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gloomwitchwrites · 2 months ago

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Through the Corn

Scare Actor John Price x Female Reader

Content & Warnings: rough oral sex (male receiving), established relationship, primal kink, mask kink, unprotected piv, creampie

Word Count: 1.6k

A/N: Requested by @tintamm for 3.5k Spooky Bingo (Chased Through a Corn Maze)

You visit the corn maze John is temporarily working at as a scare actor. A bit of silly fun turns into a steamy chase in the dark.

ao3 // main masterlist // 3.5k spooky bingo masterlist

This is the event you've been waiting for all year. There isn't anything like it for miles. You've mostly come in support of your boyfriend, John Price, and to experience a good scare.

Black Hallow Interactive Corn Maze, the sign reads at the entrance.

By entering into the Black Hallow Interactive Corn Maze you automatically OPT-IN to our interactive experience.

During October, John enjoys earning extra money by working as a scare actor at different attractions. This is his first year working for a local business and not some large amusement park.

You may be touched, carried, restrained, pushed, pulled, separated, fed, played with, and asked to participate in various activities.

This is the adult corn maze. Something special only on certain nights. John wanted you to come specifically to this event, mostly to see all their hard work, but to also have a bit of fun. You already know what he'll be dressed as, but John is the protective type. He doesn't want anyone else touching you.

At any time if you want to OPT-OUT you can say "BOO" and our actors will stop their interactive experience with you.

Welcome to Black Hallow.

"You're John's woman." The security guard at the front entrance gives you a kind smile.

"I am."

"Said you were coming." He waves you in and then gives you a little salute. "Have fun."

The entrance to the corn maze is narrow, allowing for two people to stand shoulder-to-shoulder but nothing more. As you approach a T-interaction, a scare actor in torn jeans, a plaid button-up, and a stringy blond wig roams the area. Their shoulders and legs jerk about like a roaming zombie, and when you approach, they block the path to the right, forcing you off to the left.

Either John has planned this or you're simply following a direction. He said he would find you. That he'd chase you down.

Out in the country, there isn't any light other than the moon overhead and that which the maze provides. Most of the lights are red and dampened, giving the space a blood-tinged feel. As you walk, the cornstalks sway and move. You hear others in the maze cry out or giggle. A few times, you come across other visitors. One woman is cornered before being lifted up and over a scare actor's shoulder, snatched and separated from her group.

Will John find you like this? Will he corner you? Take you away and do with you what he likes?

As you take a turn, you find a wall of darkness. You cannot see the other end of the corn. No light reaches it. Adrenaline spikes in your gut, creeping up to your chest. For most of the walk, you've been enjoying yourself, but this stirs up a sense of dread.

There is nothing dangerous. Nothing sinister. You are fully aware of this and yet your body's physical response is the exact opposite of what your brain is telling you.

You're swallowed up by the dark. There are no stars, and the moon is currently covered by clouds. Every step forward only increases the creeping anxiety. Your heart thunders in your chest, drowning out all noise.

Something brushes against your right side. You jerk away from the sensation, knocking into corn stalks on your left.

Have you strayed that far over?

You reach out, attempting to find your bearings and a sense of direction. Moving left puts you into the corn. Moving right is open air and—

A large, muscled arm wraps around your waist. A scream claws up your throat, but before it emerges, a hand clamps over your mouth, stifling your cry. Something long and slightly hooked brushes against the side of your face, the tip catching on the front of your jacket. Instinct drives you. Reaching up to touch it, you find no blade or any sharpened weapon.

It's a mask. A plague doctor's mask.

John.

The hand over your mouth slowly descends, resting against the front of your throat. The grip is firm but not painful. It’s a show of dominance and a command for submission. You're drawn against a warm body and hardness.

"That you, John?"

There is a brief stretch of silence before his familiar husky voice answers. "Ready to run, love?"

You nod and John releases you. "Go," he whispers, and you take off.

As you charge forward, you're not sure if John is following. The darkness is almost absolute and you crash headlong into the corn before stumbling backward and righting yourself.

Turning left, you move ahead, only to emerge into a red-lit area with stacked hay. They create natural barriers, and the perfect place for anyone to hide behind. But John is behind you. Your path is clear.

As you navigate around the stacks, a figure steps out from behind the final row. John's silhouette is unmistakable. The plague doctor mask is only confirmation.

You come to halt, nearly slipping as your shoe catches on some flattened corn. Walking backward and away from John's casual stroll, you bump into a stack of hay. It's sturdy, and doesn't topple forward, but it startles you all the same.

You glance away from John for a moment—a single second. When you return your attention to him, you find the space completely empty. Spinning in a circle, you realize you're alone, at least to the naked eye.

John could still be watching somewhere in the dark. Tentatively, you make your way forward and into another stretch of empty corn. This area lacks light, but the clouds move at the perfect moment, revealing a dark figure at the other end before another turn.

John's masked head tilts to the side. There are shrieks and screams from somewhere behind you. Going forward is the only option.

You start slowly, creeping forward. John remains perfectly still until the last possible second. He lunges, and you step to the side, shrieking, running for all your worth. John follows, easily keeping pace. You are no match for his endurance even as you truly attempt to outpace him. The thrill pumping through your blood is thunderous. You're no longer scared, just excited.

You want John to catch you.

A few more turns in the corn and a fist grabs the back of your jacket. You're yanked to a stop, crashing into John as he hauls you against him. The plague mask is pushed up, at least enough for him to bend you backwards a bit and claim your mouth with a possessive kiss. Heat shoots right through you, swirling downwards toward your pussy.

You groan against his mouth, and John answers with one of his own. Your lips part and his tongue slides inside. You suck on it, giving it a light nip. John's grip on you tightens, and then you're being forced to your knees.

With one hand on the back of your head and the other undoing the front of his pants, you watch with eagerness as he reveals his hardness to you. Eagerly, you open your mouth, surrendering to his control, and the way he fucks your throat. Your mouth is full of him, and your eyes water from the intrusion. The two of you might be in the dark but you're out in the open. The thrill of potentially getting caught is its own addiction.

Placing one hand against his thigh, you anchor yourself, even as John controls the movement of your head. The knees of your jeans will surely be stained, but it's worth it. It's worth watching John's head tip back in pleasure as he forces your mouth to take all of him.

Relaxing your throat, you urge him on with soft sighs of pleasure. His fingers tighten, and then he's holding you in place, your lips nearly touching his pelvis as he finishes down your throat.

You swallow every drop, and when he withdraws, you keep your mouth open.

"Tongue out,” he growls.

You do so and John hums with approval. With his hand on the back of your neck, John draws you back to standing. A hint of moonlight illuminates his eyes. They are soft as his thumb brushes over your bottom lip.

"Run," he murmurs, readjusting the mask.

You languidly back away and John shakes his head as he starts after you.

You don't make it far. A few corners and then John is dragging you into the corn itself. He undoes and shoves your jeans down to your knees before guiding you down on all fours.

Amongst the dirt and corn, John breeds you. Each thrust is rough and intense, skin slapping against skin in the dark. You bury your face in the crook of your elbow, stifling your moans as best you can. People rush by, yelling and screeching as actors chase them through the flattened corn.

None of them notice you.

John's grunts are muted behind the mask, but his hands are harsh, fingers digging into your skin, holding on like you'll disappear. You'll be filthy when he's through with you. Not only messy between your legs but covered dirt-strained and sweaty.

His steady thrusting becomes erratic, a sign of his end. Your pussy flutters and clenches, squeezing around him, pleasure surging upward in a wave of bliss. Your orgasm is intense and you have to bite down on your own arm to stifle the moan.

John holds you tightly against him, his release exploding, flooding your pussy. The two of you linger like this before he slips out. John presses two fingers to your sex. They slide through the mess.

He drags you up, flattening your back against his front. Those two cum-coated fingers drag over your lips, forcing them open. You suck them clean, satiated.

When they pop wetly from your mouth, you twist to look at him, and you're greeted with his lips on yours. These kisses are languid. Sweet.

"Up for one more chase?"

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yourstrqly · 10 months ago

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✰ POSITIONS, F1 DILFS

[ starring ] sebastian vettel, kimi räikkönen, fernando alonso, jenson button, lewis hamilton, kevinmagnussen

[ tw ] fem!reader, smut (+18), dom!drivers, mention of sex toys and tapes, dirty talking, fem and male oral receiving (+ choking on dick)

. minors do not read .

sebastian enjoys sitting back to watch you play with yourself, be it your dainty fingers buried deep inside your pussy and coated in your juices, or the dildo, the copy of his cock, he had gifted you months ago when he was away; the sight of the grip your greedy pussy has on the plastic phallus and your body writhing in the sheets, whorish moaning his name to pled for relief, thighten his trousers but rather than bouncing you, feeling your tight little satch, he leans forward, breath fawning onto your wet tights, resulting in goosebumps.

you'd cry out silently, legs shaking as you ram the toy faster into your warmth. "what did you say, liebe? (love) care to repeat?", the man would ask, his rough hands grabbing your thick tights. "want my big dick inside you? fuck you till you can't remember your name and see stars no more, huh?", he'd taunt you with a massive smirk on his pinkish lips. "that what you would like, don't you, my dirty girl?"

kimi prefers on being hands on, having you knee in front of him to suck him off. tears have already escaped your eye and stained your hallowed cheeks, while his right hand sits at the back of your head, hair kept in a ponytail to manage the speed and the desired depth. your glossy eyes holding contact with his lustfilled gaze and the choking sounds as well as the moans that send off vibrations around his dick, makes him pull your face against his pelvic bone to deep throat him. the tightness of your wet mouth let's his cock throb slightly, the taste of salty pre cum hits your tongue once again.

slowly, kimi would face fuck you, forcing your lips to touch his pelvic whenever he pulls your head towards him, forcing your jaw to go slack and take his long cock all the way as saliva runs out of the corners of your stretched mouth, trailing down your tits and eventually hitting the carpet. "you love being my good girl, eh? then choke on it."

nando loves to grab your plump ass whilst hugging you whenever it is in public or in the privacy of a room — if his action is made in the later situation, the innocence of his touch quickly turns into nibbling playfully on your ear and neck, leaving small marks to show his claim of you. his finger would dip inside your clothing to touch your already wet pussy, gently brushing past the outer lips to rub your clit, which will transform you into mush against his body. wanting to eat you out, nando would lay you down on the bed if there is one, probing pillows under your hips to get an easy access to your wetness. he's godsend, festing on your pussy as it would be his last time, resulting in leaving you a breathless moaning puddle of a mess. "please don't stop, papi."

jenson would be the guy who'd twirl, pull and nib on your stiff nibbles as you stroke his growing dick whilst watching a sex tape of yourselves to get in the right zone. in his opinion its one of the easiest ways to set the mood; watching a homemade video of him plowing inside you from behind against a hotel wall or having you cuffed on the bedframe, fucking your little hole hard as you cum over and over again — he'll feel your breath stock whenever his recorded self hits your g-spot or lands a spank on your brightly coloured ass, and the slick of your snatch drips on his leg, that's between yours, rubbing over your cunt.

"in another life, you'd be a pornstar, darling", jense would whisper in your ear as he moves above you, running the fat leaking head of his cock against your awaiting pussy.

lewis would have you in sixty-nine, tongue tracing the rim of your snatched hole as you kitten-lick off the precum of his massive dick and nibble softly on a bold vein, chasing a groan out of the fit male. as soon as you reach past the half, he'll push his cock upwards, causing you to choke on his dick — his less dominating hand keeps your head down as his other hand sinks two fingers at the same time inside you roughly, sending you over the edge, a process he continues over again till you tap his thight two times.

"fucked you good, huh?"

kevin likes nothing more than seeing you completely relaxed and giggling during a session of soft, romantic sex; it's his favourite way to return to a relaxed state of mind after a race and running behind his small children. he'll have you ride him though he'd control the pace while pressing your face against his neck to feel you sucking kisses against it. whenever kevin would push hard upwards inside you, he'd hear you purr like a catita or moan, rambling about how he should just throw you down and fuck you, but this will just result in his next pushes slower, teasing you to show you who's the "boss".

POLY/MULTI DRIVERS — SINGULAR DRIVERS

#f1 smut #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #sebastian vettel smut #kimi räikkönen smut #fernando alonso smut #jenson button smut #sebastian vettel x reader #kimi räikkönen x reader #fernando alonso x reader #jenson button x reader #lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton smut #kevin magnussen smut #kevin magnussen x reader #f1

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fayes-fics · 4 months ago

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The Secrets We Keep: Pt I

Part II >>

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader

Summary: Knowing someone your whole life doesn’t mean they can’t surprise you…

Warnings: none yet… fluff and angst. Childhood friends, yearning, arranged marriage, kissing. Pt II will contain a warning/rating change.

Word Count: 5.1k (this part)

Authors Note: Part 1 of 2. My longest gestating WIP! It’s been more than 18 months since I received a request for this secret diary fic. Tulip Anon, I have no idea if you still follow me, but I hope you think I did your detailed request justice. I won't post your ask yet, as it contains spoilers for the second half. Betaed by the awesome @colettebronte, who I can’t thank enough. I’m in the process of writing Pt II, so there will be a gap between instalments. Enjoy! 🫶

-i-

For as long as you can remember, you have loved one man secretly. To the point that you cannot imagine your life without a deep, burning affection simmering in your very core, as fundamental to your existence as drawing air into your lungs.

Benedict Bridgerton.

Your families have been neighbours in Mayfair and Kent for many generations—two aristocratic dynasties that, despite enduring friendships, have never seen intermarriage. There have been attempted matches down the years, according to family lore, but nothing came to fruition.

So when you were brought to Aubrey Hall as a mere babe in arms, the eldest daughter, there were many good-natured jokes that Anthony’s future wife had been born. But the Viscount, wonderful as he is, was not the man who stole your heart just a few short years later. A bright sunny day in June that you suspect Benedict may not even be able to recall, but you can with perfect clarity, even now, some fifteen years later.

He picked you as the first person to join his team for a round of garden games. Paying you heed and ensuring you were included, patiently showing you the ropes and applauding your achievements, ignoring the ridicule from the other twelve-year-old boys for letting a girl - and a little five-year-old at that - join in their games.

Ever since that day, all you have ever seen is his enormous heart and steadfast empathy: always the one to reach out to those excluded, to be supportive, and to love harder and more expansively than his siblings. Thus, unsurprisingly, he became the focus of your singular devotion—a childish adoration transmuting into something more profound and complicated as you matured.

On your fourteenth birthday, your mother gifted you a thick notebook. And it became your refuge, the private canvas on which you outlet your innermost secrets and thoughts. The beautiful but now slightly battered, silk-covered tome is still your most treasured possession even now, more than six years later, so close to filled now, with only a couple of blank pages left. Never long from your hands, but when it must be, carefully stashed under the floorboards of your bedroom. Its pages the reflection of a naive, growing heart. There is one person who features frequently on its crammed, jumbled pages. Sketches of his handsome face, mostly from memory, interspersed with ardent notes and poems that, while they may not mention his name, are written for him. Adoration writ large in every pen and pencil stroke.

Little were you to know that the secrets you keep within its hallowed pages would one day alter the course of your life…

-ii-

It's the evening of the Bridgerton Ball, and usually, you would be brimming with anticipation for such an occasion, a chance to see the man who holds your most ardent admiration. Instead, you find yourself glum, mechanically stepping into the dress your ladies' maid Rachel assists you with, staring blankly into the vanity mirror as she adorns your hair with jewels. Still reeling from your father's shocking announcement the previous day.

The inheritance of a European title had seen him spend eighteen months abroad. In his absence last spring, you were able to persuade your more indulgent mother to delay your societal debut—a yearning to be free in the ways you know no woman really can be for long. A compounding factor was spending the summer in the Highlands with her sister, your Aunt Eliza, a spirited, independent woman who taught you many things and encouraged your artistic whims. And when you were back in London, your mother’s somewhat inattentive running of the house meant you were often able to slip away in the evenings, spending your time deepening your passion for art. Frequenting galleries and conversing with artists led to you being drawn into the bohemian, artsy underbelly of Bloomsbury, a beguiling, exotic contrast to Mayfair. Another secret you keep.

Upon his return to England, your father was not best pleased to learn that not only had you been allowed to skip the previous Season, but Eliza had also taught you to fish, fence and hunt—most unladylike pursuits in his opinion. He, therefore, made it his mission to ensure not only would you debut this year but also a swift match should be made, lest you “get other fanciful, dangerous ideas”.

