of the story where they weren’t always the hero’s. “They’re the reason my family is dead, and I’m all alone.” More silence hung over the booth like a dark cloud. It was Sam who spoke up after a minute or so, genuine sorrow in his eyes.

“(Y/n) I’m so, so sorry. Who-”

“Bobby Singer.”

The Winchester brothers shot each other a stunned look.

“B-Bobby?” Sam stuttered whilst Deans eyes widened. He looked like he’d taken a blow to the chest and had the air knocked from his lungs, “We didn’t know he had any living relatives…”

“He was my uncle,” Deans jaw clenched, “And you guys didn’t know because he knew I’d end up being used against him. I collected books for him to help you guys on all your bullshit missions, so haven’t I already helped you enough? Don’t you owe me some peace?” I threw my bag on the floor and picked up my beer, taking several gulps before slamming it back onto the table before continuing, the words just spilling out. “He was my only living relative for as long as I can remember. So fuck you guys for taking him away from me.”

“We loved Bobby,” Dean spoke suddenly in a grave tone and his gaze went dark as he stood up to face me. His tall form with strong, broad shoulders loomed over my much smaller stature, one of his fingers jabbing into my chest.

“Dean-” Sam started but was silenced by a wave of Deans other hand.

“You can get down off your high fucking horse if you think that you’re the only family that he had. You weren’t. He raised us more than our own father did, and I’ll be damned if I don’t think about him every day and wish he was here. You’re not the only one grieving him so stop acting like a precious little bitch and grow up,” Deans voice grew louder and more pissed as he spoke, and with every word he spoke he got closer and closer until he was right in my face, our noses almost touching. My heart rate was starting to pick up and I could feel the anger start to boil in my veins. Without missing a beat I threw my fist out and punched him in the face, making him stumble out of the booth and into the aisle in the diner. I heard gasps around me but didn’t look up. When the anger in my veins didn’t fade with the single punch, I didn’t give him a chance to gain his composure as I tackled him, making him fall on his back as I straddled him, my knees gripping his hips as I began punching him again and again right in that stupid face of his. Charlie and Sam seemed to sit there in disbelief for a few seconds before springing into action and lifting me off the older Winchester brother. Sam held me back gently but firmly as Charlie helped Dean to his feet, handing him a napkin from the table for the blood pouring from his nose and lip.

“You crazy bitch!” Dean spat.

“Fuck you!” I tried to break free so I could slap him but Sam held me tight.

The whole diner had gone silent as they watched me lose my shit, some amused but most were horrified. It took a few more moments of silence before they all went back to what they were doing and Sam let go of me, watching me like I was a time bomb. I heard Charlie giggle quietly.

“Holy crap (Y/n) I had no idea you had that in you. I’m actually a little impressed, you were always so quiet.”

“What can I say,” I turned to glare at Dean “I learnt from the best,” as I turned away I heard him mutter under his breath.

“Yeah you aren’t the only one.”

For a second time I saw red, and before Sam could grab me I spun on my heel and threw my fist out. CRACK.

The car doors slammed closed next to me after I was crammed into the back of Deans car. It wouldn’t have been that bad - the seats were oh so plush - if it wasn’t for the handcuffs tight round my wrists and duct tape across my lips. Oh, and that my thigh was rubbing up against the man that I had just assaulted. Dean was in the same situation with the handcuffs and the tape, his long legs having to spread wide so he can fit in the back of his own car. I could feel his gaze burning into the side of my face as I watched Sam and Charlie apologising to the diner staff through the front window. I was trying to find any sort of distraction right now, as Deans body temperature was hot and I could feel it through both his jeans and mine as he pressed into me. He was starting to make me sweat a little. Luckily it wasn’t long before Charlie and Sam hopped into the car, Sam in the drivers seat. They both turned to face us, smiles of bewilderment on their faces as if they were still processing what had just happened. Sam spoke first.

“(Y/n) is now officially barred from that diner, and honestly they wanted to call the cops. Charlie managed to save your ass as she still had her FBI badge on her,” he shot her a look and she grinned.

“So because now, you technically owe me a debt of gratitude, you will be staying in the bunker with the boys and helping them with their research.” She chimed, like she had won a game. In the end they got what they wanted.

