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urhoneycombwitch · 11 months ago

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common tongue of you lovin' me

🍯 honey flavour: touchstarved loverboy smut

🐝 the bees: Eddie x reader

wc: 2.5k

content warnings: nervous Eddie, touchstarved R, smut, dry humping (is it actually dry if they’re both wet…?), cumming in pants, one (1) use of the word “daddy”, light use of the miscommunication trope

foreword: based on THIS anon everyone say THANKS anon. R and Eddie are in their early 20’s, R is on a gap year from college (so me), they’re in a new relationship with each other, I’m writing this while blasted on edibles idk what else to say 0_o

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By nature, Eddie Munson is not a shy person.

Even though his dark reputation in Hawkins hasn’t been completely erased, he still manages to make friends wherever he goes through sheer force of personality. It’s like a magic trick, one that you never get tired of- he’ll pause in the middle of grocery stores to make faces at a baby in a stroller, getting belly laughs out of a stranger’s kid in less than ten seconds while still holding your hand down the aisle. One second he’s right behind you in the record store, looking over your shoulder as you browsed, and the next he’ll be on one knee charming a elementary school-aged kid into getting the latest Dio album.

You’ve seen him flirt his way out of speeding tickets with Hopper, for christ’s sake.

Eddie isn’t shy by any stretch of the imagination, so after three months of nothing but chaste kisses and quiet hand-holding, you’re left to assume he actually wants to take things slow with you.

He’s been nothing but a gentleman, in these early days of dating- the most action you’ve gotten from him was unintentional. On your third date, a dollop of his ice cream landed on your lap when he used the cone to gesture, which led him to manically grabbing napkins out of his dashboard to wipe at your skirt while you laughed it off. The second he’d brushed against your bare thigh he snapped his hands back like he’d touched a live wire, hastily heaping on apologies, leaving you to allay his nerves while wiping at the stain yourself.

Which, whatever. It’s fine. It’s not like you’re complaining about him being respectful, per se, it’s just that it’s getting harder and harder (hah) to pretend like you don’t wanna fuck him. The feeling between your thighs only seems to increase in intensity when he gives you one of those precious little hand kisses at the end of a date, or a closed-mouth peck before he drives off into the night.

Unfortunately for you and your wet dreams, Eddie Munson has the most edible body you’ve ever seen. Biceps bulging through those form-fitting tees he likes to wear, rounded nose and strong jaw outlined by that cloud of soft black hair, those lithe hips…

Hips that you’re openly staring at from across the room as you sit quietly on Eddie’s couch. He’s reaching up to grab a mug from the cabinet, his Metallica tee pulling up out of his dark denim at the motion, flashing a stripe of his pale lower back.

You feel like a Victorian maid seeing ankle for the first time. You subtly press your thighs together under your short tartan skirt as Eddie moves around the kitchen, talking animatedly about the start of his upcoming campaign.

“I haven’t decided yet if I’m gonna go easy on the little shits or not,” he says, metal spoon clinking against ceramic as he mixes hot chocolate powder. “It’s Max’s first session as an official player, and I don’t wanna scare her off but I do have a reputation to uphold.”

“Yeah,” you agree, giving him a knowing smile as he crosses the room to pass you your mug- “You’re a DM most fearsome. Can’t let them off the hook too easily.”

Eddie blooms under your praise, wiggling his eyebrows with familiar cockiness as he settles on the cushion beside you. “Gotta keep Hawkins' finest in line. It’s a tough gig but I did swear an oath, after all.”

You smile around a sip of hot cocoa, then reach over to set your mug on the coffee table. Eddie has been sat in his usual manner (knees far enough apart to be taking up his whole seat, arm draped casually on the back of the couch) but the second your knee knocks against his, he adjusts himself stiffly, drawing his arm back with a nervous throat-clearing and a murmured “sorry”.

Normally you’d let it go, not wanting to push the issue past the point of his comfortability. But it’s been Three. Months. Of this. And you wanna test the waters, just a little.

“Sorry for what?” You ask, rotating to face him, your shoulders almost-but-not-quite touching.

He’d doing an uncanny impression of a deer caught in headlights, blinking at you with those doey brown eyes, stuttering his way through a weak explanation- “Uh… uh. Sorry for being- f-for touching you?”

There’s a lift at the end of his sentence, one that you mirror with a tilt of your own brow, a playful challenge. “You don’t have to apologize for touching me, Eddie. I’m your girlfriend.”

He chuckles, a nervous edge bleeding around the sound. The curls around his face dance with the head shake he gives. “No, of course, yeah, I know that.”

“Do you?” You scoot closer, a kick of assertiveness giving you the courage to press your leg against his.

“Uh huh.” He’s gazing openly now at the bare skin of your thigh, like he’s waiting to see if it'll burn a hole into his denim.

When you gently lift his hand and place it on the skin that he’s looking at, you hear him gulp, audibly.

So he does want to touch you. Interesting.

You know for a fact Eddie’s not a virgin. Back in high school, you’d both dated around your respective circles, gossip surrounding escapades in the Munson Van circulating back to you through mutual friends. When he’d asked you out a few months previous, you’d happily accepted, wanting to take full advantage of your interim gap year from college. For the first few weeks, you’d chalked his near-celibate behavior up to nerves.

But now, you’ve got him squirming with just a thigh touch. So maybe… he’s waiting for you to make the first move?

Fuck testing the waters- you’re gonna dive in head-first.

You swing your leg over his lap, kneeling on the outside of his hips. His hands automatically go to your waist, and he lets out a little “Oh” as you rest your arms around his shoulders.

“You gonna kiss your girlfriend?” you whisper, forehead crushing into his bangs as you wrap a hand around the back of his neck.

Eddie looks up at you like he’s seeing a full moon for the first time, eyes sparkling with want. “Yeah,” he rasps, angling his face up to kiss you.

It’s soft, at first, like it always has been. His plush lips softly move against yours, breaking for air once, twice; when he kisses you with that same softness for a third time you press your tongue to the seam between his lips.

He lets you in with a little noise, low in the back of his throat as you lick into his mouth. His hands twitch on your hips as your tongues twine, slight movements in his own hips creating a ripple effect.

When the hard seam of his jeans bumps against the warmth of your cunt, you both gasp, your hand at the back of his neck tightening.

“We should probably, um-” he’s panting against your mouth, grip flexing between hard and soft- “I mean, if you wanna stop…”

“I don’t wanna stop. Do you wanna stop?” you ask, equally out of breath.

“Fuck no,” he rasps again, in that smoke-salt voice, and this time when he kisses you it’s with one hand at the back of your head and the other pulling your hips to meet his.

The noises from the wet slide of your mouths are turning you on more than you care to admit, and you’re sure he can feel the damp patch that’s soaking through your panties as the crotch of his jeans make contact again. Which normally would make you feel really self-conscious, if it weren’t for the fact that Eddie’s hard as a rock underneath you, the bulge in his pants thickening with each roll of your hips.

You drop your kisses down, exploring where you haven’t been able to before: against his cheek, his jaw, stopping just behind his ear. Unable to help yourself, you graze your teeth against the velvet skin there, and he jolts beneath you with a small yelp.

“Sorry,” you whisper, still a touch mirthful but soothing your tongue over the mark.

Eddie brushes his thumb across the back of your neck as you continue your path down the column of his throat. “Now who’s sayin’ sorry for no reason. Baby, I’m begging you to do that again.”

So you do, this time at the junction where his neck and shoulder meet, grinning against his skin when he groans and bucks his hips up.

Around your hickey-making, he’s choking out words that you just manage to string together. “I wanna… make you feel- christ, sweetheart- good too, wanna make it good for you-”

When you sit up to see his face, he looks absolutely wrecked- rosy flush in his cheeks, lips swollen and kiss-bitten, pupils blown so big his eyes are nearly black with lust.

“You are making me feel good,” you assure him, pulling the hand he’s got on your neck down to where the end of your skirt sits, pausing before your next move. “You want me to prove it?”

He nods, and you guide him into the warmth of your thighs, letting his fingers graze the stickiness that’s been steadily soaking through the fabric.

Eddie inhales sharply, moans out, “Fuck, honey”, and when his thumb finds your clit you sink down into his touch, stomach tightening with the shock of arousal coursing through you.

He’s watching your face intently as he slowly circles your clit, gauging your reactions, pressing in a bit harder and faster when the pace change makes you cry out.

Feeling doubly exposed with his eye contact and hand against your core, you try making a joke to diffuse some of the tension as the pad of his finger moves against you in steady rhythm. “Still thinkin’ about stopping?”

“A train could crash through that wall and it wouldn’t stop me for a second,” Eddie says, resolute and getting a little braver, kissing his own path across your throat, nibbling at a spot that makes your clit pulse beneath his fingertip and your cunt clench around nothing.

Goddamn, he’s a quick learner. In less than two minutes he’s got you so close to the edge, squirming around his touch, that you have to grab his wrist and still his fingers between your thighs.

“What’s wrong?” he asks. You can feel his breath punching up down up, your breasts pushed up against his chest from the way your body was trying to coil in on itself.

“Nothing,” you assure him, and now it’s your turn to falter around your words. “I just- maybe can I… I wanna get o-off at the same time. If you want. And I’m really, really close.”

Eddie’s head falls back against the couch with a thunk, eyes scrunching shut as if in concentration, a strung-out whine leaving his throat. “Hang on. Give me a second.”

He’s still got his hand on your clothed pussy, and you can’t help but giggle once he blinks back to the present, dazed- “Christ. You can’t say shit like that, baby, I almost came in my jeans.”

You give him a condescending little pout, accented with another twist of your hips. “Well maybe that’s what I want.”

“Give you anything,” Eddie replies, unabashedly babbling now as you adjust yourself in his lap. “Anything you want, sweetheart. It’s yours. All yours.”

He helps you maneuver into a new angle: now, your drenched core can rub freely against his thigh, while your knee in the socket of his hip means he can rut his cock along the flat of your leg.

When you move experimentally in shallow circles on his thigh, the newly-gained friction lights up your throbbing clit. Soon, all pretenses melt away as you both find your rhythm again, little grunts and pants filling the air.

“Feel good, angel? That’s it,” Eddie encourages, slipping his hand under your skirt to grope at the meat of your ass, helping your movements along as he chases his own pleasure with a rocking grind against your leg. “Take what you need. Lemme get you there. Please, please…”

His whines spur you on, one of your hands shooting out to clutch at the back of the couch beside his head while the other anchors itself on his opposing bicep. “Fuck, Eddie, keep talking like that, ‘m so close…”

“Talk to you all day,” he heaves out, “you make me so fucking hard, princess. You feel how hard I am for you? God, you’re so wet, that’s so fucking hot…”

You should have expected that bravado and charm you’ve seen these last few years to naturally be carried over into his sex life, but god, not in your wettest of dreams could you have imagined the mouth on him.

The combination of his dirty talk and thigh between your legs is bringing you right up to that edge again, toes curling in anticipation, cunt starting to flutter erratically with every thrust.

“Fuck, baby, I’m gonna come…” your head rolls back on its hinge, eyes flickering shut as Eddie fumbles to catch at your clit again, movements becoming sloppy.

“C’mon, pretty baby, let go.” He’s sucking another mark into your neck between his praises, teeth catching- “Let me see you come, honey, be a good girl for daddy…”

“Jesus FUCKING christ” is all you manage to grit out before you’re tipping over the edge into orgasm, all your muscles bearing down into the bright point of pleasure, high sob winding its way from your throat.

Eddie keeps kneading at your spasming clit as you ride it out on his thigh, even as he lets out a series of short, keening whimpers, even as his cock jerks against your leg into his own release.

You sag into his waiting arms, tittering lightly against his neck as you both work on catching your collective breaths.

“Holy shit, and I was really starting to think you actually didn’t want to fuck me.” You laugh in relief.

His hand pauses mid-stroke up the slope of your back, sounding genuinely aghast when he asks “Why the fuck would you think that?”

You straighten in his arms with an incredulous stare. “Uh, maybe because you acted like a monk that I was corrupting every time I even breathed near you?”

Eddie covers his eyes with his hands, heels to sockets, groaning- “Fuck, honey, I was tryn’a be respectful. You’re telling me we could’ve been doing this sooner?”

You reach to soothe your palms over the length of his forearms, equally fond and serious when you say “I’m telling you I absolutely would have slept with you on the first date.”

He makes a strangled, pained noise before you continue- “You described to me in detail the entire mating cycle of a bat, and then walked directly into a trash can by accident. How did you expect me to wait on jumping your bones?”

He lets you take his hands, enveloping them in your own and bringing them to your chest, pressing your lips affectionately to each ring.

He whispers, “Can I ask you something?”

When you look up at him again, he says, with sincerity, “Can I see your tits next time?”

You hide your laughter into the crook of his neck.

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guys i cannot stress how high I am is this even any good plz perceive me

#eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie x reader #eddie munson x you #e.m. thots from lu #drabble #smut #mdni

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afeelgoodblog · 2 months ago

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The Best News of Last Month - August 2024

1.Negative Power Prices Hit Europe as Renewable Energy Floods the Grid

European power markets are experiencing a notable shift as renewable energy sources, particularly wind and solar, become a larger part of the energy mix. On Wednesday, power prices in several European markets, including Germany, dipped below zero due to a surge in green electricity production.

2. Taiwan introduces ban on performances by captive wild animals

Live performances by wild animals held in captivity, including performances by dolphins, tigers, and other non-domesticated mammals, will no longer be permitted in Taiwan under new Ministry of Agriculture (MOA) regulations.

3. FTC bans fake online reviews, inflated social media influence; rule takes effect in October

The FTC voted unanimously to ban marketers from using fake reviews, such as those generated with AI technology, and other misleading advertising practices.

The ban also forbids marketers from exaggerating their own influence by, for example, paying for bots to inflate their follower count.

4. Chinese drones will fly trash out of Everest slopes

Come autumn, Nepal will deploy heavy lifter drones to transport garbage from the 6,812-metre tall Ama Dablam, south of Everest. This will be the first commercial work an unmanned aerial vehicle does in Nepal’s high-altitude zone.

The heavy lifter from China’s biggest drone maker, Da Jiang Innovations (DJI), will take on tasks traditionally handled by Sherpas. Officials believe it will help reduce casualties on Everest.

5. Swiss scientists have found a way to use the whole cocoa fruit to make chocolate and not just taking beans and discarding the rest.

Kim Mishra (L) and Anian Schreiber (R) cooperated on the new chocolate making process

Food scientists in Switzerland have come up with a way to make chocolate using the entire cocoa fruit rather than just the beans - and without using sugar.

The chocolate, developed at Zurich’s prestigious Federal Institute of Technology by scientist Kim Mishra and his team includes the cocoa fruit pulp, the juice, and the husk, or endocarp.

6. Six-year-old boy found in Vietnam forest after five days

A six-year-old boy who was missing for five days has been found deep in a forest in Vietnam. Dang Tien Lam, who lives in the northwestern Yen Bai province, was playing in a stream with his nine siblings on 17 August when he wandered into the hills and got lost, local reports said.

He was found on Wednesday by local farmers who heard a child's cry while they were clearing a cinnamon field close to the forest.

7. Lego plans to make half the plastic in bricks from renewable materials by 2026

Lego plans to make half the plastic in its bricks from renewable or recycled material rather than fossil fuels by 2026, in its latest effort to ensure its toys are more environmentally friendly.

The Danish company last year ditched efforts to make bricks entirely from recycled bottles because of cost and production issues. At the moment, 22% of the material in its colourful bricks is not made from fossil fuels.

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That's it for this month :)

This newsletter will always be free. If you liked this post you can support me with a small kofi donation here:

Buy me a coffee ❤️

Also don’t forget to share this post with your friends.

#best news of last week

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smutoperator · 4 days ago

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Bad Bunny

Jung Eunbi (Eunha) x Male Reader

Kinkvember Chapter 2

Main kinks: public sex, free use, sex with a stranger, spanking

Word count: 5639.

Eunha is a bad bunny. She may look cute from the outside, but once she gets inside the walls of any bedroom, she transforms herself into the neediest slut ever known. However, in this month of November, you had decided you would abstain from having any sex with her and let her prepare for her group's comeback.

But Eunha's horniness knows no boundaries, and her comeback preparation couldn't go ahead without sex. And if you weren't going to give it to her, no problem; she would find it somewhere else.

Eunha invites a guy to your house for a hot night of sex. He fucks her in every possible way, giving her the relief she needs while you preach your abstinence. However, one little mistake ended up leading to her demise.

On the next day, you do your duty as a good boyfriend and collect the garbage to take it away. However, when you start separating it, you find a few condoms mixed in it. You noticed a few holes poked in them and quickly connected the dots. "Damn, that bunny is so horny she couldn't go over a day without sex," you say.

You take the garbage out but grab one of the condoms, waiting to confront Eunha when she arrives from the latest practice. It doesn't take long for her to come, and as soon as she does, you ask her.

"What is this, Eunha?" you say, pointing to the condom. "I don't know," she answers, clearly lying as you can see her pale skin blushing. "Eunha, did you have sex with another guy while preparing for your group's comeback? You ask her. "Sorry, baby, I couldn't resist; I'm just a horny bunny," she answers. "Please forgive me; I love you," she continues.

Eunha's needy face makes your heart melt. You truly want to forgive her. But first, you need to set some conditions. "I forgive you, baby, but you cannot disobey me anymore," you tell her. "Okay, baby, I promise I will be very obedient," Eunha answers. "Well, I will start enforcing it right now; you better obey every command I give you and let me do whatever I want to you," you answer her. "Yes, baby, do it as you please; I deserve to get punished; I'm a bad bunny," she says.

"Let's take a walk then," you tell Eunha. "Sure, baby," she says. But as soon as you two get out of your house, you cuff her hands. "Baby, what are you doing?" she asks. "Shhhh, you told me you would let me do whatever I wanted," you say to her. "Alright, do it," she says.

You walk Eunha across the street in the direction of the construction site on the other side of it. You walk her through it, making sure she doesn't trip over anything with those knee-high boots she's wearing. You get her towards one of the fences at the construction site, pushing her against it. "Punish me, baby," she says. And indeed you will.

You grab scissors and cut Eunha's top right at her boob area. "We can't do that, baby," she says. "Today we can, follow my lead, you cheating bunny," you say to her, groping her perfect pair of tits and giving them a few spankings in between. "Bad bunny," you say as you spank them.

You pin Eunha against the fence and bend her body over, showing off the part that made you fall in love with her: the perfect round cheeks of her butt. You do one of your favorite things to it: spank it a few times before you pick up the scissors to cut her panties off. "You won't need those today," you say to Eunha.

You stick your hands on Eunha's pink fuckholes and start massaging them. "We can't do that in public, baby; it's too risky," she says. "Of course we can, and if you stay quiet, nobody will see," you say to her as you keep fingering her pussy and anus in broad daylight.

You once again reach into your toolcase and push out a nipple clamp, and you use the chain coming out of it to tie Eunha to the fence. "Today you're Daddy's free use girl," you say to her. "Yes, daddy, please use me," she says.

"Arch that pretty butt for me, little bunny," you tell Eunha, who obliges. As soon as you do, you cut the remnants of her panties off, leaving her big ass out in the open for you to spank it unchallenged. A construction worker arrives from behind, leading you to instinciteively pull Eunha's skirt back to cover her ass.

"You can't stay here," the worker says to you, who obliges and takes Eunha along with you, but not before flashing her nipples to them. You walk Eunha across the street and then reach a very heavy traffic avenue, crossing it as the drivers stop and get greeted with more nipple-flahing from Eunha. On the other side of the avenue, some curious guys look at your girlfriend, wondering what kind of stuff you're doing to her, as they see her tied up with her torso fully exposed, some even perverted enough to try to touch her.

Eunha is now completely naked from her waist up, but you just don't care and take her across the crowd walking down the streets. In fact, you lift her skirt up too, offering them a glimpse of your girlfriend almost totally naked, with many guys turning their necks around to look at her big ass, even better when you spank it in front of those horny dudes and even get some drivers to honk at Eunha flashing them, while you keep greeting the people walking across the street with your girlfriend's hot body.

You get even bolder, bending Eunha's body and flashing her ass to the people on the street and the guys on the avenue. They really enjoy it. Indeed, that fat pale piece of ass is a marvel to look at: so plump, round, and already red from the spankings you gave her.

Eunha grinds herself on a street sign and puts up a little show for the drivers stopping at the red light. "I wish Yuju was there; she could easily do some pole dancing at that sign," you say to your girlfriend, who is basically naked except for the bar of her skirt wrapped around her waist. The transients can see everything from her: her pink pussy, her perky tits, and especially her fat ass.

You take Eunha to the parking lot of a supermarket nearby and decide it's time to start putting some heat up in her pussy, as you finger it while crossing the lot. "Don't squirt; you can only cum when Daddy tells you," you say to her. Eunha obliges, managing to keep herself uptight and not cum.

Eunha gets put on her knees as you unzip your pants and finally show her your cock. "You missed it, right?" you ask her. "A lot, daddy," she answers and then quickly dives to bob her head on it like a good horny bunny. You grab her head from behind and push her even deeper, slowly fucking her doll-esque face. "Oh yeah, you're such a good Barbie doll," you tell her as she takes your cock in her mouth with ease in that parking lot.

You push your pants back up and walk Eunha across the parking lot a little bit. "What do you say?" you ask her. "Thank you, Daddy," Eunha answers. "Good girl, I think you deserve some more of Daddy's cock in your mouth," you reply.

You pin Eunha towards a garage door and violently fuck her face. You don't care about her head slamming hard against it; in face, the more, the better. Your thrusts are filled with rage, ready to teach that cheating bunny a lesson as your cock bulges under her throat and her head keeps slamming the wall. You then walk her around a bit and switch to doing that against the door of one of the parked cars. God, it's so good using that slutty bunny's pretty face like a toy.

You toy with Eunha, slapping your cock against her naughty tongue. That only makes her even hornier, as she seizes the opportunity to bob her head against your cock. "Calm down, little bunny," you say to her, quickly regaining control and pushing her to gag on your cock. "You're such a bad bunny," you say to Eunha, slapping her face.

"Tell me you want more," you ask Eunha. "I want more, Daddy," she answers. "Again," you reply, spitting in her face. "Please, I want more, Daddy. Give me that big cock; I want it inside me," she says with more detail this time. You push your cock a bit more on Eunha's mouth, and she answers by quickly bobbing her head on it, getting it perfectly wet for her fuckholes. She doesn't care about the cars passing through the lot and watching; all she wants is to be a good girl full of cock.

"Where do you want it first, pussy or ass?" you ask Eunha. "Pussy, daddy," she says, and you follow. You truly missed that tight pink hole of hers, groaning as soon as you get in. "And how do you say it?" you ask her. "Please, daddy, fuck my pussy," Eunha answers.

You pump Eunha's pussy at a steady pace, her making tons of effort not to moan and get noticed by someone else. Instead, you're the one groaning as her tight hole squeezes your fat cock quite hard. "Say thank you, Daddy," you tell her, giving her ass another spank. "Thank you, Daddy, for having such a big cock for this little bunny," she answers.

"Such a good whore, getting daddy's cock for everyone in the street to watch; I hope they film us and sell the tape," you say to Eunha. "Oh, oh, oh, ohhhh," Eunha softly moans as you attack her little pussy. You keep groaning as Eunha's walls tighten around your shaft, more so when you spank her ass.

"Come here, clean it," you say after a while. "You made my cock very dirty with that slutty pussy," you continue. Eunha promptly follows your orders, ducking down to taste her juices. "Good girl," you say as she licks the side of your shaft and then takes it deep in her throat before you grab her head and speed up the process by fucking her face.