Perhaps that is why, yesterday, nary two weeks into your first season, he abruptly announced over afternoon tea that he had secured a match for you and the man in question would be dining with you all that evening. A deal no doubt brokered in a private gentleman’s club as if you were merely chattel to be traded.

Revulsion filled your every fibre as you were introduced to Lord Farringdon a few hours later. A wiry man twenty years your senior with a hawk-like countenance and a disdainful disposition. Apparently, a brilliant intellectual mind but accompanied by a mercurial, malevolent reputation. You had read in Whistledown rumours about his mistreatment of his household staff and his previous wife. A forlorn figure who became a recluse long before she died of consumption tragically young. The idea of being betrothed to this cold, abusive man turned your stomach—a seemingly outsized punishment for your rebellion. Once the man left, you had begged and pleaded with your father to reconsider the arrangement, but sadly, your appeal fell on deaf ears.

And so here you are. Going to a ball at which your father plans to announce your engagement. The stately beauty of Bridgerton House is not as heartening of a sight as it typically is. Tonight, it feels more akin to a gallows.

As soon as you arrive, you are scanning the crowds for the only friend you know will understand just how ghastly your predicament is—Eloise Bridgerton. A kindred spirit whose interest in marriage is as scant as your own. Bonding over your similar yearnings for freedom, you have been good friends since you were little, many a day spent together as children running through the Kentish fields, escaping expectation and flouting convention.

Acutely aware of time running out until your father speaks up, you fiddle distractedly with your fan, impatiently awaiting her entrance.

“For heaven's sake, y/n, please cease your fidgeting!” your mother chastises under her breath, snatching away the item. “I do not see why you are so agitated. Tonight is to be a wonderful occasion for you!”

A myriad of caustic comments are on the tip of your tongue, but you swallow them down. The last thing you want is to draw attention, and you certainly don't want to be gossip fodder; these ballrooms are a veritable hotbed of eavesdropping if Whistledown is anything to go by.

When the collective Bridgerton family finally enter their ballroom as hosts, however, your eyes can't help but drift to Benedict instead. A reflex from years of longing, even though it is his sister, arm looped into his, whose counsel you seek tonight. You excuse yourself to fetch a lemonade as soon as you spy a window of opportunity—Eloise standing alone, looking excessively bored. Abandoning your glass, you hurry over to her.

“I have news…” You try to keep your voice neutral but grab her arm and practically drag her away from anyone within earshot.

“Well, it cannot be good if you are willing to rip my arm off to impart it,” she remarks dryly as you lead her down a hallway.

“It is not,” you pull a face that you know will convey to her the gravity of what you need to divulge.

With a nod of understanding and a look to a nearby footman, she leads you beyond him into an area of the house off-limits for guests.

“Tell me…” her tone is sincere as she ushers you into the library and closes the door.

“My father has seen fit to arrange a marriage for me. He is planning to announce it tonight, right here at your family ball!”

She says nothing, only a sympathetic noise as she pulls you into a consoling hug. The emotions you have been tamping down for hours escape as a couple of bitter tears, her arms banding tight around you. You are not sure how long, but you stand in a hug, just grateful for her steadfast support.

“What am I to do?” you whisper.

“I do not know,” she confesses. “Have you tried to reason with your father?”

“A hopeless cause…”

Her mouth twists in understanding, knowing you will have put up a spirited defence as much as she would have. She detangles from you and goes to a nearby brandy decanter.

“It's the very least you deserve, frankly,” she points out, handing you a glass and pulling you into a loveseat with her, wrapping an arm around your shoulder, clinking her glass against yours in a silent but bittersweet toast about your seemingly futile situation.

-iii-

Half an hour later, your parents are distracted across the far side of the room with friends when a large hand grabs yours out of the blue. You startle when you realise it is Benedict, your heart suddenly in your mouth. Before you know it, you are wordlessly being pulled out of the French doors behind you and into the night air.

“Where are we going!?” you demand when you recover from the initial surprise, his gloved hand tugging yours along through the darkened gardens.

“Shh, make haste, we must not be seen,” he hushes you but keeps moving, furtive and fast, your feet having to take extra steps to keep up with his long stride over the lush, dewy grass.

“Benedict…” you try again once you round a thick hedge into the rose garden. “What is going on?”

He slows a little but does not relinquish his tight hold. Gravel path now crunching under his boots as the honeyed scent of damask hangs heavy in the air.

“Eloise told me,” is all he offers. “So we are escaping.”

“W-we are?” you stutter, frowning, a claggy tumult behind your ribs at his use of ‘we’.

“Yes! Or at least we would be if you would keep quiet… please…” he amends, sounding a touch contrite about his initial brusqueness, but speeding up again, headed straight for a small wooden door in a high stone wall, almost hidden behind long, draping ropes of ivy, glowing silver in the moonlight.

When you reach it, he releases his grip on your hand and shoulders the door open with considerable force. The weathered wood creaks loudly, almost splintering under the duress. He signals to the inky blackness of the deserted mews behind Bridgerton House.

“It is now or never, y/n,” he warns as you look back at the house, lit up with the life of the ball inside. “So what is your choice?”

He may be presenting it as an option, but really, you know there would only ever be one answer. You would accompany him to the ends of the earth if he so much as asked. And so wordlessly, you step through the doorway and into the narrow street beyond.

“Good choice,” he compliments as he follows suit and closes the door behind him. “You may stay at my friend Granville’s tonight,” he offers sagely, “I have not seen him in a while, but I will explain when we arrive; I am certain he can provide shelter.”

“Benedict, I already know Henry… Quite well, in fact.”

He looks taken aback as if it had not occurred to him that you may move in the same clandestine circles as he does. To be fair, you have always been discreet in your outings, and it’s not something you have divulged to anyone, including Eloise. Still, what confounds you more is why he is suddenly so seemingly invested in seeing you escape from your predicament. It doesn't entirely make sense.

“Well, then,” he cuts into your brief reverie, “you know Henry is a generous host and discreet about the affairs of others. Your father will not come looking for you there. It will buy some time to figure out what to do next. To ensure your freedom.”

“Freedom?” You scoff. “Benedict, as much as I may wish it, there is no other path open to me. Tonight is merely a delay tactic at best. The only way to stop my father’s pursuit of this union is if I marry another….”

The admittance of this truth out loud makes you restless, belatedly realising that it truly is your only way out. You stalk towards the main road, the faint glow of the street lamp guiding your way over the cobbles. You soon hear Benedict’s footsteps behind.

“That is ridiculous!” he exclaims as he attempts to catch up with you. “There are other options available to you…”

“Such as?” you whip around, raising your hands, countering his assertion. When he falters, you return to walking, throwing a tart addition over your shoulder: “Unlike you, a man, I do not have the freedom of choice.”

“You should always have a choice…” he counters earnestly, still catching up to your furious pace.

“Should and do are different things, Benedict. You do not even know how lucky you are!” You add bitterly, rounding onto the main street.

A gust of wind causes you to pause and a shiver to run down your arms, your gauzy dress not enough to ward off the unseasonable chill in the air tonight. Ever the observant gentleman, Benedict shucks his jacket and wraps it around your shoulders. Uncharitably, your ire makes you attempt to shake it off, even while knowing it is intended purely as a chivalrous gesture. You are surprised when he seems to grasp your shoulders tighter, holding the heavy velvet in place. It is cloaked in his woodsy, citrus scent, your vexed state turning into an entirely different type of flush as he crowds closer to you.

“My birth has allowed me certain privileges, I concede,” he replies, his stare seemingly far away as you are unable to look anywhere but the dampness of his bottom lip, shimmering slightly in the lamplight. Then he tilts his head down to meet your eyes. “But that does not mean I am able to have everything I wish for in life, y/n…”

Your tongue burns to ask what it is that he wants but cannot have, yet you do not allow yourself to pry. But seeing the wistfulness in his gaze deflates your irritation, your long-held adoration for this man taking over, making you sigh.

‘You deserve the world, Benedict….’

His face morphs into one of breathtaking intensity, and you realise, horrified, you spoke those thoughts aloud.

“As do you, y/n,” he murmurs, eyes sincere, your heart beating wildly as his chest vibrates against your own.

The upheaval of the last day, the man you secretly adore abetting a somewhat daring escape, your heated exchange of words, the lateness of the hour, and the feel of his tall, lithe body pressed against yours…. It's all a dangerous cocktail that culminates in you being utterly impetuous, pushing up onto your tiptoes and mashing your mouth against his with no thought.

His lips are plush and warm, and suddenly, he is kissing you back. It's like a cannon firing in your chest as his warm mouth opens yours. Suddenly, you are urgently taking from each other. A sweeping tidal wave through you obliterates any kissing experiences you have ever had before. It’s a desperate slide of tongues, a passionate continuation of your sparring. His hands are like a hot brand through your thin dress as they sweep around to your back, tugging you into him, his heat, scent and taste overwhelming.

But all too soon you are pulling apart, a need for air in your lungs overriding the spontaneous, reckless moment. For a few seconds, you stare at each other, breathing each other's panted air, hands still grasping onto each other, almost confused by what just occurred… until the whinny of a passing horse carriage has you springing apart as if burned.

Realisation engulfs his entire being. “Oh god! Please, please forgive me!” he stutters, backing away, holding his hands out in a conciliatory gesture, almost tripping in his haste to put space between you, even though it was you who kissed him. “Please, just go to Granville,” he counsels rapidly before turning heel and disappearing into the night, leaving you standing alone, unmoored and breathless, utterly turned upside down.

-iv-

You drift home in a daze, your family’s London residence only a few hundred yards away. Your escape plans are forgotten in the haze of tumbling thoughts about that blistering kiss. How fervently and immediately Benedict had kissed you back, how wonderful it felt to be caged in his arms…. Climbing into bed and passing out, still bewildered. In fact, it’s only the rude awakening of your bedroom door slamming open the following morning that brings you crashing back to your senses.

“WHAT IS THE MEANING OF THIS?!” Your father roars, holding aloft what looks like the latest copy of Whistledown. “You have brought shame upon our family and likely ruination to your prospects!!”

Utterly alarmed, you sit bolt upright, blinking, taking a few moments before you can find your voice. “What are you referring to, father?”.

He glares at you, then throws the paper onto your bed and stalks out of the room without another word, puce with outrage. You know there will be crossed words at the breakfast table. The sight of your name on the crisp ivory page immediately draws your eye, and your stomach plunges as you read the paragraph:

The annual Bridgerton Ball last night was, once again, resplendent. A triumph that the dowager Countess can be rightfully proud of. Although less contentment could likely be gleaned from the behaviour of her offspring. The second eldest of whom was allegedly seen escaping into the unlit gardens hand in hand with none other than the most reluctant of this season's debutantes, the spirited Miss Y/n Y/l/n. Perhaps the rebellious Miss will not have to endure many more of society’s events that she so patently abhors, should a proposal from the most wayward of Bridgerton sons be forthcoming? I, for one, however, Dear Reader, am not holding my breath…

Hiding in your room as long as you can, hunger drives you to join the frosty lunch table, apologising for inadvertently ruining your father’s plans to announce your betrothal and meekly explaining the incident with Benedict as a complete misunderstanding. It was merely an old friend helping you to gather some air before the big news was to be proclaimed. His taking your hand was out of benevolent concern, nothing more, and when you suddenly felt unwell, he chivalrously saw you the few hundred yards home. The lies feel odd on your tongue, your thoughts only of Benedict’s mouth and body moulded hotly to yours as your father lectures about appropriate behaviour for a young lady and your family’s long-standing friendship with the Bridgertons not being an excuse for a lackadaisical attitude to impropriety.

“There is nothing else to be done now—I must secure you a special licence to be wed tomorrow before Lord Farringdon hears about this,” he decrees with finality, his tone brokering no argument.

You slump silently into your chair, dread creeping through every cell, silently chastising yourself for not following Benedict’s advice and running away. If only you hadn't been impetuous and kissed him, you might have been in your right mind to do so. It feels cruel that the one moment you chose to throw caution to the wind is the one moment that sealed a worse fate.

-v-

That afternoon, your mother ushers you to the Modiste, paying handsomely for a very rushed wedding dress. Something simple that can be finished at such a late hour. It will only be your family in attendance anyway; so much else seems unnecessary. As you stand forlornly upon the raised dias, ivory silk tacked up around you with pins; your mother announces she needs to depart to secure other last-minute arrangements, leaving your trusty ladies' maid to accompany you home once alterations are complete.

“You do not look a happy bride…” Madam Delacroix mutters after the tinkle of the bell above the door signals her departure.

“Your observation skills are certainly not lacking,” you respond quietly, craning to double-check that Rachel, your maid, is out of earshot, sitting listlessly in the front of the store, staring out of the window.

“I do read Whistledown, my dear,” she remarks delicately, “and this does not appear to be a dress someone marrying a Bridgerton would wear.”

Your stomach vaults at the implication; the thought of marrying Benedict has your heart going haywire, even as you know it would never happen. The crestfallen look as your mind flits to the awful man you will be marrying instead is one you cannot hide as she meets your eyes in the reflection.

“It is not indeed,” you sigh, “but Whistledown has rather accelerated my unfortunate fate. Hence the rushed dress…” you gesture to your outfit.

“Mr Bridgerton is a friend?” she digs delicately.

“Lifelong,” you admit, “but Lady Whistledown could not have been more erroneous in her assertions…”

“That you and Mr Bridgerton are together? Or that he would marry you?”

You look away from the mirror and down to where she is crouched by your hem on your left side, taken back not only at her astuteness but her drive for information. Almost as if she were Whistledown herself.

“I do not mean to pry,” she modifies, “merely to understand your predicament. Maybe I can be of assistance? I have privately counselled many a young lady on the eve of their wedding. Be it a happy occasion or not. And have kept many a secret of the Ton. ‘Tis the reason my business is so successful, Miss y/l/n. A good modiste can be a trusted confidante.”

“W-we are not together,” you stumble out without meaning to.

“But you wish to be? Or perhaps something has happened between you?”

Your eyes dart furtively, and your cheeks heat at the memory, but you say nothing.

“You need say no more,” she chuckles and offers a knowing smile that appears as much reminiscent as sympathetic.

You rapidly attempt to deflect. “I do not wish to be married to anyone, really. I do find it so unfair a man is free to pursue his passions in life, but merely due to my sex, I am not.”

There is a nod of understanding, and she stands up with her hands on her hips. “I keep a certain array of refreshments for special clients such as yourself.” She nods to what looks like a liquor cabinet partially obscured behind a curtain at the back of her shop. “If you can dismiss your maid, I can assist you on your last night as an unmarried lady.”

The suggestion is too intriguing to refuse. And Rachel will greatly appreciate your pin money.

A few hours later, you are sat upon a circular conversation chair, Gen, as she insists you call her, pouring you another snifter of brandy.

“Tell me, what is your passion?” she inquires, her polished French accent slipping a little, sounding far more East End than Parisian. Something about that makes you like her more.

“Art,” you answer wistfully, “not that I have many opportunities to practice beyond a private notebook. But it is my most prized possession.” You gesture to your pelisse, hanging on a nearby hook. “I have it with me always. I have sewn a secret pocket into all of my coats myself.”

“Ingenious! ” She declares. “You shall have my job one day!”

You laugh, feeling light for the first time in what feels like days, as Gen leans in, raising an eyebrow. “I can also see well why you may have bonded with Mr Bridgerton…”

You giggle and lower your eyes, taking a fortifying sip.

“But it is not just that, is it?” Her tone is thoughtful, delicate even, as she continues: “A life outside the boundaries of so-called polite society can be so very beguiling, can it not? I have seen you, Miss y/l/n, at parties in Bloomsbury…”

A panicked bile rises as your head snaps up.

“As I said before, I am always discreet,” she reassures, “your secret is more than safe with me,” she winks before taking a generous sip from her glass.

Possibly, it's the alcohol, but her understanding of your predicament and the fact she has, unbeknownst to you, moved in similar circles brings an odd sense of relief. Having a confidante, someone to finally share your secrets with, albeit a somewhat stranger, lifts a burden from your shoulders. Wonderful as Eloise is, being the sister of the man who secretly holds your heart is not without complications in many ways.

“Another?” she chimes animatedly, holding aloft the bottle.

You cannot resist that offer.

-vi-

It’s close to midnight when Gen loops her arm in yours as she guides you, quite inebriated herself, away from the hackney cab to the familiar abode of one Henry Granville. Her declaration that a party is what you need on your last night of freedom is definitely not one you would dispute. A myriad of heightened emotions roil inside as you await the door being answered: contentment at your newly cemented friendship with Gen, bewildered every time you think of your kiss with Benedict and abhorrence for tomorrow.