I groaned and rolled my eyes. Of course. I heard Dean huff next to me, and he sounded just as displeased as I did. To be honest at this point, that’s fair.

Although he had it coming.

——————————————————————

Up Next

Chapter 2

#dean x reader #dean winchester x female!reader #dean winchester x you #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester #dean winchester smut #dean x you #dean x y/n #dean x female!reader

422 notes · View notes

pyschosoda · 14 days ago

Text

Decided

Aegon ii targaryen x reader(kinda)

in which you and aegon come to an agreement

a/n: I swear I was going to write a completely different fic for someone else but i got the urge to write for aegon so take this short thingy i plucked from my brain before i start working on some requests ^-^ (also this is my first time using my own gifs i hope they work…)

- divider by @thecutestgrotto -

The sound of tapping echos through the bare summer halls of the Red Keep.

tap…tap…tap

She was sure the meeting would end soon.

tap…tap…tap

The guards wouldn't let her pass, having been told by the king of all people that she wasn’t allowed in.

tap…tap…tap

The tapping of her foot never seizing as she stood there, arms crossed, waiting for the doors to open. She knew the meeting would end soon; Aegon never could sit through an entire meeting.

Finally, the door does open, and the men on the king's council began to leave.

She wasted no time stomping her way from the humid halls into yet another humid room in the red keep; if it wasn’t so hot, she would think it was her anger making her hair frizz and scrunch up. She had spent hours this morning doing her hair, straightening it to the best of her ability, then pinning it back.

But no matter how hard she tried, the heat in King’s Landing always seemed to win this imaginary war, ruining her early morning efforts. but that never stopped her from putting an effort in, hoping one day she’ll finally win this battle.

Of course she had grown up with servants who did all this for her, but the ones she had here in King’s Landing always seemed to jerk and pull too hard for her tender head, so she decided that she’d do it herself rather than endure their harsh tugging, even if she didn’t know what she was doing.

“Leave us,” her order echoed in the room, the remaining men in the court scurrying off like the rats they were.

“Ah, My love, I was beginning to wonder when you might show up.”

She ignored his comment.

“Why is it that I must find out from the guards that I am no longer to attend the meetings? Couldn't even have the decency to tell me yourself,” she scoffs, the echoes of her heels bouncing off the walls as she moves to pour herself a glass of wine.

“I have no need of you,” he simply says, his face scrunching downwards as he shrugs.

“You have no need of me?” She repeats, her tone just as sharp as her gaze as she glances at his sitting figure.

He must’ve realized his mistake because he rephrased his sentence.

“In this room? Yes, I have no need of you.”

“Aegon,” she lets out an irritated sigh. “I am on your side,” her voice as gentle as the steps she took towards the table, occupying one of the empty chairs near him.

The chair she usually sat in.

“Is that why you run off plotting things behind my back?” Aegon’s accusing words make her roll her eyes, leaning back in her seat as she drinks from the chalice.

“I wasn’t…” She held her tongue, watching him roll the marble ball in place. “I am trying to help you, Aegon.”

“You’re helping?” His gaze flicks up to meet hers, grinning as though she had told a joke. “I have no need of your help.”

Truth be told, Aegon had no idea what he was doing; he didn’t know how to be a king. How could anyone possibly know how to be a king?

Of course he had the men on his council, his brother, and perhaps even his own mother to help him, but no one truly thought he could handle being king; he was sure they thought him too stupid, too incompetent to sit upon the throne.

He wanted to prove them wrong, show that he could be king, and show that he could come up with his own solutions for his kingdom.

He decided he’d show them he could be the king the people deserved, even if he didn’t know what he was doing.

“I have plenty of others in my court offering the same help; I have yet to find any of it useful,” he mumbles lazily, his eyes glued to the rolling marble.

“Oh please,” She rolls her eyes, looking as though she was biting back a laugh.

“You need the people to like you, Aegon,” She was referring to the smallfolk. He knew that she was right, but that didn’t stop the anger bubbling up within him.

“They will not just do so because you wear a crown and call yourself the king.”

She goes on to explain her plan, but the more she talks, the more restless Aegon gets, and the more his anger boils until it eventually overflows.

“I am the king!” He stands up suddenly, the marble ball gripped in his hand as if he were scared someone would take it from him.

“Not you!”