You lift Eunha's right legs up and spread them until her boots hit the door of the car on the opposite side. With her in prime position, you get back to fuck her pussy from behind while reaching to grab her hair. You fuck her harder this time, Eunha's legs barely able to stay at the car's door while her pussy feels the wrath of your cock. "Are you struggling, whore? Maybe you shouldn't have cheated on me, stupid bunny," you say to her, spitting on her face.

You completely dominate Eunha, now reaching one hand to finger her pussy as you pound it. You fuck her full of rage, punishing her nonstop for being such a bad bunny. You now even stretch her mouth with both hands, humilating her at any possible opportunity.

"Get down, bitch, you are getting too much fun from my cock; now clean it again," you say to Eunha, stopping fucking her pussy and going straight to more facefucking. "Filthy little whore," you say, spitting on her face before doing some cock slapping and then face slapping. "Time to get on your feet; this round is over; I'm taking you somewhere else," you tell her.

You walk Eunha across the neighborhood, never missing a chance to spank her pale butt and make it even redder. You two finally reach your destination, a shabby alleway in front of some long abandoned buildings. You keep spanking her pussy and tits at the alleway. "You like it?" you ask her. "Yes, daddy, spank me; I'm a bad bunny," Eunha says.

You follow what she asks, hitting Eunha's whole pale body with a whip. Her thicc thigs, her beautiful face, her perky tits, her pink pussy, nothing escapes your wrath. "Turn around," you say, delivering some pain to her ass next. "Look at you; you're all dirty," you tell her.

"Eunha, I'm still being very soft to you; you know I can spank you much harder than that, right?" you ask her. "Of course, daddy, spank me harder, I beg," she says. "Alright, I won't deny it," you tell her, hitting her ass at full speed now. Eunha seems to take it fairly easy. Her pale skin has made her the target of much spanking over the course of her career, to the point that she's addicted to it. "Daddy, I think you're going to make me cum just by spanking me," she says.

"Not yet; you aren't clear to cum yet. And you know what? This filthy alleway is the perfect place to clean your dirty hole," you say to her. "But first, you have to beg it for me," you tell Eunha.

"Please, daddy, fuck my ass," Eunha answers. You like that she already knows what hole you were talking about. "Say it again," you tell Eunha, but you actually block her from answering by shoving your cock in her mouth once again. "Please, daddy, fuck my tight, dirty, slutty ass," she says as soon as your cock is out of her mouth.

You turn Eunha around at the alleway and put your cock in her ass, her tight hole making you struggle to put in there. Eunha clings her head against the wall, trying to cope with your thrusts. "Ohhhh, ohhhhh, ahhhhh, ahhhhh, yesss," Eunha moans as you pick up the speed. You also groan, trying to dig deeper in her anus and pushing really hard. "I'm so thankful for having a daddy that fucks me so good in the ass," Eunha says in between meany moans.

"Holy sh*t, you're such a fucking tight bitch even though you get fucked in the ass every day," you say to Eunha. "Yes, daddy, I always make sure to make things very difficult for your big fat cock or for other cocks when I'm being a bad bunny and cheating on you," Eunha answers, confessing last night wasn't the first time she did it.

"Let me sit; I want to see you bouncing on that cock," you say to Eunha, never pulling out of her at any second. You lie on the dirty sidewalk floor as she impales her dirty butthole on your cock and rides it like a champ, giving you a privileged view of her fat ass. "Come on, stupid bitch, just bounce," you tell her. Eunha follows and picks up the pace, getting your cock all the way inside her tight asshole.

"Good girl," you say to Eunha as the sounds of her cheeks clapping on your pants get louder. "Yeah," she moans, grinning her teeth as your big cock seems to be too much for her tiny butthole.

"Get up," you tell Eunha, asking her to pull out of your cock. "Now sit down and suck it clean; I want you to get your dirty anus off my cock," you say to her, shoving it in her face once more and pushing her head against your manhood. "Fuck yeah, you like being fucked in the ass like this?" you ask her. "Yes, daddy," Eunha answers.

"There you go," you say as you force your cock balls deep in Eunha's mouth until she gags. She goes insane and starts licking your balls. "You're such a nasty girl, aren't you?" you ask her, grabbing your cock and slapping in on her face while spitting on her.

You fuck Eunha's pussy hard and fast for a little bit, punishing the slutty bunny with a hard pounding as a guy appears on the street. "Turn around, against the wall," you order to Eunha, letting the guy grope her tits while you spank her. Eunha bends over and shows her ass to the dude as you hit her big butt.

"Dirty slut, your punishment is far from over," you say to her, lifting the bar of her skirt. You take Eunha to a playground, tying her up to one of the equipments and putting a blindfold in her eyes. Eunha's body is completely suspended as you put your cock back in her ass. "I'm ready to use that asshole a little more," you say to her, toying as your cock goes in and out of her anus.

"Fuck, ahhhh," Eunha moans as you thurst your cock deep in her ass and finger her horny cunt, her legs fully spread and suspended in the air as you fuck her ass in a missionary position. "Please, daddy, keep fucking my ass," a blindfolded Eunha says as you increase the pace, finger-fucking her pussy as well at the same pace you attack her asshole. You spank her pale butt like always, leading to more moans from the porcelain princess.

"Dadddy, can you fuck my pussy too?" Eunha asks. You accept it and switch holes, taking her cunt even harder as her body jiggles all over the playground equipment with the speed of your thrusts. Some kids appear at the playground, but you just don't care; to you, they will just be having a free class of sex education. Besides them, a stranger appears and gets side by side with you, who lets him finger Eunha's pussycat and eventually gets inside it.

You step aside as the stranger fucks Eunha's pussy. "Have fun," you tell him. The guy seizes the opportunity, pounding Eunha hard as you spit in her blindfolded face. "Stupid slut, can't resist any cock that comes in your way, can't you?" you say to Eunha, jerking your cock off and slapping on her face while the stranger fucks her hard and spanks her butt too.

"You like his cock, don't you?" you ask Eunha. "Yes, daddy, I can't help myself; I'm a bad bunny that loves cock," she answers. "Do you want him to cum in your pussy?" you ask her. "Yes, Daddy, would you let him?" she asks.

But the authrorization doesn't even need to come, as you inserting a vibrator on Eunha's clit makes her walls clench harder, making the stranger unable to resist as he fills her pussy full of his cum. You uncover Eunha's eyes, letting her enoy her cunt getting stuffed to the brim of a stranger's semen, much to her glee.

You and the stranger take Eunha under a shabbed railway bridge in the worst part of the neighborhood as you three go down an access stairway full of graffiti defacements and dirty walls. "Let's have some fun," you say, stripping Eunha fully naked and offering her to the strange. "Make him happy, you dirty slut," you continue, spanking her ass with the whip once more.

Eunha unbuttons the stranger's shorts, jerking his cock off until it gets hard again. She can feel the remnants of his sperm still covering his shaft. You get Eunha on her knees and push her to suck his cock; all that while you spank her back, make things worse for the horny bunny. Eunha savors his shaft under your watch as the stranger gropes her tits.

After some jerking off, you take your cock back in Eunha's pussy, making her get spit-roasted alongside the stranger. You fuck her furiously, spanking her tits and making her pay for being such a cockslut. Eunha gets completely bent over as she pleases both cocks.

"Where do you want our cum, you fucking slut?" you ask her. "In my ass," Eunha answers, prompting you to pull out and deliver her a nice fat load in her pretty slutty face as the stranger can't also resist the warmth of her mouth and soon glazes it with his cum. "What a cum bunny you are, dirty bitch," you say to her, spitting on her cum-filled face once again. "Thank him, bitch," you say to her. "Thank you," Eunha politely says to the stranger as he leaves.

The humiliation isn't over for Eunha though, far from it. You make her walk her across the neighborhood with both of your cum in her face, taking Eunha to the busiest square at the place. Where you take the jacket you had put on her and strip her completely naked once again, taking her back home with no clothes on.

Or so she thought.

To punish Eunha, you decide to go back where it all began, tying her to the garbage can as the pickup truck comes to take the used condoms she wore yesterday, showing what you truly think about her: a filthy, dirty, worthless horny whore that is completely disposable after sex.

A few hours later

It's freezing cold outside, and Eunha remains tied to the trash can. You finally have mercy on the little bunny and bring her back inside your house. Her skin is so pale now she looks like Snow White.

Eunha gets tied up and her body suspended in the air as you start to ask her some questions, ready for a night of dominance. "You look like such an innocent bunny; why are you here?" you start. "I want Daddy to give me as much pain as possible," she answers. "You better be very obedient, because if you don't behave, I'll deliver double the pain," you say to her.

"Yes, daddy, I'm so addicted to the way you spank my porcelain skin," Eunha says. You tease her, touching her body from top to bottom, before pinning her against the wall hard. "Look me in the eye and say it," you tell Eunha. "I want to be spanked, Daddy," Eunha answers. "Why, bunny?" you ask her. "Because I deserve it for being a bad cheating bunny," you say.

You start touching Eunha's pussy, edging her, and then stopping it. "You see, baby, I can give you the pleasure, but I can also take it away," you tell her. "Whatever you want, Daddy," Eunha says. "Then let me do it, Bunny," you say, making her moan hard. "AHHHH, AHHHHH, AHHHHH," Eunha moans. "Are you going to cum?" you ask her. "Yes, daddy, I'm going to cum," she says.

"No, you're not," you tell Eunha, pulling your hands out of her pussy and denying her an orgasm. You bring out the vibrator and start stimulating her again, showing her your intentions. "I'm going to fuck your throat, your pussy and your ass; use you like a little toy; is that what you want?" you ask. "Yes, daddy," she answers.

"You wanna cum?" you ask her again. "DADDY, I'M GONNA CUM," she answers, begging for it as you put the vibrator in her pussy and spank her tits. "OHHHHH," she screams. "Is that what you want, little bunny? Then say it to me," you ask again. "I'M GONNA CUM, I'M GONNA CUM, I'M GONNA CUM, PLEASE DADDY LET ME CUM," she screams. "PLEASE DADDY, PLEASE," she keeps screaming, running out of breath.

You push Eunha's body down until her face gets lined up against your shaft, feeding her mouth with your cock. She bobs her head on it, but not for long as you take the initiative and fuck her throat until she gags, reaching it balls deep in her mouth. "Yes, daddy, feed me that big cock," Eunha begs and gets it as her face gets pounded like it's a second pussy and she chokes all over it.

"Open your fucking mouth, bunny," you say, spitting on Eunha's face. "Keep it open; I'll take it all the way down," you say as saliva comes out of Eunha's chin. You use it to lube your hands and massage her needy cunt until Eunha squirts all over the floor.

"Please, daddy, use me harder," Eunha says as you suspend her body back up, lining your cock to her pussy and inserting it inside her. "FUCK," Eunha gasps, already very sensitive from your edging session. "H YEAH, DADDY, USE MY PUSSY," Eunha says. "Beg harder," you tell her, pulling out after a couple thrusts. "PLEASE, DADDY, MAY I HAVE YOUR BIG FAT COCK IN MY SLUTTY BUNNY PUSSY?" Eunha screams.

"Do you think you're ready?" you say, spanking her pussy. "Yes, daddy, I'm more than ready," Eunha answers. You spank her butt and then go back in her pussy, grabbing her by the ass and fucking her hard, making her body shake as you clap hard against her cheeks. "FUCK, FUCK, FUCK, FUCK!" Eunha screams nonstop. "AHHHHHHH," she says as she squirts on your naked body.

"Fucking taste it, you bunny slut," you tell Eunha, feeding her juices straight into her mouth. "You want more?" you ask her. "Yes, daddy, please, give me more," Eunha answers as you do just that, fucking her pussy hard. "OHHHHH YESSSS, MAKE ME CUM, DADDY," she moans.

"No," you stop. "You will only cum when I say so," you say, smacking her pussy and enjoying the squirting coming out of it. "AHHHHHH," Eunha screams as she cums. "Thank you, Daddy," she says, looking like an utterly submissive bunny.

You give more hard thrusts into Eunha's sensitive cunt, enjoying the clapping sounds that come out of your bodies colliding against each other. You choke her and then turn her around, starting spanking her fat ass cheeks. "AHHHHH, DADDDY," she screams. "Thank you, Daddy," she then says as they turn red.

"I didn't tell you to speak," you say to Eunha, kissing the bunny and punishing her by jerking your cock off against her clit, making her squirt before pounding her like a crazy. "OH GOD, YES, YES, YES, DADDDY," Eunha screamed. "Thank you, Daddy," she says again as you pull out and stare at her.

You untie Eunha, dropping her at the stairs of your house and opening her legs, tying her up to the handrail before you insert your cock in her ass. "Yes, daddy, please, fuck my ass," she begs. "Yes, daddy, stretch my ass," Eunha begs as you go deeper in it and spank her tits. "You're such a bad bunny," you say.

You show no mercy to Eunha's tight butthole, making things harder for the little bunny as you play with her pussy. "OH FUCK DADDY!" Eunha screams. She whispers inaudible words to you as you keep spanking her whole body. "AHHHHH," Eunha screams as you hit her nipples hard. You tease her cunt with more rubbing. "Ohhh, daddy, please, make me squirt," Eunha begs as you resume the anal pounding, leading her to moan with her mouth wide open.

"Fuck, yes, daddy, yes, daddy," Eunha moans as you now choke her and destroy her butthole. "AHHHHHH," Eunha screams as your cock hits the depths of her anus. You look at your dirty bunny girlfriend calling you Daddy, her pale skin now completely red. "Take every inch of your cock inside me, AHHHHHHH," Eunha moans.

"Spank my tits, daddy, choke me," Eunha begs as you fuck her harder, getting more and more animalesque. "OHHHHHH," she screams as the spanking never stops. Her tits, her cheeks, her face—everything is a target.

"I'm gonna cum, I'm gonna cum, please, daddy, let me cum again," Eunha says, but you ignore her, saying focused on fucking her ass. Her thicc thighs and big butt are now almost with her flesh exposed after so much spanking.

"Oh yes," you say as Eunha starts letting out a geyser of squirt out of her pussy. "AHHHHHH," the little bunny screams as you stare at her wasted face, never pulling out of her ass and pushing it deep, making her squirt again almost as if the tip of your cock had pressed some kind of button buried in her anus.

Eunha squirts multiple times with the anal session you give her. "OH GOD, FUCK ME, DADDY," she screams and begs. "Daddy, it feels so good," she says as you can't stop destroying her butthole and enjoy her squirt all over the stairs steps. "Fuck daddy, you use my ass so good; I want more; I'm a needy bunny for daddy's cock," Eunha says.

"Then turn around," you tell her. Eunha obliges as you tie her knees to the stairs, and your cock quickly finds her already sore butthole for more fun. "Oh yeah, you're so deep, daddy," Eunha moans, more so when you turn her cheeky butt into your prime target of spankings. Eunha's cheeks get massacred, getting hit every time you hit deep in her ass. You enjoy seeing the exposed red flesh from so many hits you deliver on them, only pushing you to go harder. Despite all that pounding, her asshole is still as tight as ever and queefs with your cock inside it.

Spank, spank, spank. That's all you do now. "Daddy, you're gonna make me cum with so much spanking," Eunha says as she gets used like a little toy. A fuckbunny. "Pull my hair, Daddy," she pleads, and you follow. "I'm your dirty little slut daddy; yes, daddy, treat me like a free use fuckhole," she begs, her body shaking with the speed of your poundings.

"Daddy, you like making bunny cum?" Eunha asks you. "Yes, I love using that bunny until she cums," you tell her, staying focused on pounding her ass. Eunha is completely wasted, but she doesn't want you to stop, jiggling her butt as you fuck it. "I'M CUMMING FOR YOU, DADDY," Eunha announces. You slow down, toying with her gaped anus going in and out of it, giving her sensitive hole a little stabbing.

But your kindness is short-lived. You soon mount on top of Eunha and deliver her the most aggressive anal pounding of the night. "OH FUCK, YOU'RE HITTING ME SO DEEP, DADDY," she screams. Eunha's ass gets used hard as you are like a raging bull fucking a cow—I mean, a bunny. Your thrusts are full of energy and power, making Eunha roll her eyes as she struggles to cope with the heat.

"I'll do anything for you, Daddy," Eunha says. "Well, then let me use that big, fat, cheeky, red ass," you say, tossing all adjectives about her butt while pounding it hard. "I'm a bad bunny," Eunha says. "Yes, you are," you tell her, choking your slutty girlfriend.

"AHHHHHH," Eunha moans as she cums again. You spank her butt multiple times after pulling out of her ass. "Yes, daddy, harder," she begs. "You want more?" you ask her. "Yes," she answers. "Beg," you reply. "Yes, daddy, please, give me more; spank me like a bad bunny, harder," she says.

After beating Eunha's cheeks like a drum, you reach to finger her throbbing pussy, making her moan and then hitting her every time she screams. "Stay quiet, bitch, I'm going to punish you," you answer, getting back in Eunha's ass and fucking her like crazy, showing no mercy for her and not getting her feeling getting in the way of your anal destruction. "Oh yeah, daddy, you fuck that tight little asshole so well," she says.

The stairs creak as Eunha screams and groans. You finally stop as Eunha begs you to cum again, whispering like a needy bunny. "I need you; I need you; please, Daddy," she says, very out of breath.

"Then come here," you tell Eunha, tying her arms to the ceilling by a chain. "That's right, bunny, sit right down this cock," you command to her as Eunha drops down it with her ass. "OHHHHHHH," she gasps as your length impales her. "Ohhhhh, daddy, ahhhh," Eunha moans as she starts bouncing on it, her legs spread at 180 degrees. "Oh fuck, it feels so good in my ass," she moans.

"That's it, little bunny; now I'm taking control," you say, pounding her from down low. "AHHHHHHH," Eunha squeals as your cock drills her asshole one final time. You manhandle her queefing anus, groaning like a monster and massaging her cunt to make her squirt. "OHHHHHH FUCKKKK!" Eunha screams. She gets pounded to oblivion, losing sight of her surroundings.

"YES DADDY, YES, DADDY, YES DADDY, FUCK ME, FUCK ME, FUCK ME, I'M GONNA CUM," Eunha says, losing her breath and grinding on your cock. "Please, make me cum," Eunha moans as she's basically levitating with your thursts. "Take it all," you say, your balls smashing against her clit. "Yes, daddy, I will take all that cock in my a... fuck," Eunha moans. You and her reach orgasm at the same time as she squirts on your body and you explode inside her asshole.

Eunha grinds on your cock as your cum flows out of her asshole. You free her and start jerking your cock off against her face. "I think I'm going to cum again; you're just too sexy, Eunha," you say to her. "Cum for me, daddy, cum for your little bunny," she says, sticking her tongue out. Her pretty face begging for it makes you lose it again, covering her blonde hair and sexy face with your white seed shortly after again.

"Thank you, Daddy," Eunha says as she licks your shaft and cleans it one final time. You go to bed and leave Eunha lying on the floor at the stairs, her body full of cum as you finish punishing that bad bunny. "You'll be sleeping here tonight," you say to her.

"The next day you wake up and don't find Eunha there, until you go to the kitchen and find a scene that makes you spill your milk: Eunha upside down and completely tied up. As she sees you, she asks you something.

"Daddy, can you punish me again?"

#eunha smut #viviz smut #gfriend smut #kpop smut #female idol smut #girl group smut #male reader smut

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hoshifighting · 10 months ago

Text

Ways to Have a Man in the Palm of Your Hand.

— Synopsis: In the flow of uncertainty that defined your situationship with Mingyu, you decide to take action, making Mingyu start chasing after you like a loyal puppy. — WC: 3.9k — WARNINGS: Smut, unprotected sex, overstimulation, degradation, begging on knees, oral (f. receiving), fingering– he watches reader fingering herself, handjob, dick riding, penetrative sex, humiliating, manipulation and etc.

Your life connected with Mingyu's since you both first met through your groups of friends, and a situationship had emerged between you two. It was just sex, with no strings attached and no promises made.

Yet, as the days turned into weeks and the weeks into months, it became challenging to keep your heart safe from the unpredictable tides of emotion.

Mingyu had a way of making you feel special. He'd surprise you with homemade dinners, he was attentive, considerate, and made sure to put your self-esteem on the highest with his skillful photography.

The tall and good-looking guy wasn't just amazing during sex; he was an enigma that both fascinated and frustrated you. Mingyu could vanish for days, leaving you on blue. But just as you were about to write him off, he'd resurface, as if nothing had happened. It was a maddening cycle, and yet, you found yourself caught in its web.

Mingyu: Hey! Been swamped asf with work lately. Let's grab coffee or something stronger soon? Let me know when you're free!

You couldn't help but scoff as you read Mingyu's message. His casual tone and nonchalant invitation stirred a mix of irritation and amusement within you. Swiftly typing a response, you questioned his unpredictable appearances.

You: Are you planning on always popping up out of nowhere like this?

Mingyu: I always come back, don't I? So, when are we catching up darling?

Despite the inner conflict and your ego's warning signals, there was an undeniable allure to Mingyu's charm. His words, laced with playfulness, had a magnetic effect that bypassed rational thoughts. With a sigh, you found yourself succumbing to the familiar pull.

The room was filled with the echoes of skin slapping as you both lay on Mingyu's bed, your eyes locked as you two moaned out loud, the crescendo of pleasure punctuated by the rhythmic thud of the bed against the wall.

Mingyu lays beside you, the heat of the moment still lingering between your bodies. You rose from the tangled sheets, picking up your scattered clothes. Mingyu's gaze remained fixed on you, an intensity that betrayed a deeper connection than the situationship allowed.

"I really like spending time with you Y/N"

"Me too Gyu."

[...]

Seungkwan leaned in "Okay, spill. What's the latest drama with Mingyu?"

You sighed, running a hand through your hair. "Honestly, I can't figure him out. It's like a cycle. We talk every day for a month, hang out, fuck, and then poof! He disappears for a week or more. I don't get it."

Seungkwan chuckled knowingly. "You know, maybe you should try something. Do the same to him, but take it up a notch. Make him miss you even more."

You furrowed your eyebrows, slightly taken aback. "Seungkwan, I'm not into playing games or being spiteful. It's not my style."

He waved his hand dismissively. "No, no, hear me out. It's not about being spiteful. It's about making him realize what he's missing. Mingyu knows you'll always be there, right? So, he takes it for granted. Maybe he needs a taste of his own medicine."

You raised an eyebrow, intrigued but cautious. "And how exactly do I do that?"

Your mouth hung open as Seungkwan delivered his comprehensive lesson in the art of emotional tactics. The confidence in his advice left you both amazed and slightly apprehensive. Unable to contain your curiosity any longer, you finally asked the burning question.

"How on earth do you know all of this, Seungkwan?" you inquired, eyes wide with disbelief.

Seungkwan leaned back, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Well, my dear friend, when you've been in the game as long as I have and witnessed enough romantic dramas unfold, you start picking up on patterns. It's like a survival guide for the heart."

You raised an eyebrow, still processing the information. "Survival guide, huh? And all this contempt, playing hard to get, and hurting egos – that's your secret weapon?"

Seungkwan chuckled, "Not a secret weapon, sometimes, a little strategic move can make all the difference. Trust me, I've seen it all."

With Seungkwan's advice resonating in your mind like a strategic playbook, you approached the next phase of your relationship with Mingyu, with a newfound determination. It felt like diving into a complex homework assignment, each step carefully calculated to shift the dynamics in your favor.