As you wander into the debauched tableau of a party in full swing: the air thick with smoke and merriment, the sounds of pleasure, people consorting together, a hedonistic swirl of self-expression unfurling all around you—it all consolidates into a yen to be reckless. Take part this time rather than just observe as you have before. Alcohol mutating the simmering rage about the injustice of your circumstance into a yearning to experience pleasure, especially physical. To get lost in sensation on your one last night of liberty.

So when you encounter Sir Simms - Matthew - friend to your older brother, renowned rake, but quite handsome, you throw caution to the wind. He seems delighted to see you, instantly flirtatious and familiar in a way you would rebuff any other night but this one. Whispering in your ear how very bold you are to be at such a bohemian event and pondering what other adventurous experiences you might be willing to indulge in. At one point Gen pulls you aside, her breath sweetened with fermented fruits, as she leans in and counsels you to be cautious. But you rebuff her concerns, swatting away her hold and returning to Matthew, allowing him to pull you into a kiss.

It’s not the same as with Benedict; your mind screams at the altogether more jarring experience. A wet invasion of tongue that is less pleasant and certainly doesn’t fire anything inside you the way that he had. Merely kindling a defiant resolve to rage against the dying light of your freedom. And so when he slurs into your ear, you consent to his invitation upstairs, knowing fully the implications of what will transpire—feeling vaguely detached from yourself as he pulls you along by the hand towards the staircase.

Suddenly, your field of vision is filled with dark blue velvet, a strong arm wrapping around you, caging you into a warm body mass, disconnecting your hand from Matthew’s—crossed words in two male voices. A momentarily confusing blur that only begins to make sense when you tilt your chin up… and the breath is quite stolen from your lungs.

Benedict.

At first, it feels like a cruel mirage, the man you most desire here to stymie your last gamble at impulsivity. His hold is strong as you sense Matthew shrink away, defeated by Benedict’s threat to expose some dalliance or other. But as he whisks you to an empty room within the house, all you feel bubbling up is anger.

“Stop trying to rescue me!” you rail, reeling out of his grip and stamping your foot to emphasise your point, uncaring that you may be behaving more akin to a petulant toddler.

“Stop making foolish decisions!” he lobbies back after a fleeting wounded look.

You glare at him momentarily before turning your back and staring out of the window into the inky blackness of Granville’s garden, frustration prickling a tear in the corner of your eye.

Behind you, there is a sigh; then his voice turns softer. “Why did you not follow my advice? I came here this morning only to be informed you never arrived…”

That he came to check on you weakens your bluster, although you still have no earthy idea why, once again, he is so invested in your actions. But you are not done saying your piece.

“What does it matter now?” you bite bitterly before spinning around to face him. “Benedict, we are in Whistledown. My father would have arranged a special licence for tomorrow regardless of whether I had come here or not…”

“He did what?” he splutters, shock almost choking the words.

You square your shoulders and cross your arms defensively. “I am to be married in the morning. 11am at St George’s.” When all he offers is floored silence, you uncharitably dig the knife in. “No thanks to you...”

Your words are like a body blow, a world of hurt in his quiet tone as he stares at the ground. “I was only trying to help.”

Regret floods your every cell; why you would choose to lash out at him, even you don't know—so many conflicting feelings and strong liquor coursing through you.

“Please… let me return to the party,” you sigh wearily, after a beat, gesturing to his blocking your exit from the room.

“You would regret what you were about to do until your dying day,” he attests, lifting his head, a vein on his forehead pulsing as his jaw tenses.

“Perhaps,” you shrug. “But that is my burden to endure, not yours.”

“I am your friend,” he frowns, “I will always want to alleviate your burdens…”

“I do not want a friend, Benedict, not tonight. I want a beau.” If you aimed to shock him, you are successful; a cavalcade of expressions warring on his face as you plough on. “So please move so that I may continue with my most inadvisable plan….”

“No.” It's soft but unequivocal, resolute.

When you realise he is not going to budge, you throw your hands up in exasperation. “What do you want from me, Benedict?”

There is a gruff noise in the back of his throat, and then, with two determined strides, he is pressed up against you, his breath hot on your face. Then he is kissing you, ferociously, wantonly, opening your mouth with his, his hands encircling your waist and pulling you roughly into him.

And you are lost.

masterlist • wips • taglist (follow this blog to be tagged)

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anantaru · 10 months ago

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ayato + a soul sucking blowjob

synopsis. ayato was tired, fatigued and frustrated. arriving home from work shortly after to get finally spoiled by you <3

cw. oral (male! receiving), flustered ayato, fem! reader

you can easily discern certain noises in your place, or specific emotions you feel when you hear them. serving as an illustration— look at when the quick chime of the door being unlocked sparks over your eardrums. what's more, you remember that it's like an unwinding lullaby to you, when ayato lastly arrives home after a long day at work.

the high-priced material of his shoes made a rhythmic click as he walked, which then echoed through the living room when the yashiro commissioner crossed the dinner table to walk towards the couch— nothing else in his mind other than the cloying anticipation to feel you in his arms.

each footfall was unevenly separated from the last and clearly indicating fatigue, no rhythm in them at all. you note that your boyfriend must be utterly tired from his long day, quite spent as he ultimately reaches over to greet you before adjusting his pants to sit down.

"how was your day?" you kindly ask, your smile rumbling with a welcoming affection as you place one hand on top of his muscular thigh, "everything ran smoothly... not to worry," the man assures you after a moment of hesitation.

if there was something entirely true about kamisato ayato— it's that his honesty towards his beloved would only include the details he deemed for you to be okay to know. you were aware of that and really didn't mind, although sometimes you wished you could smooth over the secrets he's forced to carry with himself and make it a little easier.

chewing briefly on his lower lip, ayato searches for your trace, his hands slowly slipping between your legs to rub over the inside of your thigh as he gently exhales through his parted mouth, the clouded sight on his face accentuating his immense attractiveness.

"you look tired, baby," you note, squeezing his thigh, a sensual chime melting on the tip of your tongue when you move as slowly as the petals of a flower opening, silently kissing his cheek before pointing towards the obvious tent in his trousers.

"or… do you want me to take care of this?"

"you— you mustn't trouble yourself with it, i—," ayato ponders out loud, glancing awkwardly to everywhere but your face.

he didn't even realize that he's gotten a little too excited to see you tonight. this hasn't happened in ages and only served as an additional indicator that there was more to the frustration inside of him than he originally let on.

swiftly, and with a touch of silk, you unravel every sharp edge of his strong bravado— and the tension rises beneath the layers of garments he wore, a slight hue of embarrassment catching onto his pale skin.

"i'm just so happy to finally see you, 'cannot control it, i apologize."

his pure admittance coupled with his flustered expressions burns into your heart like liquid gold as he laps over his lips softly when you smile back at him, ready to worship him as if you're born to savor this hallowed moment.

"don't apologize," you remind him, and in the split second that your hand feels over his bulge, every nerve in his body and brain was electrified— as the motion of your palm spoke of a movement coupled perfectly to itself, confident, focused and reverent, "i missed you too."

unhurriedly, you get yourself off the couch before settling in between his thighs, your hands coaxing out a shaky groan from him as you slid them over his legs before hooking your fingers into the waistband of his pants, freeing him shortly after. at the feeling of his bulging erection being met with the cold air of the room, ayato whimpers, yet what actually made him lose his mind was when you took him in your hand, his glossed pre glazing over your knuckles and sending him into a heady trance.

he feels how his balls were tightening when you slant your lips forward to spit on his cock, his body starting to ready itself for your warm, wet mouth before you're slowly dragging your tongue over the slit, the feeling of ecstasy coming through him in a controlled wave of pleasure.

in this moment, ayato feels like all the relief in his life settled in his stomach and his worries died down, all the times he had dreamt of you the entire day when he was supposed to be actually focusing on work— not the memories of last night where he had you draped over the mattress, stuffed entirely with his cum. the memories of the night still left him in a tremble, and how utterly beautiful you looked claimed in such lewd manner.

your hand wraps around the base tight enough to heighten the feeling of pressure and bliss on him, a choked rumble coming from above you as ayato covers his face with one arm while the other settles on your head. your hand firmly palms around the base of his erection as you began to gave his tip a tentative lick, never focusing less on how he was reacting to you.

the more inches you decided to swallow, the more you cam into contact with a rich, masculine musk permeating on your tongue at the first taste of him— ugh, ayato tasted so good, and he always took such good care of himself that you cannot help yourself but rub your thighs together, hoping it's enough to pleasure yourself on your own.

to make him further lose his mind, you know what you had to do and proceeded to sweep your tongue across the head several more times until his eyes would turn bloodshot from the little droplets of tears hovering on his pretty lashes.

oh well, he must be so tired, fatigued and frustrated. at the same time, suffusing into the loss of his mind and the hotness of your lips softly pressing into his shaft.

he cannot wait until you take him in your mouth.

which then, naturally you did, yet slow, encouraged by the addictive taste of him filling your senses as you take more of his length into your mouth. you bob your head up and down, the heavy tip of his erection nudging in the back of your throat as you let him guide you up and down with his hand, working the first couple inches of his dripping dick against your tongue until you hit your limit.

for what you couldn't gather inside your wetness, you let your hand make up for the rest, finding a comforting pace as ayato grew so absorbed in watching you please him, it's almost as tasteful as feeling it in the first place.

just how obediently you let him feel around your mouth as his fingers slide through your hair— he hopes he manages to turn you soaked by the end of it, so he mustn't prepare you any further and can sink himself inside of you much quicker.

you lift your eyes to meet his delirious half-gaze before you hollow your cheeks, pulling back with a soft popping sound and a faint rush of adrenaline.

"you enjoying yourself?" you coo devilishly, then cock an eyebrow that destroyed all its softness within your triumphant gaze, "very much so," he smirks back.

boldly, he hides between the beautiful implications of a clouded expression hovering all over his facial features, when in reality, ayato has already planned out the entire night for you two.

#genshin x reader #genshin Impact x reader #genshin smut #genshin impact smut #ayato x reader #ayato smut #genshin x you #genshin impact x you #ayato x you #genshin impact drabbles #genshin drabbles

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hoshifighting · 1 year ago

Text

Soccer Player! Reader, Soccer Player! Jeonghan - Enemies to Lovers

— Synopsis: Once inseparable childhood friends, their bond takes an unexpected turn when you start dating in middle school. Jeonghan's behavior becomes increasingly erratic, transforming him from a supportive friend to a constant source of annoyance. Now, in college, the tables turn, but Jeonghan remains a delightful pain in the ass as old flames are rekindled in the midst of playful banter and undeniable attraction. — WC: 6.6k — WARNINGS: smut, reader get pissed asf and beat Jeonghan's ass, unprotected sex, chocking, hair pulling, mentions of violence and aggression, oral (f. receiving), clit stimulation, finger sucking and etc.

In the sprawling grounds of your childhood, Jeonghan and you were inseparable. You spent endless afternoons kicking a worn-out soccer ball around, dreaming of the day you'd play together on the same team. You'd laugh, plan silly pranks, and talk about everything under the sun. But things changed when you started dating someone in middle school.

It was innocent, a fluttering crush that led to hand-holding and stolen glances. It wasn't meant to come between Jeonghan and you, but it did. Suddenly, his jokes turned sharper, the shoulder bumps felt like intentional jabs, and he even started bending the rules during games at frat parties. It felt like he was retaliating for your decision, and you couldn't understand why.

Confused and hurt by the sudden change, you distanced yourself from Jeonghan, and the friendship that had weathered the storms of childhood slowly faded away. The once inseparable duo became strangers, and you never got a chance to ask him what went wrong.

Years later, in the hallowed halls of college, your paths crossed again. Both of you were now dedicated athletes, pursuing your passion for soccer at the collegiate level. Your common friends couldn't help but notice the peculiar dynamic between you and Jeonghan. They often questioned why he treated you the way he did.

The setting sun cast long shadows across the soccer field as you and your friends left the practice session, laughter and banter filling the air. The atmosphere was light, and the camaraderie among teammates was palpable. Little did you know, the calm before the storm was just around the corner.

As you approached the locker room, still basking in the post-practice glow, you suddenly stumbled over someone's soccer cleats. Before you could hit the ground, Seungkwan, one of Jeonghan's friends, swiftly caught you, preventing a potential fall. Confused, you looked around and noticed Jeonghan standing nearby, a sly smirk playing on his lips.

The exchange didn't go unnoticed by your friends and Jeonghan's group. They exchanged glances, the air growing thick with tension. Jeonghan's friends raised questioning eyebrows, seemingly as surprised as your friends.

"Hey, Y/N, you okay?" Seungkwan asked, concern evident in his eyes.

"Yeah, thanks to you," you replied, shooting a pointed look at Jeonghan, who was pretending to be innocent.

Your friends and Jeonghan's friends exchanged puzzled glances, sensing an underlying tension. "What's going on here?" one of your friends asked, breaking the awkward silence.

Before you could respond, another friend chimed in, "And why did Jeonghan just let you stumble like that? Is he okay?"

Jeonghan's friends looked at him, awaiting an explanation. Your friends, on the other hand, turned to you, expecting some clarification.

You took a deep breath, trying to contain your frustration. "I have no idea what's going on with Jeonghan," you said, shooting him a piercing glare. "But it's clear he's up to something, and I'm not in the mood for his games."

Jeonghan feigned innocence, a playful smile still on his face. "Games? Who, me? Nah, I was just standing here minding my own business," he said, shrugging.

Your jaw clenched as you fought the urge to respond. Instead, you turned away, leaving your friends behind, both groups noting the storm brewing within you. The air was thick with tension as you walked away, the unspoken question lingering in the minds of your friends and Jeonghan's group.

The locker room buzzed with excitement as you and your friends prepared for Soonyoung's party. The air was thick with hairspray and the lingering scent of sweat from the day's soccer practice. You sat on the bench, applying moisturizer to your tired legs, the cool cream a welcome relief after a rigorous workout. The dress you had chosen for the evening hung on the nearby hook, and you adjusted its hem, ensuring it fell just right.

As you meticulously prepared for the night ahead, your mind wandered back to Jeonghan's recent antics. A frown creased your forehead, and you let out an exasperated sigh. "I can't believe he pulled that stunt again. What's his problem?" you muttered, your frustration evident in your voice.

Your friend, sitting beside you, glanced up from her own makeup routine. "Jeonghan? What did he do now?" she asked, concern etching her features.

You rolled your eyes, recounting the incident with Seungkwan catching you and Jeonghan's apparent amusement. "He's just being his usual self—playing silly games and trying to get under my skin. It's like he's on a mission to annoy me today," you grumbled, the irritation evident in your tone.

Your friend sighed, setting down her makeup to focus on you. "You know how he is. Don't let him ruin your mood. It's Soonyoung's party, and we're here to have fun," she said, offering you a reassuring smile.

You nodded, appreciating her attempt to calm your brewing frustration. "I know, I know. But sometimes, he just gets on my nerves, and I can't figure out why he's like that."

With a soft chuckle, your friend gently pulled you into a side hug. "Maybe he's just Jeonghan, being Jeonghan. You can't change that, but you can control how you react. Don't let him ruin your night. We're here to dance, laugh, and enjoy. Let's focus on that, okay?"

She then turned her attention to your hair, expertly weaving a simple yet elegant hairstyle. The rhythmic motion of her hands and the comforting presence of your friend helped ease the tension that had built up. You took a deep breath, deciding to take her advice to heart.

"You're right. Let's forget about Jeonghan and have an amazing night," you said, forcing a smile as you shifted your focus back to the excitement of the party ahead.

Soonyoung's house pulsated with music and laughter as you and your friends embraced the vibrant atmosphere of the party. The beats compelled everyone to move, and you found yourself in the center of the makeshift dance floor, swaying to the rhythm with carefree abandon.

Soonyoung, the life of the party, approached you with a mischievous grin. "Y/N, you've got some moves! Are you sure you're not a secret dance prodigy?" he exclaimed, playfully exaggerating his surprise.

You laughed, the music drowning out your response, but you playfully mimed a humble acknowledgment. The two of you danced together for a while, and Soonyoung's infectious energy was contagious, adding to the carefree spirit of the night.

As you grooved to the music, Mingyu, a tall and athletic figure from the men's soccer team, made his way through the crowd towards you. He leaned in to talk in your ear, his voice barely audible over the booming music. "Hey, about the games next week, we're having joint practice sessions for both teams. You'll need to be close to me for some of the drills, okay?" he explained, his warm breath tickling your ear.

You nodded in agreement, giving him a thumbs up to signal that you understood the plan for the upcoming practices. Mingyu smiled and excused himself, disappearing back into the crowd.