She felt no amusement in his reaction, not like she usually did when she tried to get him riled up. Instead she just felt annoyed.

Annoyed that he interrupted her, annoyed with his outburst, annoyed he was yelling at her of all people.

She assumed he was waiting for a response; she gave him none, knowing better than to entertain his tantrums. She decided the chalice in her hand was more important.

He continues.

“I do not need you speaking for me! Or making plans on my behalf! I am not a fucking child!”

There was silence for a moment; the only sound in the room was Aegon’s heavy breathing.

"Are you done?" She hums, gently swirling the wine in her cup, watching the red liquid move within it.

Aegon didn't speak for a moment, still winded from his outburst. his eyes glued to her unbothered figure, she couldn’t even give him the courtesy of looking him in the eyes, much less look in his direction.

“…yes.." He clears his throat, sliding the marble ball back into it’s spot as he places himself back in his seat, moving his hair from his face.

"And do you feel better after that?" She finally moves her eyes to look at him.

“Yes,” he repeats, placing his elbows on the table as he presses his clasped hands against his forehead.

“Good,” she pushes her chalice of wine towards him, to which he drags his hands down his face, meeting her gaze before taking the cup.

“Now, as I was discussing before your…” There was a pause. “Outburst...” She taps her nails against the table.

The silence had returned again, Aegon’s fingers tapping against the neck of his cup in sync with her own tapping. His thoughts move within his head as he considers her words. He then gives her a slight nod, bringing the chalice to his lips.

“‘tis a good plan,” he decided.

138 notes · View notes

aethon-recs · 1 year ago

Text

Tomarrymort Starter Pack: 10 Recs for Getting Started in Tomarrymort

I've compiled a list of 10 medium to longfic recs that I think represent a great on-ramp to the Tomarrymort ship, as inspired by @sitp-recs’ Drarry for Beginners rec list. These are the fics that I would use to on-board people to the ship — gorgeous writing, superb characterization, and just as enjoyable on the first read as the 20th reread.

As always, I am stunned by the talent in this ship! I tried to pick a good mix of different themes/tropes/settings, with a focus on elements that make for a good introductory work: the characters are recognizable; the setting skews more recognizable; both characters in the ship are a meaningful part of the story; the ship is central to the story; and the fics are for the most part complete (or updated within the last year).

(Standard rec list disclaimers apply: please mind all tags and warnings on AO3 before reading; this blog abides by the age-old fandom axiom of don’t like; don’t read; recs are in alphabetical order by title.)

This is Part 1 of a 3-part series — I also have an Intermediate reading list and Advanced reading list coming up for readers who have been with the ship for a longer time.

For now, please enjoy these 1.3 million words of absolutely brilliant Tomarrymort reads that I hope will keep you hooked until the very last word:

Tomarrymort Starter Pack Recs

A Dangerous Game by @cybrid (E, 284k, WIP)

Setting: Canon Divergence – Book 5 Premise: If Tom’s diary horcrux gains a body at the end of Harry’s 5th year (instead of his 2nd), and then promptly kidnaps Harry and holds him captive over the summer. Lots of smut ensues. Why I rec it: The characterization is truly stunning — Tom Riddle is undoubtedly a psychopath — manipulative, thrill-seeking, kind of an irredeemable shithead — but he’s also dazzlingly charming when he chooses to be, someone whose presence Harry quickly grows addicted to. Their relationship can get incredibly toxic and fucked-up at times, but Harry has top-notch instincts and can hold his own against Tom. The plot is absolutely gripping, with the threat of (the main) Voldemort, who has set his sights on reclaiming his wayward horcrux, looming in the background.

A Future Without a Face by @dividawrites (E, 115k, complete)

Setting: Time-Travel (1940s) Premise: If Harry travels back in time to Tom’s 5th year at Hogwarts, and Tom becomes obsessed with the new transfer student and wants nothing more than to possess him every way. Why I rec it: A 1940s time travel fic told entirely from Tom Riddle POV! Divida absolutely nails psychopath Tom — how he quickly gets singlemindedly focused on Harry, how the idea of possessing Harry consumes him, how he has no compunctions about doing completely fucked-up and destructive things to achieve his goals. There is so much tension between them from the start, so there’s not much of a wait to see some hot Harry & Tom action — and the conflict and tension only continues to build and build in dramatic fashion throughout the rest of the fic.