As you decided to implement the first step, a newfound sense of liberation washed over you. You stopped responding to Mingyu's messages immediately and resisted the urge to initiate contact. It felt strange at first, but there was a sense of power in reclaiming your time and not being at his beck and call. Mingyu's messages awaited your attention.

The challenge of making Mingyu realize he could lose you sparked a newfound determination. Your calendar filled up with plans that didn't involve Mingyu. Mingyu, accustomed to your constant availability, seemed to sense the change, though he couldn't quite pinpoint it. He might have been the object of desire for many hoes, but your indifference challenged his accustomed narrative.

After all, a man is not more important than your personal goals, right?

All while allowing Mingyu to observe your life unfolding without him. The realization that you were not waiting by the phone for him sparked a large curiosity.

Throughout the process, a mix of emotions surfaced. Doubt, at times, whispered in the back of your mind – was this the right approach? Seungkwan's advice, unconventional as it was, had brought a shift in Mingyu's behavior. Now, you wondered how Mingyu would respond to the transformed version of you – a person who refused to be taken for granted.

Mingyu's relentless messages flooded your phone. The janitor, a silent witness to the unfolding drama, discreetly shared the news of Mingyu's visits to your condominium entrance. Three times he had appeared, seeking a glimpse of you, only to be met with the absence of your presence, the deliberate distance, and the air of indifference were beginning to provoke a reaction from him.

You were determined to see this journey through, to understand whether Mingyu's renewed interest was genuine or a fleeting reaction to the perceived loss of control.

The persistent pings of Mingyu's messages had become a constant background noise in your life, infiltrating your workdays and even interrupting the serene moments of your brunches.

"Free today, Ms. Busy?"

"Pls respond to me. :(("

"Why are you acting like this?"

"Wtf…"

"Omggg, when are you going to answer me properly?"

"I'll invade your house."

"Y/N-ieeee, pleaseee!"

"I really want to see you right now."

"You make me so confused :("

The encounter at the pedestrian crossing unfolded in a scene of unexpected tension. Mingyu, spotting you in the midst of your Sunday morning run with Seungkwan, seized the opportunity to bridge the gap that had grown between you. As you halted, waiting for the light to change, Mingyu approached, a mixture of eagerness and confusion etched across his face.

"Hey there! Fancy meeting you here," Mingyu greeted, attempting to strike up a conversation.

Seungkwan, standing beside you, looked on with a side-eyed glance, a smirk playing on his lips as he sipped casually from his water bottle. As the pedestrian light shifted to green, you seized the moment to extricate yourself from the short encounter. "Sorry, Mingyu, I really need to finish my morning walk. Catch you later," you excused yourself, leaving Mingyu standing there, perplexed and surrounded by the bustling activity of the street.

He couldn't shake off the confusion – Why weren't you responding as before? Why weren't you as available as you used to be? Did you at least still like him? It dawned on Mingyu that the game had changed, and he wasn't sure if he understood the rules anymore. The pursuit, once fueled by the expectation of your constant availability, now seemed to slip through his fingers like grains of sand. The reality of being just one among the many who sought your attention was a bitter pill to swallow.

[...]

The doorbell's unexpected chime disrupted the tranquility of your self-care routine, with moisturized skin and a mind ready for a cozy movie night, you approached the door, curiosity dancing in your eyes.

As you swung the door open, the sulky face of Mingyu greeted you. A momentary pause hung in the air, your eyes meeting his in silent expectation. Before you could utter a word, Mingyu stepped inside, dropping to his knees and hugging your legs as if seeking solace.

Surprised by his sudden display of vulnerability, you widen your eyes, caught off guard by the intensity of his reaction. The door lingered ajar, and you managed to close it, arms crossed, a mixture of confusion and caution etched on your face.

Mingyu, still hugging your legs, looked up at you with pleading eyes, his voice laden with remorse. "What did I do, Y/N? Why are you treating me like this? I'm sorry."

"Hm?"

He looked up at you, his eyes brimming with a mix of confusion and regret. "I just… I don' understand. I miss you," he admitted, his voice trailing off.

Your initial surprise transformed into a mix of emotions – disbelief, a hint of empathy, and the need to assert your newfound boundaries. Crossed arms and a measured gaze met Mingyu's desperate expression. The sudden intrusion into your personal space prompted a silent assessment of the situation.

"What did you expect, Mingyu?" you countered, your voice steady but laced with the weight of unspoken questions. "You disappear, then reappear, and now you're kneeling in my living room. What's going on?"

"I messed up, okay? I thought I could keep things casual, but I didn't expect to feel like this. I miss the way things used to be between us." he confessed, his voice carrying a raw honesty.

"You ask me to come to your house, and then after you get what you wanted, you let me go. Do I look like a food delivery or something?" you confronted Mingyu, your words cutting through the charged silence that hung in the room.

Mingyu's eyes widened at your accusation, shock and a hint of hurt registering on his face. "No, no, no, Y/N, it wasn't like that."

You raised an eyebrow, a mix of skepticism and frustration evident in your expression. "It feels like you only want me around when it's convenient for you."

Mingyu, still on his knees, looked up at you, his eyes pleading for understanding. "It's not like that. I just... I didn't want to push you. I thought you preferred it this way."

You sighed, the weight of the unresolved tension palpable. "Mingyu, I can't read your mind. If you want me to stay, you have to say it. Communication goes both ways."

"Y/N, I'm truly sorry. I'll do whatever you want. I didn't see you as just a fleeting thing, and I want to be present."

Mingyu's earnest apology hung in the air, a plea for understanding and a promise to change. As he laid his face on your bare thighs, expressing his sincere regret, you cut through the moment with a tsk sound, a dismissive gesture that left him wide-eyed and caught off guard.

"Poor boy, begging on his knees for attention. What a shame," you remarked, a hint of teasing in your voice as you observed his reaction.

Mingyu, his hands now gripping each side of your thighs, sat back on his feet, his expression a mix of surprise and a subtle flush coloring his cheeks. He hadn't anticipated this response, your playful teasing catching him off guard.

"You didn't see me as a fleeting thing?" you continued, your tone mockingly contemplative. "Well, Mingyu, this is quite a sight – you, on your knees, practically begging for my attention. I'd never do something like this."

His widened eyes met yours, uncertainty and a trace of embarrassment flickering in them. Mingyu's bit his lip, cheeks flushing deeper.

"I'll do whatever you want, Y/N. Just tell me," Mingyu replied, his hands still holding your thighs.

You let out a soft chuckle, running a hand through his hair as you continued your teasing. "Oh, Mingyu-ah, the mighty one on his knees. Maybe you'll learn to appreciate what you have when it's not handed to you on a silver platter. Now, let's see if you can keep up with your promises."

As you spoke, Mingyu's cheeks continued to flush, a complex dance of emotions playing out on his face. "How can you forgive me?"

Mingyu's question hung in the air, a genuine plea for forgiveness. You paused, considering the weight of his words, before adopting a more serious tone.

"Get up," you instructed him, your voice carrying a command that seemed to catch him off guard.

Mingyu, without hesitation, rose to his feet from his submissive position. His eyes fixed on you. An arched eyebrow and a smirk played on your face, savoring the moment of dominance as you instructed him to follow you.

The atmosphere grew charged with anticipation as Mingyu attentively trailed behind you, his eyes inevitably drawn to your body covered only by a shirt. The click of your bedroom door signaled a shift in the dynamics, and when you turned to face him, his eagerness manifested in an attempted kiss.

Your finger halted his advance, a calculated pause preceding your question, "Do you think you deserve to kiss me?"

Mingyu, his eyes reflecting a mix of longing and remorse, shook his head no. Your smirk deepened as you delivered a verdict that left him whimpering.

"Then you won't kiss me today."

A whimper escaped Mingyu's lips, a sound that echoed the frustration and desire that simmered beneath the surface. The unexpected turn of events had left him yearning for a connection, yet you, in your assertive control, denied him that solace.

As the tension hung in the air, Mingyu's eyes glistened with unshed tears. The dynamics between you had taken a surprising turn, a power play that left both of you navigating the intricate threads of desire, forgiveness, and the consequences of a maybe – ex-complicated situationship.

With a commanding tone, you instructed Mingyu to kneel once again, a subtle smirk playing on your lips. He obeyed, sinking down to his knees with a mix of anticipation and eagerness. The air in the room crackled with a palpable tension as you laid down the terms.

"If you act like a good boy, maybe I'll forgive you," you declared, your voice carrying a hint of authority.

Mingyu nodded earnestly, a silent pledge to abide by your terms. As you proceeded to remove your shirt, next your pantie, allowing it to fall to the floor, the atmosphere became charged with a new layer of intensity.

"How much do you want this pussy Mingyu?" you inquired, the question hanging in the air as you observed Mingyu's reaction. His shoulders slumped, a subtle expression of desire and longing evident on his face.

"A lot," he moaned, the words escaping his lips with a mixture of need and surrender. Your legs spread open, an invitation too tempting, as he feels his mouth waters at the view.

"Open your mouth," you commanded Mingyu, your voice carrying an air of authority. He complied without hesitation, anticipation flickering in his eyes.

As he held his mouth open, you slid two fingers inside, the intimate contact a subtle exploration of boundaries and desire. Mingyu's tongue teased your fingers, a provocative dance that elicited a hiss from you.

"No teasing," you admonished, a note of warning in your voice. With a swift motion, you delivered a little slap to his chin as you withdrew your fingers from his mouth. The air crackled with a newfound tension, a moment that blurred the lines between control and submission.

Mingyu furrowed his eyebrows, as he watched your fingers slowly disappearing inside of your cunt, your fingers and your slick gushes out of you, and all he can do is watch. He sits patiently on his feet, watching your fingers leaving and entering your pussy in a too provocative rhythm. His bottom lip quivering to the desire of eating you out.

"Please Y/N…"

"What?''

"Please, let me eat you out, it looks so good…"

To tease him even more, you fastened your fingers, moaning while your cunt sounded like Mingyu's favorite song, wet, luscious, mouthwatering, appetizing, tempting. He cries out, his hands together on his lap. "Please, I beg you, I missed you so bad."

The room was charged with a blend of anticipation and surrender as you stopped, taking a moment to look at Mingyu's mournful face. The desire in his eyes was palpable, and the silent plea for what he had begged for lingered in the air.

With a subtle nod, you allowed him to fulfill his request. Mingyu, starved and eager, approached the task with a concentration that hinted at a deep desire to please you. As he held you with a gentle yet fervent touch, mouthing your pussy, licking you clean, his focus on your pleasure was unwavering. The way he clung to you conveyed a fear of losing you, made you mewl as he sucked your clit, you held onto the sheets, a silent anchor in the sea of sensations. Mingyu's devotion and the way he concentrated on your pleasure only intensified the building release within you. Like a wave, you're cumming all over his mouth and chin, he hums in response flickering your clit with his tongue.

"Enough." You breathe out, closing your legs. "Strip, and lay for me."

Mingyu rose from the floor, a determined look on his face, seemingly oblivious to any discomfort his knees might be feeling. The sounds of his clothing being discarded echoed in the room, punctuated by the soft thud as he settled onto the bed. The mattress shifted as he moved closer, his warm touch caressing your arm.

"What are you going to do?" he asked, his voice a low murmur, a hint of curiosity and desire lingering in the air.

"Don't touch me," you instructed Mingyu, your tone carrying a note of command as you climbed onto his lap. Leaving him momentarily frozen, his hands hovering in the air, uncertain of where to go.

The close proximity of his cock intensified the wetness between your thighs. Mingyu, eager and responsive, looked at you with a mix of desire and restraint, his hands now cautiously placed together on his chest.

The atmosphere crackled with a blend of dominance and submission as you straddled Mingyu, humping your wet pussy against his cock, your movements deliberate and provocative. His moans in response to your degrading words only heightened the intensity of the moment.

"Oh my god, look at you," you cooed, your voice a mix of mockery and desire. "I just stopped paying attention to you, and you came fucking begging me to talk with you. You're humiliating, Mingyu."

His moans, a symphony of pleasure and submission, filled the room. Mingyu's response to your degrading words conveyed a complex dance of desire and self-awareness. The acknowledgment that he deserved the degradation.

The room filled with a momentary hush as you sank your hips, Mingyu's length now fully inside. He shut his eyes, a silent surrender to the sensations that enveloped him.

The unspoken admission hung in the air—though you wouldn't openly admit it, there was a trace of longing, a subtle acknowledgment that, despite the complexities, you had missed him a little. The air became charged with a mix of desire and restraint as your hips rode him, his length fully fulfilling the connection between you.

His angry tip brushed against that special spot, sending a surge of pleasure through both of you, cause now, you were so tight around him. "I'm going to cum, f-fuck"

"You better not."

The charged atmosphere intensified as you edged Mingyu, denying him release, while simultaneously relishing in the control you held over his pleasure. He gasped for air, his eyes clenched shut, a desperate attempt to hold back as your dominating presence and the sensations of your movements threatened to overwhelm him.

Your hips moved with a purposeful intensity, driving him to the edge, and his body contorted in a desperate attempt to maintain control. The struggle was evident in the way his breath hitched and his eyes rolled back, succumbing to the overwhelming pleasure that surged through him.

"I-I can't hold it anymore," he stuttered, his voice strained with the effort of restraint.

"If you cum, I will-"

The moment of release was inevitable. Mingyu's hot cum filled you, triggering your own orgasm, he cried out your name, making your wall clench harder around him.

As Mingyu managed a string of apologies, you allowed him to slide out of you, leaving his lap coated with both of your arousal, your legs damp with his seed.

The scoff echoed in the room, a mix of amusement and assertion. However, your actions spoke a different language. As you tighten your legs around the sides of Mingyu's legs, restraining his movement, your hands take control, pumping his cock fast. The focus on his red tip elicited a loud cry from Mingyu, his back lifting off the mattress in response to the overstimulation.

The wet sounds filled the bedroom as the intensity of your touch drove him to the edge. Mingyu's hands gripped the pillow beneath his head, a desperate attempt to anchor himself in the whirlwind of sensations that consumed him.

As Mingyu's body trembled under the heightened sensations, he felt a knot tightening in his abdomen, a sensation he hadn't anticipated. The overwhelming intensity built up to a point where he couldn't contain it anymore. A primal scream tore from his lips, his body convulsing in the throes of another orgasm.

His cum pooled on his abdomen, a physical manifestation of the powerful release that coursed through him. You observed his trembling body, struck by the raw intensity of his response. Mingyu's reaction seemed to surpass any previous experiences, his vulnerability and ecstasy on display in a way you hadn't witnessed before.

"Sorry, I came without your permission…"

"Enough with the sorry's, Mingyu," you said with a soft smile. "Let's just take a bath."

As the warm water cascaded around you, cleansing away the external worries, you both found solace in the simplicity of the moment. Emerging from the bath, you lay on the bed alone, the silence speaking volumes. Mingyu, holding his shirt, stood in contemplation. His gaze met yours, and he released a breath he seemed to have been holding.

The room felt charged with unspoken emotions when Mingyu finally gathered the courage to ask, "Can we sleep together tonight? Can I stay here with you?"

His eyes held a lot of shyness, and for a moment, you felt a genuine change in the air. You bit your lip, a subtle smile playing on your lips. In response, you patted the bed twice, a silent invitation for him to join you.

Mingyu threw his shirt away with a smile, a blend of shyness and excitement. He settled on the bed, maintaining a cautious distance, uncertain about what the night held. Your gaze met his, and you turned to face him. His eyes sparkled, and with a newfound boldness, he closed the gap and hugged you tightly.

"Don't be away from me again," he whispered, his voice tinged with vulnerability. And for the first time in those weeks, you let yourself savor the sweet taste of his pink soft lips, making him melt in response.

You smiled, your palms sliding gently along his back. The walls that once stood between you seemed to crumble as Mingyu embraced you, his actions speaking louder than any words. In that moment, it felt like a page turned, and a new chapter began.

Well, Seungkwan, you knew a lot. The five ways to have a man in the palm of your hand indeed.

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ja3yun · 4 months ago

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pour it | p.sh

bartender!sunghoon x bartender!reader

warnings: smut (mdni), unprotected sex, cream pie, cum plugging, choking, slight nipple play, pls never fuck your co-workers (saying from experience), mentions of alcohol ofc, not proof read, anything else lmk!

w.c: 3.5k

REQ: Imagine Sunghoon and you are bartenders for a club and all shifts you guys are always stealing glances at eachother or having lingering touches while you make drinks one day u need to go get more supplies from the back and the tension is so thick he can’t take it anymore and takes you on the boxes of supplies with messy alcohol pouring sex

a/n: hi! it's me and my inability to write a small drabble and turning it into a semi-fic. hope you don't mind, anonnie! i had a lot of fun with this but as someone who used to bartend during uni, you can imagine the flashbacks going through my mind (i also spilt the keg on me like this so, personal experience and some aj lore for you). hope you enjoy!

The club is alive with the throbbing beat of the latest hits, a kaleidoscope of coloured lights dancing over the crowd packed tightly onto the dance floor. The air is thick with the mingled scents of perfume, sweat, and the unmistakable tang of alcohol. Behind the bar, it's a different world, a fast-paced rhythm of cocktail shakers, clinking glasses, and the endless chatter of patrons.

You’re in your element, expertly mixing drinks, the repetitive motions are almost second nature by now. But tonight, there's an added layer of tension simmering beneath the surface. Sunghoon, your coworker, has been brushing past you intentionally for the nth time tonight.

The bar is small, and with Freshers Friday in full swing, it’s a given that there’s going to be constant cross-overs between staff, clambering for ice and lemon wedges. But does he have to hold your waist as he passes, fingers lingering just a moment too long, or reach behind you for a glass when there are plenty on his end? Each touch sends a spark of electricity through your body, your pulse quickening despite your best efforts to ignore it.

You steal a glance at Sunghoon. He’s busy pouring a drink, his jaw set in concentration, but there’s a ghost of a smirk on his lips. He knows exactly what he’s doing. His dark eyes flick to yours for the briefest moment, and you feel a flush rise to your cheeks. You turn away quickly, focusing on the drink order in front of you.

The club's atmosphere is a mix of chaos and thrill. Neon lights flicker and pulse in time with the music, casting a surreal glow over the sea of bodies moving in sync. The bass reverberates through the floor, through your bones, creating an almost tangible sense of energy.

“Excuse me,” Sunghoon’s voice is low, just above a whisper, as he leans in to reach for a bottle of vodka on the shelf behind you. His chest brushes against your back, and you can feel the heat radiating from his body. You grit your teeth, trying to focus on the cocktail you’re mixing, but it’s no use. Every nerve in your body is attuned to his presence.

“Do you mind?” you snap, but your voice lacks the bite you intended. It comes out breathy, more of a plea than a command.

Sunghoon chuckles softly, his breath warm against your ear. “Sorry, Y/N. It’s just so crowded back here.” His hand trails down your arm as he pulls away, and you shudder involuntarily.

You know he’s teasing you, pushing boundaries, testing your reactions. And damn it, it’s working. You can feel the tension between you two building, a palpable thing that hangs in the air, thick and heavy.

It’s been like this since he started working here a few months ago. Training him up was harder than anticipated, not because he wasn’t good at it or couldn’t follow instructions, but because it took everything in your willpower not to pounce on him. Once, you showed him how to make the bar’s signature Long Island Iced Tea. While he was pouring the Triple Sec into the mixer, the veins on his arms and hands strained, the muscles flexing with each precise movement. It was the moment you realized you had a hand kink.

Nothing could stop your imagination since then, constantly thinking about his hands on your throat, the way they would feel gripping you, controlling you. Every time he reached past you or brushed against you, those thoughts flared to life, vivid and consuming.

The club is a frenzy of movement and sound, but all you can focus on is Sunghoon. He’s making his way back to your end of the bar, and you can feel your heart rate spike in anticipation. He stops beside you, close enough that you can feel the heat emanating from his body.

“Need help with that?” he asks, his voice smooth and teasing, as he reaches for a wine glass on the rack above your head. His arm brushes against you, and the contact sends a shiver down your spine.

“I’ve got it,” you reply, but your voice betrays you, coming out softer, almost breathless. He smirks, clearly pleased with your reaction. He is nothing if not cocky and you do nothing but fuel it.

“Sure you do,” he murmurs, his breath tickling your ear. His fingers trail lightly across your waist as he steps back, a fleeting touch that leaves you craving more. His cologne isn’t helping either, the dark musk of Sauvage engulfing your nostrils and filtering its way straight to your core.

You bite your lip, trying to regain your composure, but it’s no use. Your mind is racing, filled with images of his hands on you, the way they would feel exploring your body, holding you down. You can’t stop thinking about the power he seems to have over you, how easily he can make you lose focus.

Your manager comes up behind you both, pointing between you. “I need you both to change the Guinness keg. A whole team of Celtic fans just came in and they’ll bleed us dry in a minute,” he explains.

He doesn’t know that the innocent, very much part of your job request makes your heart stop for a moment. The charged energy between you and Sunghoon is so strong tonight that being alone with him, even for a second, could lead to losing all your inhibitions. You don’t mind fucking your co-workers, god knows you’ve had your fair share of fun with Jay and Heeseung in the past, but this feels different.

As soon as Sunghoon bites those teeth into you, figuratively and physically, you have a sneaking suspicion that there is no going back.

“I can handle it myself,” you say quickly, trying to avoid the inevitable. “It’s only a one-person job.”

But Sunghoon is already stepping forward, his hand on the small of your back, guiding you towards the stockroom. “Come on, Y/N. It’ll go faster with two,” he says, his tone leaving no room for argument, waving the manager off.

His touch is subtle but it feels heavy, and you curse inwardly at how easily he affects you. You let him lead you through the throng of staff, your body hyper-aware of every point of contact. This is bad, very bad.

As you enter the dimly lit back room, the noise of the club fades slightly, leaving the sound of your and Sunghoon’s footsteps and breaths as the only chorus to the quiet song of the corridor. The corridor always gives you the creeps, the lime-green walls and chipped floor make you feel sick, sicker than you already are.

It’s not even that big of a deal, so what are you panicking for? Just go in, change the keg, and get back to serving duties. Plain and simple, easy as pie.

But as you reach the keg room, your hands are trembling slightly. You push open the door and step inside, the cold air hitting you like a slap. The room is filled with the metallic scent of beer and the cool hum of the refrigeration system. Sunghoon steps in behind you, the door closing with a soft thud.

He moves to grab a keg from the stack in the corner, and you can’t help but watch, mesmerized by the way his muscles ripple under his white t-shirt. The fabric clings to him, highlighting every contour, every flex. His biceps bulge as he lifts the heavy keg effortlessly, and you swallow hard, feeling a fresh wave of heat course through you.

Focus, you scold yourself. You turn to the valve, reaching up to shut it off. Your fingers fumble slightly, the cold metal biting into your skin. You can’t stop glancing at Sunghoon, at the way his forearms strain, veins standing out in sharp relief. It’s distracting, and you’re not paying enough attention to what you’re doing.

You step forward to disconnect the old keg, but you don’t leave enough time for the pipe to empty. As you twist the connector, there’s a sudden, forceful spray of beer, catching you off guard. You yelp, trying to dodge the spray, but it’s too late.

Sunghoon is at your side in an instant, his hands covering yours as he twists the valve shut. But not before both of you are thoroughly soaked. The cold beer soaks through your clothes, making you shiver.

“Damn it,” you mutter, looking down at the mess. Your shirt clings to you, and you can feel the liquid dripping from your hair. You glance up at Sunghoon, and despite the situation, you can’t help but laugh at the sight of him drenched, his hair plastered to his forehead.

“Nice going,” he says with a chuckle, shaking his head. “You always this clumsy?”