Just as you turned to share the news with your friends, one of them pulled you aside, her expression serious. "Y/N, you might want to look behind you. Jeonghan looks like he's ready to burn holes into your soul with that glare of his," she warned, a hint of concern in her voice.

Confused, you glanced over your shoulder to find Jeonghan, indeed, shooting daggers at you with intense eyes. He was sipping from a red cup, his expression unreadable. You turned back to your friend, your face betraying a mix of surprise and discomfort.

"Why is he looking at me like that?" you asked, feeling a flush of embarrassment.

"He's probably not thrilled about you getting cozy with Mingyu," your friend speculated, a knowing look in her eyes.

You sighed, feeling the weight of Jeonghan's gaze on you. "Well, it's not like Mingyu and I were dancing intimately or anything. It was just about the soccer practice."

Before you could dwell on it further, Soonyoung grabbed a microphone, calling everyone's attention. "Alright, party people! Who's up for a game? Gather 'round!"

The game of "Musical Chairs" had escalated to a nail-biting climax, leaving only one chair in the center of the circle. To your surprise and dismay, Jeonghan emerged as your final opponent. The tension between you two had already been palpable, and now it seemed like the universe had conspired to put you in a face-off.

As the music stopped, you quickly claimed the last chair, ready to breathe a sigh of relief. However, before you could fully settle, Jeonghan decided to add a twist. In a daring move, he pulled the chair out from under you, leaving you flat on the floor, much to the shock of the onlookers.

A collective gasp echoed through the room, and someone in the background shouted, "He cheated!" Of course he cheated.

Without a second thought, you sprang to your feet, rage burning in your eyes. The buzz of screams around you became a distant hum as you leaped onto Jeonghan, wrapping your arms around his neck.

The chaotic scene was cut short as people rushed to pull you away from Jeonghan, attempting to defuse the situation. You found yourself sitting on a nearby couch, your face flushed with a mix of anger and embarrassment. Jeonghan, on the other hand, sat in the opposite corner, arms crossed, with noticeable nail marks on his neck courtesy of your unbridled fury.

The room fell into an uneasy silence, punctuated only by the hushed whispers and concerned glances exchanged between partygoers. Your friends shot you apologetic looks, clearly sensing the tension in the air.

After a brief pause, Jeonghan's friends took charge, ushering him to a separate corner for what seemed like a stern talking-to. Meanwhile, your friends approached you, expressions a mix of concern and amusement.

"Y/N, are you okay?" one of your friends asked, patting you on the back.

You took a deep breath, trying to shake off the embarrassment. "I'm fine. It's just... Jeonghan being Jeonghan," you replied, attempting to downplay the situation.

Amidst the residual tension and the discomfort of being in the same room as Jeonghan after the chaotic "Musical Chairs" incident, you felt a wave of frustration wash over you. Without a second thought, you began searching for your handbag and jacket, determined to leave.

"I've had enough," you muttered to yourself, the irritation evident in your voice.

Your friends and some of Jeonghan's friends noticed your abrupt movement and stepped in, attempting to halt your exit.

"Y/N, wait, don't go!" one of your friends called out, concern etched on her face.

Another friend from Jeonghan's group chimed in, "Come on, it was just a silly game. Don't let that ruin your night."

But you were resolute, determined to distance yourself from the escalating tension. "I can't deal with this anymore. Every time it's the same, and I'm done," you stated firmly, your tone leaving no room for negotiation.

Jeonghan's friends tried to reason with you. "He didn't mean for things to get out of hand. You know how he is," one of them pleaded, attempting to diffuse the situation.

You paused, torn between frustration and understanding. "I get it, but there's a limit. This has gone too far," you replied, your voice tinged with exasperation.

Jeonghan, sensing the gravity of the situation, looked conflicted from across the room, his expression a mix of regret and concern. He made a move as if to say something, but hesitated, unsure how to approach the situation.

But you had made up your mind. Ignoring the attempts to convince you otherwise, you swiftly grabbed your belongings and made for the door, your determination unwavering. The echoes of your friends' and Jeonghan's friends' voices calling after you faded as you stepped out into the cool night air.

The sound of the door closing behind you marked the end of a tumultuous night at Soonyoung's party. Outside, you took a deep breath, the weight of the evening slowly lifting as you prepared to leave the tensions of the night behind and head home. Sometimes, setting boundaries and taking a step back was necessary, even if it meant leaving a party prematurely.

The week had been a blur of training sessions and preparations for the upcoming game, leaving you with little time to dwell on the events of Soonyoung's party. As you walked through the university garden on a crisp Monday morning, the weight of the week's responsibilities pressed upon you. Your mind was focused on the game ahead, and you had almost forgotten about the tension with Jeonghan.

However, as you approached the entrance to your classroom, you were met with an unexpected sight. Jeonghan and his friends stood there, creating an invisible barrier between you and the classroom door. The air thickened with anticipation as you hesitated, catching your breath.

Not wanting to escalate the situation, you offered a curt nod and a short greeting, "Hi," before attempting to walk past them into the classroom.

Seungcheol, one of Jeonghan's friends, took a step forward. "Wait, Y/N. There's something Jeonghan needs to say," he said, his tone commanding.

You sighed, crossing your arms, signaling your readiness to listen but maintaining a defensive posture. The empty classroom echoed with silence as you waited.

Seungcheol turned to Jeonghan, his grip on Jeonghan's uniform firm. "Go on, say what you need to say," he instructed.

Jeonghan hesitated, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment. After a moment, he managed to mumble, "Sorry, Y/N."

You squinted your eyes, incredulous. "Is that really coming from you?" you asked, your voice skeptical.

Seungcheol's grip tightened for a moment, a silent reminder to Jeonghan to speak sincerely. Lowering his head with a visible sense of regret, Jeonghan repeated, "I'm really sorry about that," his apology sounding more genuine this time.

You raised an eyebrow but remained silent, waiting to see if there was anything more to his apology.

After an awkward pause, Jeonghan bowed, a gesture of contrition, before hastily leaving the classroom. The door swung shut behind him, Seungcheol lingered for a moment, meeting your gaze with a nod of acknowledgement. Without saying a word, he followed Jeonghan out of the classroom, leaving you to contemplate the unexpected encounter.

The soccer field buzzed with the energy of the morning practice as both the men's and women's teams warmed up for the upcoming game. You were in the midst of your pre-game routine, jogging and stretching alongside your teammates, anticipation building for the match ahead.

The whistle blew, signaling the start of the game, and both teams began weaving across the field in a display of skill and strategy. The intensity of the game kept you focused until an unexpected jolt of pain shot through the posterior part of your thigh, causing you to crumple to the ground in discomfort.

The trainer quickly halted the game, and you closed your eyes tightly, trying to endure the sharp pain. Soon, you felt hands carefully stretching your leg to alleviate the cramp. Assuming it was one of your teammates, you didn't pay much attention until you opened your eyes and realized it wasn't just anyone—it was Jeonghan.

He held your feet against his shoulder, applying gentle pressure to help ease the pain. The memories of your childhood flashed before your eyes—times when you had done the same for him. You brushed the nostalgia away, focusing on the present moment.

The trainer instructed you to move to the bench for further treatment, and you hopped on one foot, trying to shake off the discomfort. Sitting on the bench, frustration etched across your face, you couldn't help but feel unsatisfied with your performance being cut short by the unexpected cramp.

Jeonghan approached, concern evident in his eyes. "Are you okay, Y/N?" he asked, his voice carrying a genuine worry.

You shot him a quick glance, a mix of irritation and pain on your face. "I'll be fine. Just a cramp. It's nothing," you replied tersely, trying to downplay the situation.

Jeonghan hovered, unsure of how to respond. "If there's anything I can do—"

You cut him off, your tone a blend of frustration and dismissal. "I've got it, Jeonghan. Just focus on the game."

The sun blazed overhead as you continued your solo training on the field, determined to push yourself beyond the limits. The intensity of the game had faded into the background, and now it was just you, the field, and the relentless heat. Water bottles scattered around you, evidence of the effort you were putting in.

Lost in your focus, you were suddenly brought back to reality when you noticed Jeonghan sitting on the bench nearby, his arms crossed. It was then that you realized you had lost track of time.

"How long have you been sitting there?" you asked, wiping sweat from your forehead.

Jeonghan remained silent for a moment, his gaze fixed on the field. "Long enough to know it's not safe to train under this sun," he finally responded.

You scoffed, dismissing his concern. "I need to train, Jeonghan. I can't afford to slack off."

He sighed, uncrossing his arms. "And that's exactly why you ended up with a cramp earlier. Your muscles are exhausted."

The tension between you and Jeonghan simmered as you prepared to leave the field, feeling a mixture of frustration and reluctance to accept his advice. As you rose from the bench, ready to head towards the locker rooms, Jeonghan's hand reached out, gently gripping your wrist.

"You've always been stubborn," he remarked, his voice soft yet firm.

You turned to face him, a flash of irritation crossing your features. "It's not like you care anyway," you retorted, trying to pull your wrist from his grasp.

You pulled your wrist from his grip, shooting him a sharp look. "And what's that supposed to mean?"

Jeonghan sighed, choosing his words carefully. "I remember when we were kids, you were always determined and driven. But now, it's like your determination has turned into something else—an edge, a sharpness."

Rolling your eyes, you scoffed, "Well, maybe if you hadn't been such a pain in the ass all these years, I wouldn't need an edge to deal with you."

As Jeonghan mumbled something about Eunwoo— your ex-boyfriend from middle school — ruining everything, your curiosity was piqued. You turned your ear towards him, a puzzled expression on your face. "Who? Eunwoo? What does he have to do with anything?"

Jeonghan's eyes widened, a brief moment of panic crossing his face. He stammered, attempting to deny any connection, but the truth was written all over his expression. It was clear – he was jealous of Eunwoo.

Your mind clicked into place, connecting the dots. "Wait a minute... are you telling me you've been jealous of Eunwoo?"

Jeonghan hesitated, avoiding eye contact, but the admission lingered in the air. A mix of surprise and realization played on your features. "Seriously? You've been jealous this whole time?"

He shifted uncomfortably, searching for words. "It's not like that! I just... I've known you for so long, and seeing you with someone else—"

You cut him off, unable to contain a laugh. "Jeonghan, are you kidding me? You've been acting like this because of jealousy?"

He looked a bit sheepish but attempted to maintain his composure. "It's not just jealousy. It's just... complicated."

You couldn't help but shake your head in disbelief. "Complicated? Jeonghan, you've been playing games, making jokes, and being a pain in the ass, all because of some weird, complicated jealousy thing?"

The revelation that Jeonghan's years of stubborn behavior were rooted in jealousy over a mere one-month affair left you both astonished and perplexed. As you walked towards the locker rooms, the air hung heavy with unspoken thoughts, and you couldn't hold back from addressing the situation.

"You mean to tell me that all these years of your antics and stubbornness were because of a one-month affair?" you asked, disbelief coloring your tone.

Jeonghan avoided direct eye contact, a sheepish expression on his face. "I didn't plan for things to get this complicated. It just happened."

You shook your head in amazement. "Jeonghan, we've been friends for so long. Why didn't you just talk to me about it? You let this jealousy fester for years over something so trivial?"

"I thought if I acted like it didn't bother me, it would go away. Clearly, that didn't work." He points, creating a silence between you two.

You couldn't help but notice the faint marks on his skin from the intense encounter during the party. The remnants of your frustration were etched in the form of nail marks, a visual reminder of the heated exchange.

After a moment of contemplation, you decided to address the elephant in the room. "Hey, Jeonghan, about the party... I'm sorry about, you know, beating your ass," you said, gesturing towards the marks on his neck. "But, honestly, you kind of deserved it."

He chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck, "No need to apologize, Y/N. I probably deserved it."

You raised an eyebrow, a hint of skepticism in your voice, "Deserved it? What's that supposed to mean?"

Jeonghan sighed, admitting, "Well, maybe I've been a bit of a pain lately, and I needed a wake-up call."

You crossed your arms, still not fully convinced, "So, you intentionally provoked me?"

He nodded, a sheepish smile playing on his lips, "Yeah, but not because I enjoy getting my ass kicked. I just... I didn't know how else to deal with everything, and it all got a bit out of hand."

You let out a small huff, "Well, next time, try talking instead of provoking. It might save you some nail marks."

Jeonghan chuckled at your apology, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Don't worry about it, Y/N. Nail marks come with the territory, and I can handle a bit of rough play."

You shot him a skeptical look, "You're awfully calm about having marks on your neck."

He winked, a playful smirk on his face, "Actually, I find it kind of sexy. Adds a bit of excitement, you know?"

You rolled your eyes, not entirely convinced by his nonchalant attitude. "Well, I'm not planning on making a habit out of beating you up."

Jeonghan laughed, "Fair enough, but if you ever feel the need to express your frustrations again, just aim for my back next time. It might be a bit more enjoyable for both of us."

Your eyes widened at his bold suggestion, "Are you serious?"

He shrugged, a playful glint still in his eyes, "Why not? It's all in good fun."

You shook your head, a mix of amusement and disbelief. "You're impossible, Jeonghan."

[...]

The week leading up to the game passed in a surprisingly calm manner. Jeonghan's demeanor had shifted, and the lingering tension that once colored your interactions had dissipated. His jokes were now more lighthearted, and both of your groups could finally enjoy lunch without the threat of any neck-ripping incidents.

As the day of the game approached, nervous anticipation settled in. The stakes were high, and the pressure was palpable. On the field, the air crackled with a mix of excitement and tension as the moment of truth drew near.

The referee's whistle pierced the air, signaling the start of the game. You, alongside your teammates, advanced with determination. The match was tight, a fierce competition between your team and the opposing university. The score remained deadlocked, each side vying for that crucial goal that could tip the scales in their favor.

With only moments left before the game would potentially go into penalties, an opportunity presented itself. The goalkeeper seemed far, and the ball rolled towards you. It was your chance. With a burst of adrenaline, you sprinted towards the goal, the crowd's cheers blending into a distant roar.

In that critical moment, you kicked the ball with precision, the satisfying thud echoing through the stadium as it sank into the net. The eruption of cheers from the crowd was deafening, and your teammates rushed to embrace you.

Amidst the chaos of celebrating students flooding onto the field, your friends engulfed you in hugs, relishing the triumph, but your gaze was drawn towards Jeonghan. His seated figure and the small punches he absentmindedly threw into the air betrayed a different, quieter emotion. It was a momentary glimpse behind the facade he often wore, revealing a side of him that wasn't always apparent.

The day had been long and exhausting, and the comfort of a warm bath had been a much-needed respite. As the echo of the doorbell reached your ears, you wrapped yourself in a robe, moving swiftly to answer it.

Opening the door just a crack, you peeked out, surprised to find Jeonghan standing in the hallway. "Jeonghan?" you questioned, a hint of curiosity in your voice.

He met your gaze with a warm smile. "Hey, I wanted to congratulate you," he said, a sense of genuine admiration in his tone.

Pausing for a moment, you hesitated before deciding to let him in. Opening the door wider, you gestured for him to step inside your dorm room. Jeonghan entered, a look of determination on his face.

Without warning, he wrapped his arms around you in an unexpected hug, catching you off guard. The embrace was surprisingly comforting, the warmth of his presence a stark contrast to the hectic day.

"Thanks, Y/N," he murmured, his voice soft.

For a moment, you were taken aback by the sudden intimacy. His gesture felt sincere, and as he pulled away, there was a vulnerability in his eyes that you hadn't seen before.

"Um, thanks," you managed, feeling a mixture of surprise and gratitude.

Jeonghan smiled warmly, the tension of the day momentarily forgotten. "I just wanted to say it in person. You did great."

"I did, didn't I?" you teased with a playful grin, breaking the silence that lingered in your room.

Jeonghan scoffed, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Yeah, you did."

An air of uncertainty settled between you as he fidgeted, his hands finding refuge in his pockets. The room was charged with unspoken tension, both of you seemingly on the edge of something unexplored.

After a few moments of hesitation, Jeonghan let out a sigh, a resigned "fuck it" escaping his lips. In an instant, he closed the distance between you, capturing your lips in a surprising and passionate kiss. The shock sent a jolt through your body, but you found yourself kissing him back with equal fervor.

He pressed you against the wall, the sudden intensity of the moment causing your heart to race. Your fingers tangled in his long hair, a tangible connection forming between you.

In the charged atmosphere of the moment, Jeonghan's hands gripped your waist, his thumbs tracing teasing circles on the towel cloth of your robe. With a mischievous grin, he released your lower lip with a soft pop, his gaze lingering on your face.