Either must die at the hand of the other by @metalomagnetic (E, 260k, complete)

Setting: Post-Canon Premise: If Voldemort survives the Battle of Hogwarts and is initially kept prisoner in Azkaban, until Harry takes him into Grimmauld Place under house arrest. Why I rec it: This fic is an incredible exploration of Voldemort at his most terrifying. Even if he starts off the fic with his magic temporarily blocked, he is no less powerful without his magic. The force of his personality is powerful enough for him to chip away at Harry’s initial resistance — @metalomagnetic manages to write one of the most charismatic, brilliantly manipulative, and psychologically devastating versions of Voldemort I’ve ever read. Harry ends up in a good place by the end of the fic, but the journey to get there is a roller-coaster of emotions that have permanently imprinted onto my soul.

In Somno Veritas by ladyoflilacs and @lordansketil (M, 158k, complete)

Setting: Canon Divergence – Book 6 Premise: If Harry starts appearing in Voldemort’s nightly dreams during Book 6, and Voldemort becomes obsessed with Harry after realizing he’s his horcrux. Why I rec it: This is one of the most unique fics I’ve ever read in this ship! Every scene is told in alternating POV between Harry’s POV and Voldemort’s POV, so you get to see how every scene unfolds from both of their perspectives. Voldemort is so intense and just as terrible as he is in canon, so his character is not at all sugarcoated, and Harry has so much compassion and heart and manages to fall in love with Voldemort anyway. The writing style is gorgeous, with richly detailed and emotionally-laden prose. Also, one thing that pleasantly surprised me is how funny their banter is! There were definitely a number of times where I laughed out loud in the middle of an otherwise really intense scene. Bonus content: also comes with a lovely sequel that made me melt.

Inevitabilities by @shadow-of-the-eclipse (T, 103k, complete)

Setting: Same-Age AU Premise: If Harry and Tom attend Hogwarts together and go traveling around the world after they graduate. A betrayal leads to their break-up, but after many years, Harry returns to find Tom in Britain, and the two of them are drawn back together again. Why I rec it: An excellent same-age AU with unhinged dark Harry and just-as-unhinged Tom. Their relationship starts out quite dark and twisted and unhealthy — and only devolves from there. The fic ends with the two of them as equals — utterly devoted to each other — but in an incredibly fucked-up way: “He loves Tom like a forest fire; wild and all-consuming, he wants to devour Tom, to claim him, to mark him, break him.” Isn’t that absolutely breathtaking?

love is touching souls (surely you touched mine) by @toast-ranger-to-a-stranger (M, 34k, complete)

Setting: Time-Travel (1940s) Premise: If Harry gets thrown back into the mid-1940s and meets Tom Riddle as a young man just graduated from Hogwarts working at Borgin and Burkes. Why I rec it: When Harry accidentally travels back in time and chances upon Tom Riddle as a fresh graduate, he realizes this is his chance to make a difference. While Harry is only in the past for a brief interlude, he leaves enough of an impression to change the trajectory of Tom’s life. The dynamic between Harry and Tom is rife with tension and witty dialogue, and the story is set during Christmastime, which lends a very festive and heartwarming atmosphere for falling in love with each other.

No Glory by @obsidianpen (E, 254k, WIP)

Setting: Voldemort Wins AU Premise: If Voldemort figures out Harry is his horcrux when Harry surrenders in the Forbidden Forest, and decides to keep Harry instead of killing him. Why I rec it: This fic showcases the absolute, terrifying genius side of Voldemort, in a universe where he wins the war and captures Harry at the end of book 7. I am stunned at how skillfully @obsidianpen portrays Voldemort as a brilliant political strategist — the courtroom scene where he manipulates the story and the audience so well stands out as a top 10 fanfic moment in my mind. Harry and Voldemort’s relationship is chilling from the very start, and grows even more unhealthy as Voldemort gets addicted to Harry’s touch due to the presence of the horcrux, but Harry later learns to turn that to his advantage.