“I usually know what I’m doing,” you retort, but there’s no heat in your words. You’re too distracted by the way his wet shirt clings to his body, outlining every muscle and defined bump of his toned stomach.

Sunghoon steps closer, his eyes dark and intense. “You okay?” he asks, his voice low with a hint of seduction, the rasp in his voice turning you dizzy.

“Yeah, just...wet,” you reply, shivering slightly. The cold beer and the cool air of the keg room are a stark contrast to the heat building between you two. You probably should have chosen a better sentence to utter into existence, knowing how it could be taken.

He reaches out, his fingers brushing a strand of wet hair from your face. “You know, this wasn’t exactly how I imagined getting you wet,” he says, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

Your breath catches at his words, and you know you should leave it at that, laugh it off, and walk away. But with his close proximity and his breath fanning your face, you’re almost under his spell. “What do you mean?” you ask, your voice barely more than a whisper, tinged with curiosity and something darker.

Sunghoon steps forward, and you instinctively step back, making your back press against the cold wall of the keg room. He eyes you up and down, licking his lips as though he was a lion hunting his prey. “You know what I mean, Y/N.”

The beat of your heart skips, and you nod, agreeing. You aren’t stupid, you’re just horny.

Leaning down to ghost his lips over yours, his eyes grow hungry as they hood over, boring into yours intensely. “I want to bend you over and fuck you so hard you can’t remember your own name,” he murmurs, his voice low and gravelly. “I want to make you gasp for air, to hear you scream my name until your throat is raw. I want to leave marks all over your body so everyone knows what I did to you.”

You're quivering now, and every syllable sends a zap of electricity into you. His hand moves down your arm, fingertips brushing your skin and leaving a path of fire in its wake.

“I really thought I was going to lose it up there and bend you over the bar and fuck you in front of all those punters,” he continues, his lips so close to yours that you can feel the heat of his breath. H

A whimper escapes your lips, unbidden, and his eyes widen in surprise and delight. “Oh? You like it when others watch? You want me to drag you up there and give everyone a show?” he teases, his voice dripping with amusement and arousal.

You shake your head in a daze, lust taking over because all you can breathe in is his presence. “No...not there.” Exhibitionism isn’t really up there in your list of kinks, not really for your own dignity, you couldn’t care less about who sees you naked or fucked out, but you hate the idea of anyone seeing Sunghoon and getting ideas.

Jealousy wasn’t an emotion you thought you possessed until he started at the bar. The other bartenders flirting with him in the breakroom or customers asking for his number over the bar quaked your heart a little, injecting a tiny speck of green into your bloodstream. You might have been apprehensive to start anything with Sunghoon, but that doesn’t mean others get a chance to shoot their shot.

“Oh? So what I’m hearing is you do want me to fuck you?” he presses, his voice a husky whisper. His cockiness is showing once again, tongue roaming over his sharp canine lazily as his eyes drink you in.

“Yes,” you breathe out, unable to hold back any longer. The need in your voice is unmistakable, and it only seems to fuel his desire.

Rolling his eyes in relief, he undoes your apron from the front and lets it fall to the floor. “Finally,” he mutters, his demeanour switching from teasing to something darker, more intense. In a flash, he has your black trousers unbuttoned and fully off your body, your panties following, leaving you bare with only your soaked white work t-shirt covering you.

He grabs your waist and hoists you up against the wall, your legs wrapping around his hips instinctively. With one hand, he reaches and undoes the button of his own trousers, shimmying them down slightly and whipping out his cock.

As it springs to attention, you feel it graze your folds, so close to where you desperately need it. The heat and hardness of him against your wetness make you gasp, your nails digging into his shoulders.

Sunghoon smirks, positioning himself right at your entrance. “You’ve been driving me crazy, you know that?” he murmurs, his breath brushing against your skin. “Watching you, wanting you...you kept me waiting too fucking long.”

“Please,” you whisper, your voice trembling with anticipation. “I need you.”

His eyes darken with lust at your plea, and without another word, he thrusts into you, burying himself to the hilt. The sudden fullness makes you cry out, your head falling back against the wall. He’s big, stretching you in ways that have your toes curling. You can feel every inch of him, thick and pulsing, as he fills you completely. It’s overwhelming, the way he pushes your walls apart, making you see colours you didn’t know existed.

“Fuck, you’re tight,” he growls, starting to move. His pace is relentless, each thrust hard and deep, driving you up the wall with every stroke. Your moans mix with his grunts, the sound of skin slapping against skin echoing in the small room. You’re thankful that the room is isolated in the middle of the basement or else you’re convinced everyone upstairs could hear you.

His hands grip your hips, holding you in place as he pounds into you. You can feel the power and control in his movements, the way he takes what he wants, and it drives you wild. “You like this, don’t you?” he pants, his lips brushing against your ear, his breath hot and erratic. “You like being taken so hard you forget everything else?”

“Yes,” you gasp, your voice barely a whisper against the overwhelming stimulation. “Yes, Sunghoon, don’t stop.”

You bring one of his hands up to your throat, a silent plea for him to fulfil your fantasy. His eyes widen for a moment, and then a dark smile spreads across his face. “You want it?” he asks, his voice a dangerous whisper. “You want me to choke you?”

“Yes,” you whisper, your voice trembling with need. “Please.”

Sunghoon’s grip tightens around your throat, the pressure just enough to make your head spin, adding a delicious haze to your already overwhelming pleasure. Each of his thrusts feels like a shockwave of ecstasy, stretching you and filling you in ways that make your entire body tingle with need. His cock throbs inside you, the thick, hard length gliding in and out with a relentless rhythm.

“You’re so fucking perfect,” he growls, his voice a guttural mix of pleasure and dominance. His free hand slides up your body, brushing over your sensitive skin, and his fingers tease at your nipples through the soaked fabric of your t-shirt, making you grateful that you wore a mesh bra today rather than your usual beat-up t-shirt. The contact sends jolts of pleasure straight to your core, heightening the sensations.

Your nails dig into his back as you cling to him to stay against the wall, leaving marks that make him hiss and drive his thrusts even harder. Every push, every pull, feels like it’s unravelling you completely. The pressure around your throat makes your breathing shallow, and the world outside this small room seems to blur into insignificance. All that exists is the raw, primal connection between you and Sunghoon.

Clamping your walls down on him, you mewl out as the tip of his cock reaches a depth no other man has been able to reach, kissing your cervix with intimacy and urgency as you suck him in with each clench of your core.

Hissing, Sunghoon’s head burrows into your neck, his palm now pressed against your jugular in a beautifully punishing manner. “Fuck, Y/N, your cunt is so greedy for it.”

The words send a fresh wave of heat through you, and your moans become more desperate, more pleading. You arch your back, pushing yourself further onto him, needing him deeper, harder. “Sunghoon, I’m so close,” you whimper, your voice breaking with the intensity.

He responds with a fierce, primal growl, increasing the pace of his thrusts. Each movement is forceful, almost punishing, but it’s exactly what you need. “Cum,” he commands, his voice rough and demanding. “I want to feel you cream all over me.”

With that final command, the pressure around your throat and the relentless pounding of his cock push you over the edge. Your body trembles violently, and you cry out his name as wave after wave of ecstasy crashes over you. Your orgasm is all-encompassing, a dizzying mix of pleasure and release that leaves you gasping for breath, clinging to him.

Sunghoon’s own release follows almost immediately, his body tensing as he buries himself deep inside you, groaning your name with a raw intensity. His cock pulses with each spurt, filling you completely. The heat of his climax mixes with the remnants of your orgasm, creating a deliciously overwhelming sensation.

He holds you tightly, his breath ragged against your neck, as both of you ride out the aftershocks of your climaxes. Slowly, he eases his grip on your throat and pulls back slightly, his eyes still dark with desire but now softened with a trace of concern.

Sunghoon’s gaze softens as he looks at you, his breath still coming in short, ragged bursts. He brushes the damp strands of hair from your face, his touch tender against your flushed skin. “You okay?” he asks, his voice a gentle murmur, filled with concern and dissipating lust.

You nod, a satisfied smile on your lips despite the trembling of your voice. “More than okay,” you breathe out, your body still trembling from the intensity of the climax.

Sunghoon’s eyes hold a mix of tenderness and desire. He leans in, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to your lips. The contrast between the gentleness of the kiss and the fierceness of what had just transpired sends a shiver through you. “Good,” he murmurs against your lips, his voice low and soothing. “Because we’re far from done.”

He slowly lowers you to the ground, his hands steady and careful. As he kneels before you, a look of wonder crosses your face, mixed with a lingering haze of desire. His fingers, still slick with your combined release, gently part your folds, teasing and exploring.

You gasp as his fingers find their way to your sensitive entrance, carefully stuffing his dripping cum back into you. The sensation is both intense and oddly comforting, a reminder of the connection you’ve shared. Your breath hitches as you feel the warmth and slickness inside you.

“Sunghoon-” you start, but his gaze, both commanding and affectionate, cuts you off.

“Keep that there until our shift is over,” he instructs, his voice firm but laced with an underlying promise of more. “I don’t want a drop of it out of you.”

His words send a fresh thrill through you, a combination of pleasure and anticipation. “When we clock out, you’re coming back to mine, end of story,” he continues, his tone brooking no argument.

You look up at him, your eyes meeting his with a mixture of surprise and eagerness. “Okay,” you manage to say, your voice steadying despite the rush of emotions.

“Great,” he smiles innocently, as if he didn’t just fuck you so good you thought you saw Jesus marking you off the gates VIP list. “Now help me with this keg.”

_____

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no-144444 · 25 days ago

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a creepy guy who isn't all that creepy- o.bearman

Day 18 of fic-tober! fic-tober masterlist

summary: Why does your cappuccino taste like shit? And why are you being followed by a random 6 foot man?

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You walked down the streets of Monaco with a frown on your face. It was raining, and on the rare occasion it rained in Monaco, it fucking poured. You powered through the cold water hitting your skin and manoeuvred your way through the various crowds to your favourite coffee shop. It was a small hole-in-the-wall kind of place. It was cosy, it had good coffee, and usually no one bothered you. You ordered a vanilla cappuccino, knowing that you definitely had somewhere you should be (aka, your office) but you just couldn’t sit inside any longer. Fresh out of college and into an office job, it was great, of course, but sometimes the bland office was slightly oppressive to your creativity. You were an author after all. Published at the ripe age of 20. You had your book tour coming up soon, and you’d be busy with family in a few months too, and-

“Cappuccino?” the barista, Martha (yes, you were on a first name basis with the staff, you frequented a lot) called out. Quickly, you swiped the cup and rushed off, hopeful that your manager wouldn’t mention how long you were gone.

“Sorry?” a British voice called out behind you, but you ignored it. There was a British guy there, some name starting with L, who tried to ask for your number, and refused to take no for an answer, so you moved on assuming it was him.

Onward you went, trudging down the almost empty streets, your headphones in. You took a sip of your drink and instead of the usual vanilla foam and black coffee goodness, you were met with a bland black coffee and regular foam. Well, you couldn’t fault them too much, maybe it was their subtle way to tell you to stop ordering the same thing everyday? You weren’t sure. Regardless, you continued on your path, a feeling of unease growing in your stomach as you noticed the tall man behind you, following.

You sped up, took your keys out-

“Sorry, I don’t mean to intrude, I think I picked up your coffee by accident?” A British voice spoke from beside you.

Oh. Not so creepy then. Just a mix up.

“Fucking hell!” you gasped. “Were you not taught to not sneak up on people?”

He guiltily smiled. “I did try to call you in the coffee shop, but you walked off…”

“Oh,” you nodded. You took the lid off of your coffee and handed him the cup. He handed you his without the lid. You took a quick sip to find that it was in fact your vanilla cappuccino.

A bright smile spread across your face. He smiled too.

“Sorry about that,” you smiled.

“I’m sorry too,” he apologised. “Do I know you from somewhere?”

You shrugged. “Read a lot of thriller fiction?”

“You’re Y/n Y/l/n!” he exclaimed. “Yes! I love your books.”

You nodded, it still shocked you that people read your books. “Thank you.”

“Sorry, this is probably weird,” he shook his head, embarrassed. “Can you sign my book please?”

He quickly grabbed your latest release out of his backpack with a sharpie, and looked at you with a crooked smile.

You obliged, as you often did with fans. “What’s your name?”

“Ollie, Ollie Bearman,” he smiled.

You turned to him. “I know you too! You’re incredible!”

He looked at you in surprise. “You watch F1?”

“Yeah,” you stated like it was obvious. “You were incredible on your debut, and in Baku.”

He blushed slightly, and you smiled. “Thank you very much.”

You finished signing his book then handed it back. “I guess I’ll see you on the track next year,” you smiled. “Good luck.”

And with that you walked on. He peeked inside his book to find your personal phone number with a note that said ‘call me xxx’ and smirked.

Who knew messing up a coffee order could go so well?

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navigation for my blog :) (masterlist)

fic-tober masterlist

taglist: @anotherapollokid @theseerbetweenus @simbaaas-stuff @5sospenguinqueen @yootvi

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celestialprincesse · 9 months ago

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Simon coming home to sleepy partner💤☁️

nsfw below the cut 🪽 mdni 🤍

Simon, more often than not, comes home late after getting back from deployments. seeing as after landing on home soil, they still have to mission debrief, collect and pack up their belongings and say their goodbyes, Simon is itching to get back home - back to you.

When he does, and you're all curled up in your shared bed, head resting on his pillow, one of his shirts clutched tight to your chest, sound asleep in his sweater, which had ridden up the arch of your spine to reveal thin cotton panties that have him straining at his boxers. It's when your eyes open at the sound of him dumping his bags, half lidded and lazy until you register his presence and spring up in the bed, running to meet him with tears of relief already pooling on your lower lashes. By no means does Simon Riley consider himself a needy man - in fact, quite the opposite, he's practised restraint his entire life. That said, after months away with nothing but his hand and some very private polaroids to sort himself out, he's desperate, already pushing you back until the backs of your knees are hitting the bedframe, collapsing underneath him with the thick comforter giving a whooshing exhale of air under the sudden addition of your bodyweight.

The latest deployment had been especially tough, stationed in some shithole with no cell service or access to a secure line. Soap had been fine, copping off with local women when he grew bored of his hand, Gaz had Simon fully convinced that he had some kind of erectile dysfunction with how long he could go with no contact, whilst Price and Simon had to settle with a few grainy photos of their partners and the thought that they'd soon be home.

Now, when he noses at your neck and smells sweet perfume and your laundry detergent, it feels very much like a wet dream coming true. He doesn't even bother to fully take your panties off before he's thumbing at your clit through the flimsy material, stripping himself of his gear with one hand. He quickly grows frustrated with the way his dick is straining at the fly of his pants, grunting as he pulls his hand away to strip his clothes off, whilst you take the opportunity to lose your panties, throwing them vaguely in the direction of the hamper , parting your legs and bending them at the knee, waiting for him with your bottom lip chewed anxiously between your teeth. He doesn't even bother kicking his clothes away, kneeling on where they're piled up at the side of the bed as he grabs your hips with hands that have forgotten to be gentle after being rough for so long, pulls you to the edge of the bed, hooking his forearms under your thighs and splaying his hands over your stomach as he noses at your clit. There's a feral, barely concealed glint in his eye as he whispers kisses against your cunt, murmuring how bad he missed you, about how you look more beautiful than when he left. "Missed y' so fuckin' much baby. Missed your angel face." He growls into your skin, the tears mixing in your eyes split between need and pure relief.

He doesn't even bother with his fingers as he licks a hot stripe between your folds, your hips twitching under his hands as he savours you like a last meal. "Si.." You whine out sweetly, voice whiny and utterly pathetic. "Tha's right. Tha's it, gonna let me hear ya?" His Mancunian accent, eroded around the edges from years of travel, and the rumble of his voice have you on edge, hands gripping into the sheets as you let your eyes fall back into your head swimming with utter bliss. "Mmhm!"

Not even a minute later, Simon looks utterly perplexed as you try and shimmy yourself away from his tongue, despite the way your thighs are clamped like a vice around his ears. "Wha's wrong baby?" He growls, messy brows furrowed in concern as he looks up at you in the near darkness of your bedroom. "Jus' need you, Si." You whine, body short circuiting as you consciously attempt to free his face from between your legs whilst the animal side of your brain compels you to keep him there and continue the ecstasy his tongue spearing into you provides. Your needy words cause his expression to perk up as he gently guides your knees outwards so he can actually remove his face from where it's stuffed between your thighs and cunt.

From your position on the bed, and his kneeling beside it, you'd been unable to see the way his cock was already hard and leaking, bouncing against his stomach, but as he pushes you back to the centre of the mattress, you got a full view of his pretty dick as he lines the pearly tip against your entrance, smearing precum against it as though to make the stretch easier (which is a total placebo). His fingers loop through yours as he notches his tip inside, refusing to blink as you take him to the hilt with a quiet whine, lashes fluttering against your cheeks as you fight the urge to squeeze your eyes shut. "Fuck, 've missed seein' you take me so well." the sound of his grunts and the lewd squelch which accompanies his thrusts is the only thing besides your airy moans and his soft growls filling your blissful bedroom.

The sight of you alone has him almost embarrassingly close to finishing inside of you, but when your pussy flutters around him and you give a choked off keen before cumming around his cock, he gives up on any restraint, snapping his hips so that his tip hits your cervix, ropes of hot cum spilling into your tight heat as he lets his head fall into the crook of your neck, repeating how perfect you are, how much he loves you and missed you.

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Meant for this to be some cutie, fluffy little brainrot not 1k of smut Sorry! (not sorry!😚) also this isn't edited because rereading my own writing makes me cringe so apologies 4 any mistakes 🩷

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cupcakeslushie · 2 months ago

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First || Prev || …

Here’s the next part of the Kendratello AU! I knew it was going to be very dialogue heavy, so I figured writing it out would be fast, but I’m so ready to be done with it that I’ve not really beta read it. So I apologize for any errors. But enjoy!

Splinter loves his sons, but these last few days have been eating away at his already shriveled and fraying nerves. Watching his children ambling around their home, for months, each in varying states of anxiety, fear, and distress, hasn’t been easy on his old heart.

They’ve been through so much, experienced more hardships than Splinter has ever wanted for them. But the latest crucible tearing his family apart was caused, not by some ancient demon, or world-ending threat—but a fiendishly smart, young woman.

One who’d kidnapped his son and replaced him with a stranger that Splinter hardly recognized.

The bitter tale is too familiar for the old movie star to painlessly swallow. It seems fate played such cruel tricks sometimes. Always seeming to strike harsher the second go around. With outcomes even more brutal and painful. His son was stolen by a hateful, sadistic woman, and kept locked away, until she was satisfied with the new toy that emerged from the shadows.

So it stands to reason how…relieved Splinter had been that one, early morning. When his three sons had pulled Purple into his bedroom, piling into his bed, nothing but wide eyes and panicked shouting; one over the other. Looking back now, he can recognize how short-sighted his quick relief had been. But in the moment, as a father, Splinter had only seen this new, strange development as a blessing.

Donatello might have been confused, and irritated with his brother’s manhandling, but Splinter could clearly see more life in those eyes than he’d witnessed in months. Splinter had shushed the rest, and spoken to Purple directly, finally getting a better grasp on what his sons were shouting about.

Amnesia.

So, of course, relief. Because how could forgetting all those horrible, tortuous weeks in that woman’s grasp, possibly be a bad thing? By some miracle, Splinter’s boy had been returned to him. Nowhere near that frail ghost of Donatello, which Splinter would sometimes find curled up on the floor of his own lab, screaming Kendra’s name and sobbing to be returned to her care.

He had been spared all of that, like it never happened. Their family had been handed a gift, and Splinter truthfully wasn't interested in the whys of it all…

Until Michelangelo chose to contact Draxum, and words like “brain damage” and “tumor” were thrown into the mix.

An entire day of testing yielded…varying results. They were able to rule out the scariest of options. No dark shadows were seen in the X-rays of his son’s beautifully brilliant brain, and no concerning squiggles were pointed out by the Hidden City doctors who studied the fast moving waves appearing on the EEG. It was all a bunch of nonsense to Splinter, but Donatello nodded like he agreed, when he was handed the papers over to inspect himself.

Everything was normal, physically.

That left the most difficult part of the day. Getting his son to speak to a psychiatrist—seriously, and without snarking back at every possible question he would eventually be asked.

Draxum had thankfully picked a good one. Briefing her beforehand on…everything. She seemed prepared for Purple’s special brand of cynicism. The sheep yokai was apparently at the top of her field.

A tentative diagnosis of “dissociative amnesia” had been given, along with a small number of pamphlets and printouts. The doctor had informed Splinter that certain treatments might improve Donatello’s situation, but no cure had been discovered for something like this.

They would just have to take things one day at a time. And they’d been doing so well. Almost like everything was back to normal.

Splinter had become very good at ignoring that pending feeling of dread in the pit of his stomach. He smiled at his sons every day onward, like nothing was wrong. And all of them, in return, began falling back into a more comfortable ease around each other. The stress had just been starting to loosen in Red’s shoulders and jaw. Orange was giving real, honest smiles again. And Blue was no longer a shadow around corners, hiding from Purple like a bomb he was scared to set off.

But the other shoe that had been the root of Splinter’s dread, finally dropped, and the rug was pulled from under their feet once more, violently, with no warning.

Even after they’d managed to calm Donatello down. There was no negotiating the terms of his reality, and he was stubbornly convinced that the world around him was fabricated. Without caring about the consequences, he refused to be civil towards any of them, treating them all like jesters in a play, where no one had the script.

The family’s usual process for dealing with Purple’s anger–letting him cool off alone in his lab until he collected his thoughts–was unfeasible this time around.

Splinter didn’t think he could ever forget the image of his son, turning the knife he held in his hands inwards, and threatening to end his own life.

No; leaving him alone was not an option.

Which led back to Splinter’s previously mentioned frayed nerves.

Four days into this new, stressful change, and his genius son was still managing to find creative ways to sneak past their watchful eyes. Six attempts, in total. Each time, caught with seconds to spare, and just as traumatic for everyone involved.

Raphael and Michelangelo at the moment, were going through their home, removing every sharp implement they could find. Anything that could possibly be used to “put an end to the loop” that Donatello was convinced he was stuck in.

While the two performed their important task, Blue and Splinter had the harder of the two jobs; watching Purple.

Splinter was currently sitting comfortably in his chair, but it was far from his usual level of relaxation. Despite plenty of bean bags to occupy, the twins were locked in a shoving match. For some reason, they were fighting over the single, smallest one they must’ve owned.

“If you don’t get out of my personal space, I swear to Oppenheimer you will regret it, Leonardo!”

“And I swear to Ryan Renolds, that I’ll shred all of your softest hoodies if you kick me in the nuts one more time!”

“That Barbenheimer joke doesn’t even make sense, you idiot, that was Ryan Gosling!”

“Who mentioned Barbie? I’m talking about Deadpool and Wolverine!”

“What does that movie have to do with anything?!”

“Fuck dude, what did I just say about nut shots!”

“Then get out of my kicking radius, and your non-existent nuts will be safe!”

“BOYS!”

Both his sons quickly pause their arguing, giving their father their undivided attention.

“Leonardo, go help your brothers.” Splinter demands. “I will watch Purple. He has not had a moment of free time from any of you in days, and it is clearly wearing on all of us.” Blue gives his father one of his patented unimpressed stare downs.

“No offense, Pops, but how is you watching him, any different than me?”

“Because I will sit in my chair, and Purple will scroll on his phone, and there will be quiet.” Splinter can’t stand the bickering any longer. He knows both his sons will benefit from this time apart. It’s just convincing Blue of that.