As he pressed his body against yours, the knot of your robe seemed to have mysteriously loosened, creating a seductive cleavage that exposed the curves of your bust. The fabric hung on the brink of revealing more, almost exposing your nipple.

You whispered, your voice barely audible, "Jeonghan."

Jeonghan leaned back, his eyes widening as he saw your robe almost undone. A gulp escaped him, and he hurriedly moved to close the cloth around you. Your hands intercepted his, holding them in place. There was a shared understanding in that moment—a tacit agreement that things had shifted, and there was no turning back.

With a steady gaze, you opened the robe, exposing your body. Jeonghan's breath caught, his hands instinctively gripping the sides of the robe tightly. The room seemed to buzz with an electric tension, and the air felt charged with anticipation.

His hands found their way to your hips, fingers pinching the fabric of your robe. The sensation sent shivers down your spine as his touch left an indelible mark on the uncharted territory of your connection.

As the intimate moment continued, Jeonghan led you to sit on the couch. His hands caressing the skin under your belly button, opening you by your inner thighs, until he reaches your pussy. He licks his fingers, starting to circle your clit, you muffle a moan, closing your eyes when you feel two of his fingers entering you.

"Jeonghannie…"

A soft moan escaped your lips, and in the hushed aftermath, you whispered, "Jeonghannie."

He hummed in response, the sound a tender acknowledgment of the nickname that had slipped past your lips. There was an unspoken intimacy in the way he absorbed the words, a resonance that spoke of shared history and a connection that had weathered the complexities of time.

"I missed that," Jeonghan admitted, his mouth sucking your clit, and you jolted, moving your hips, almost riding his fingers.

His request hung in the air, and you felt a flutter of anticipation as Jeonghan, with a mischievous glint in his eyes, asked, "Can you do that again?"

A coy smile played on your lips as you willingly obliged. "Jeonghannie," you moaned, the sound escaping your lips with an undeniable fervor.

His fingers curled, and your body tenses while you throw your head back, a satisfied smile forming on his face. The room was filled with a charged energy, and the intimacy between you deepened with each shared moment. "Again," he requested, the playful challenge evident in his eyes.

Your voice, laced with desire, echoed the familiar nickname once more, "Ah! Jeonghannie."

A low chuckle escaped him as he reveled in the sound, flicking your bud with his tongue. Your pussy was tight around his fingers, and he knows you are almost there. So he stops. As you whimpered, a question escaped your lips, "You won't be stubborn here too, right?" The anticipation in your voice held a hint of vulnerability.

Jeonghan, his jaw clenched and a firm grip in your hair, made you look into his intense gaze. There was a magnetic intensity in his eyes that seemed to hold the weight of unspoken desires.

He teased, his voice low and husky, "What if I want you to beg, hmm?"

A shiver ran down your spine at his words, the raw desire and dominance in his tone leaving you breathless. A breathy uncertainty laced your voice as you echoed, "B-beg?"

Jeonghan's grip on your hair tightened slightly, a wicked gleam in his eyes. "That's right. Beg for it," he murmured, his tone a blend of command and temptation.

The air between you crackled with a newfound intensity, and as you hesitated, his fingers entwined in your hair, he repeated, "Beg, Y/N."

Your heartbeat quickened, and the room seemed to close in around you. The vulnerability of the moment hung in the air, and in a hushed voice, you uttered the words he sought, "Please, Jeonghan." Your pussy clenching around nothing.

"Please what, Y/N?" he inquired, his eyes locked onto yours, a playful smirk playing on his lips.

"Please let me cum on your mouth Jeonghannie..." You cried out, and fuck, you felt like a pathetic slut.

He smiles, sucking your cunt, licking everywhere, your moans escaping your lips, an uncontrollable melody of pleasure. Sensing an opportunity to play, Jeonghan added his own voice to the symphony, a low and enticing moan that mirrored the rhythm of your own.

As you continued to moan, he intensified his efforts, each sound a deliberate echo of your pleasure. His moans grew louder, the teasing quality evident in every sultry note.

Your legs lock him, and he makes you cum messily on his tongue. Your feel dizzy, how the fuck you are trembling on your couch, with robe opened, and Jeonghan giving you a mind-blowing oral?

Jeonghan, with a deliberate and firm movement, turned you around, positioning you with your arms gripping the backrest of the couch. Your body arched, your ass lifted in the air, the vulnerability and anticipation palpable in the intimate moment.

Your cheeks burned with a mixture of embarrassment and anticipation, and you avoided turning to look at him. The heat emanating from Jeonghan behind you was palpable, and you rested your face on the sofa, trying to conceal the flush that colored your features.

Suddenly, his hands moved swiftly, gripping your hair with a rough intensity. He pulled you closer, and your back pressed against his chest. Jeonghan pressed his lips against yours. However, your mouth fell open, and you couldn't reciprocate the kiss as you felt him pushing his thick cock inside.

The pace quickened, Jeonghan's hips moving surprisingly fast, each thrust making your body bounce with every stroke. The sounds that escaped your lips were a mix of pleasure and restraint. Unsure if the walls could contain the intensity, you bit your lips almost to the point of tasting blood, attempting to stifle the moans that threatened to escape.

Jeonghan, disapproving of your attempt to silence yourself, held the back of your neck. He pressed your face against the pillowed backrest of the couch, a commanding tone accompanying his touch. "Don't hold back your moans," he ordered, his voice a low, authoritative whisper that sent shivers down your spine.

The sounds of skin slapping echoed in the background, but Jeonghan's insistence on hearing your unrestrained pleasure added a new layer of pleasure sent directly to your cunt.

Stuttering, you managed to express your concern, "J-Jeonghan, people can listen," the words slipping between the gasps and moans.

He, however, seemed indifferent. "I don't give a fuck," he asserted, the determination in his voice unwavering.

You insisted, "Anyone can pass in the hall and hear us."

In response, he scoffed, dismissing the concern. Without a word, he pushed two fingers into your mouth, silencing you momentarily as you involuntarily drooled around them.

Jeonghan's blunt question hung in the air, "Good for you now, slut?" Your response came in the form of a satisfied mumble, an unspoken acknowledgment of the shared pleasure.

He, however, expressed a sentiment of unfairness, his voice carrying a mix of teasing and genuine desire. "That's unfair, Y/N. I've waited so long to hear you like this, and now you're impeding me from enjoying it?"

He pushes you to lay your back on the couch, pushing his dick inside of you again. His hands are now choking you slightly. Your response was a breathless laugh, a mixture of amusement and pleasure. "I can't help it if you're too impatient, Jeonghan."

He chuckled, the sound vibrating through your shared space. "Impatient? After all this time? I've been waiting for this, and now you're telling me I have to be patient?" A teasing glint sparkled in his eyes as he continued, "You're a tease, Y/N. Making me wait, and now you're holding back."

You playfully rolled your eyes, even though his words resonated with a certain truth. "Maybe I enjoy making you wait. Builds anticipation, doesn't it?"

Jeonghan grinned, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. "Well, I hope you're ready to make up for lost time."

The rhythm intensified, and the force of Jeonghan's hips against you became more pronounced. The friction started to border on discomfort, and you shut your eyes tightly, desperate to channel all the overwhelming pleasure into a refuge against screaming aloud. Your hands found their way to his back, nails digging into his skin and trailing all the way down.

Your moans and gasps mingled in the air, both of you caught in the throes of pleasure. The sheer intensity of the moment made coherent conversation impossible, reducing any attempts to words that stuttered out in fragmented pleasure.

His mouth fell open, and he called your name with a voice that echoed the shared ecstasy. "Y/N," he stammered, the syllables breaking with the weight of desire, a testament to the overwhelming pleasure that engulfed both of you.

The intensity of the moment pushed you to repeat the action, your nails running harder and more unconsciously down his back. A gasp escaped him, filling the room as his climax overtook him, making his body shiver with the force of pleasure.

After the peak of pleasure subsided, he took a moment to catch his breath. "This is a dirty game you played on me," he remarked, a hint of sulking in his voice. The unexpected intensity of the encounter, spurred by the simple action of your nails on his back, had left him vulnerable and surprised.

A playful smirk played on your lips as you teased him, "Oh, you're really into scratching your skin, aren't you?"

Jeonghan's sulky expression transformed into a sheepish grin. "Well, maybe a little. You seem to have a talent for it."

As the playful banter continued, Jeonghan's hand ventured down your body, his touch purposeful circling your clit. The exploration was gentle yet intent, working to build the anticipation and pleasure that would lead you to orgasm.

A connection of affection and determination passed between you as you held his forearm, your eyes locked onto his. The look in his eyes conveyed a desire for you to cum,, the unspoken connection between you and Jeonghan deepening with each breath.

His hands worked faster, and your breath quickened in response. You avoided looking at him, lost in the overwhelming sensations. A hiss escaped him as you clenched around him, your back arching from the couch, the sensation of your nipples brushing against his skin adding an extra layer of intensity. In the throes of passion, you called him "Jeonghannie," the nickname slipping past your lips in a breathless plea.

"I'm going to—" you began, the words catching in your throat as pleasure surged through you.

Jeonghan, with a husky urgency, filled the silence, "Cum for me, my beautiful whore…" You reaching a crescendo as he urged you to surrender to the pleasure. "Cream on my cock, my beautiful Y/N. Let go for me."

You held onto his forearm tighter, gasping for air and calling out his name every time more louder. His response was a husky affirmation, "Yes, baby, just like that. Mhmm, that's my little slut."

The orgasm finally hit you, a powerful wave of pleasure surging through your body as you creamed hard around him. The room filled with the unmistakable sounds of your release, a symphony of ecstasy echoing in the air. Jeonghan, caressing your hair, tried to soothe you from the intensity of the climax.

"Fuck, I'll have to take another bath," you said, and Jeonghan chuckled, his voice laced with a satisfied tone, "Well, at least it will be with me."

He held you gently, leading the way to clean up. The shared bath became a tender moment, the water soothing and cleansing as you both relaxed.

Afterward, you lay on your bed, and Jeonghan sat on the edge. You called him, and he turned his head, carefully facing you. "What's up?"

You took a moment before admitting, "I saw the scratches on your back in the bath, but I was embarrassed to tell you."

He got up and turned his back to the mirror on your wardrobe, trying to take a peek at what you did. A smile spread across his face as he examined the red lines on the milky skin of his back. "Looks like you had fun back there," he teased, turning to face you.

Jeonghan, playfully teasing, grinned and said, "How am I going to explain this to my friends in the locker room?"

You joined in the playful banter, suggesting, "Maybe avoid changing around them this week."

He chuckled and offered a humorous solution, "I can always say I got into a fight with a cat."

Both of you burst into laughter, the shared joke creating a light and carefree atmosphere.

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thesummerestsolstice · 7 months ago

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I like the idea that the Valar can grant boons to men or elves they favor. Sometimes visible– glowing markings, feathers, claws– and sometimes not. Attitudes of these blessings ranged from fear to reverence to jealousy, often reflecting opinions of the Valar more generally.

Galadriel's special treelight hair came from Finarfin. Finarfin got it as a result of Manwe's favor. Given how rare it was for Manwe to bestow such gifts, this caused quite a stir. Later, Morgoth would spread rumors that Manwe was trying to set Finarfin up as the new Noldor crown prince, bypassing Finwe's older children.

Namo gave Fingolfin a blessing, and no one was particularly sure why, Fingolfin included. The truth was that Namo had already foreseen Fingolfin's death, and wanted to give him the strength to let him wound Morgoth before falling to him. Namo has always felt a sense of responsibility for those who choose to come to his halls, even if he's powerless to change their fates.

Celegorm was blessed by Orome, given the kind of teeth and claws that a few of his best disciples had been granted over the years. Orome couldn't take those gifts back, so Celegorm kept them for all his life. You wouldn't know that looking at paintings of him, though, because none of them show him with the marks of Orome's hunt. Whether this was a choice made by him or by later revisionists trying to minimize his connection with the Valar is unknown.

Varda gave blessings to both Earendil and Gil-Galad in the final years of the First Age. Both of them are said to have shone like stars afterwards, and there were some darker rumors that like the hallowed Silmarils, they would burn any unholy flesh that touched them. Some speculated that the blessings were Varda's way of apologizing for leaving the elves to face Morgoth alone for so long.

Ulmo is probably the Vala who's given out the most blessings– Cirdan, Turgon, Finrod, and Tuor all recieved boons from him, among others. But everyone who's gotten blessings from Ulmo is weirdly secretive about it. There's lots of gossip floating around– Ulmo is the reason Cirdan has a beard, Ulmo is the reason Turgon is taller than Maedhros, Ulmo is the reason that everyone likes Finrod so much, actually everyone blessed by Ulmo gets gills and he has secret underwater meetings with them– you get the idea. Well, probably no reason to consider that last one. I can't imagine any of the Valar using their power for something that foolish.

There is fierce scholarly debate on whether Thingol received a blessing from Melian, and whether her descendants could, theoretically, do the same. Elrond would like everyone to please stop asking him about it. Elrond would also like everyone to please stop talking about Gil-Galad's hair turning silver after the two of them took a very normal hunting trip together.

(Multiple Valar have tried to take credit for just how amazingly luscious and wonderful Finwe's hair is. But no, that wasn't a blessing. He's just like that.)

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lyrablack1883 · 9 months ago

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Death(s)

Death is a merciful being, or so he, himself thought. He, who stood at the pinnacle of magic, in his life granted mercy to those who he dearly loved. One and foremost to his lover and others to those who, he could call his “sons”.

The three brothers, grew up with pain embedded into their flesh and bone. The first brother received it from the way he was brought to this world, the second alongside his mother received it from his own father, and the third received it from the family that was supposed to raise him. But alas, they continue to survived and finally meet death halfway through their life. Death seeing himself in them, welcomed and congratulate them for surviving.

Death asked them what is their most deepest desire.

The eldest brother, wished for power, magic more powerful than any in existence. The second brother, wished for protection for the one he loved. And the third brother, wished for his life to be void of pain. Death guided them to achieve their wish but never granted them any of it directly. Even though he had the power to granted it in seconds. In the end, none of his sons’s wish came true, since to be loved by death only means to gained his mercy. His mercy to then orchestrated your death the way he thought you wanted to. But beware, for his mercy is not freely given, for everything came with a price especially for his love.

Death loved his sons, that’s why he keeps delaying their death even though their flesh already rotted, blood coated into black, and their bones snapped with each step they took. Death gives mercy, as he is a merciful being. his hands shall be clean and devoid of his sons’s blood. For his sons, he allowed one to kill him directly, one to kill his younger siblings, and one to end them all. As he watched their downfall from his throne, death smiled to himself, praising himself to be the one who saved these poor souls from misfortune. His three beloved sons. His masterpieces. His very own deathly hallows.

#harry potter #severus snape #tom riddle #albus dumbledore #deathly hallows #animatic #fanart #digital illustration

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nateezfics · 10 months ago

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WITH SUGAR

♔ PAIRING — san x reader

♔ GENRE — smut, sugar daddy au, ceo au, sugar daddy!san, ceo!san, aged up!san, fem!reader, dom!san, sub!reader

♔ WARNINGS — smut, public sex (in an office/workplace), oral (f receiving), use of pet names (sweetheart/good girl), daddy/sir kink, sexual language

♔ WORD COUNT — 1.9k

♔ SUMMARY — “you have the sweetest taste. i’m addicted to it.”

your heels clacked rhythmically on the marble floor. the sound was hallow and echoed against the walls as you made your way through the hall. your vision was focused straight ahead, the few people that were around mere silhouettes in your periphery. you were steadfast, drawing closer to the all too familiar double doors you walked in and out of every day.

your grip tightened around the warm cup of coffee when you were only a few strides away from the double doors. you straightened your posture and inhaled. this was all routine. you did this every morning — deliver your boss’ coffee to him. just one of your many tasks as his secretary. you stopped just outside the doors and looked over the coffee cup, recounting in your head his exact order. he was very particular about how his coffee was prepared, and every morning you always felt a little nervous that something might be wrong or out of place. he was a man who knew what a liked and what he didn’t, and you were always eager to please.

your knuckles tapped against one of the doors to alert the man on the other side of your presence before you allowed yourself in. you were met with the usual sight of his grand office, with him dutifully working away at his desk in the center. as you approached, his head lifted to acknowledge you. on the outside you were every bit the collected secretary, but on the inside your heart was skipping at the sight of a small smile breaking across his face.

“ah, ms. y/l/n, you’ve arrived right on time.” san’s polite welcome made you smile as you neared his desk. he watched you as you placed his coffee in front of him, and smiled up at you with a nod. “as reliable as ever, ms. y/l/n.”