The Fire, Burning by @parsimmony (E, 35k, complete)

Setting: Canon Divergence – Book 6 Premise: If Voldemort discovers Harry is his horcrux after Book 6, and kidnaps him to keep him captive by his side in his bed, inside of a lovely greenhouse setting full of friendly snakes on the grounds of Malfoy Manor. Why I rec it: The prose!! I am swooning over the prose! Harry is Voldemort’s captive in this fic, but he is so much more than that — and the emotions that gradually blossom between them have so much richness and depth and are utterly moving that I’m still drowning in the depths of intimacy that were portrayed. Their relationship unfolds in such a gorgeous and unrushed way, and the setting is so unique too — a lush and overgrown greenhouse that’s exploding with exotic plants and friendly snakes around every corner that imbues the fic with a very romantic, dreamy quality.

the pleasure, the privilege by @being-luminous (M, 20k, complete)

Setting: Canon Divergence – Book 6 Premise: If Voldemort is doused with Amortentia keyed to Harry, and starts sending Harry bizarre and gruesome courting gifts, like the bodies of the Dursleys. Why I rec it: Breathtaking prose! Voldemort somehow ends up more terrifying when he’s trying to woo Harry than when he’s trying to kill him. Every single sentence had me on the edge of my seat, as Voldemort’s ‘gifts’ become more elaborate and devastatingly dramatic, until Harry basically has no choice but to respond to his overtures. The ending is incredibly clever in how it parallels certain plot elements of book 6, with an added Harrymort twist.

The Untouchable by @treacleteacups (M, 75k, complete)

Setting: Canon Rewrite (Books 1-7) Premise: If Harry starts out his first year a little bit more suspicious and a little less wide-eyed and guileless, and subsequently gets sorted into Slytherin. He has many of the same encounters with Voldemort along the way as he does in canon, but his interactions with Voldemort will end up leading him down quite a different path. Why I rec it: A snappy, fast-paced full canon rewrite that still manages to fit in all the essential Tomarrymort plot points, between Horcruxes and Hallows and the major events of books 1-7, in a compact 75k words that doesn’t at all feel rushed. It’s a delightful journey following Harry’s character evolution from an overlooked, peculiar child who relies on wishy-washy wish magic to a confident (and still endearingly peculiar) young man who can challenge and hold his own against the great Lord Voldemort. Voldemort’s obsession with Harry deepens with every encounter that they have, as he finds ways to continually insinuate himself in Harry’s life and his mind and his dreams.

#Tomarrymort Starter Pack #tomarrymort #tomarry #harrymort #aethon recs #tomarry recs #tomarrymort recs #harrymort recs #hp fic recs #longfic recs #ao3 recs #fanfic recs #2023 reads #2023 recs

2K notes · View notes

awritessomething · 11 months ago

Note

Don’t know if you take requests but I really want a fic with Pierre where y/n is a presenter for Sky Sports or something and they start having an affair. Maybe they sleep together after his podium when his gf isn’t in the paddock and then it starts to become and regular occurrence

𝐏𝐨𝐬𝐭-𝐑𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐈𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐢𝐞𝐰𝐬 | pierre gasly x fem!reader

requests

𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆 | Pierre’s girlfriend manages to not be in the paddock for his podium. Someone else steps in to do what she should’ve done.

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 | smut, cheating, swearing, protected sex, straight to the point, dom!pierre, sub!reader, doggystyle, slight degrading, missionary, oral m!receiving, hair pulling, no aftercare.

also yes I do take requests ty for leaving one 🫶

After a long and treacherous race in Zandvoort, Pierre managed to snag third place by 3 seconds. The Alpine team was going insane over his podium as it was the second Alpine podium of the season. He got out of the car as soon as he was free to do so and ran over to his team who were all there to congratulate him.

There wasnt much time between the moment he got out of his car and before the interview that he was about to have to do. There was a younger woman with Sky Sports who was there to work with him. Walking up to him with a smile on her face, she motioned for her cameraman to follow. Pierre turned to her and walked forwards to meet her halfway.

“Good afternoon, Pierre. It was a good race, right?” She asked with a smile. His eyes swept over her quickly, so quickly that it probably wasn’t even all that noticeable to anyone except for her.

“Yes, I mean third is always a good way to end so uh… I’m happy.” Pierre answered with a quick nod. Her eyes narrowed on him for a moment.

“That’s great. Can you tell us a bit about what you had to do?”