Donatello’s gaze is boring holes into the back of Leonardo’s head while his second oldest son matches Splinter’s scrutiny. The rat can see the need for some fresh air battling against Blue’s desire to stay close. But Leonardo is his sharpest son, and even he can admit that his constant presence has become too grating for his brother.

“You need to watch him like a hawk, Dad,” Leo glares at his twin out of the corner of his gaze, “sometimes you can get a little…distracted.”

The new projector, playing Splinter’s same old programs, flashes against the curtain hung on the wall. The volume is set to low, but Blue still looks pointedly between his father and the screen. Splinter doesn’t blame him for his concern, so he tries to put all the gravity he can into his tone, enough that when he does promise to stay vigilant, it seems to convince Blue to place his trust in him.

Purple stays quiet through the exchange, only breathing a sigh of relief once his brother is long past the threshold of the den. He looks ready to lean back into his hard won pillows, but Splinter realizes that Blue had something of a point. Donatello is positioned quite far from him, and he’s suddenly nervous about catching something in time.

“Purple, how about you come sit with me.” Splinter suggests it kindly but firmly, and with a smile– so his son can’t refuse. He pats the bit of cushion next to his legs, “I will honor my promise to leave you alone, but I would be much more relaxed if you were within my reach.”

His boy merely blinks at him, blank faced, and staring at the very spot that Splinter has just created for him.

It isn’t as though his recliner is small, even if Splinter himself is. Donatello had custom made it for him, after one too many complaints about his old brown one hurting his back. It practically swallows Splinter, but remains just stiff enough to provide plenty of support for his lower back. He could even lay sideways and still have some space to stretch.

Splinter recalls very clear memories of all his sons fighting for a spot by his side when they were younger. But it has been some time since those days…perhaps Donatello thinks he’s far too old for such a thing as sitting by his aging father. Yoshi remembers himself at eighteen, and shudders. He’s forever thankful that no matter how lacking his parenting skills might have been, that his boys are kinder to him than he ever was to his Jiji.

Donatello pulls at some invisible thread of his black leggings. Since this new alteration of his memories, Purple has taken to wearing more layers. It’s nearing fall, but not nearly cold enough for the large sweatshirt, black leggings AND socks that his son is currently donning.

Splinter just barely hears Purple murmur a jumbled, “Huh?”

Splinter catches some sort of emotion actively being suppressed behind the bewildered shock at his offer, but it’s hard to tell what it is. Over the years Splinter is ashamed to say, he has grown very bad at reading his own children. Especially Purple, who, if he was being honest, has always been very hard to decipher.

Splinter starts to think the offer will be rejected, when Purple finally climbs to his feet and ambles slowly over. The unknown emotion skittering at the edge of Donatello’s expression morphs into something closer to suspicion. This one easy to identify, especially when it practically drips from his next words.

“Trying to endear yourself to me won’t sway me into falling for your tricks.”

The barb is said just as unkindly as everything else Purple has thrown at his family these last few days. Splinter lets it slide off him like water. He knows his son would (probably) never speak to him like that if he wasn’t stuck in such a painfully clear mode of survival and uncertainty.

“Yes, yes.” He says, untroubled. “Come sit and I can finally lean my chair back.”

Donatello watches him the entire time as he cautiously settles into his spot. He yelps when Splinter grabs his ankles and pulls his son’s long (thin, still much too thin) legs across his lap. For an instant, Splinter freezes, growing worried he’s overstepped. The act had been done without a thought. It’s the way Purple has always liked to sit, finding it more comfortable than any other way. Donatello preferred to keep his distance. A deviation from his siblings, for sure.

Michelangelo would press as close as possible, two sides smushed together like a hug, only without the constricting limbs (though, if Orange were ever to fall asleep in Splinter’s chair, those too would eventually find their way to catching him in their hold).

Leonardo preferred to sit on the arm of his chair, never staying still for long enough to find a comfortable position. But when he slumbered, after a long night of binge watching Novela’s with Splinter–he would curl up, head in his father’s lap, limbs held tight to his body. Like he was afraid even that was asking for too much.

Raphael, his poor, eldest son, hadn’t sat with him in so long. Splinter could still remember a little turtle tot in red, climbing up and splaying out onto his lap when he needed a good cry–or just a moment of peace from his much too loud siblings. Sadly, it wasn’t long before his Red was too big, and his father too small to provide such a refuge. The last time Raphael needed consoling; after the Krang, Splinter had been forced to climb up onto his own son’s knees in order to reach and wipe away his tears.

In the few rare instances of Purple seeking out physical touch, this was all he would allow. Legs stretched over his father’s lap, but his upper body was always off limits. Pulled just far enough away from the threat of any sort of long term contact.

Splinter used to wonder if Purple was scared to ask for anything more, like Leonardo, or if he thought depriving himself of a comforting hug would make him seem stronger, like Raphael, or even the rare times when Michelangelo wished to appear more mature and refused to be comforted. Eventually, Splinter caught on to the truth. His son was asking for comfort, in his own unique way. He was content with the minimal amount of closeness, as long as he felt like he was able to dictate the terms.

But one thing Purple would always allow his father to do, was loop his fingers around his ankles. Trusting the grip would hold his legs in place and keep him stable. He once said the pressure was small enough that it wasn’t overwhelming, but strong enough that it could ground him when everything became too much.

Even now, the act of reaching out to pull his son’s long legs up had been so instinctive. When Splinter looks over and sees the uncertainty still on Purple’s face, he knows he’s pushed too far too quickly.

It’s a risky move, but he’s already pushed, and it’s something that never fails, not once since he’s discovered it.

Purple has always been the most ticklish of all his brothers. Another thing that never really helped his sensory issues. But Splinter long ago discovered that there was a particular spot, which could always earn him a giggle and a brighter smile.

Splinter grips the meat of Donatello’s right knee and jiggles it back and forth. The silly action seems to do the trick and knocks something loose in his son’s overwrought head. His gamble pays off spectacularly, and Splinter is overjoyed to see a small smile erase most of the uncertainty clouding Donatello’s face. It isn’t a full peal of laughter, but the wariness makes way for something softer, and the huff of air from his nose is just as rewarding as a full body laugh.

His boy rests his shoulder and head onto the cushioned back of the chair and Splinter presses the button that will lift up the leg rest, and recline them both into a more restful position.

After a few moments of quiet, Donatello slowly pulls his phone from the pocket of his hoodie. Even without looking directly at him, Splinter can feel his son watching and waiting for the reprimand he thinks will come. Instead, Splinter raises the volume of his show just loud enough for him to hear, but not enough to completely shatter their peace. He wants to make Purple feel more at ease; like he’s not being constantly surveilled–not providing more overstimulation.

They sit like that for some time. Splinter rubs a thumb back and forth across the meatier part of Donatello's calves. He’s learned that repetitive touch is the best kind of grounding technique for Purple. The patterned motion always worked to calm his nerves.

Even still, after only so long Splinter catches Purple lowering his phone.

He keeps his own gaze forward, locked on his commercials. Splinter can see, without looking, that his son is studying him, trying to take apart something in his mind that he doesn’t understand. Splinter allows him all the time he needs to gather his thoughts.

Finally Purple speaks, “Dad…?” It’s so quiet, if Splinter hadn't been waiting for it, he might’ve missed it.

He pauses the repetitive kneading for just a moment, squeezing his hold, and humming in order to prompt his son to continue his thought.

“Can I tell you something?” The inquiry is whispered to him so delicately. It takes everything in him to keep his face open and soft and his movements steady. It’s clear that Donatello is trying his best to remain aloof, but his gaze is locked on his hands that are settled in his lap, the fingers of one pulling on the digits from his other.

At some point he must’ve put his phone completely away. Splinter feels the pressure of having Donatello's complete focus aimed at him.

The tugging intensifies. Splinter wonders if he should reach out, but he’s not sure how well that would be received. It doesn’t look painful just yet.

“I don't know what Kendra is accomplishing by showing me this.” Donatello growls, suddenly digging his palms into his eyes like he can still feel the weight of the screen blocking his vision. “Trying to make me happy, only to rip it all away from me? Or attempting to make me feel, even more like a useless burden than I was?”

It’s the first crack in his armor that Purple has shown in days. A clear sign that he was not as unaffected by Kendra’s lies as he’d been trying to project. Donatello sighs, but as it dies out Splinter thinks it sounds closer to a sob.

“You can’t tell the others…” Donatello looks at him with wet, desperate eyes, and it’s unclear if his son still doubts who he’s speaking to, but Splinter works to ease his fears all the same.

“I swear, whatever you tell me will remain between us, alone.”

Donatello nods faintly, eyes trailing downwards once more. Splinter may have had trouble before, but now the many emotions jumping across his son’s face—fear, shame, frustration, all are easy to catch.

With a shaking breath he whispers his secret. “I lied.” He’s crying now, real tears that he doesn’t even bother to wipe away. The pulling at his skin grows more violent, and Splinter finally interferes to carefully pry Donatello’s hands apart before damage is done. In place he cradles his son’s hands like delicate porcelain and runs a thumb over Donatello’s palm.

“I told everyone that I could tell. That I wasn’t being fooled, but that’s not exactly true. The last few loops have…it’s been getting harder, and harder to remember things— how they really happened. Too much is…plausible.”

Splinter keeps silent. This confession has clearly been weighing on Donatello. He deserves to get it all out, and hopefully feel lighter for it. Even if Purple suspects the family, something is letting Donatello open up enough for him to share his fears.

“There was one loop…Mikey broke…he broke the remote…When I said I didn’t have time to fix it. He threw the pieces at my head. He would never do that, though…right?”

“No, of course not,” Splinter answers immediately, quick to banish the doubt from his son’s mind. Donatello only blinks at him, like his thoughts are moving too slow, and cannot comprehend such a simple, stark contradiction to what he experienced.

“It felt so real…it all feels so real. But…I could feel how one of the sharp, broken corners had cut through my mask and how the wet fabric stuck to my skin with blood.”

Donatello raises a hand and touches the spot where the phantom wound must’ve sat. The pain now gone, but the memory of it haunts his eyes and rattles the tremors building in his hands.

“I thought…I thought I was handling this—maybe not well…But I’d hoped I would be strong enough to last until you all came for me…And now Raph is saying it’s already over.”

It’s a simplified form of the truth which they had tried to get Purple to believe, but even that much clearly doesn’t sit well with him. “If it is over, why does my body feel like one massive bruise? How did you all find me? How long did I last? Was I in there long enough to…?”

He’s clearly scared to ask Splinter any more questions, so he trails off, curling in on himself and pulling his hands up to his chest, pressing there, as if checking to make sure he feels something still beating.

Splinter decides he’s waited long enough and slowly pulls Donatello out of his hunched ball and guides his head to his own chest, making sure his ear is aligned against his own pulsing heartbeat.

Donatello resists slightly at first, but the moment he’s close enough to catch the sound, his breath catches and he glues himself to the spot.

“I don’t want to be there anymore,” Purple murmurs. It sounds like sleep is catching up with his son, the exhaustion pulling him down and slurring his words.

Splinter cups the back of Donatello’s head and carefully tug his fur lined blanket down from where it’s been sitting on the back of his chair. The blanket slots over the both of them and Donatello curls even closer to his father, tucking himself into his warmth.

“Go to sleep, when you wake up, you will be right here.” He’s sure to say it softly but with as much reassurance as possible, and Donatello seems too tired at this point to hold onto his doubts.

“Okay…,” Donatello mutters. Then, practically hanging on to the waking world for one final query hesitantly asks, “…Dad?…Do you love me?”

Splinter doesn’t even think. “Of course, my son.”

Donatello’s breathing finally evens out, and Splinter feels a few tears finally escape.

He’s not sure what next steps they should take, or what kind of state his son will be in when he wakes, but Splinter can only hope this is progress. He prays it won’t be undone…but regardless, Donatello is home. Any steps back or forward will be taken together, and that is the most important part.

#kendratello au #rise of the tmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rise donnie #rise splinter #rise leo #tw brainwashing #slushie writes

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navybrat817 · 10 months ago

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Indulgence

Pairing: Dom!Bucky Barnes x Sub!Female Reader Summary: When Bucky calls, you go to him. Word Count: Over 5.7k Warnings: Explicit sexual content, unprotected vaginal sex, D/s elements, bondage, aftercare, established arrangement, insecurities, pet names, longing, possessive behavior, world building, mix of canon and non-canon, slight feels (it's me, okay?), Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?). A/N: I'm very excited for this new AU, lovelies! There's a deep bond between these two, but we know the road to love isn't always easy. ❤️Beta read by the amazing @whisperlullaby, but any and all mistakes are my own. And thanks to @targaryenvampireslayer for listening to me ramble about this part. Divider by the talented @firefly-graphics. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

You had only been asleep for an hour when your phone went off, your eyes barely open as you reached for the device and saw the familiar name appear. “Bucky?” You answered drowsily.

“Hey, angel,” he said roughly, the pet name bringing a sleepy smile to your face. It sounded like he hadn't gotten much sleep either. “I’m sorry I woke you up.”

“It’s okay. I have tomorrow off,” you said, a bit more alert as you sat up. “Are you at your apartment?”

“Yeah, I got back a bit ago,” he replied, swearing under his breath. “It’s really late. I just…”

“Need me,” you finished for him, stretching your back as you stood up. If he wanted to tell you he made it home safely from his latest assignment, he would've sent you a text. You knew by now that a call meant he had to see you in person. “Give me a few minutes?”

“You sure? I understand if you’d rather go back to bed.”

“I’m not going to get any sleep until I know you will, too,” you said. It would drive you crazy. “I want to come over. Okay?”

You wondered if the call dropped since you didn't hear anything on the other end. “Okay. I’ll send a car,” he said. He never let you pay for a ride yourself. “Thank you,” he added so softly you almost missed it.

“You don't need to thank me,” you assured him, though you appreciated hearing it. “I’ll see you soon.”

“I’ll be waiting,” he promised, your heart skipping a beat before he hung up.

You brushed your teeth again before you changed out of your pajamas. The outfit didn't exactly matter. If it had, he would’ve told you what you wear. It wouldn't stay on long anyway. You sensed that this was a night for him to simply blow off some steam or release anything still pent up from his assignment.

You were more than happy to help.

“On my way.” You messaged him a few minutes later as you went out to the car.

You politely greeted the driver before gazing out the window. If anyone had told you months ago that you’d be sleeping with the former Winter Soldier, you would’ve laughed at them for saying something so crazy. You never expected to meet the man, let alone connect with him. That was your life now though. You were sleeping with Bucky Barnes.

But it wasn't that cut and dry.

“I’ll be outside.” He sent back.

You smiled to yourself as you thought about Bucky, the man searching for himself again. After years of enduring horrific pain and having no control over his actions, he felt lost once he was free. In his eyes, he would never be able to right all the wrongs of the atrocities he was forced to commit, but making amends for his past was a start. It wasn't enough though to heal the cracks from within. It couldn't stop him from plunging into the deep abyss of his mind where it once felt whole.

He had to find a way to feel semi-normal again. He needed to do something good for someone else outside of his heroic duties. And he had to do so in an environment where he could express himself openly, honestly, and authentically with a person he could trust.

That was where you came into the picture.

If Bucky called, no matter what time of day and you were available, you went to his place in a car he paid for. You stayed until you were both satisfied. A more crude way to think of it was that you helped him fuck out his frustrations and gave him a means to inflict pleasure on someone instead of hurt. It was a routine you were used to by now.

“You wanna be my angel?”

You may be his angel, but you weren't his girlfriend. He wasn't in a place to have a typical relationship. You weren't just a fuck buddy either. You were his submissive of sorts, along with his confidant and a way for him to find release and some sense of normalcy.

While he sometimes fucked you like a whore, he never once treated you like one. He cared for your well-being and checked in on you the way a boyfriend would. He kept his place stocked with your favorite snacks. You didn't sleep with anyone else and neither did he. You looked out for each other.

Unlike your last boyfriend.

As far as arrangements went, you could do much worse. There were rules set in place. Bucky was honest about his needs and helped you heal your wounds from the failure of your previous relationship. But the more time you spent with him, the more you wanted to be with him.

Was it a recipe for disaster?

The drive seemed faster than usual because before you knew it the car stopped in front of Bucky’s apartment building. Your pulse quickened when you saw the brunette standing by the door, donned in his usual leather jacket. Even from a short distance, he looked massive and heat bloomed in your core as you knew what was to come. He moved to the curb with more grace than a man his size should have, his hard blue eyes set on you through the glass before he opened the door.

His gaze practically set your heart on fire and it went full ablaze when he tenderly smiled. He was stunningly beautiful even in the dark of night. It almost hurt to look back at him.

You had it bad.

“Hey,” he said, offering you his gloved hand to help you out. You hardly ever saw him out without his vibranium hand covered. “It’s good to see you.”

“Hey,” you smiled softly, giving the driver a quick thanks before you got out. “You, too.”

Bucky's large hand moved to the small of your back as he gently led you toward the building and opened the door. He didn't like to linger outside for too long. Neither of you spoke as he guided you to his apartment on the first floor and you didn't push him to make small talk. It was a delicate arrangement and some nights didn't call for filler.

Still, you tried to get a read on his emotions. There was a stiffness to his stance, but he didn't appear upset or angry. You also didn’t spot any obvious injuries.

“Were you hurt?” You asked as he took his keys out. He was only gone for a couple of days, but you knew how dangerous the missions were.

He turned and stared at you, not at all surprised by your question since you always asked. “No, I didn’t get hurt,” he assured you, reaching up to scratch at the stubble on his chin. “But I can't exactly talk about it either. I’m sorry.”

You nodded in understanding. It was information you weren't privy to and you doubted he called tonight to talk about it anyway. He peeled back layers of himself, yet there was so much underneath that you didn't know about. You cared for him regardless.

“Bucky, you don't have to apologize for that,” you reminded him.

“I just feel bad. You can tell me about your work, but I can't always talk about mine,” he said, looking both ways before he poked his head into his apartment.

“My job isn’t as ‘exciting’ as yours,” you teased before he let you in.

Bucky had a nice place. The partially exposed brick walls paired well with the hardwood floors. Tasteful, but not extravagant. The thick curtains in the living room matched the drapes in his bedroom. Since he occasionally slept on the floor by the oversized chair, it helped to block out the sun. He didn't have much as far as decor, but he did have a piece of art that his best friend, Steve, drew hung up in the hall.

He also had a bowl that you made on the console to hold his keys, which he promptly set them in.

It meant something that he even let you into his apartment when others close to him had never been invited.

“Need anything to drink?” He asked, slipping his jacket and glove off.

He had an empty glass waiting on the kitchen island in case you did. While you indulged in a drink now and then, he wouldn't allow you to have too many. He refused to have sex with you if you were inebriated. Said it took consent away and you wouldn't be alert enough to use a safeword if necessary.

He wouldn't budge on that rule.

“No, thanks,” you answered, gazing at him.

His T-shirt strained against his biceps, one flesh and one vibranium. You could still smell his cologne from the small distance across the room, amber and cedarwood. Warm, comforting, dominating. All the things he was to you.

Not the monster he sometimes believed himself to be.

You eyed him as he poured himself a shot of whiskey, the need to soothe him coming forward when you caught a distant look in his eyes. He didn't even make a move to down his drink as he set his hands on the counter and stared off. Maybe he couldn't give you the details about what happened, but you could take care of him.

Because as much as he sometimes had to have control over you, both of you had power in your relationship.

“Bucky?” You gently called out, pulling him from his trance. “You can talk to me, even if you have to keep some things to yourself.”

His shoulders dropped as he sighed. “Three months.”

“I'm sorry?”

“Three months since we started this,” he answered.

You realized he was right when you remembered the date. It felt longer yet still brand new. “Yeah. Three great months,” you smiled.

A knot formed in your stomach when he didn't smile back. “And you still feel safe with me?” He asked, gripping the counter so hard you thought it might crumble in his hands. “You really trust that I won’t hurt you?”

Your smile slipped, the questions like a punch to the gut as you walked toward him. You stopped a foot in front of him to give him some breathing room as he made eye contact. Where had that come from? What happened to make him question that?

“Of course, I feel safe. Not only do I feel safe with you and trust you, I know that you won't hurt me. You will always take care of me,” you said with fierce determination, yet with a vulnerability you couldn't hide. “If I didn't believe that, I wouldn’t be here and I wouldn’t submit to you.”

You told him the same thing the day you two agreed on this arrangement. He wasn't your boyfriend, but he wasn't like your ex. He wouldn't just throw you away without a second thought or ignore your needs. You also had faith in him that he wouldn't harm you.

And as much as you trusted him, he trusted you that much more. If he didn't, he wouldn't have called you in the first place. That meant he still trusted himself around you.

He looked away and asked above a whisper, “Do you still think I'm a good man?”

“Yes,” you replied without hesitation, your heart aching when his jaw clenched. “Bucky, look at me, please.”

He slowly made eye contact with you, a storm swirling in his stare.

“You are a good man,” you stated, needing to reach the part of him that believed it. “And it doesn't matter how many times you ask me that, my answer isn't going to change. Ever.”

Bucky was silent, his breathing the only sound in the space. You were worried that you said the wrong thing before he pushed himself away from the counter. Instead of moving back when he approached, you stood firm, ready to brace the storm. You sometimes felt like a mouse confronted by a lion when he got close, but it sent a thrill through you. Because you meant what you said.

You trusted him and he made you feel safe.

“I just had to hear you say it,” he whispered as he cupped your face.

A fire lit within you as Bucky captured your mouth with his. There was care and tenderness beneath the hunger and you found yourself clinging to his arms as you kissed him back. No one before him had ever kissed you with such desire, such passion. It had you chasing his lips when he pulled away too soon.

“Now go to my room, get undressed, and kneel on the bed facing the headboard,” he ordered, his voice low and allowing the words to sink in just in case you had any objections. Because he was done talking and ready to play.

So were you.

It took you a moment to answer since you had to bite back a whine. “Yes, Sir,” you whispered, feeling his eyes on you as you walked to his bedroom.

You focused on keeping your breathing even as you shed your clothes, taking a moment to fold them before you set them on the chair in the corner. The only time you left your garments on the floor was if Bucky put them there or had you put on a show for him. It was his space and you respected it.

He hadn't told you how long to wait for him, but your heart thumped as you knelt on the queen sized bed. You didn’t see any toys as you glanced around, but there was water, snacks, wipes, and the soft blanket you loved waiting on the nightstand. It took a moment for you to spot that there was a blindfold and scarf on top of the blanket. Your womb clenched in anticipation, an exquisite feeling knowing your patience and obedience would reward you.

Bucky walked through the door a minute later and shut it behind him. The energy shifted completely, both of you ready for each other. As much as you wanted to lift your gaze and look behind you, you kept your eyes downcast as he approached the bed. He cupped your cheek once he was close enough and forced your eyes to meet his.

“My beautiful angel,” he whispered, brushing his thumb along your skin as you glowed from the praise. He reached for the scarf and ran his fingers across the silk as he glanced at you. “As much as I hate to cover those beautiful eyes of yours and restrain you, I want you to concentrate on my touch tonight. Just let me have you.”

A shiver rolled down your spine as you nodded. “Yes, Sir.”

“Hands behind your back,” he said, moving to secure them once you did so. The silk was soft against your skin, almost as soft as the kiss to your shoulder. After years of being restrained, you knew he felt guilty at times taking your control away. The difference was you gave yourself to him willingly. “Tell me your safewords.”

“Green is good. Yellow to pause,” you stated, testing the scarf. He never bound you too tight, but it was enough that you couldn’t slip your wrists free. “Red to stop."