“of course, sir,” you responded gratefully. you took a few steps back to put some appropriate space between yourself and his desk before linking your hands behind your back. “is there anything else i can do for you, mr. choi?”

he reached for his coffee as he shook his head. “no, you’re good to go. i’ll send for you as needed, of course.” you nodded once just as he brought the cup to his lips, turning towards the doorway to make your exit. you were only a few strides away before your name was called.

“ms. y/l/n, how exactly did you order my coffee this morning?” you turned to see him eyeing his coffee with furrowed brows.

your heart fluttered. “i ordered it as i always do, sir. i even made sure to ask for extra sugar, just the way you like.”

san frowned at his cup of coffee as he placed it on his desk. he pushed it further away from him like it disgusted him to even look at it. “it wasn’t nearly sweet enough. much too bitter for my liking. certainly someone forgot the extra sugar.”

“perhaps i can revisit the cafe, and get you a new coffee —”

he waved dismissively. “don’t worry about it.” he sighed and stood from his chair. he stepped around the desk, drawing closer to you while you remained in place. with every step closer, the air inside the office changed. you weren’t sure when or why it had happened, but a switch had been flipped. the man before you morphed from your boss to something way less professional, something you typically only saw after office hours.

your breath caught in your throat when his hands grazed your sides, his fingers running along the dip of your waist. you were overwhelmed by his proximity and the scent of his cologne. you met his gaze which had grown much darker now, much more dangerous. you opened your mouth to speak, but he quieted you with a thumb to your lips.

“i think i have a much better idea to make up for the lack of sugar,” san said, voice low and sultry. he smirked, and you felt butterflies erupt in the pit of your stomach. “bend over my desk, and take off your panties.”

your face was hot from his words. “wait, are you sure —”

“yes, now do as i say, sweetheart.”

sweetheart. when he called you that, you always did as you were told. your dynamic with him went beyond that of a ceo and his secretary. he showered you with riches, and you gave him your body. it was a win-win situation for you, though you never imagined he’d ever attempt to explore this part of your relationship in his own office during hours. your front met the edge of his desk, and after pushing away some of the paperwork, you leaned forward until you were pressed flat over it.

“panties. off.” his voice was firm. you hiked your dress up over your hips, exposing yourself to his view. you pulled at the lace fabric of your panties, slipping them down your thighs until they fell on their own to the floor around your ankles. you kicked them to side, and now you were fully bare for the man just behind you. you heard his shoes against the floor as he closed the distance between you.

you sighed when his clothed erection pressed into you. you moaned at the hardness of him, skin erupting in goosebumps when his hands palmed your ass.

“that’s a good girl,” he praised, and though you couldn’t see it, he smirked at the sight of you beneath him, bent over his desk. “now, stay just like this for me. you can keep quiet, can’t you?”

before you could answer, two of his fingers rubbed at your clit. you bit your lip hard, and nodded at him. you feared that if you tried to speak, moans would spill out. you remained mostly silent while his fingers toyed with your sex, but nothing could’ve prepared you for what he did next.

san was on his knees, your pussy right in his face. he was so quick you almost didn’t even register that he’d moved until you felt the press of his tongue against your clit. his tongue licked a long stripe over your folds, collecting your wetness. he groaned just as your back arched.

“san!” his name escaped your lips at the jolt of pleasure. just the mere press of his tongue against you had you arching over his desk. his hands gripped your thighs tightly.

san pulled his tongue away from you at the sound of his own name. “i’m sorry, what was that, sweetheart?”

you realized your mistake. “daddy,” you amended. you felt him kiss your sex and mewled at the contact.

“that’s better. now,” san sucked on your clit, “be quiet. wouldn’t want the others in the office to hear me make a mess of you, would we?”

you responded with a simple nod, though you weren’t sure he could even see it from his place on the floor. you relaxed over the desk just as he resumed his feasting, face pressing into the cool, wooden surface. you felt immensely exposed like this, dress hiked up your body and lower half bare, san beneath you with his face full of your cunt. from this angle, anyone could’ve walked in and had a direct view of the debauchery unfolding here. the doors were not locked, and as ceo, san was certainly a popular man amongst the office. the threat of being caught didn’t seem to bother him, and to be honest, you felt excitement when you should’ve felt nervous. there wasn’t much room to think of anything other than his tongue and the pleasure it provided.

san’s tongue lapped at your cunt like it was the most delectable meal he’d ever tasted, like it was some sweet treat he’d been craving. he inhaled your scent and savored the flavor of you. there was something intoxicating about your pussy, something so addicting. san definitely had a sweet tooth, and you were the perfect indulgence. he found himself unable to pull away, not even caring for the need to breathe. he sucked on your clit and released it with a pop! “you have the sweetest taste. i’m addicted to it.”

you couldn’t respond, not when it was taking everything in your power not to dissolve into a moaning mess on his desk. you lifted your head to gaze outside the large window, watching the concrete jungle outside. the city was bustling and busy as usual, all the people within the buildings nearby unaware of the sin happening within this office. you hoped the city view would offer some sort of a distraction, but san’s tongue plunging into your hole took up every single one of your senses and flooded them with pleasure. you covered your mouth with your hand when a moan came dangerously close to slipping out.

“you’re sweeter than sugar, sweetheart. and i’d be happy to let my teeth rot if it meant i could have you on my tongue forever.” san’s words were whispered against your sex like a reverent promise. his lips moved over you while his spoke, only pushing you closer to the edge. “doing so good for me, so so good.”

his praise offered some encouragement as you began to grow insane from the pleasure. you were biting your hand now just to keep quiet. you needed to cum soon or else you’d end up disobeying him. your hips began to move, grinding your sex against his face in desperation.

san laughed, grip on your thighs tightening to keep your hips still. “is my sweetheart desperate to cum, huh?” when you didn’t respond verbally, he patted your thigh. “use your words, sweetheart.”

you exhaled shakily, releasing your hand from your mouth. “yes, daddy. i need to cum so bad…”

he hummed, using his thumbs to spread your pussy open. you were absolutely soaked, slick glistening over your folds. he almost came in his pants from the sight. “okay, sweetheart. cum for me like the good little girl you are.”

he fucked you with his tongue until stars exploded in your vision. you came on his tongue in a rush, pleasure surging through your veins. you shook over his desk, crumbling under the weight of the euphoria. san lapped and sucked until you began to come down from the high. you felt him trail kisses on your thighs before he got up from his knees.

san pulled your dress down to cover you. “you did so well for me.” his gaze shifted to the long forgotten cup of coffee sitting on his desk not too far from you. “and you were better than any sweetener.”

with his help, you lifted from his desk to stand. your legs were wobbly in your post orgasm state, and you wished you hadn’t decided to wear heels. your eyes found san’s before dropping to his still hardened cock. “daddy, what about you?”

san chuckled as he looked down. he was throbbing in his pants, cock feeling more than a little neglected. “we’ll worry about that later, sweetheart. i need you to go back to work now.”

you watched him reach down to retrieve your panties. heat rose to your cheeks. when you reached to take them, he jerked them just out of your grasp. you looked at him with confusion.

he smirked, stuffing the panties into his suit pocket. “i didn’t say you’d be getting these back. we are far from finished, sweetheart.” he leaned forward to graze his lips across your ear. “i will see you again after hours like usual. now, go back to work, ms. y/l/n.”

AUTHOR’S NOTES — this has taken me so long to upload simply because i kept erasing it all and rewriting it :’)

i am slowly but surely getting closer to finishing this spoiled series! it started out as a 3k follower milestone celebration, but now i’ve recently reached 6k followers. to say i’m thankful would be an understatement. the support is mind-blowing, i am beyond surprised at how much my blog has flourished over the years. thank you for every follow, every reblog, every fic rec mention, and for every nice comment left on my fics or in my askbox. it means a lot to me, though i may not always take the time to say it. thank you, thank you, thank you!!

please, if you enjoyed this, make sure to reblog it and leave some feedback!! 💞

TAG LIST — @abiaswreck @jungkookieprincess @lilie-dctl @mjyungi @marievllr-abg @mylovelymito @nebulousbookshelf @northerngalxy @silverpixiedust23 @staytinyinmybpack @thesafecafe (if you’d like to be on my tag list, find the tag list form link on the pinned post on my blog!)

NETWORKS — @kflixnet @wonderlandnet

ALL FICS ARE THE ORIGINAL IDEAS AND WRITTEN WORKS OF NATEEZFICS. DO NOT PLAGIARIZE. REPOSTING WITHOUT CONSENT FROM THE AUTHOR NATEEZFICS IS PROHIBITED!

#wonderlandnet #san smut #ateez smut #san smut drabbles #ateez smut drabbles #ateez x reader #san x reader #ateez fanfiction #san fanfiction #ateez imagines #ateez scenarios

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scarecrowwizard · 1 year ago

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jax for the blorbo bingo? (only if you're still feeling it haha)

JAX JAX JAX JAX JAX JAX JAX JAX JAX JAX JAX Jsorry I mean I'm very normal about him

#hallow receives an ask #tearsoftime0086 #ft little jax scribble because i love him #also i'm always up for ask games!! :D

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the-trinket-witch · 4 months ago

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Eugenio Enters the Hunt

(Monster Lover AU concept courtesy of Writing-Heiress)

With a name easy enough to call out in a cry for help, Eu wasn't initially set on becoming a monster hunter. The town they were staying in, one of many they've drifted through, found itself under the vengeful paw of a raging beast. It all happened so fast; Eu suddenly found the same beast under their boot sighing out its last breath. Their battle had dragged out into the woods, to the beast's den. Eu suddenly felt as if they'd been the one staked through. A weak cry from the back of the cave alerted them to a now abandoned little one. It would be much to small to remember that night, and Eu needed to amend their action. They were a believer in the notion that nurture could overcome nature with a gentle enough hand.

Their deed had drawn the townsfolk to thrust them into the arms of the Red Hoods. A member helped them harvest their first weapon: claws from the beast fashioned to retain magic. Another showed the secrets of how to create a potion, one that allowed the body to receive their familiar and grant them certain abilities. When asked what they did before, Eu couldn't really remember. For the longest time they wandered and did odd work to feed themselves. Now they had a purpose.

There are many a monster back on the road. Neither Eu nor Grim are given much opportunity to rest. But lately they've been coming to find a bit of comfort in the 'coincidental' run ins with someone they nicknamed Hornton. It was all they could think of as the stranger wouldn't give his name. What he did give, though, was eventually a small peridot necklace; a 'Gift'. Eu can feel there's magic imbued, but can't tell what kind. Did it increase their magical output? Allow for faster healing? Hornton could only laugh to himself as this curious human willingly put the tracking device around their neck.

TAGLIST

@ceruleancattail @squidwen @thecosmicjackalope @vaporvipermedia @writing-heiress

@oya-oya-okay @k-looking-glass-house @thehollowwriter @rainesol @cyn-write

@heartscrypt @honey-milk-depresso @br3adtoasty @jackiecronefield @ruggiethethuggie

@hoboyherewego @achy-boo @oreoskys @oseathepebble @oathofoaks

@tunabesimpin @hamstergal @fumikomiyasaki @valse-a-mille-temps @hallowed-delights

@kimikitti @plutos-hell @thetwstwildcard @atwstedstory @comingyourlugubriousness

@ice-cweam-sod4 @twst-the-night-away @nammanarin @scint1llat3

#Trinket's Rattlin' Bones #twisted wonderland #twst oc #eugenio hernandez #malleus draconia #twst au #monster lover au #twisted wonderland au #twst monster lovers au

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absurdthirst · 3 months ago

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Kinktober 2024: October 15th

Day 15: Hair Pulling // Glory Hole // Teasing

Mando x F!Reader

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 1.6k

Warnings: Glory hole, anonymous pleasure, idiots, blow jobs, vaginal fingering, Mando being impatient, deep throating, cum swallowing

|| Kinktober List || MasterList ||

Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.

Needing to be alone in that ship is a luxury neither one of you have. The sleeping shifts in the little bunk aren’t working. He can’t even take his helmet off without inhaling the scent of whatever soap or perfume you use. Filling his nostrils and making his cock ache in the darkness. He can’t even take himself in hand to relieve the problem. Too wary of you hearing his grunts and groans as he fucks his hand, you seem to hear every sound he makes as it echoes through the metal hull of the Razor Crest.

Finally, he’s ready to return to Nevarro. To dump off the bounties that you’ve collected and gather more pucks. His rifle is left behind this time, not needed for where he will go after his meeting with Karga and he doesn’t want to have to store it somewhere else. The little storefront he will visit doesn’t allow rifles, just regular blasters.

Running through the sandy alleys of Nevarro, you tread a familiar path. One that you slip off the ship and escape to every time you are here. Mando never asks any questions, never tells you where he goes for hours at a time. Both of you have a don’t ask, don’t tell policy about your time spent on this planet and you are happy for that.

You had found this place by accident. Looking for a store that sold display arrays that you could modify to fit the Crest, you had walked into The Hole. Karga had mentioned it once, chuckling and telling Mando about the wondrous treasures that could be found within its hallowed walls. The wall of metal beside you had practically shoved you from the booth and told you that you were leaving, your questions about what kind of place it was left unanswered.

You had assumed it was a junk store. A place where people deposit their junk that is treasures to someone else. You had gone looking for it when you were bored and discovered why the Bounty Hunter’s Guild leader chuckle was so dirty when he mentioned it. It was a Glory Hole.

You love going. The woman’s side is alright, but after one experience with a Twi’lek’s fangs, you had decided to stick with giving rather than receiving. So you come here and sit behind the wall to suck a stranger’s cock, fingering yourself while you do it.

The Sullustan that runs this place doesn’t mind it at all. He doesn’t pay you and he gets to have a paying customer pleased. For him, it’s a boon when you walk in the door and he makes sure that he always assigns you the first customer to come when you are in your little booth.

Mando stalks down the street, his head turned straight as he walks with a purpose. He will just slip inside The Hole and lay down a few credits. Get some relief that is sorely needed to make another trip with you on his ship. The payment from Karga was generous, but half belongs to you. The pucks on his belt will be dealt with soon enough, after he’s lightened his load in the anonymity of the glory hole and finds you again.

He doesn’t know who is on the other side, but he always imagines you. Takes fragments of expressions you’ve given him over the months together as he closes his eyes behind his helmet and lets the mouth around him suck him off. Already hard beneath the flight suit, he steps inside the door and finds the proprietor to give him the required credits.

Waiting never takes long. You’re already slick with arousal, fingers rolling over your clit teasingly and lightly dipping inside your cunt as you kneel in front of the hole. The cushion for your knees is a lovely little boon to your aching bones from kneeling on the metal grate floor of the Crest when you are working behind some mech panel. You hear shuffling, cunt clenching in anticipation for the cock that will be fed through the hole and presented to your hungry mouth.

The booth is private. Something that Mando appreciates, even if he doesn’t do more than pull his cock out of his flight suit. He can relax, enjoy the pleasure without worrying about an attack from behind. Shuffling inside and closing the door behind him, he works on pulling his stiff length out with a quiet groan.

You freeze. Aware of that groan, that sound. You know who makes it and yet you can’t fucking believe it. Mando couldn’t have come here. There is no way he would do this. You break your own rule and crouch down, peeking through the hole and choke when the familiar flash of orange tipped gloves can be seen.

Pulling back, you don’t know what to do. You should say something, stop him. You know that he doesn’t want you, he’s never made any move on you. Never given you any clue that he finds you to be anything more than adequate help and an annoyance.

Before you can find your voice, the thick heft of his cock slides through the hole and into sight. It’s fucking gorgeous. Making your mouth water at the girth, the length. He’s more than a mouthful and you want to taste him. You swallow, still unsure of what to do.

Mando looks down, his cock is in the hole and yet there isn't a mouth around him. Pulling his hips back slightly and pushing forward again, wondering if the worker isn’t paying attention. He’s already aching, the head of his cock nearly purple with repressed need and his voice is slightly impatient. “Suck it.”

You shiver, the growl coming from the other side of the wall shoots straight to your core and you can imagine that impassive visor looking down on you mercilessly. This is your fucking dream come true and he doesn’t even know it’s you.

The small drop of liquid built on the tip calls to you and leaning forward, you lap at the tip, eliciting a dark, deep groan from Mando on the other side. Tasting his very essence and enjoying the salty drip on your taste buds before you start to lick down the length of him.

His head tips back, visor pointed up at the ceiling as the wet heat drags up and down his cock. He needs this. Perhaps needing a pussy more, he will take this blow job and imagine you on your knees in front of him. Taking his cock down your throat and looking up at him with those pretty big eyes of yours. “Fuck.” He hisses.