“Yeah.” Pierre licked his lips before telling her a bit about what had happened during the race and what he was thinking. She tilted her head slightly as she listened to him talking. Pierre stuttered for a second as he saw how she looked at him.

“Thank you. Congratulations by the way.” They finished up the interview. She glanced back at her cameraman to confirm that they weren’t filming anymore. He nodded and started to walk a bit away to give her some space.

“Did you like the race?” Pierre asked a bit more boldly now that the cameras were away.

“I did. You’re an impressive driver.” She whispered and swayed slightly.

“Thank you.” Pierre kept his voice quiet as well. They both had the same kind of idea as to what they might be doing.

“Of course. So, are you sticking around in Zandvoort for a while longer?”

“Ah, not too much longer. My girlfriend is waiting for me at home I believe.” Her brows raised, feigning surprise. She acted as if she didn’t know that Kika wasn’t there.

“She’s not here tonight?” She tried her best to sound shocked to try and fool Pierre into thinking that she didn’t arrive with these intentions.

“She is not.” He fell for what she was doing for just a moment but then he put it together.

“Too bad.” She tsked softly. “You know, if I was her, I wouldn’t miss a single race. I would want to be there for everything.” She said, shrugging. Pierre raised his brow and smirked.

“Would you be able to?” Pierre was a bit intrigued by this idea. She was a bit surprised that he was actually going along with what she was saying, but she surely wouldn’t be complaining.

“My job is to follow the races. I’m at almost all of them. It would be no problem.” She smiled up at him, a look in his eyes that he could recognize in pretty much any woman. He cleared his throat as someone called his name to go and do his other post-race duties.

“I’ve got to go.” Pierre turned to leave.

“Wait.” She called out. He turned to see her. She reached into her pocket and pulled out her card. “If you think of anything else that i might want to hear about… call me.” She handed it to him. He glanced down at it and then back at her.

“I will. See you.” Pierre held onto the card and then walked away. She watched him go before running off to go and do other interviews with other drivers.

Later that night, around nine at night or so, she was laying in her bed at her hotel. She was on her phone, just scrolling through her phone and occasionally texting a friend or two. There was a call that showed up on her screen from an unknown number. She picked up the phone and put it up to her ear.

“Hello?” She asked, a bit confused as to who would have her number.

“Room 321. Be there in five minutes.” Pierre spoke into the phone. She recognized his voice.

“Ill be there.” That was all she said and then hung up the phone. Everyone with Formula 1 was staying in one hotel. Every team, every media person, they were all in that hotel. Most of the drivers were out partying, but apparently Pierre wasn’t.

She got out of bed, slipped on her shoes and a jacket, and then walked out of her room. She put her hood over her head to hide her face and made her way to room 321. Five minutes later, she was there. Before she could even knock on the door, it was opening and she was being pulled inside.

“Anyone see you?” Pierre asked as he locked the door. She shook her head.

“No. No one.” She breathed out and looked up at Pierre with wide eyes.

“Good.” He muttered and then leaned forwards and kissed her. His stubble was rough against her face but she welcomed the sting. Her hands flew to his hair as he shoved her against the door, already reaching for the bottom of her shirt. “Jump.” He grumbled against her lips and tapped on her thighs. She did as he said and he caught her, holding her by her thighs. Her head fell back as he kissed her neck before tugging off her shirt and unclasping her bra.

“Pierre…” She moaned his name as he nibbled on the sensitive parts of her neck. Her back arched off of the door, chest pressing against his.

“Mhm..?” He hummed, not even pulling away from her for a moment as his lips moved to her breasts, taking one of her nipples into his mouth. She whined and her head fell to the side.

“Condom?”

“In my wallet. I’ll get it in a minute.” He sighed and then took her off of the door and carried her over to his bed. She laid on the bed and tugged off her pants and panties, watching as he took off his own shirt while getting the condom from his wallet.

“You were ready for this?” She teased him lightly. Pierre scoffed.

“You never know.” He smiled and went to take off his belt. She shook her head and moved forwards so she was sitting on the edge of the bed. Her hands went to his belt and she removed it for him, throwing it aside as she pushed down his pants. He stepped out of them, along with his boxers. His breath hitched as he watched her take the condom from his hands and then set it aside.