“Good girl,” he praised, pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth. You turned your head a fraction so he could slot his lips properly over yours. Gentle, yet hot enough to melt your insides. “My good girl.”

He maneuvered you so you were in the middle of the bed and spread your knees a bit further apart. He joined you on his knees, still fully clothed. Casting your gaze down again, you bit your lip when you saw the prominent bulge in his pants. A hand came up to grasp your chin before you could stare for too long and lifted your head. If you were still wearing your panties, they would’ve dampened from his darkened gaze.

“So beautiful and all mine tonight,” he said.

“I’m yours, Sir,” you whispered, the word “always” unspoken.

“And I know you were staring,” he smirked, his fingers working the button and zipper of his jeans. His impressive cock sprang free once he pushed his underwear and pants down far enough and you wished you could lean down and swirl your tongue around the large head. “Greedy angel. Just desperate to have my cock in you.”

“Yes, Sir. Please,” you begged.

He made a show of lifting the blindfold before he slipped it over your head, your body tensing up when your world went dark. Sight was one of the senses you relied on the most. It helped you absorb most of the world around you. And now it was temporarily gone. It felt like your heart would burst from your chest as you breathed a bit heavier. But Bucky was there, softly touching your face until you relaxed.

“Breathe, angel. I’ve got you,” he whispered, drawing a gasp from you when his lips touched yours. His hands mapped your body, brushing along your breasts down to your thighs. You felt him everywhere. “Color?”

“Green,” you whispered as a hand moved around your back and forced you to arch. He was careful not to hurt your arms. “Please.”

Your head fell back with a moan as his lips closed around your nipple. You could practically feel that he looked up at you as he gently suckled. A wave of arousal crashed through you as he pinched the other. No one had ever lavished your body with such attention the way Bucky did.

“I love seeing you like this,” he murmured against the swell of your breast. “Helpless. Trembling. Needy.”

You didn't mean to let such a wanton moan escape, but he made you feel needed. He made you feel wanted. It was a beautiful thing to surrender to him.

“And I love that I'm the one you trust to take care of you.”

“I trust you with my life, Sir,” you moaned.

And your heart, even though he had the power to break it.

Your chest suddenly felt colder when Bucky pulled his mouth and hand away and you shook from the loss of his heat. His vibranium hand touched your torso to remind you he was close when he shifted closer to you on the bed. You gasped when he dragged his hand down and you were helpless to do anything but feel when it slid between your legs.

“You're doing so well for me,” he said, his teeth grazing your neck as his fingers spread your sopping folds. He teased you, letting you soak his metal fingers as you mewled. He lightly bit you again when he replaced his fingers with his cock, sliding along your slit, but not pushing inside you just yet. “You want me inside you? You need me to fuck you, don't you? Tell me.”

Your cheeks flamed as you whined. “I need you to fuck me, Sir,” you said, trying to widen your thighs to take him in more.

“I will. I'm going to give you everything you need,” he rumbled, gripping your hips with strong and capable hands to keep you still. “And you’re going to let me ruin your pretty little pussy with my cock.”

You panted with want at his possessiveness. Filthy words were something you never thought you’d hear from someone associated with The Avengers and they kicked your body into overdrive. You ached to have him split you open. “Ruin me, Sir.”

In one swift move he lifted you, pulled you into his lap, and buried himself to the hilt. Your mouth fell open as you let out a cry, every inch of his cock stretching and making itself at home in your welcoming cunt. You couldn't brace yourself on his shoulders with your hands behind your back. You couldn't see the ecstasy in his eyes as he let you adjust to his size, but you didn't have to. Not with the way he dug his fingers in and groaned against your shoulder.

He took you to heaven when he was inside you.

“Color,” he said against your skin, thrusting his hips up once.

“Green,” you moaned, reminding yourself to stay still when you wanted him to move. “So green.”

“Good girl,” he whispered, gently kissing up to your ear. “Keep being good while I bounce you up and down on my cock.”

Your eyes fluttered behind the blindfold as he pulled you up and slammed you back down on his cock. Your tongue felt heavy in your mouth and your heart beat frantically in your chest. It was difficult to string thoughts together, but they all went back to him and how good he made you feel. How he made you feel beautiful.

Flaws and all.

“It’s like your cunt was made for me, angel. Practically crying all over my cock,” his voice was smoky as sounds of pleasure tumbling from your lips. The next moan was softer when he slid a hand up to your neck, resting it there as the other kept your hips flush against his. “You deserve to feel good because you are good. So fucking good.”

Your lower lip trembled as a sob worked its way to your throat, “Thank you, Sir,” you whimpered before he squeezed.

“And I. Deserve. You.” He punctuated each word with a deep thrust. You didn’t have to see his face to know the fury that surfaced. “My angel. Mine.”

It overwhelmed you as he bounced you in his lap, sinking you down onto him again and again. His thrusts were almost unforgiving, but the hand on your throat didn’t tighten anymore. He couldn’t hurt you. He wouldn’t hurt you.

“I’m your angel, Sir,” you moaned as he reduced you to a needy wet mess.

“I wanna tear you apart,” he growled against your lips. “And put you back together so you still feel me when you fucking breathe.”

“Tear me apart, Sir,” you gasped, a plea for him to use you more. Your thighs hit his as he thrust up and all you could do was take it. He touched places inside you no one else could reach, physically and emotionally, and you never wanted it to stop. “Please!”

“Tell me you need me to come inside you and I’ll let you come,” he ordered, the hand on your neck squeezing a fraction. “Say it.”

“Come inside me, Sir,” you begged.

“Bucky,” he breathed against your lips. “Say. My. Name.”

Your next breath was shaky. He always had you call him “Sir” on nights like this. Why was this different?

Your orgasm began to crest, but you couldn’t let go until you gave him what he wanted. And he’d give you what you needed. “Come inside me, Bucky,” you exhaled. “Please.”

He swiped his thumb along your pulse with a deep groan, his cock still driving up into you. “I will after you come,” he promised, his tongue sliding past your parted lips and pulling away all too quickly. “C’mon, angel. Come for me. Show me you’re mine.”

The sob you tampered down earlier resuraced, wrenched from your throat as you came. Your release continued, practically leaking around his cock as tears slid out beneath the blindfold. You were beyond rational thought as pleasure spiraled through you, vaguely aware that he thrust through it to chase his own end.

“Good. Fucking. Girl.” He grunted, pulsing hotly inside you as he filled you up.

Both of you panted as you continued to drift from euphoria, your heart still beating wildly. You were warm, but your body shivered as he lifted you up. Your combined release slid from your aching cunt once he slipped free. You floated and wanted him to catch you, but you couldn’t put your arms around him.

“I’ve got you,” he whispered when you let out a whimper. He made quick work of untying your wrists so he could lay you down properly and wipe away the tears still on your cheeks. “I’m going to take the blindfold off.”

Your eyes stayed shut for a moment when Bucky removed it, but you cracked them open when you wanted to see him. Your vision slowly cleared as you blinked a few times, your mind still floating as he came into view. He called you an angel, but he was the one who had a halo around his head at the moment. A gorgeous angel who had unrightfully had his wings taken away. He smiled like he wanted to eat you alive, but his touch was nothing short of tender when he brought his hand to your face.

“So fucking beautiful. You did so well for me. Fuck, I just wanna clean you with my tongue and fill you up all over again,” he praised as you clenched around nothing and whined. As hot as it sounded, you needed a bit of rest after that. “Not tonight,” he smiled, keeping a hand on you as he grabbed a wipe.

A reason he had everything close by was because you craved his touch after sex. If he ever got too far away, you whimpered and reached for him. It made you feel needy, but he assured you that he needed to keep touching you just as badly.

It just wasn’t fair that he looked so composed.

Bucky continued to shower you with soft praise as he cleaned you up. It didn’t take him long before he wrapped the soft blanket around you, trembles moved through your entire body as he put his arms around you, too. He took aftercare very seriously. It was a way for you to feel cared for and nurtured while allowing your body and brain to return back to normal. He never wanted you to experience negativity or sadness after any sort of session, especially an intense one.

You were aware that he moved you closer in his arms and rested his cheek against the top of your head, but you weren't ready to speak yet. It always took you a minute to come back to yourself and he was never one to rush or push you. If relaxing in his embrace was what it took to return to the world, he was more than content to keep you in his arms.

At least, that was what he told you.

You opened your eyes after a few minutes. Your heartbeat was back to a steady rhythm, but you still weren't ready to move yet. You were warm and safe. Bucky was there to take care of you. But what about him?

Had you taken care of him?

Bucky had a faint smile on his face when you lifted your head, his shoulders relaxed and eyes soft. Like he was at ease with everything around him. “Welcome back, angel,” he whispered, peppering your face with light kisses.

“Hey,” you smiled tiredly, your voice a little hoarse as you brought a hand to his hair, happy that you could touch him again. Judging by the way his eyes slipped shut for a moment before he opened them, he missed your touch, too.

“You okay?”

“I am and so are you. You're okay.” It wasn't a question. Whatever haunted him earlier was gone.

For now.

He didn't tear his gaze away as he reached for the water behind him, which you gratefully accepted as he put it to your lips. “You amaze me, you know? You just came back to yourself, but you're talking about me being okay.”

“Isn’t that why you call me?” You asked with a small frown, taking another large sip. “To help you?”

His brows furrowed. “It’s not just about me. This is about you, too.”

You took one more drink before you could say something stupid. Yes, this was about you, too. How he didn't push too far. How he’d hold you after sex and talk with you because those things were important to you. How he made you feel cherished and wanted for a short while.

You just didn't want to admit that he was a constant in your mind. But would it be so wrong if you did? Even if he’d never date you, didn't he have a right to know how you felt?

Communication was key and you would have to eventually tell him if those feelings persisted.

“It’s about both of us and I just want you to be okay,” is what you said because it was the truth.

He set the water aside and cupped your cheek, his calloused hand a little cool, but nice. You almost wished you could hide from his knowing eyes, but he didn’t press you for more. “I am now,” he said, swallowing a little. “I just couldn't let you see me tonight.”

Worry filled his eyes like he may have upset you, but you shook your head. You had seen his scars, but he was never obligated to show you his body. “You're letting me see you now,” you said, scooting closer as he brought your wrist to his mouth to kiss it.

You thought about how the evening played out. How he asked if you thought he was a good man. How he demanded that you speak his name. And how he said he deserved you. Either something happened while he was gone or someone said or did something to get to him. You wished you knew what it was since he didn’t expand on what had been eating away at him before.

“And before you ask, you didn't hurt me,” you told him, knowing the question was coming. You appreciated that he cared enough to check.

He pressed a kiss to your temple. “Good because I’d never stop hating myself if I did,” he admitted, looking at the ceiling for a moment. “You don't deserve that kind of pain.”

Your heart swelled, not letting any past hurt enter your mind. He made you believe that you deserved better than what you had. It was a good feeling.

“Neither do you. And that's a reason why safewords exist. Both of us can use them,” you reminded him. Like aftercare, he took the words seriously. He listened to you. And if he ever got overwhelmed, he had every right to stop it the same way you did. “So no self-hate tonight.”

He huffed in mock annoyance. “Yes, ma’am. And speaking of self-hate,” he teased, tilting his head to look your way. “I really don’t want to go to therapy tomorrow.”

There was a forced calmness in his blue eyes as you assessed him. “You still don’t like your therapist,” you stated.

One of the conditions of his pardon was that he had to go to therapy. It was meant to help him process his thoughts and past experiences in order to work through them. Though he didn’t tell you what went on in his sessions as it was none of your business, he didn’t keep it a secret from you that the doctor was far from his favorite person.

You wondered if Bucky told her about you.

“What’s there to like?” He asked.

You smiled a little, knowing better than to poke the bear and say she probably wasn't that bad. “Well, being able to speak to someone who provides non-judgemental and empathetic support is one thing.”

“That’s why I like talking to you,” he said, the affection in his voice making your heart skip a beat.

“Oh,” you said, not sure what else to say.

Moments like that made you think he cared. No, that wasn’t right. You knew he cared about you. But hearing things like that made you feel like there was hope for more and he wasn’t ready for that.

Hope was both a wonderful and dangerous thing.

“Have you met anyone else?” He asked suddenly, moving his hand to your back.

It was a question Bucky asked every time he had you over. He said from the start if there was another man in your life that you’d rather be with, someone who could offer you more, he’d step aside. There wasn't anyone else. You didn't want anyone else.

And while it was admirable that he would walk away if that ever changed, your heart ached at the thought that he’d easily let you go. Because at the end of the day he wasn't ready for a relationship. Not yet.

Even if he was, who said he wanted one with you?

“No, I haven't met anyone,” you said, feeling the warm breath of his exhale against your skin as his hand moved up and down your back. It relaxed you more and you found yourself fighting a yawn. “Have you?”

“No,” he chuckled. The crinkles by his eyes made him look carefree. “Not since you saved me.”

You shut your eyes, afraid that tears would well up if you looked at him. “I didn't save you. All I did was buy you a coffee one afternoon,” you whispered dismissively.

That day changed your life.

“I’m going to let that slide since you're sleepy, but I’m going to remind you when you're wide awake that you did a lot more than that,” he spoke. He held you a little tighter when you stayed quiet. You were more tired than you thought. “Get some sleep, angel. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

You let your eyes shut at his command. “Thank you for taking care of me, Bucky.”

“Thank you for taking a chance on me.”

There was something else unspoken in the air, but a tender kiss to your forehead stopped you from reading too deeply into it.

In the morning, he’d send you back to your place after he made you breakfast. He’d text you later to make sure you were okay. He would continue to check in and you would do your best not to fall for him more. Because one day he wouldn't need you anymore. You didn't know when that day would come, but tonight you could indulge in the fantasy that Bucky wanted you to be his girl.

Permanently.

I just want these two happy and together. Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

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driverlando · 2 months ago

Text

✧.* AFTER HOURS

synopsis - I'll risk it all for you, I want you next to me

before you continue: I’ve been working on this for the past month, so pls be nice! It’s a 6k-word bad boy/biker Lando x waitress (f!reader) set in the 50s. there’s a mix of romance, tension, and some smut (minors DNI!). excited to hear your thoughts—enjoy! xx

The neon sign above the diner hums softly, its pink and blue lights flickering in the darkened night like a beacon. It’s the only thing that seems alive at this hour, casting a soft glow on the otherwise empty street. You’ve been working at this place for a while now, long enough that the rhythms of the night shift feel second nature. The jukebox in the corner has long since stopped playing, the last notes of Elvis Presley’s latest hit fading into the air. The diner is quiet, save for the occasional clink of dishes in the back or the low murmur of conversation from the last remaining patrons—a couple of old men nursing their black coffees.

You glance at the clock above the door, a wave of relief washing over you as you see it’s nearly the end of your shift. All you want is to get out of this uniform, go home, and maybe catch some sleep before the morning light creeps through your curtains. The night has a chill to it, the kind that seeps into your bones, reminding you that summer is fading fast.

The bell above the door jingles, and despite yourself, your heart skips a beat. You don’t even need to look up to know who it is; you can feel his presence like a shadow that lingers just out of sight. Lando Norris. The town’s resident bad boy, the one all the girls whisper about and the one your mother warned you to stay away from. He’s trouble in every sense of the word, and yet, you find it impossible to ignore the way the air seems to crackle when he’s around.

He’s been coming in every night for the past few weeks, always showing up right before your shift ends. You’ve tried not to pay him any mind, but it’s hard when he looks at you the way he does, with that cocky smirk that makes your stomach twist and your heart race.

Tonight, he’s wearing that same leather jacket, the one that makes him look even more dangerous. His hair is tousled, damp from the cool night air, and there’s a hint of rain on his skin. He strides in like he owns the place, but his eyes are on you the moment he steps through the door.

“Hey, doll,” he greets, his voice smooth, with that hint of something playful and teasing that always makes you bite back a smile.

“Lando,” you acknowledge, keeping your tone even as you wipe down the counter one last time. “You’re here late.”

He shrugs, sliding onto the stool right in front of you, his gaze never leaving your face. “Couldn’t stay away.”

You roll your eyes, trying to ignore the way his words make your pulse quicken. “What’ll it be tonight?”

“Just a coffee,” he says, leaning back in his seat, the leather of his jacket creaking softly. “Unless you’ve got something a little more exciting to offer.”

You pour the coffee without responding, sliding the cup across the counter to him. “This is as exciting as it gets.”

He chuckles, taking the cup and lifting it to his lips. “You say that every time, sweetheart, but I know there’s more to you than you’re letting on.”

You ignore his comment, focusing instead on finishing up your closing tasks. But you can feel his eyes on you, the weight of his gaze almost tangible. It’s not the first time you’ve felt it, and it won’t be the last, but tonight it feels different. There’s an electricity in the air, something that makes your skin prickle and your heart beat just a little faster.

“Why do you keep coming here, Lando?” you ask, more to break the silence than anything else.

He sets his cup down, the smirk still playing on his lips. “Why do you think?”

You meet his gaze, trying to keep your expression neutral. “Because you’re bored?”

He shakes his head, leaning forward slightly, his eyes glinting in the dim light. “No, because I like seeing you. I like the way you pretend you’re not interested.”

Your breath catches in your throat, and for a moment, you don’t know what to say. You’ve been doing your best to keep your distance, to keep him at arm’s length, but he has a way of getting under your skin. Still, you can’t let him know that.

“My shift’s over,” you say, avoiding his eyes as you untie your apron and hang it up behind the counter. “You should go home.”

“So should you,” he says, his tone softening. “But not alone.”

You scoff, shaking your head as you grab your coat from the back. “I’m fine on my own, thanks.”

You don’t wait for his response, don’t even look back at him as you head for the door. You’ve made it clear that you’re not interested, even if that’s not entirely true. Lando is trouble, and you’ve worked too hard to stay out of it.

The cool night air hits you as soon as you step outside, the drizzle turning into a light mist that clings to your hair and clothes. The street is quiet, the only sound the distant hum of a car engine and the soft patter of rain on the pavement. You pull your coat tighter around yourself, your footsteps echoing in the stillness as you start walking down the street.

You’re halfway down the block when you hear it—the low, unmistakable rumble of a motorcycle engine. You don’t need to turn around to know who it is, but you do anyway, your heart sinking slightly as you see Lando pulling up beside you on his sleek black motorcycle. His head is tilted slightly, that ever-present smirk still on his lips as he coasts along the sidewalk at your pace.

“Need a ride?” he asks, his voice barely audible over the engine.

“No,” you reply curtly, picking up your pace. “I’m fine.”

“You sure?” he calls after you. “It’s a long walk home, and it’s starting to rain.”

You ignore him, determined to keep walking. You don’t want to give him the satisfaction of knowing he’s getting to you, even if he already knows. But Lando isn’t one to give up easily.

You hear the motorcycle rev slightly as he pulls ahead of you, cutting off your path. You stop abruptly, your breath catching in your throat as he swings off the bike with a fluid grace that makes your heart skip a beat. He steps in front of you, blocking your way, his eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that makes it hard to breathe.

“Come on, doll,” he says, his voice low and coaxing. “Let me take you home.”

You shake your head, taking a step back, but the look in his eyes holds you in place. There’s something about the way he’s looking at you, something that makes you want to give in, to let go of all the reasons why this is a bad idea.

“I don’t need your help,” you say, but your voice lacks conviction.

He steps closer, his hand reaching out to gently grasp your wrist. His touch is warm, sending a jolt of electricity up your arm. “I know you don’t need it,” he murmurs, his voice soft, almost tender. “But maybe you want it.”

You swallow hard, trying to ignore the way your heart is pounding in your chest. The rain is starting to fall heavier now, droplets clinging to his hair and sliding down his face. There’s a vulnerability in his eyes, something raw and unguarded that makes it impossible to look away.

“Why do you care?” you ask, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Because,” he says, his thumb brushing lightly over your wrist, “you’re not like the others. And I can’t stop thinking about you.”

You want to resist, to tell him to leave you alone, but the words get caught in your throat. You can’t deny the pull you feel toward him, the way he makes you feel alive in a way that nothing else does. And before you can talk yourself out of it, before you can remind yourself of all the reasons why this is a bad idea, you find yourself nodding.

“Okay,” you say softly.

A slow, almost relieved smile spreads across his face, and he steps back, releasing your wrist. He gestures to the bike, and you hesitate for only a second before stepping forward. The rain is coming down in earnest now, the drops heavy and cold against your skin as you approach the motorcycle.

He hands you the spare helmet, and you take it, slipping it over your head. The leather seat is slick with rain as you swing your leg over the bike, your hands instinctively gripping his jacket as you settle behind him. The engine purrs beneath you, the vibrations humming through your body as he revs it slightly.

“You ready?” he asks, turning his head slightly to glance back at you.

You nod, though he can’t see it with the helmet on. “Yeah.”

With that, he kicks the bike into gear, and you’re off, the motorcycle roaring down the empty street, the rain whipping against your face. You cling to him, your fingers digging into the leather of his jacket as the world blurs around you. The cold night air bites at your skin, but there’s a thrill in it, a sense of freedom that you’ve never felt before.

Lando takes the turns with an ease that speaks of years of experience, the bike leaning just enough to make your heart race. The town flashes by in a blur of lights and shadows, and before you know it, you’re out on the open road, the city behind you.

He doesn’t take you home. Instead, he heads out of town, the road stretching out in front of you, the rain-soaked asphalt glistening in the dim light. The fields on either side of you are dark and endless, the occasional hedgerow or tree flashing by as Lando speeds along the wet road. The sound of the engine is a steady roar in your ears, a low thrum that seems to match the rhythm of your heartbeat.

You should be worried—he hasn’t said a word about where he’s taking you, and you’ve barely known him long enough to trust him with something like this. But there’s something exhilarating about the way he handles the bike, the confidence in his every move, that makes you feel strangely safe despite the reckless speed. It’s as if, for the first time in ages, you’re letting yourself go, allowing the night and the rain and the thrill of the ride to sweep you away.

The rain falls harder now, soaking through your coat and plastering your hair to your face beneath the helmet. The chill seeps into your bones, but it’s dulled by the heat radiating from Lando’s back, the warmth of his body a stark contrast to the cold night air. You hold on tighter, pressing yourself closer to him as the bike hurtles down the road.

Finally, after what feels like both an eternity and no time at all, Lando begins to slow down. The road narrows, the trees growing thicker and closer together as you turn onto a smaller lane. The headlights cut through the darkness, revealing a small, secluded motel nestled at the edge of the woods. The sign above the door is old and faded, the neon flickering weakly, but the place looks clean and well-kept.

Lando pulls the bike into the gravel car park, coming to a stop near the entrance. The engine cuts off, leaving a ringing silence in its wake, broken only by the patter of rain on the pavement and the distant rustle of leaves in the wind. He dismounts first, holding the bike steady as you slide off the seat and remove your helmet.

You stand there for a moment, your heart still racing from the ride, the rain dripping off your clothes and pooling around your feet. You look at Lando, trying to gauge his expression, but his face is shadowed, unreadable in the dim light.

“Why here?” you ask, your voice barely above a whisper.

He doesn’t answer right away, just watches you with those intense eyes of his, like he’s trying to figure you out. Then, with a slight tilt of his head, he gestures towards the motel. “Come on. Let’s get out of the rain.”

You hesitate, every logical part of your brain screaming at you to turn around and walk away. This is dangerous—Lando is dangerous, with his easy charm and his reckless ways. You’ve worked hard to keep your life steady, predictable, and bringing him into it is like inviting chaos. But something holds you back, something that refuses to let you walk away.