Your cunt quivers, fingers slipping in the slick that is now pouring out of your needy hole and you take the head of his cock into your mouth right as you bury your fingers down to the knuckles in your pussy.

His fist curls tight, resting against the wall as he feels the mouth take him deeper. Eyes rolling back in his head as he groans again. Letting the pleasure of this wet heat surround him. “Take it all.” He growls.

Fuck. You whimper around his cock because the man will be the death of you. He gives dirty talk a first class name through that modulator. Doing as he ordered immediately and taking him deeper into your mouth, you hum around him and push your fingers in and out of your soaked cunt.

He gets lost in the sensation. The soft sucking and the hollowed cheeks when the pull on his shaft is a bit stronger. The fluttering of the tongue around him and driving him crazy when that mouth pulls back and that tongue presses against the slit. Whoever it is has some talent and he still imagines that it’s you pleasuring him.

You put everything you hand into this blow job. Your hand that isn’t buried in your pants is wrapped around the base of his cock, wanting to keep as much of him on this side of the wall and give him as much pleasure as you can. The fact that your fingers barely fit around the base makes you moan around him, trying to stuff a third finger inside your aching cunt while you bob your head.

“That’s it.” He growls, his body tensing under the pressure of that mouth on the other side of the hole. “I’m gonna cum, cyar'ika.” He hisses. “And you’re gonna drink every drop.”

You whine, wanting that more than anything as you plunge your fingers in and out, rolling your hips down onto your hand to ride it while you suck his cock. You want every drop, you want to drink him down and make him limp with pleasure.

Your own pleasure is so closely linked with this moment that you feel your body starting to prime to cum when his cock starts to pulse.

It takes just a moment, from the pulling of his balls against his body to the stream of cum that bursts onto your tongue with a low groan of praise that you can’t even hear because your blood is rushing in your ears as you start to swallow down great, greedy gulps of him while your cunt spasms around your fingers. Moaning Mando’s name around his length inaudibly, rolling your eyes at how much you love that this has happened. How you want it again already.

Your name is poised on his lips, barely being able to hold it back. Riding out his orgasm with slow rocks of his hips as the mouth moans and whimpers around him. He’s never had such an active blow job before and he’s already wondering how fast he can capture those bounties so he can come back to The Hole to seek it out again.

#pedro pascal #kinktober #kinktober 2024 #absurdthirst kinktober #the mandalorian #mando x reader #mando x you #mando x f!reader #mando smut #mando imagine #mando fanfiction

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bloodibambiidoll · 1 year ago

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The First Time I Saw You

Summary: You and your girlfriend have some fun with Eddie in his van after one of Corroded Coffins shows. (This is the prequel to my fic See You Again, it can be read as a standalone and it doesn’t really matter what order you read them in if you do want to read both.)Wk:6.5k

Warnings: M/F/F threesome, oral (m&f receiving), fingering, hand job, like one use of “sir”, a little spanking, reader is in an established queer relationship with my OC, Dom/sub dynamics, switch!eddie, sub!reader, Dom!OC, choking, spit kink, hair pulling, van sex.18+MNDI!!

A/N: Omg okay, I finally finished this. I’ve had it half done for like 5 months and today I got this random spark to get it done!! Thank you to my beloved @babygorewhore @bimbobaggins69 & @reidsbtch for beta reading this baby for me. Divider is @firefly-graphics. Moodboard.

“I’m just going to go ask him if he wants to.” Chloe has a determined look in her eyes as she looks at the metal head across the bar having an after show drink with his friends.

“Chloe! You can’t just walk up to him and ask him if he wants to fool around with us. What if he thinks we’re creepy?”

“Baby…” She grabs your face in her hands, her blue eyes are filled with soft reassurance but also authority. “He is not going to think that. If two hot babes walked up to you and just straight up asked you if you were down to fuck what would you do?”

Your eyebrows shoot up and your eyes widen as you imagine yourself in that scenario.

“Damn… I guess you’re right, I’d go crazy if that happened to me…” You bit your lip, your eyes glazing over as you imagined yourself and Chloe with another woman. Or even two.

“I’m always right.” Her voice snapped you out of your slight trance. “I’m going to talk to him, do you want to stay here or do you want to come with me?”

She gave you the option, knowing how nervous you can be sometimes, letting you know without saying it that she understands if you want to wait here for her.

“I feel like it would look kinda weird if I just sat over here… I’ll go with you.” You shrugged, letting her pull you up by your hand and guide you across the bar to the table where he and his friends sat.

When you approached they all stopped talking at once, surprise evident on their faces.

“Hello boys. Eddie, may we have a word?” She barely even spared his bandmates a glance as she stared directly at him.

“Uh- Yeah, totally.” His voice shook a little as he spoke, like he was nervous.

“Cool.” She smiled at him before turning on her heel and walking towards the back door of the bar where they had a small smoking area. Her hand is still in yours, pulling you behind her.

Eddie stares after you in shock for a moment, shaking his head to make sure he isn’t dreaming. He takes a deep breath before getting up from the table to follow you outside.

Chloe leans against the wall, pulling her packs of cigarettes out of her purse and lighting one. Seconds later Eddie comes walking out the door, looking a little flustered.

“Want one?” Chloe shook her pack at him with a smirk.

“Yeah, thanks.” He went to grab one but she pulled it back before he could. Taking one from the pack herself and holding it up to his lips expectantly. He obliges, taking the stick between his lips, shivering at the feeling of her soft fingers against his skin.

She pulls the lighter from her back pocket, holding it up to his cigarette to light it. When he inhales his cheeks hallow a bit and you could just barely make out a dust of pink across them. You wanted to lick his face, if you were being honest with yourself. You couldn’t stop thinking about how good he might taste, probably salty from sweating on stage, the thought made your thighs clench.

Chloe throws her arm around your shoulder, drawing you close to her side with Eddie less than a foot in front of you.

“How did you know my name?” He asked curiously, not necessarily addressing either one of you but looking between you both.

“You only yell it every time you play a show.” Chloe chuckled, playfully rolling her eyes.

“Damn. I guess you’re right. I don’t know your names though…”

“I’m Chloe… and this is my Angel of a girlfriend.” She says your name so sweetly, like you’re her grandest prize.

“I’ve uh- seen you guys around at a few shows, I’ve been meaning to introduce myself and thank you guys for always coming out. I really appreciate it.”

“Of course Eddie, I really do like your guys’ music, I remember the first show I came to a few months back I was blown away by your covers but when you played that first original song? The one with all the D&D references? I was shocked that you weren’t already famous. It was almost like it was a whole campaign worth of story packed into a few minutes.”

You spoke for the first time and Eddie almost pinched himself. You, the girl he’s been trying to find the courage to talk to for weeks are not only talking to him but you’re talking about music. His music and how you understood it. He didn’t even feel bad in that moment for trying to think of any possible way he could steal you from your girlfriend. He was pretty sure he was in love with you now.

“Wow. You really noticed that? I don’t think anyone outside of my friend group has really picked up on that, and if they have, they didn’t say anything. That’s awesome, thank you…” He was fully blushing now and he tried to hide it with a drag off his cigarette.

“She’s very observant, aren’t you baby? Especially if there’s a hot boy involved.”

Eddie stood there trying to formulate a response with eyes the size of saucers.

He looks between you and Chloe, her with a Cheshire Cat grin and you with a giggly nervous one. He was trying to wrap his mind around why you were talking to him, where you fucking with him?

“Don’t look so surprised honey, you’re hot, beautiful even.” Chloe’s voice is saccharine and dripping with lust. The compliment isn’t even directed at you and she still manages to make you feel flustered.

“Me?” He points both pointer fingers towards himself, as if there’s anyone else out there besides the three of you.

“Yeah, you. Who else?” You look at him, biting your lip to hold in a laugh.

“Oh! Well thank you… You’re uh - you’re really beautiful too, both of you.” He takes the final drag of his cigarette with shaky hands, stomping it out with his boot.

“You’re really cute when you’re nervous, did you know that?” Your girlfriend’s icy blue eyes drink Eddie in hungrily, her tongue running along her plush bottom lip.

“I have a question, well, we have a question for you.” Chloe’s boldness has always been a turn on for you, the way she sees something she wants and always gets it, drives you crazy. If it were up to you, you’d both be staring at Eddie from across the bar still. She really does complete you, in every way.

“Yeah you can uh, you can ask me anything.” His voice sounded breathless already and all you’ve done is give him a few base level compliments. You couldn’t believe you built him up to be this untouchable sex god and here he is adorably fumbling over his words.

“You wanna fool around with us? In your van maybe?” She said it like it was the most casual question in the world.

“Wha-? Do I wanna - What? Are you serious?”

“As a heart attack, sweetie.”

She smirked at him as she approached him, closing the distance between them.

Eddie’s eyes went wide and his breathing picked up. His heart was beating so fast he was scared you could hear it from a few feet away. Chloe brings her hand up to cup his cheek, running her thumb along his bottom lip, spreading the spit around that had collected there from him nervously licking it.

She was pleasantly surprised when he took the digit into his mouth, wrapping his lips around it and swirling his tongue.

“Oh yeah, this is gonna be fun.”

•

That’s how you found yourself giggling with your girlfriend and Eddie Munson as you climbed into the back of his 1971 Chevrolet Beauville. It was surprisingly clean, which you assumed was partly due to the fact that all the gear he must normally store back here was all still inside. There were a few pillows and blankets stacked in one corner and he hastily spread them out for you.

As soon as he sat down next to you Chloe was crawling into his lap, straddling him.

“You gonna be a good boy for me? I’ll only let you play with my girl if you’re good.” She snakes both of her hands into his hair and tugs, causing him to let out a groan that went straight between your legs.

“Yeah I’ll uh - I’ll be good, promise.” He nodded the best he could with your girlfriend's hands still tangled in his hair and you felt the wetness in your panties grow as you watched him submit to her so easily.

“Good. Kiss her.” Chloe uses her grip on his hair to turn his head toward you before releasing it.

You turn your head to meet his and eagerly smash your lips together. His lips are soft and he tastes like the cigarette he just smoked and the beer he was drinking earlier but there was something else there that was just him and you wanted more. You turn your body towards him so you can throw your leg over Chloe’s and press your pussy against his thigh. Your hand comes up between them to rest on his chest and you subconsciously start to grind against him. His tongue swipes along your bottom lip and you immediately grant him access, the taste of him enhancing tenfold.

“Baby.” Your girlfriend’s voice causes you to break the kiss and look at her immediately, always eager to please her, always her girl good. “Why don’t you take your panties off and sit on Eddie’s lap?”

Eddie’s eyes roll back and he nearly chokes at the thought of you in his lap. You nod eagerly and Chloe slides off of him so you can switch places with her. You crawl into his lap, your wet pussy pressing directly against his hard cock causing you to let out a breathy moan.

“Hi Eddie.” You look at him almost innocently but your hips grind down on him sinfully and he wants to fucking eat you alive. But he also wants to be respectful of the dynamic you have with your girl. He wanted to be good for her, wanted to hear her say those two words again… good boy. He never thought he would be into something like that but the way Chloe looks at him and talks to him makes him want to do whatever she says.

“Hey princess, you’re so pretty.” He brings his hands up to cup your face, running his thumbs along your cheeks as he looks at you almost lovingly and it makes your head spin.

Before you have time to process his gentleness you feel Chloe’s hand wrap around your throat from behind, pulling your head back towards her.

“Now, I didn’t give you permission to kiss him, did I baby?” Her voice is almost a growl and makes you subconsciously grind down on Eddie again, causing him to throw his head back and moan.

“No - no - you didn’t. I’m sorry.” You whimpered, feeling your head starting to go fuzzy for her already.

“That’s okay, I’ll let it slide just this once, because I know you're excited. Now be a good girl for me and bend over.” She releases your neck, pushing you by your back so your chest is flush against Eddie and your ass is in the air. She lands a harsh smack on your left cheek causing you to jerk forward and yelp.

Her fingers easily sliding through your slick lips and over your already sensitive clit.

“Mmm baby girl, you’re so wet for us already, you’re practically dripping and we’ve barely even started. This slutty little pussy is just so desperate huh?” Without warning she shoves two fingers knuckle deep inside you, they slip in and she hooks her fingers, finding that spot inside you that makes you go crazy with ease.

You push back against her fingers, your bare clit rubbing against the rough material of Eddie’s jeans causing you to let out a moan that makes him feel like he’s going to bust before he even has his cock out.

“Can I kiss Eddie now, please please? I promise I’ll be sooo mmmm - so good. FUCK!” Chloe’s fingers pick up speed, your hips meeting every thrust and your clit dragging deliciously against the metal head underneath you. You feel yourself getting close already, your hips subconsciously grind back, fucking yourself harder against her fingers. You're about to tip over the edge when she pulls her fingers from you, causing you to whine at the loss.

“Don’t be greedy, baby. I’m gonna let you cum. Eventually.” Her hand comes down on your ass again and you full on moan this time, desperate for anything. “Why don’t you scoot down and suck Eddie off while I eat this pretty pussy? Bet you’d like that huh?”

“Uh huh - yes please…” you lift your head from Eddie’s chest so you can look into his big brown eyes. He’s giving you this look like he wants to eat you alive but there’s a hint of nervousness underlying there and you want to wash it away. “Would you like that Eddie? Want me to suck you off?”

“You have no fucking idea how badly I want that, sweetheart…” He bites his lip, his eyes roaming your face, tits, neck. He wants to mark you all over. He wants to bend you over and rail you into the floor of his van but he also wants to be respectful of the dynamic you have with your girlfriend. He’s never done this with two girls before and he really doesn’t want to fuck it up.

You pull your shirt over your head, tossing it somewhere in the van behind you. Eddie’s eyes look like they’re literally going to pop out of his head when he sees that you aren’t wearing a bra, your bare tits now on display. He just wants to latch onto a nipple and never stop sucking.

“Take this stuff off, I wanna see you…” You tug on his jacket and battle vest, then pull on the front of his band tee. A pout set on your lips. You don’t have time to enjoy the show though because you’re being pulled by your ankles down Eddie’s body. Your bare nipples rub against the rough denim of his jeans and you moan at the feeling.Chloe tugs on you until your face level with the metal heads crotch, and then she grabs you by the hips, hiking your ass in the air. You barely have time to process her movements before she licks from your clit and up your slit, slipping her tongue between your wet folds.

“Oh fuuuuck.” You moan as you look up Eddie, his top half is now bare. He has tattoos on his chest, black ink against alabaster skin, his hair is already a slight mess, and he’s panting as he watches your girlfriend devour you from behind. Your fingers reach for his belt buckle, undoing it with ease, then you make quick work of his button and zipper. You tug on his waistband and he helps you pull his pants over his ass by lifting his hips. When his cock springs free it hits his bare stomach and you can’t hold in your gasp at the sight of him.

He’s huge. Thick and long. There’s a bead of precum dripping from his tip and he’s so hard it almost looks painful. You hold eye contact with him while you spit on your hand before taking his shaft in your now slick palm. You stroke him gently a few times before taking his head in your mouth, swirling your tongue around it. The moan that leaves him is one of the hottest things you’ve ever heard and you want to hear him do it again and again so you take more of him in your mouth, still using your hand to stroke what isn’t being devoured by your lips and tongue.

Chloe takes your clit in her mouth and sucks hard, her tongue flicking against the bud. You feel two of her fingers circle your entrance before she’s inserting them back inside you, pulling a loud moan from you. Eddie throws his head back at the feeling of your mouth vibrating around him. You take the rest of him in your mouth, your nose nestled against the patch of coarse hair at the base of his cock.

“Oh fuck - fuck - sweetheart, oh god.” He throws his head back against the back of the driver's seat, exposing the long expanse of his neck. You want to cover him in bruises so he won’t be able to forget about you for weeks.

He glances down at you. Drool is dripping from the sides of your mouth and onto his balls and you’re looking up at him through your lashes. You aren’t moving your head but you’re swirling your tongue around his shaft and he swears If you don’t let him breathe in a second he’s going to bust down your throat. You pull off of him with a pop, much to his relief.

“Oh shit, I’m gonna - fucking cum.” Eddie watches as your eyes roll in the back of your head before your face falls forward onto his bare stomach. Your hands grab onto his sides, your nails digging into his skin deliciously. He looks up at Chloe and she’s already staring at him with a glint in her eyes. Her face is still buried in between your legs and she’s sucking on your clit like her life depends on it. She curls her fingers just right and that’s all it takes. She feels your walls tighten around her digits and a loud moan leaves your lips. You shove your hips against her face as hard as you can, chasing every last second of your high. He’s pretty sure he could cum just fucking watching this.