“Think you can wait for a minute?” She asked, looking up at him. Pierre shrugged. One of her hands went to his cock, stroking him a few times experimentally. His head fell back as he groaned.

He stood in front of her, hands resting on the back of her head as she took him into her mouth. Her eyes met his as she swirled her tongue around his tip before beginning to suck him off. His brows knit together as he closed his eyes. Pierre hadn’t had another woman touch him ever since he started dating his girlfriend. He forgot how good foreign touch could feel.

His hips thrusted towards her mouth and she closed her eyes as tears pricked at the corners of them. He held her head still as he began to fuck her mouth, head falling back as he did. She listened to the sounds that came from the tip of his cock hitting the back of her throat repeatedly. Her nose pressed against his abdomen as he pushed her head down as far as it could go.

With just a few more quick thrusts into her mouth, his cum spurted down her throat. She had her hands holding onto his thighs to stabilize herself as she swallowed around his cock, making him grunt from the odd sensation. Pierre pulled out of her mouth and looked down at her as she coughed.

“You swallow?” Pierre gripped her jaw and made her open her mouth. She opened her mouth and stuck out her tongue. “That’s what I thought.” He gave her cheek a gentle smack as she smiled up at him. He reached down and picked up the condom from beside where she was sitting and ripped the package open. She watched with interest in her eyes as he slid the rubber onto his cock.

He pushed her back onto the bed and then positioned himself over her. He knew he couldn’t really just ram into her, so he reached between their bodies and circled his fingers over her clit for a moment to just make sure she was ready. She gasped as she felt his tip press up against her entrance. Pierre looked into her eyes for a moment but then just decided to watch as he bullied his cock into her hole. A choked moan left her lips as she was almost about to run her hands down his back. He shook his head and pinned her wrists to the bed.

“There can’t be any proof that we did this.” He hissed. She nodded and any other thoughts left her mind as he started to slowly thrust into her. Each drag of his cock inside of her was perfect. Her walls were tight around him, molding to fit his cock perfectly. She could feel each vein, each little part of him.

Pierre pulled his hips back so he was almost pulling out of her completely, and then ramming back into her with more force until he was sure that she was ready. His hands gripped onto her hips as he leaned back. He pulled her hips flush against his. She shuddered.

His thrusts were rough and there was absolutely no sort of romanticism or friendliness in their actions. Just pure lust. Pierre had obviously done this before. The kisses that he had left on her neck had been rough, but not enough to leave any marks whatsoever. The grip he had on her hips was tight, but it was just borderline bruising. He knew how to do it just right. Her eyes rolled back into her head.

Pierre grunted with almost every thrust as he watched it knock the air from her. Her moans were muffled with one of his hands moving to cover her mouth. He wasn’t leaving any chances of them being caught and she wasn’t complaining. If anyone found out that they were having sex, both of their reputations would be destroyed. She would probably lose her job too.

They both knew the risks, but neither seemed to care as they fucked like animals in the hotel room. It must’ve been around 10 at night before the other drivers began to even start returning to the hotel. They were still going at it. His eyes met hers as he fucked himself into her still. She had lost count of how many times he had pushed her over the edge at this point. The only thing that she could see anymore was his muscles flexing in the dark room. The lights were off so that if anyone did manage to come inside, they wouldn’t be able to see what was happening.

Somehow, Pierre hadn’t managed to cum once. His stamina was evident from the long time they were able to go at it. Her cheeks were damp from the tears that had spilled from her eyes. As she was able to notice his thrusts getting a bit messier, she realized that he was nearing his climax as well.

“Fuck- I’m gonna cum.” He groaned out as his hips snapped into hers. Her legs were shaking uncontrollably around his waist. Her eyes met his again in the dark room. Pierre watched how her eyes seemed to widen slightly with each thrust, but then narrowed every time he was pulling back.

With a few more thrusts of his hips against hers, their skin met for the first time in a while. He came into the condom, she could feel the warmth inside of her. She fell over the edge for the final time that night. Pierre continued to buck forwards for a few seconds longer until they had both ridden out their orgasms.

Pierre pulled out of her and reached down, taking off the condom and tying it off before throwing it out. She watched as he did this and then walked across the room to put on a shirt and a pair of sweats. She sat up, catching her breath and running a hand through her hair. Standing up, she walked into the washroom to fix up her appearance. Pierre could be heard rummaging around in the room, opening the door to the balcony to let in some fresh air.