Maybe it’s the way he looks at you, with that mix of mischief and something deeper, something almost vulnerable. Or maybe it’s the thrill of doing something you know you shouldn’t, the excitement of stepping outside the lines you’ve drawn for yourself. Whatever it is, it makes you follow him without another word, the two of you walking side by side towards the motel entrance.

The lobby is small and cosy, the kind of place that hasn’t changed much since it was built, probably a couple of decades ago. The man behind the counter barely glances up as Lando approaches, just slides a key across the counter with a bored expression. It’s clear he’s seen this kind of thing before—young couples looking for a place to escape for the night, away from prying eyes and small-town gossip.

You feel a flutter of nerves as Lando takes the key and leads you down a narrow hallway to one of the rooms. The door creaks slightly as he pushes it open, revealing a modest space with a double bed, a small table with a couple of chairs, and a dresser with a mirror above it. It’s not much, but it’s clean and dry, and after the cold rain outside, it feels almost inviting.

Lando steps inside first, holding the door open for you. You hesitate again, your mind racing with a thousand thoughts—about what you’re doing, what this means, what will happen next. But then you meet his eyes, and all those thoughts seem to scatter like leaves in the wind. There’s something in his gaze that’s both tender and intense, a look that makes your heart pound and your resolve crumble.

You step inside, and the door clicks shut behind you, sealing you both inside the small, warm room. The sound is final, like a decision being made, a line being crossed. Lando turns to face you, his expression unreadable as he watches you standing there, rain-soaked and shivering slightly in the dim light.

“Are you alright?” he asks, his voice low and gentle, a stark contrast to the way he usually speaks.

You nod, though you’re not entirely sure if it’s true. Your heart is racing, your mind a whirlwind of emotions—fear, excitement, anticipation—all tangled together in a way that makes it hard to breathe. But you don’t want to back out now, not after everything that’s led you here.

Lando steps closer, his hands coming up to gently brush your wet hair away from your face. His touch is warm and soft, a tenderness you hadn’t expected. His eyes search yours, as if looking for any sign of hesitation, any reason to stop.

“You don’t have to do this,” he says quietly, his fingers lingering on your cheek.

“I know,” you whisper, your voice trembling slightly. “But I want to.”

It’s the truth, or at least part of it. You’re scared, yes, but you’re also drawn to him in a way you can’t explain. There’s something about Lando that calls to the part of you that’s been buried for so long, the part that craves something more than the quiet, predictable life you’ve built for yourself.

He studies you for a moment longer, as if making sure you really mean it, then nods slightly. His hand slips down to yours, his fingers intertwining with yours as he leads you further into the room. There’s a gentleness in his movements, a care that surprises you, considering his usual devil-may-care attitude.

The rain drums steadily against the window, a constant rhythm that fills the silence between you. Lando’s hand leaves yours as he shrugs off his jacket, draping it over one of the chairs before turning his attention back to you. You feel a nervous flutter in your stomach as he steps closer, but it’s mingled with anticipation, a thrill that sends shivers down your spine.

His hands find your shoulders, sliding your coat off and letting it fall to the floor. You’re hyper-aware of every movement, every touch, the way his fingers brush against your skin as he helps you out of your wet clothes. There’s an intimacy to it, a quiet care that makes your breath catch in your throat.

You stand there in just your undergarments, the cold air of the room making you shiver, but Lando’s eyes are warm as they trail over you, his gaze filled with something you can’t quite name. He takes a step back, his hand reaching out to gently take yours again.

“Come here,” he murmurs, leading you towards the bed.

You follow him, your heart pounding in your chest, the reality of the situation hitting you all at once. This is happening. You’re here, with him, in a motel room in the middle of nowhere, about to cross a line you’ve never crossed before. But there’s no fear, only a deep sense of rightness, like this is where you’re meant to be, in this moment, with him.

Lando sits on the edge of the bed, pulling you gently towards him until you’re standing between his knees. His hands slide up your thighs, resting on your hips as he looks up at you, his eyes dark and full of emotion. He’s always been confident, always in control, but now there’s a vulnerability in his gaze, a quiet question he’s asking without words.

You answer by leaning down, your hands cupping his face as you press your lips to his. The kiss is soft at first, tentative, as if you’re both testing the waters. But it quickly deepens, a hunger igniting between you that has been simmering for weeks. His arms wrap around your waist, pulling you closer as he kisses you like he’s been waiting for this moment just as long as you have.

The world outside the room fades away, leaving only the two of you, tangled together in the heat of the moment. His hands are everywhere, exploring your body with a reverence that makes you feel cherished, like you’re something precious. It’s intense and overwhelming, but in the best possible way.

Time seems to lose meaning as you lose yourselves in each other, the night stretching out as if it were infinite. The rain outside creates a soothing, rhythmic backdrop to your passion, a comforting contrast to the fire burning between you.

Lando’s kisses are insistent, devouring, yet he moves with care, as if he’s memorising every inch of you. His touch, though firm, is never rough, always just right, and you melt into him, feeling like you’re discovering parts of yourself you never knew existed. You can feel the tension in his body, the way he holds himself back slightly, as though he’s afraid of rushing, afraid of breaking whatever fragile connection has formed between you.

Your fingers slide through his damp hair, tugging slightly, and a low groan escapes his lips. It sends a thrill through you, emboldening you to press closer, your body flush against his. He shifts, pulling you into his lap, your legs straddling his thighs as he tilts his head to deepen the kiss. The sensation of being held by him, feeling his strength beneath your touch, is intoxicating.

You break the kiss to catch your breath, your forehead resting against his. His breath comes in short, sharp bursts, his chest rising and falling against yours. He looks up at you, eyes dark with desire but softened by something more—something that makes your heart stutter in your chest.

“Are you sure?” he asks, his voice rough with restraint, the words a mere whisper in the small space between you.

You nod, not trusting your voice to convey the depth of your certainty. There’s no room for doubt in your mind. Being with him, here, now, feels like the most natural thing in the world, as if you’ve been waiting your whole life for this moment. For him.

He studies your face, searching for any sign of hesitation, but when he finds none, his expression shifts from questioning to resolute. His hands, which had been resting on your hips, slide up your back, pulling you even closer as he captures your lips again. This kiss is different, filled with the unspoken promise of what’s to come, a promise that you’re both eager to fulfil.

Without breaking the kiss, Lando shifts his weight, turning and laying you gently on the bed. The mattress dips under his weight as he hovers over you, his gaze never leaving yours. There’s a moment of stillness, a shared breath, and then he’s kissing you again, his hands roaming your body with a purpose that makes you shiver in anticipation.

Every touch, every caress, is like a match struck against stone, igniting a flame that consumes you both. He moves with a slow, deliberate pace, savouring each moment, each gasp and sigh that escapes your lips. It’s as if he wants to remember every second, to carve this night into his memory as something sacred.

The room is warm, the heat from your bodies chasing away the chill of the night. Your hands map out the contours of his muscles, the smooth lines of his body, as you pull him closer, wanting more of him, needing to feel him everywhere. He responds in kind, his lips trailing down your neck, over your collarbone, as if he’s worshipping every inch of you.

When he finally moves to remove the last barriers between you, there’s no hesitation, no second-guessing. It’s a natural progression, a culmination of everything that’s been building between you since the first time he walked into the diner and looked at you with those piercing eyes. There’s a shared understanding, an unspoken agreement that this is where you were always meant to end up—together.

The first moment of true connection is almost overwhelming in its intensity. It’s more than just physical; it’s as if every wall you’ve ever built around yourself crumbles in an instant, leaving you exposed, vulnerable, but not afraid. There’s no fear, only a deep, bone-deep sense of rightness, of finally finding the place where you belong.

Lando moves with a rhythm that’s both tender and powerful, each thrust sending waves of pleasure through you that build and build until you think you might shatter from the sheer force of it. His name falls from your lips like a prayer, a plea, and he answers with a low, guttural groan that reverberates through your entire being.

The world narrows down to the two of you, the feel of him inside you, the way he whispers your name like it’s the only thing that matters. Time loses all meaning as you’re swept away by the tidal wave of sensation, your bodies moving together in perfect harmony, a dance as old as time itself.

When the wave finally crashes over you, it’s with a force that leaves you breathless, clinging to him as the pleasure shudders through you, leaving you trembling in its wake. He follows soon after, his body tensing, his breath hot against your skin as he finds his own release. The feeling of him coming undone with you, because of you, is almost too much to bear.

For a long moment, neither of you moves, your bodies still entwined, chests heaving as you try to catch your breath. The only sounds are the rain tapping lightly against the window and the soft, shared breaths filling the space between you. Lando’s weight is comforting, grounding, and you don’t want him to move, don’t want this moment to end.

He lifts his head slightly, his eyes searching yours, as if he’s looking for reassurance that you’re still here with him, that this wasn’t some fleeting dream. You offer him a small, tired smile, your fingers brushing through his sweat-dampened hair.

“That was…” he starts, but trails off, seemingly at a loss for words.

You understand, though. You feel it too—this connection, this sense of something more between you. It’s more than just a one-time thing; it’s like you’ve found something precious, something you weren’t even sure you were looking for.

“Yeah,” you whisper, your voice soft but filled with conviction. “It was.”

He smiles then, a genuine smile that lights up his whole face, making him look almost boyish in his joy. It’s a smile that makes your heart skip a beat, that fills you with warmth and hope.

Lando rolls onto his side, pulling you with him so that you’re curled up against his chest. His arms wrap around you, holding you close as if he’s afraid you might disappear if he lets go. You can feel the steady thump of his heart beneath your cheek, a comforting rhythm that lulls you into a sense of peace.

For a while, you just lie there, basking in the afterglow, the silence between you comfortable and easy. The storm outside seems to have calmed, the rain now a gentle drizzle, almost soothing as it patters against the window.

But as the euphoria of the moment fades, reality starts to creep back in, bringing with it the questions and doubts that you’d managed to push aside in the heat of the moment. What happens now? What does this mean for you, for him, for the two of you together?

You shift slightly, tilting your head to look up at him. “Lando?”

He hums in response, his eyes closed, his face relaxed in a way you’ve rarely seen.

“What happens now?” you ask, your voice small, almost afraid to break the spell.

He opens his eyes, blinking down at you, and for a moment, there’s a flicker of something—uncertainty, maybe? But it’s quickly replaced by a look of determination, of resolve.

“Now,” he says, his voice firm but gentle, “we figure it out.”

You nod, wanting to believe him, wanting to hold onto this feeling for as long as you can. But the doubts are still there, lurking at the edges of your mind.

“Are you sure?” you ask, needing to hear him say it, needing to know that this isn’t just a fleeting moment, that it means as much to him as it does to you.

He pulls you closer, his arms tightening around you, his gaze steady and sincere. “I’m sure,” he says, his voice leaving no room for doubt. “I don’t know what this is, but I know it’s something real. And I don’t want to lose it.”

The sincerity in his words, in his eyes, soothes the lingering doubts in your mind. You rest your head against his chest again, closing your eyes and letting his steady heartbeat calm you.

“Okay,” you whisper, a sense of peace settling over you.

He kisses the top of your head, his lips lingering there for a moment, and you feel his smile against your hair.

You stay like that for a long time, just holding each other, content in the quiet intimacy of the moment. The world outside might be complicated, full of uncertainties and challenges, but in this room, in each other’s arms, there’s only warmth, safety, and the promise of something more.

Eventually, the exhaustion from the night catches up with you, your eyes growing heavy as sleep begins to pull you under. Lando’s presence is a comforting anchor, his arms around you a safe haven that you don’t want to leave. As you drift off, the last thing you’re aware of is the steady rhythm of his breathing, a lullaby that carries you into a peaceful, dreamless sleep.

When you wake, it’s to the soft light of dawn filtering through the thin curtains, casting a warm, golden glow over the room. For a moment, you’re disoriented, the events of the night before hazy and surreal in your sleep-fogged mind. But then you feel the warmth beside you, the steady rise and fall of Lando’s chest beneath your cheek, and everything comes rushing back.

You lift your head slightly, taking in the sight of him asleep beside you. His face is relaxed, peaceful in a way that makes him seem younger, almost boyish. The morning light softens his features, highlighting the curve of his jaw, the way his dark lashes fan out against his cheeks. He looks so different from the cocky, self-assured boy who strides into the diner every evening, his swaggering confidence replaced by something gentler, more vulnerable.

For a moment, you just watch him, your heart swelling with an emotion you’re not quite ready to name. It’s strange, how quickly things have changed between you, how one night can alter the course of your life so drastically. But as you lie there, wrapped in the warmth of his arms, you can’t find it in yourself to regret anything that’s happened.

You shift slightly, careful not to wake him as you slip out of bed. The cool air of the room hits your bare skin, making you shiver as you pull on the discarded shirt from the night before. It smells faintly of him, a comforting scent that makes you smile as you button it up.

Quietly, you pad over to the window, pulling the curtain back slightly to peer outside. The rain has stopped, leaving the world fresh and clean, the grass glistening with morning dew. The sky is a soft blue, streaked with the pink and gold of the rising sun. It’s a beautiful morning, the kind that makes everything seem possible, like the whole world is brimming with promise.

But as you stand there, the doubts start to creep back in. What happens now? The question lingers in your mind, refusing to be silenced. Last night was incredible, a perfect moment in time, but what about today? What about tomorrow? You and Lando come from such different worlds—how can this possibly work in the long run?

You’re so lost in thought that you don’t hear him stir until his arms slip around your waist, pulling you back against his chest. He rests his chin on your shoulder, his breath warm against your ear as he murmurs, “What are you thinking about?”

You sigh, leaning back into his embrace. “Just… wondering what happens now.”

His hold tightens slightly, as if he’s afraid you’re going to slip away. “We talked about this last night, remember? We’ll figure it out.”

“I know, but…” You hesitate, trying to find the right words. “It’s just—everything’s so different in the daylight. Last night felt like a dream, like we were in our own little world. But now…” You trail off, unsure how to articulate the anxiety gnawing at you.

Lando is silent for a moment, his brow furrowed in thought as he follows your gaze out the window. Finally, he turns you around to face him, his hands resting on your shoulders. “Hey, look at me,” he says softly, waiting until you meet his eyes. “Nothing’s changed. I’m still here, and so are you. We can make this work.”

“But how?” you ask, the words spilling out before you can stop them. “We barely know each other. What if… what if this doesn’t last? What if it all falls apart?”

He studies you for a moment, his expression serious. “Do you really believe that?” he asks quietly.

“I don’t know,” you admit, your voice trembling slightly. “I’m scared, Lando. I’m scared of what happens if we try and it doesn’t work. I don’t want to lose… whatever this is.”

He sighs, his thumb brushing gently across your cheek. “I’m scared too, if I’m honest. I’ve never felt like this about anyone before. But that’s why we have to try, yeah? Because it’s worth it. You’re worth it.”

The sincerity in his voice, in his eyes, makes your heart skip a beat. He’s right, of course. You know he is. You’ve spent so much time playing it safe, keeping yourself hidden away, that the idea of something real, something that could actually mean something, terrifies you. But it’s also what you’ve been longing for—someone to break through the walls you’ve built around yourself, to show you that there’s more to life than just getting by.

You take a deep breath, nodding slowly as you try to push past the fear. “Okay,” you say softly. “We’ll figure it out.”

A slow, relieved smile spreads across his face, and he leans down to press a gentle kiss to your forehead. “Good. Because I’m not giving up on this. Not on you.”

His words wrap around you like a warm blanket, soothing the anxiety that’s been simmering beneath the surface. Maybe it won’t be easy, maybe there will be challenges you can’t even foresee yet, but standing here in his arms, you feel like maybe, just maybe, it’s worth the risk.

You rest your head against his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart, and for the first time in a long time, you allow yourself to hope. To believe that things might actually work out.

After a while, he gently nudges you towards the bed. “Come on, let’s get some more sleep,” he suggests, his voice still thick with the remnants of sleep.

But you shake your head, smiling up at him. “We’ve got a long day ahead of us,” you say, feeling a strange surge of determination. “Let’s not waste it.”

He chuckles softly, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “Always so practical,” he teases, though there’s a fondness in his tone that makes your heart flutter. “Alright, let’s get dressed. But I’m warning you, I’m taking you out for breakfast. Proper breakfast, not just coffee at the diner.”

The mention of the diner brings you back to reality, the thought of going back to your usual routine, of facing the world outside this room, suddenly feeling daunting. But Lando’s easy smile and the warmth in his eyes give you the courage you need to take that first step.

You both dress in comfortable silence, the weight of what’s to come hanging between you, but there’s no sense of dread, only a quiet resolve. Once you’re both ready, Lando grabs his jacket, offering you a lopsided grin as he swings it over his shoulder.

“Ready?” he asks, his voice light but his eyes serious.

You take a deep breath, nodding as you take his hand. “Ready.”

Together, you step out of the motel room, the morning sun casting long shadows on the gravel beneath your feet. The world outside feels different now, not quite as daunting, not quite as overwhelming. With Lando beside you, his hand warm in yours, you feel like you can face whatever comes your way.

As you walk towards the motorcycle, you glance up at him, a question forming in your mind. “So, where are we going?”

He grins, that mischievous sparkle back in his eyes. “You’ll see. It’s a surprise.”

You raise an eyebrow, half-amused, half-curious. “Another one of your surprises, huh? Should I be worried?”

“Nah,” he says, squeezing your hand reassuringly. “Trust me, you’ll like this one.”

And strangely enough, you do trust him. Maybe that’s the most surprising thing of all—how quickly you’ve come to rely on him, to feel safe with him, even though he’s nothing like the kind of person you’d ever imagined yourself with.

But life has a funny way of surprising you, of taking you down paths you never expected. And as you climb onto the back of his motorcycle, wrapping your arms around his waist, you realise that maybe, just maybe, you’ve found exactly what you didn’t even know you were looking for.

The engine roars to life beneath you, and with a thrill of anticipation, you hold on tight as Lando pulls out of the car park and onto the open road. The wind rushes past, the world blurring around you, but you don’t feel lost anymore. You’re heading into the unknown, yes, but you’re not alone.

As you ride through the countryside, the morning sun rising higher in the sky, casting everything in a golden light, you feel a sense of peace settle over you. Whatever comes next, whatever challenges you face, you know you’ll figure it out—together.

And that, you think, might just be enough.

Lando’s voice cuts through the wind, loud enough for you to hear over the roar of the engine. “You alright back there?”

You lean forward, resting your chin on his shoulder, and smile. “I’m perfect.”

He laughs, a sound that’s full of life, full of promise, and you feel it resonate deep within you. This is just the beginning, you realise. The start of something new, something real. Something that could change everything.

As the miles stretch out before you, the road winding through the countryside, you hold on tight to Lando, to the future that’s waiting for you just beyond the horizon. It’s a future you never expected, with a boy you never imagined would mean so much to you.

But it’s yours now, and you’re ready to embrace it with open arms.

The open road lies ahead, and with Lando by your side, you’re finally ready to see where it leads.

#f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 smut #lando norris x reader #lando norris smut #lando norris fanfic #lando norris drabble #lando norris one shot #lando norris fluff #formula one x reader

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reiderwriter · 9 months ago

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For some reason my comments don't come through on your posts, but I want to first say I absolutely love your writing and I'm so happy your requests are open!! 🥰😭 So I've had this idea of a fluff mixed with spencer angst where reader is maybe interning at Diana's facility (not a dr yet, studying) and becomes close with Diana by reading, chatting, etc and Spencer over hears it from time to time and the dialogue between spencer and reader gets too close for Spencers comfort, but Diana wants her around more. Thank you again for your hard work okay bye!

A/N: I've never written a fic with Diana in it before, so this was a bit of a challenge for me, bit I enjoyed writing it a lot! Hopefully, this is somewhat like what you wanted!! ❤️

Warnings: Spencer is a bit dense (real) and puts his foot in his mouth (metaphorically, of course).

Diana Reid's son was exactly the way she described him, down to the tiny curls at the base of his neck and the glimmer of intelligence in his eye.

After four weeks interning at the care facility while working on your medical degree, you'd spent a considerable amount of time with your favorite patient, and her stories about her son were legendary.

At first, you weren't sure whether to believe the woman when she said her son was a genius with an IQ of 187, three PhDs, and a job in the FBI. She wouldn't be the first schizophrenic patient to muddle up her facts, but she certainly was the sweetest.

So when you recalled your conversation with the head nurse later that day, she laughed and confirmed every story about Doctor Spencer Reid. Your mouth hung open in shock because surely nobody that incredible could just be out walking the streets.

Another month of conversations about the man, and you were half in love with him. He wrote his mother letters every day - hand wrote them, even - and she's shown you a few. He'd talked about his friends, his team, his jobs, and how he was saving lives. And when one of the latest ones dropped in the news that he'd be free for a visit soon, you found yourself overflowing with anticipation.

Of course, you felt like you already knew the man. You knew what his first words were, what his favorite toy was growing up, and even about the exploits of his first date, as pitiful as it was. What you didn't know was if Diana was passing along similar information about you.

The day Spencer Reid finally showed up, he took your breath away. You were mostly in awe of Diana's ability to describe her son perfectly, though you'd grown fond of her perfectly professional English Lecturer tone of speaking over the last few weeks. She was practically lyrical when talking her son into existence.

“His hair curls beautifully. He's my little adonis. He keeps it too long though, I'm always telling him he needs to cut it because it hides too much of his face,” she'd told you one day before picking her book up and ignoring you for the next half hour.

“My Spencer is delightfully tall. He's a little bit spindly like a spider. He's not the most grateful, that's for sure, we used to call him crash because he was always bumping into things. Poetic, right?”

You knew from the second he walked through the door that this man was him.

Tall, slightly hunched, clutching his satchel strap in his hand, terrifyingly handsome and making your hand jump into your throat. Definitely him, and definitely a problem. You'd have to check the code of conduct about falling hopelessly for a patient's beautiful son.

If you had any doubts, this was Spencer in front of you though, when he bumped into a chair just as he was about to reach his mother, it was confirmed.

“Diana, I believe your Crash is here,” you smiled and giggled, watching her turn quickly to greet her son.

You, too, gave him a warm smile, but he seemed a little hesitant to return it, instead greeting his mother softly and sitting with her while you retreated slightly to give them some privacy.

You hovered in the space, as Diana had been talking about introducing the two of you all week, and you didn't want to distress her if she couldn't find you close by.

But though Spencer was closely attentive and soft with his mother, he took brief pauses to stare almost frustratedly at you. You weren't sure what it was, but something about you was setting Spencer on edge, and that in itself was unsettling you as well.

“Oh, Spencer, you must meet our Y/N. Y/N, come here, this is my son, Spencer.”

Slightly more apprehensive now, you held out your hand to shake his, “I've heard so much about you it's nice to finally be seeing you in person, Doctor Reid.”

He didn't shake your hand, though, but awkwardly waved it off quickly, leaving you to awkwardly replace it by your side.

“Nice to meet you. Are you a new attendant? I asked all updates about my mother's companions to be confirmed and passed on to me, patient and carers included.”

His tone was business-like and clipped, and you could see a gentle annoyance settling on his features.

“I'm sorry, Doctor Reid, I thought Diana would have told you in a letter, or the administration would've passed it on. I'm a medical student on an internship.” You felt like you'd been chastised by an irate parent though he'd at no point raised his voice or indicated in his words any sense of anger at all. His eyes burned across your skin, though, and you felt a flame heat your skin under the weight of his stare.

“You're mother has told me a lot about you though, she reads me your letters sometimes, between our discussions of Marjorie Kempe.”

“My letters? Mom, we've talked about this. Those are private.” You looked at the quiet disappointment on Diana's face and felt protective over the woman all of a sudden.