“Good fucking girl, that’s my good girl.” She sits up, rubbing her hand over the globes of your ass, soothing you as you come back down to earth. She leans over you and brings the fingers that were inside you to Eddie’s lips. “Open up, pretty boy.”

You raise your head just in time to watch him take her fingers into her mouth, his plush pink lips wrapping around her slender slick covered digits. He moans at the taste of you and it causes you to whimper. God they’re both so hot.

You feel her weight lift off of you and raise your head from Eddie’s stomach, looking over your shoulder at her. You watch her crawl forward and snake her fingers into Eddie’s curly mane, pulling his lips to hers in a bruising kiss. You watch the way his thick ringed fingers wrap around her plush hips through her ripped jean shorts and it makes you clench your thighs. She’s wearing too many clothes for your liking. Chloe is always first and foremost a giver, to the point that she often forgets about herself. But you never forget.

You push yourself up on your knees so you can come up behind her and rest your hands on top of Eddie’s. You push her cherry red hair to the side and place sloppy wet kisses along the column of her throat. You hear gaspy little muffled moans leaving her lips as Eddie continues to devour her mouth with his own. You snake your hands around her waist, reaching for her studded belt, you unbuckle it as your kisses start to travel down her tank top strap covered shoulder. You undo her shorts the rest of the way so you can shove your hand down the front of them, your fingers easily finding her slick lips. You gather her wetness before bringing the tips of your digits to her clit, circling it.

“Oh my god, baby girl, yes.” She throws her head back against your shoulder as you insert two fingers inside her, your palm grinding down on her clit as you thrust them inside her.

Eddie pushes her cut up band tee over her chest, revealing her also braless tits. God, you guys were going to fucking kill him. They were so nice it took him a second to do more than stare. You couldn’t blame him, your girlfriend's tits were one of your favorite parts of her. Chloe has big tits, there’s no other way to say it. They’re supple and she has great nipples and you could suck on them for hours. After a second he breaks from his trance, roughly taking them in his large hands. He pinches her already hard nipples between his fingers and it causes her to whine. One of your favorite sounds.

“Spit.” She holds her hand in front of your mouth and you oblige, letting a string of spit fall into her palm. She brings it to Eddie’s cock, immediately jerking him off hard and fast. A loud groan rips through him as he leans forward and takes one of her nipples in his mouth.

You shove her shorts down her hips and she helps you kick them off her boot covered feet. Your hand finds her center again, plunging two fingers deep inside her while your palm continues its assault on her clit. She’s still jerking Eddie off and he’s mouthing all over her tits, leaving them covered in his spit. It’s one of the hottest things you’ve ever seen. You curl your fingers against her g-spot and bring your lips to suck on that spot on her neck you know drives her crazy.

“Fuck- oh my fucking goddd! Yeah, you guys are so good for me, you’re gonna make me fucking cum.” Chloe pants and her hips start to move in tandem with your hand, the hand she’s jerking Eddie off with is merely holding onto his shaft now and you can feel her walls clench around you.

“Please cum for me, I’ll be so so good for you, I just want you to cum. You’re so pretty when you cum.” You’re pathetically begging for her to fall apart for you but you don’t even care, you just want to make her feel good.

“Ohmyfuckinggod - I’m cumming!!” Her hips pick up speed and her arm shoots out behind her to grab onto your hair, pulling it while her walls spasm around your fingers. You fuck them into her until she grabs your wrist and uses it to pull your fingers from her core. Eddie reaches over to grab your hand, greedily sucking her juices from you. “I think I wanna ride you now, pretty boy. What do you say?”

“Oh god, fucking yes please.” His voice is needy and desperate and you want to bottle it up and listen to it on repeat on a rainy day.

You watch as Chloe throws her leg over his thighs so she can straddle his lap, her bare cunt making contact with his shaft. They both moan in unison at the feeling, her hips move back and forth to glide her slick lips along his cock. You watch as she raises up to her knees, she takes him in her hand and lines him up with her entrance. Chloe isn’t one to be slow, with anything really, so she immediately slams all the way down on his cock. Grinding her hips flush against him.

“Holy fucking shit, oh my god - fuck - you feel so good.” He grabs handfuls of her thick ass as she grinds down on him, her tits swaying deliciously in his face. Then she starts bouncing, hard and fast. You watch the way her pussy sucks him in over and over again, and whimper at the sight. You can see a milky ring of your girlfriend’s arousal around the base of Eddie’s cock and you find yourself wanting to lick it. But his jeans are in the way, so you make quick work of his boots, pulling them off along with his jeans.

“Shit - thank you sweetheart - ohmyfuck!” Eddie lets out a loud moan when you lean forward and lick across his balls. You take one into your mouth, swirling your tongue around it before repeating the action on the other side. You swirl your tongue along his sack before licking up to where him and Chloe are connected. Both their moans increase when they feel your tongue wrap around the back of Eddie’s shaft, licking at your girlfriend’s milky cum.

“Oh baby girl, fuck that feels so good.” Chloe moans when you slip your tongue inside her along Eddie’s cock, fucking it into her a few times. “Come up here though, wanna see your pretty face when I cum.”

You crawl over to her, sitting on your knees beside her. She takes your face in her hands, kissing you roughly, moaning at the taste of herself on your tongue.

“Give Eddie a kiss too baby.” She grabs the hair at the nape of your neck, using her grip to turn your face toward Eddie. He grabs your face in his hands, slamming his lips against yours. He immediately swipes his tongue against your bottom lip and you intertwine it with yours. Chloe is still riding him like her life depends on it, causing him to moan into your mouth. “You should choke her Eddie, you can be rough with her if you want, that’s okay with me.”

If that wasn’t music to his fucking ears. He’s wanted to just grab you and fucking take you this entire time, your submissive demeanor was driving him insane. He wasn’t sure how to bring it up, but now that he didn’t have to? Fuck. He was going to wreck you.

“You want that baby? Want me to be rough with you?” He grabs your jaw in his hand, pinching your cheeks together. The look in his eyes was different now, more feral.

“God, yes.” He takes the chance immediately, the hand on your jaw coming down to squeeze your throat just right. “I want you to use me Eddie.”

“That’s so fucking hot.” Chloe moans, picking up the pace of her thrusts on Eddie’s cock.

“I still haven’t gotten my hands on this pussy, take your skirt off for me, princess.” He groans when he feels Chloe’s pussy clench around him, releasing your throat so you can throw off your skirt and shoes. When you return to his side his fingers glide down your body, between your tits, over your mound. He slides them between your legs, gathering your wetness.

“Fuck, you’re so wet for us. I wanna make you cum.” He cups your pussy, thrusting his palm against your clit. The tips of his fingers dip into your dripping hole every few thrusts but never go fully inside you. You're so wet his hand is practically gliding against you and it’s making noises you’d be embarrassed of if you weren’t so turned on. “You want my fingers baby?”

“Uh huh - yeah please, sir.” Your eyes are wide and glassy, the name slipping out of you almost subconsciously. Eddie nearly cums at the sound. Chloe is still riding him like it’s her job, one of her hands in his hair, tugging it deliciously. Her other hand reaches out to replace Eddie’s around your throat and your eyes roll back.

“I think you can cum like this though, don’t you? I think I want the next thing inside you to be my cock.” His palm speeds up against your pussy, determined to pull an orgasm from you and Chloe both. He hopes he isn’t talking out of his ass though, because he’s honestly trying so hard not to bust his load right now.

“I think he’s right baby, I think you’re such a desperate little slut you can get off just from grinding on Eddie’s palm.” Chloe uses her grip on your throat to pull your face close to hers, her signature Cheshire grin painted across her lips.

Eddie plants his feet on the floor of the van, using his free hand to grip onto Chloe’s ass as he starts to meet her erratic thrusts. You can tell she’s getting close when her mouth falls open and her eyes roll back. Her grip on her throat tightens and she’s letting out those whiny moans that she only lets slip when she’s about to cum. You bring your hand between their bodies so you can rub circles on her clit. It only takes a few seconds before she’s tipping over the edge. Her walls clench around Eddie’s cock, her hand on your throat still cutting off your air supply in the most perfectly delicious way. Eddie’s using every ounce of strength he has not to cum right now, his hand still thrusting in tandem with your hips. He leans forward and bites into your shoulder and the feeling sends you over the edge. Your whole body tenses, your legs clamping shut on his hand and you reach out to grab onto his forearm so you don’t fall over.

“Oh fuck - I’m gonna-“ Eddie can’t hold it anymore, everything feels so good, you’re both so fucking hot he’s felt like he was going to bust since you first walked up to him in the bar. But then suddenly Chloe is pulling off of him. His cock slips from her warm walls and his release is taken with it.

“Not yet, pretty boy. Don’t you wanna fuck my girls pretty little pussy too? She’s so desperate for it. Look at her.” Chloe grabs your jaw roughly and you whimper, you still have Eddie’s hand clamped between your legs and there’s drool dripping from the side of your mouth. Your chest rises and falls rapidly and your lips are kiss swollen, your mascara running lightly. Eddie wanted to fucking ruin you.

“Fuck, you know I do. You want that, angel face? Want me to fuck you?” He teases your entrance with his fingers again, dipping his fingertips just barely inside before pulling his hand away entirely.

“Please.” You whimper.

“Be a good girl for us and get on your hands and knees.” Chloe squishes your cheeks together, shaking your head from side to side before releasing you from her grip. Eddie grabs one of the pillows and drops in in front of you, the sweet gesture despite the fact that you know he’s about to fucking rail the shit out of you warms your insides in a different way. You place your knees on the pillow, resting your hands on the blanket underneath you. You arch your back so your ass is in the air and you hear two seperate groans behind you.

“I’m going to fuck the shit out of you.” Eddie growls, coming up behind you on his knees and roughly grabbing your hips in his big hands.

“Baby, come lay in front of me, I wanna taste you.” You whine, patting the space in front of you on the ground. Chloe chuckles at your neediness, coming around to lay on her back in front of you. She spreads her legs and it’s your turn to groan. She’s so wet, the moonlight shining through the dusty van windows makes it glisten. Eddie runs his cock through your folds as you lean down to place wet kisses on her inner thighs. You lay your lower half down flat so you can hook your arms around her legs. You look into her blue eyes as you spit on her pussy, sticking your tongue out to lick a stripe up her slit before swirling it around her clit.

“Fuck yes baby.” She groans, her fingers lace through your hair and tug your face closer to her so she can grind against your outstretched tongue.

Eddie pushes the head of his cock inside of you and pulls it out a few times, teasing you. You push your hips back against him and are met with a harsh smack on your ass. The metal of his rings stings in the best way and you moan into Chloe’s pussy, the vibrations sending her eyes to the back of her head.

“I was trying to take my time a little, but since you wanna be greedy about it…” He shoves his cock all the way inside you in one rough thrust. He grabs onto your ass, grinding his hips against your own while he is nestled deep inside you. The stretch felt so good, you’re so wet and needy it almost felt like your pussy was sucking him in. He pulls out slowly before slamming back into you roughly, and then he does it again, and again, and again. Each thrust nearly knocks the wind out of you, you whimper and moan against your girlfriend’s wet cunt, driving her insane.

“Oh fuuuuuck, your pussy is sucking me in baby girl. You feel so fucking good.” He picks up speed then, his hips smack against yours and your pussy is so wet you can hear his cock slipping in and out of you. It feels so fucking good you can hardly focus on eating Chloe out anymore. Your tongue is hanging from your mouth while she uses your hair as leverage to thrust against it.

“Yeah baby, keep your tongue out for me. Let us use you.” She pulls your hair harder, her hips eagerly rutting against your mouth.

One of Eddie’s hands snakes between your legs to find your clit, rubbing it in time with his thrusts. He’s fucking you so fast and deep, hitting your g-spot over and over again.

“I’m gonna fucking - shit - I’m gonna fucking cum ohmygod.” Chloe’s thrusts against your face become erratic and you know what she needs, even in your fucked our state. You wrap your lips around her clit and suck as she continues to grind against you, it only takes a few seconds for her back to be arching off the ground, her legs clamping shut around your head. She whines as she humps against your face, riding out her high. She pushes your head off of her when it becomes too much. “Okay, fuck sensitive.”

You release her clit from your lips, pushing up on your hands again while Eddie continues to fuck you like a man possessed. He gathers your hair in his hand, turning it into a makeshift ponytail and using it to pull your back flush against his chest.

“Oh fuck fuck fuck, oh god, Eddie! You’re so deep, feels so - so good.” Eddie can tell you’re getting close by the way you’re babbling and your pussy is clenching around him. “Choke me Eddie.”

He releases the grip on your hair to grab onto your throat instead, applying the perfect amount of pressure that has your vision just the right amount of hazy. He’s still fucking you so hard that you wouldn’t be surprised if the slapping of your hips was echoing through the entire parking lot.

“You guys look so fucking sexy, damn.” Chloe is propped up on her elbows now, watching as Eddie pushes you closer to the edge on his cock. She comes over to you, taking your face in her hands and kissing you passionately. She kisses down your jaw, stopping to run her tongue along Eddie’s fingers that are around your throat, she kisses all over your tits, licking and sucking your nipples. She continues her descent down your body, before leaning down to take your clit into her mouth. She swirls her tongue at the exact time that Eddie hits that perfect spot inside you and it has you seeing stars.

“I’m cumming! I’m fucking cumming!” Your body shakes in Eddie’s hold and your pussy is gripping him so tight he can’t take it anymore, cumming right along with you. He pumps into you while you both ride out your highs, filling you with his cum.

He pulls out of you slowly, holding onto your hips so you don’t fall forward.

“Jesus fucking Christ.” You let out a deep breath, letting yourself fall onto the blanket on your back.

“Yeah. Holy shit.” Eddie chuckles as he lowers himself down beside you.

“Jesus fucking Christ, holy shit, is right. That was amazing.” Chloe beams, laying down on her side facing you. She cups your jaw in her hand, leaning down to kiss you gently. “You did so good baby, you were such a good girl for us. Was it all you dreamed of?”

“Wait!” Eddie’s head whips towards you, his eyes wide. “You dreamed about this?”

“Oh pretty boy, you have no idea how long we’ve been fantasizing about you. Her longer than me. She’s been rubbing it out to the thought of you since the first time she saw you.” Chloe chuckles and you playfully smack her arm.

“Chloe! Shut up!!!” You feel your insides warm with embarrassment.

“Honestly? That’s so fucking hot, angel face, and pretty funny too. Considering I’ve been jerking off to the thought of you too.” He gives you this goofiest lopsided smile that calms your nerves. “I honestly felt like a little bit of a creep. Especially once you started bringing Chloe around, I felt like a perverted douche thinking about you guys together.”

“Psh!! If you’re a perv then so are we! We’ve literally talked about you while we were fucking, you’re good.” You giggle.

“Yeah, well I guess we are just a bunch of pervs then.” Eddie giggles along with you and Chloe smiles. She thinks you guys are cute, really cute. She kind of wants to keep Eddie around.

“Hey pretty boy, do you think we could see you again sometime?” She smirks at him, hopeful.

“Fuck. You know I’d say yes in an instant… but I’m actually leaving next week, this was our last show before our first tour. We got signed!” Eddie never thought he would be sad about that fact, until this moment.

“Oh Eddie!! That’s so awesome!! I’m so proud of you guys! I knew you could do it!” You give him that sweet smile that melts his heart, and he can’t help but lean in and kiss you. You return it happily.

“That’s fucking dope dude, you guys deserve that shit!” Chloe raises her hand to high five him, he returns it happily before grabbing her hand and kissing the back of it.

“Thanks, pretty girl.” He smirks at her, and she blushes. She tries to cover it up with a scoff and a roll of her eyes, but you saw it.

“Wanna get a celebratory breakfast with us at least? There’s a 24 hour diner around the corner.” You smile at him hopefully.

“I’d love to, my lady.” He smiles at you sweetly, and your heart melts.

The three of you spend hours at the diner, laughing and talking, getting to know each other. It’s almost bittersweet how well you all get along. It makes you wish you had spoken to him sooner. But who knows, maybe one day when Eddie Munson is rich and famous, you’ll see him again.

Tag list: @taintedcigs @nailbatanddungeon @melodymunson @sunnythespookyghost @keeksandgigz @tlclick73 @eddiesxangel @imyourdaninow @gravedigginbbydoll @take-everything-you-can

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x reader smut #Eddie Munson smut #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x fem!oc #Eddie Munson x fem!reader smut #Eddie Munson one shot #eddie munson fanfic #Dolly writes

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