“See you at your next race, Pierre.” She said her goodbyes as she slipped on her clothes again. He nodded at her and then she left the room, heading back to her own.

That was how it all started.

After nearly every race for the rest of the season, they would end up in each others hotel rooms. If Kika wasn’t there, she was in his room. If she was there, he was in hers. It didn’t seem to matter anymore whether she was there or not, they were just always finding a way to be with each other.

After the final race in Abu Dhabi, Pierre found himself standing in front of her again. She had the microphone held up to him.

“Nice to see you again, Pierre. What did you think of the outcome of this last race?” She smiled at him as if their relationship was purely professional. They both hid what happened behind closed doors behind an innocent facade.

“Its not what I had hoped for, but it was a fine race. I’m excited for next season.” Pierre answered, leaning forwards slightly so he was a bit closer to the microphone.

“Of course. Are we expecting a great season from you, Mr. Gasly?” She asked, holding eye contact with him. He nodded.

“It will be a great season for all of us, yes.” He tried his best to sound humble. She laughed quietly at this.

“I’m looking forward to it.” She snickered. “I suppose I’ll see you next year. Congratulations.” The camera shut off and she turned to confirm it. The cameraman nodded as per usual and began to walk off. She raised a brow to silently confirm their plans for later on. He nodded. He walked away.

As expected, that night she found herself in his hotel room. She wasn’t too sure where Kika was, but that wasn’t her biggest worry. According to Pierre, she would be out for pretty much the whole night partying with the other WAGs.

Her face was pushed down into a pillow, muffling her screams as she gripped onto the sheets too. Pierre’s hands gripped onto her hips, pulling her to meet each thrust. He was not too happy with getting 13th on the final race of the season. She could feel that.

Pierre rammed into her from behind, gripping roughly onto her ass, watching how it moved as his hips snapped against it. One hand left her ass to move up her back and to her neck.

“Think you’re gonna be able to stay quiet?” He grunted into her ear as his hand moved into her hair, pulling it back. Her back arched and her eyes rolled back, lip trapped under her teeth. “I’m expecting an answer.” He growled.

“I- can stay quiet.” She choked out quietly. Her chest squeezed as she was fighting back her moans. Pierre nodded. His other hand also left her ass to clamp down over her mouth.

“Dont believe you.” He hummed against her neck. She was pulled back so she was pretty much sitting up straight as he fucked into her. His tip slammed up against her G-spot with nearly every thrust. Her clit throbbed and she sobbed into his hand.

If he was to let go of her hair, she was sure to collapse. That was just what he did. He released his grip on her hair and watched as she fell back onto her face, burying her face into the pillow again. His hand slipped underneath her to rub at her clit.

During their second or third time meeting up at night, Pierre had discovered that he took more pleasure in fucking her than with Kika. He wasn’t sure if it was from the roughness of which they had sex or whether it was the adrenaline that pumped through his veins from the thought of being caught, but something made it better.

His mind when he was fucking his girlfriend often just drifted back to her. He wondered how she might act.

His eyes were locked on the small of her back, watching how it twitched occasionally as he hit her g-spot. Her knuckles were white from how hard she was holding onto the sheets. He was worried for a moment that she may rip them. He didn’t know what he would do about that.

Pierre knew that he wouldn’t be able to last much longer this time. His stamina had seemed to go down over the last while. He could hardly contain himself with her.

As per usual, his thrusts got sloppier and he lost his rhythm. She could feel as he came into the condom once again. She moaned in satisfaction as it pushed her over the edge once more. After a moment of both of them riding out their highs, he pulled out of her again.

“Ill see you in a few months?” She asked as she got off of the bed, stumbling for a moment. Pierre touched her waist to help stabilize her. He didn’t need her getting hurt right then.

“I sure hope so.” Pierre muttered and then passed her the shirt that was now on the ground. She took it from him and slipped it on.

“Bye, Pierre.” She gave him a quick pat on the arm and then pulled on her pants before walking out of the door.

How was he supposed to go months without that?

#pierre gasly #pierre gasly smut #formula1 smut #formula 1 smut #f1 x reader #formula1 #pierre gasly x reader

450 notes · View notes