“Please, I'm sorry for overstepping, but your mother is just very proud of you. She talks about you a lot actually, and your job-”

“With all due respect, Y/N, the last time my mother talked to a new friend about me, he traveled to Virginia and shot one of my friends, so this really is a conversation I'd rather not be having.”

Your heart dropped into your stomach as he turned back to his mother and started talking to her gently again about personal security, effectively dismissing you from the conversation.

You'd had stupid hopes for Spencer Reid, and that's all they would ever be.

Reid talked on, and you left him alone with his mother, though she seemed distracted by your departure.

“Spencer, that wasn't nice. Look at that poor girl. She's close to tears.”

“What? Mom, are you even listening to me?”

“No, and I likely won't until you go and apologize to Y/N. She's a pretty girl, Spencer, and she was very excited to meet you.”

“Pretty…. Mom, please.”

“What, do you disagree? You think I don't know you well enough to know when a girl would suit you well? Or do you think I'm blind to the fact that you were stealing glances at her before she introduced herself.”

Spencer went quiet at having been caught, and he hated to accept that maybe his mother was right.

It was true as well that the care facility had informed him of medical interns coming and going in the next few months, and really, she wasn't to blame for his mother being fond of him.

He was glad, though, that neither of them had noticed the ten minutes he'd spent just outside the large sitting area watching them talk. He'd been obviously taken aback to see someone new so close to his mom and his mom similarly comfortable. He felt even worse for the fact that for a solid minute and a half, he'd stared at the girl with no other thought in his head than the sound of his heart skipping a questioning beat.

He'd pulled himself out of it eventually, but only when another nurse had come along to ask him if he'd actually be visiting his mother today or just dropping in to check on her.

And then he'd bumped into that infernal chair when he was so fixated on getting to them, and she'd opened her mouth and called him crash, and his heart had sank.

He reminded himself it was neither of their faults and inwardly cursed himself for being so unfriendly with someone who'd taken such good care of his mother recently.

He promised himself that he'd talk with his mom and then go and find the woman, and apologising for being such a brute.

“Spencer, are you listening to me, or are you busy daydreaming about my nurse?”

“Mom!”

“You're plain as day, kiddo, you'll never get anything past me. Now please, leave me be, I'm reading. Come back later if you must, but for now, take this to Y/N for me, please. She left it with me to read this morning, but I'm not in the mood for Medieval Romance right now.”

It was a blatant lie, but a dismissal nonetheless, and Spencer quietly took his chance to search for you in the halls.

The head nurse humorously pointed him in the right direction without him asking, much to his annoyance, but he persisted and lightly tapped on your shoulder to greet you.

“Oh, Doctor Reid, hello again.” You smiled a little smaller this time, still polite, but he watched the way it didn't reach your eyes and felt like a jackass all over again.

“My mom told me to come return this book to you.” He held out the book, and you quietly took it, folding it into your arms and hugging it tightly against your chest as you both stood there silently after the exchange.

“I'm sorry, as well. I wasn't exactly very friendly back there, because-”

“It's okay, Doctor Reid, you really don't have to explain. I overstepped, it's my fault and it won't happen again.”

“Are you kidding? My mom hasn't looked that relaxed in years. Please keep overstepping.”

Your smile widened slightly at the compliment, and Spencer's tongue kicked into hyper drive immediately at the sight, even as his brain powered off.

“You're pretty,” he blurted out, stopping only as his brain caught up with his tongue before firing off again. “My mom said you're pretty. I agree as well, though, you have a nice smile, and it's better when you don't force it. Not that I'm telling you how to smile, though. I don't know why I'm telling you this, but my mom made me come over here and talk to you, even though I'm pretty sure that's her book and not one you loaned her.”

He took a moment to catch his breath as you blinked at him in confusion, heart beating rapidly even as you heard the blood rushing through your ears.

“If you're free now, would you want to grab a coffee? Unless you have a boyfriend. Or husband. Or girlfriend or wife, I guess, I don't mean to presume. But if you're free, as in time, and free as in, like, relationship wise, I'd like to buy you a coffee to thank you for listening to my mom.”

He finally stopped, and you stared wondrously at the reddened skin of his cheeks as he held his breath, waiting for your reply.

“You want to take me out for coffee to thank me?”

“Yes.”

“And on a separate note, I'm pretty, and you want to know if I'm in a relationship?”

“I'm sorry, you don't have to tell me, I'll just see myself out. It was a stupid idea anyway-”

“No, wait, Spencer! Let me… let me grab my coat. My lunch break is in half an hour, and I'm sure it'll be okay to take it early.” You held his arm for a second, stepping slightly too close for comfort before realising yourself and taking a tiny step back.

He stood and blinked in your direction, as though wondering seriously for a moment what your lunch break had to do with him.

“Are you going to stand there staring at me, or are we going to go out?”

“You're serious?”

“I guess…. I guess I am.”

“And you're… you're single.”

Your mouth went dry as his skin finally completed its transformation from vampiric to tomato red. You desperately hoped your own embarrassment wasn't equally as readable on your face.

“Quite single. Medical students don't have that much time to date.”

“Neither do FBI agents.”

“Perhaps a subject we could talk more about later?”

“Definitely.”

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #mgg #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fandom #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid criminal minds #spencer reid fanfiction #dr spencer reid #spencer reid x reader fluff #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n

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anadiasmount · 5 months ago

Text

known strangers - jude bellingham x reader.

quick sum: when a stranger from the past is now your future, how are things going to work when the only thing in mind you have is that weekend and him. your boss.

wc: 4k | masterlist | jude’s masterlist

psa 🗣️: HIIIIII!!! ceo!jude ?? yess plsss!! inspired by a clip back when he did cibieles, and a few requests i mixed and played around with 🤭🤭 like always hope you enjoy!! and i am sooo sorry for delaying this!! yet i do feel i'm getting back on track 🤞🏻

“it should not be this fucking hot… why is it so hot?” you blabber to yourself, the wind blowing pieces of your hair around all over the place, making them stick to your lipgloss. you gently removed them from your lips, but they frustrated you more as they returned. your heels clicked against the floor, tugging your purse tighter once you arrived at the huge, tall building downtown.

you were directed right away by the receptionist, her simple instructions to take the elevator to the last floor and then turn left. you felt frozen upon seeing the metal doors, a bubble of anxiety rising through your throat as you began to take it all in. the huge building, the fancy decor, the employees. you felt more than fortunate to land a job a couple of months after you graduated.

most of your friends and people you attended uni with either landed jobs before graduation or were still looking for those opportunities. your line of work came in handy, and you were very pleased at how much you had achieved at your age. you could travel, work, spoil yourself, and make a title for yourself. this was the first chance for you to start your career independently and you took that very seriously.

you scrolled aimlessly on your phone while waiting for the elevator doors to close, checking the latest emails and texts from your friends, holding your purse tight, and fixing your hair back to how it should've been before the wind ruined it. “advice them to assure they're all prepared, the last time they couldn't even utter a word and take responsibility for what they did…” you looked up, standing straighter as you heard a deep voice.

the word scared couldn't even define how you felt at that moment, the blood rushing down your face and stomach-turning upon seeing a similar figure. the same person you spent a night with a summer ago. you recognized him from a mile away as he moved in slow motion, or was it just in your head? it couldn’t possibly be him? or could it?

you looked away almost immediately when you locked eyes for a few seconds, clearing your throat and pretending not to be bothered, but truly you were dying inside just a little. not a little, a lot, you felt like throwing up. maybe you were being dramatic, but a worse fear of yours was seeing somebody you recognize or know in public.

oh how much you wanted to be over, yet it didn't end. the elevator ride was endless, the four walls feeling like they were closing you in, filled with heated tension, and awkwardness. All you could do was breathe quietly, look up to be faced with his firm and structured back under his suit, or be on your phone. you let out a sigh of relief once you walked out, legs wobbly, and your stomach back in place, thankful you didn't throw up from nerves.

you quickly forgot about it, knowing he didn't remember you or acknowledged it. you attended the first meeting of the day, getting to meet a couple of new coworkers who would be participating in the same campaign as you. you all settled to get drinks and lunch together later on after finishing a hypothetical proposal and outline.

a bead of happiness burst in your chest. you could get used to this, it wasn't as bad as it seemed and you fitted in with the rest of them there.

—--------------- 𝒿.𝒷 —---------------

“this weather is so bipolar i don't think my hair will handle it,” said lilly frustrated, shaking her umbrella and putting it away. “as an american this is completely different than where i live, i’d be dying from the heat right now,” she jokes earning a laugh from everyone. “i promise it’s not that bad,” chris sarcastically says shrugging off his coat.

“that bad? it rained all week!”

you were allowed an hour break for lunch, so you all settled for a nice coffee shop across the street since the weather didn’t look promising. after debating and getting conceived by lilly, you ordered an iced coffee and chocolate croissant, content and ready to eat something. the whole group sat by the windows, getting distracted by the rainfall before julian spoke up.

“have you guys met the ceo?” you shake your head no, having no idea what they were or who exactly they were referring to. “no, let’s not even call in that negative energy… the receptionists in the front were gossiping how he had super high expectations for us after last years team was a disaster,” julian stressed, shaking horrified, almost as he had been part of it.

“who exactly is the ceo?” you asked with an unsure smile, earning looks and daggers. “what? what do you mean you don’t know who he is? he basically runs this entire city!” julian was first to speak making you laugh, “you’re joking right?” you deadpan earning a shake from julian. “no… you do realize we have a meeting later with him… right?”

“i barely fully moved in two days ago and haven’t had time to do any research,” you explain taking a sip of your drink. “okay why did i also not know this?” chris exclaimed taking his phone out immediately to check his email.

“guys we can’t forget stuff like this especially when he has strictly scheduled meetings with us! i’m not lying when i say this man will fire us on the spot,” stressed julian making you and lilly snicker a laugh but totally agreeing with him. you couldn’t lose this job just because of minor details like this. you needed to be prepared and organized.

“what else do you know about this ceo?” lilly teased him, laughing when he squinted his eyes towards her.

“well for starters this man is strict and loves his work done in a well manner. if he believes you won't succeed with him, he won't even bother to call you into his office. he was born and raised in england his whole life, he's considered like royalty now with the status he has. you can probably piece he’s the most young eligible bachelor if women are luck to cross his path.”

“he started his company at a young age, no one knows by what or what inspired him, but it's rumored by a small incident when he was young. he's rated most arogant, executive, successful, directorial ceo in all of europe. If that doesn’t scare you than i don’t know what does…” he finished saying.

“well then… no pressure guys,” you joked

—--------------- 𝒿.𝒷 —---------------

“my hand hurts i can’t write anymore,” you sigh removing your glasses and gently closing your eyes feeling how dry and irritated they were, from switching to your ipad and writing notes in your notebook. “that double espresso shot hasn’t kicked in yet,” yawned chris, standing up and stretched.

“for our first day we haven’t done so bad-”

a knock on the glass doors made everyone turn their head, a woman in her late 50s came in, “your scheduled meeting with the ceo is in five.” a sudden mood shift was practically immediate, everyone glancing at each other before prancing around to gather their items. julian even taking a breather before being the first to walk out.

your steps stopped, lilly almost crashing into you as you stared ahead to the one person you didn’t think of ever seeing again. jude. there was no describing how you felt, you couldn’t hear anything around you, just focused on him. How he spoke and had this angry daze on him. julian wasn't lying when he said everyone feared him, you just prayed he didn’t call or recognize you.

“you good?”

“y-yeah-h i’m fine! It just hit me out of nowhere you,” you quickly lied, offering a small smile before hiding behind everyone.

jude looked up dismissing what seemed like his assistant before stepping over to where you all stood. luck didn’t seem to be on your side, since everyone got into a line and put on their most professional smile. jude shook everyone's hand, greeting them and welcoming them to his company. your chest moved up and down as he approached you, biting the inside of your lip anxiously.

“hello, welcome. i’m jude bellingham, it's a delight… to have you here,” jude stammered, his hand shaking yours slower almost as if he wanted to take a better look. you barely looked up just focused on shaking his hand and for him to continue down to the last person. “thank you for having us here,” you spoke softly, removing your hand gently so he could continue on.

jude’s stare lingered on you earning a small shove from lilly who asked with her eyes, “does he know you? do you know him?” you ignored, rather focusing now on your shoes which you had not noticed had mud on them, a headache wanting to appear just by the couple last minutes.

how was it possible? how was it possible for the two of you to be here? in the same room? he was now your boss, and you were his employee. you were to follow his rules, while he just observed and made them. this wasn’t how it was supposed to go. you envisioned a dream different than this. you were convinced it was someone else but not him?

you avoided him at all costs, not wanting to make it weird for him or yourself, but rather save the embarrassment and fear you felt for some other time. if you felt he got nearer you walked away somewhere else, you looked up when it felt like he was the only one staring at you while he spoke. the only constant thought in your head was to act like the professional y/n everyone knew. the one who held her head up high, and got her way no matter what.

------- ୨୧ -------

“why is it you’re doing this?” you asked cheerfully, slipping into jude’s hold as he fixed his sunglasses and laid back on the pool chair. “i don’t understand what you mean?” he shrug, his hand racing from your spine down to your bum, where he rubbed it softly over the bikini material. “explain to me darling.”

“we just met jude… it feels like we’ve known each other longer… surely it feels like something else…”

jude chuckled. “i’ll keep it simple. i happened to be on a business trip and i stumbled across you. you’ve recently graduated, and traveled here to celebrate. though now you're here with me… in this lounge chair, in my bed, in my arms, because that how attached we’ve gotten? tell me i’m wrong?” he challenged, as he leaned up and slid you onto his lap.

“you’re wrong,” you dared with a huge smile on your face sliding your hands onto his shoulders feeling his lips pepper kisses onto your jaw.

“then i’m not doing my job correctly.”

------- ୨୧ -------

“i wanna know more about you, tell me,” you leaned over slightly grabbing his hand and brushed your thumb softly over his knuckles. jude’s eyes followed your movements feeling hesitant since he never did this. his job didn’t allow him to have enough personal time to be himself. but with you, he’d kill to spend every moment together.

so he found himself losing himself in your eyes and allowing himself to reply to any question, doubt, feeling you had. “i promise i’m not that interesting as you think…”

“surely that can’t be true? there's always something more hidden, a locked mystery in a person who doesn't fully show themselves to the world…” you reply taking a sip of your wine staring into his intense eyes, not knowing that behind them jude was already obsessing and going crazy about the idea of you. you allowed yourself to be you and vulnerable, why couldnt he?

“ask me anything.”

------- ୨୧ -------

“what's the biggest aspiration you had as a kid?” jude randomly asked, tucking his head closer into your neck. “the word aspiration would be impossible for five year old me to know. the dream she had was to explore the ocean as a mermaid, then grow up to be teacher,” you rambled.

“would she be proud of the person you are now?”

“she would be mad because of stubborn she was but yes, more than proud…”

------- ୨୧ -------

Jude’s chest burned with anger, grabbing the nearest item before throwing hearing it break into tiny pieces. He took a seat by the balcony looking over to the small

‘dear jude,

the past week has been the most strangest yet fulfilled week i’ve ever had. never did i imagine to meet an extraordinary person like you. and so it pains me write this knowing we have different and separate lives. believe me, i’m saving you from something that would’ve turned ugly. you deserve better and its not me. you have exclusivity, a richer mentality that i know for sure i can’t live up to… just think of me of the one person who you first ever truly got to be yourself with… five year old jude would be proud.

- y/n ♡︎

jude was back to the old him. the one before meeting you. the one too busy for anything and focused on his companies future. yet he couldn’t think at all, your scent lingering around his rrom, in the white button up you wore the night before, just right after moaning his name during your high.

he laughed in disbelief, once again feeling the disappointment and pain in his chest, gliding across the room to the coffee bar where a almost empty bottle of whiskey stood. not thinking it one second and grabbing the bottle to take a huge jug of the bitter drink.

“exclusivity my ass.”

—--------------- 𝒿.𝒷 —---------------

“anything else we can get for you sir?” your coworker asks, jude sighing and loosing his tie. you looked down at your feet, making sure your heels were still shiny after stepping on mud but cleaning it off as you shifted your weight nervously. “you. what’s your name?” his tone laced with a demanding manner. “me?-” lilly blurted.

“no her, the one next to you.”

“i’m y/n… what can i help with,” you nodded. you felt exposed under a microscope. like a new scientific specie discovered. everyone's eyes were on you, making you want to run out and book the first flight back. jude’s eyes widen a tad bit, not knowing if he was just taking you in or if he remembered that same night back in the almafi coast.

“that’s it for today. i will see you all wednesday,” jude shook his head, a bubble of relief bursting through his chest when he recognized you. that same excitement from that night you first met, where you spent the entire evening together, drinks, dinner, dancing, to then sharing his bed in the most intimate manner.

had you remembered him like he did?

“y/n? please stay back, i’d like to run a few things with you,” you were sure your stomach had dropped to your ass again for the second time today, heart banging in your chest that doctors would’ve busted into the room quickly. your friend gave you a confused look, receiving a shy smile from you. you weren’t sure what he wanted, or expected, all you wanted was to leave.

“what can i help with?” you said again, taking short strides as you opened your notebook and prepared to take notes. “why is that i recognize you from somewhere?” jude pushed his brows in, eyes roaming you as you took a seat in front of him. you gulped afraid your voice would sound scared and small in front of jude. could you even call him that? or would you have to refer to him as sir like others? “uh… maybe you have me confused with someone else,” you offered a lie, pursing your lips.

“no. i know who you are…” jude persisted

“i’m sorry sir, i think you are mistaken-”

“jude, call me jude.”

“j-jude, this is a huge misunderstanding,” you giggle nervously shaking your hands, watching as the tall man stands up from his chair and came around to sit on his desk right exactly infront of you. his jaw clenched, leaning slightly back as his hand interlocked and rested just below his stomach, watching as he took a deep breath. “some could argue it isn’t.”

“i don't know-”

“last year i fired two people on their first day because they lied to me. will we have a repeat of that today y/n?” he said sternly making you scoff in disbelief. “excuse me? if me being here bothers you that much then it sounds like an ego problem,” you defend sitting up straight, closing your notebook.

“i’m not here to waste your time or mine either. just get onto what you need to say,” you hurried no caring if you sassed or had an attitude. the nerve to threaten you, on your first day, just because of some history. ‘the history that keeps you up y/n’… said your conscious.

it’s true… and while you hated to bring him up, to recall every memory spent on that trip. you knew deep inside he wasn’t just a stranger. he was someone engraved in your mind until forever held its peace.

you felt shitty the morning after leaving him. remembering how tears flew down your cheeks as you wrote the letter, how jude could sense the already empty space before you walked out. out of the room and his life. but never in your life had you become that scared of being that vulnerable and attached.

every piece of him haunted you. the name, his music taste, the black tie he used the first night you shared a bed together, his briefcase filled with documents, the black gel pens, and gold watch. you felt him everywhere though he was no longer there. you knew the insecurities had won, and you accepted that a person like him could never be with you. the status, the medal he wore around his neck. you couldn’t be that.

“what i need to say? it’s not even close to enough to what i felt after you left me… i know it was you in the elevator this morning, yet i fooled myself into thinking it wasn’t because surely it didn’t seem real…” you looked away rubbing your hands across your lap to clean off the sweat your palms began to build.

“you didn’t mean anything to me… i lied,” you said quickly wanting to forget about him and to push him away. you couldn’t mess up this job opportunity. not wanting to risk what your colleagues, what the press would say. not wanting to risk the possibility of a lifetime just because of a week you spent together. you didn’t do all this work just to get nothing and over a man who just feel rage because of your fault.

“you see, to me exclusivity means nothing to me. not when i know i have the voice to control and decide my life… to chose who i want to spend the rest of my life with,” his voice sounded deep, he looked so hot with his suit on. just exactly how you remembered if not even more handsome. “then do it with someone else, you aren't enough, never will be,” you appointed quickly, standing up and paced around.

jude scoffed a laugh, not feeling an ounce of hurt, rather the exciting feeling in his veins, he sat still in the corner of his desk as he watched you frantically. “baby i’ll always be more than enough, my name is jude bellingham,” he turned you down wanting to laugh at the glare you gave him. “There’s more to us than the almafi coast, don’t you forget it,” he stood on his point, knowing there was no way out for you.

he walked to you, hands in his pocket, “i just needed a warm bed to sleep with at night,” you said trying to hurt him and make him believe you were terrible, but he could see the lies behind your eyes… “the lies y/n… when will it stop and just admit you know you can't deceive me…” his chest brushed against your back, feeling his nose trace your ear down to the corner of your jaw.

“you don’t want to tell me its fate?” he felt you crumble, how you allowed him to hold and let him continue. “you don’t mean to tell me you aren't here because the universe put us in this exact moment?” he defied, referring to a small astrology talk you had when walking on the beach late at night.

“you’re just bluffing.��

“no you’re wrong…” he shook his head, turning you swiftly where he lifted your chin gently to face him. “you can try to forget and ignore me at all costs, just know i’m the only one here who know you. not just professionally but personally as well,” jude intimidated. yet you didn’t feel scared or frightened. you felt drawn to be closer and closer, because its the aura and affect he carried.

“this is wrong jude, what will they say! you're my boss… everyone is afraid of you…” you said softly, breathing deeply as your forehead itched closer. “they should be afraid of me especially if they have the nerve to speak about you,” he lifted your face once again, wrapping an arm firmly around your waist. “but when i'm with you… i’m the man who i was back in the almafi coast. i don’t have to be forced to be someone i’m not, i can be jude… the jude five year old me would be proud of…” jude continued, pressing a kiss on your cheek.

“jude…” you whimpered, hands gliding across his chest where you slowly drew up to his neck.

“i’m angry with you so angry… for leaving me… for hurting me… for allowing me to get to this point…” jude spoke, his brows drawn in angrily yet holding you so gently, shaking his head at every sentence. “i’m sorry…” you attempted but instead were silenced by a small ‘shh’ jude hummed.

“it can be scary i know it can, but we could have saved us from all this if we simply tried y/n… all i wanted was for us to try. you left me confused, used! you let me believe i was used by you because you left in the end. i was scared i had pushed you away,” jude spoke softly yet with a tone filled with remorse.

“i pushed myself away… my thoughts were consumed by past actions and beliefs jude! i did it with the intention to protect us from this! from the hurting you feel, felt! i can’t allow myself to get so attached to a person knowing the outcome it can have. we both don’t deserve that,” you humbled.

“we don’t darling, we don’t… but you're here with me… in my arms, what does that say?” you shrugged at him, feeling to pull away but the feeling of home in his arms was to much to overcome.

“it means that were known strangers, and it won't be easy to just work under the same building knowing what we did, what we felt. and i’ll do anything to prove to you that exclusivity and status have nothing to do with the future i picture you and me with. there is a happy ever after for us, can’t you feel it?” he placed your small hand against his fast-beating heart.

“yes,” you threw yourself at him, jude groaning as he devoured you as a whole. your kiss messy, not an ounce of sweetness, making up for the long european summer that held the distance you parted with. tasting you like it was his last meal, engraving your closed his in his mind knowing that no matter what, you were his.

“mr. bellingham? the orders from germany have just arrived, and we had the underground staff separate them-” a man's voice spoke as they barged in seeing the whole scene uncut, wide eyes and lips as he stuttered out a response. knowing he walked into a lion's den, and it would be hell to get back out. you pushed away from jude, who held a confused stare, to then glaring at his assistant.

“oh no…” you whimpered scaredily.

—--------------- 𝒿.𝒷 —---------------

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