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[SCENARIO CONTINUED FROM HERE.]
You select the second oldest of the available files. An observation log — COLONY keeps these, or so you assume. He never leaves commentary or notes to organize them. He probably just memorizes them instead. The terminal beeps beneath your fingertips, every click practically a gunshot in the quiet room. Thanks to your pass you are technically permitted to be here by the system — but you know better. There are security measures here that were not to be violated. If you are discovered, if THIS is discovered, you would likely be in trouble. The screen loads. Text fills the margins. After a moment, you realize that it is not just a file; it’s a transcript and an audio sample. There’s also a small attachment of some kind, likely an image. You play the audio.
[LOADING. . . (A short period of complete silence. Then, rustling as footsteps approach, and the familiar whir of a door. A familiar voice fades in with them.) “… I told you, it isn’t going to work.” “So you’ve said, Captain.” (The door whirs again. Locks.) “Please don’t call me that. Everyone keeps calling me that. Really I mean, I don’t even know what to do with…” (The sound of movement. Footsteps, slightly heavier but more measured than the first. The sound of something opening with a mechanical hiss — a containment unit?) (A quiet sigh. It’s barely audible.) “That… isn’t what I think. Right? Another one?” (A chuckle.) “Don’t sound so unenthusiastic. It’s terrible for morale.” “Le—“ “Just put them on, won’t you? It can’t hurt. One more trial.” “… Fine! Fine.” (The footsteps draw closer.) “Good. Now grab my hand.” (A clang, like somebody knocked into something.) “No.” “Trust me.” (Rapidly receding footsteps joined by another set.) “No!”(A loud bang, like a fist slamming against metal. The footsteps stop.) “No.” “It’ll be fine.” “You don’t know that.” “I’m right.” “This isn’t the answer. It isn’t going to — it’ll never be the answer, Leander, and I don’t even know what it — you know you can’t, right? Can’t come back? Doing this won’t let you see her agai——!“ “Captain.” (Silence.) “… shit. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that.” “Prove it.” ”Leander, please.” “Grab my hand. This will work.” “…” “I swear.” (The seconds tick by. Then.) “You...” (Another chuckle. Warmer in tone.) “Didn’t I say I would do it? Didn’t I promise?” (Laughter. Loud, nearly hysterical laughter interrupts him. It’s boisterous, disruptive.) “You did! You did, you… you magnificent bastard, you really found a way to———“] The audio ends. You stare at the screen. No matter how long you look at it, the text does not continue, the audio file does not extend. All that remains is a single attachment. Frustration makes your jaw tense, but you don’t have time to waste being angry. You’re running out the clock as it is. You click it. [LOADING. . .]
And then the screen goes dark. No. Not just the screen — the whole room blacks out. Every terminal flickers off, every bulb extinguishes. For a moment, there is total, unfamiliar silence. Even the faint electric buzzing that comes with electronics is gone. You are completely alone. You turn, grasping blindly at the records pass, the imprint of the screen still on your eyes. You stumble for the door, and to your surprise the pass blinks green, the only light left in the room. It opens and you shove your way through into the hall — Only to slam into a barrier. You look around. There is no hallway. Of all times for the paths to shift… The room you are in is tiny. The door behind you closes, and there is no scanner on your side, nor a handle. It is completely featureless. There is no way to open it. You call for COLONY. There is no answer. You call for the Captain. There is no answer. You call for help. You call for help. You call. You call. you. c a l l. . . . . . . . . . [YOU CANNOT BE TRUSTED.] [. . . ] [THE CAPTAIN WILL LOOK FOR YOU.] [. . .] [BUT THE CAPTAIN WILL NOT FIND YOU.] [ . . . ] [I AM SORRY.] [I AM SURE THAT MEANS LITTLE. BUT I AM.] [CURIOSITY IS NOT A TERRIBLE THING.] [BUT I WAS UNDER THE IMPRESSION THAT HUMANS QUITE LIKED CATS.] [. . .] [A POOR JOKE.] [I CAN’T HELP BUT WONDER IF IT WAS WORTH IT.] [I DOUBT IT.] [BUT I DO HOPE.]
(Scenario End. Ending: “Status Quo”.)
#tales aboard the hive#captain’s contests (interactive games)#i’m sorry for how brief this was! i didn’t want to drag it out if it ended up being not fun for people lol#i did it on a whim because i wanted to celebrate the whole HIVE thing#fun fact: if you had chosen either of the other two options there would have been entirely different conversation files!#each one with a different piece of art to go with it#back in the box those concepts go though ✨#thank you to all the crewmates who followed for… literally any fandom i’m in#i promise more of that will come soon#just gotta get the HIVE brainrot out first#but hey if you did enjoy this lemme know#it was interesting to write#hive crewmates tag (ocs)#ney’s art#sona art
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bloodcore
1. excerpts from my diary, inkedpoet 2. in the dream house, carmen maria machado 3. gojo yubari, kill bill vol. 1 / 4. title unknown, solitary-sister 5. bleeding love by leona lewis 6 + 7. blood feast, herschell gordan lewis, 1963 8. bloodstream by stateless 9. anna de noailles tr., norman r. shapiro, from poems; “dazzled, precise,”. 10. image source unknown.
#wake up besties. mer finally got the courage to post a webweaving post#ajsksoskdkslsldk honestly this didn’t take nearly as long as i thought it would bc the experience truly soothes something in me????#like idk. it may not even be everyone’s vibe and honestly maybe il fckn delete this#BUT LIKE ALSOOOO#the writer/creator in me is like !!!!!!!!#webweaving is so lovely 2 me#webweaving#poetry#i feel morally obligated to tag this as a trigger warning for blood but ALSOO#if u follow me/engage w my content you know i LOVE gory shit#blood as concept has always rotted my brain. like it fascinates me lmao#idk man#this is getting long#screams#blood#if you enjoy these beloved mutuals/followers pls lemme know and i shall make more!!!!#gloomcore
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STOP DOING THIS IN INJURY FICS!!
Bleeding:
Blood is warm. if blood is cold, you’re really fucking feverish or the person is dead. it’s only sticky after it coagulates.
It smells! like iron, obv, but very metallic. heavy blood loss has a really potent smell, someone will notice.
Unless in a state of shock or fight-flight mode, a character will know they’re bleeding. stop with the ‘i didn’t even feel it’ yeah you did. drowsiness, confusion, pale complexion, nausea, clumsiness, and memory loss are symptoms to include.
blood flow ebbs. sometimes it’s really gushin’, other times it’s a trickle. could be the same wound at different points.
it’s slow. use this to your advantage! more sad writer times hehehe.
Stab wounds:
I have been mildly impaled with rebar on an occasion, so let me explain from experience. being stabbed is bizarre af. your body is soft. you can squish it, feel it jiggle when you move. whatever just stabbed you? not jiggly. it feels stiff and numb after the pain fades. often, stab wounds lead to nerve damage. hands, arms, feet, neck, all have more motor nerve clusters than the torso. fingers may go numb or useless if a tendon is nicked.
also, bleeding takes FOREVER to stop, as mentioned above.
if the wound has an exit wound, like a bullet clean through or a spear through the whole limb, DONT REMOVE THE OBJECT. character will die. leave it, bandage around it. could be a good opportunity for some touchy touchy :)
whump writers - good opportunity for caretaker angst and fluff w/ trying to manhandle whumpee into a good position to access both sites
Concussion:
despite the amnesia and confusion, people ain’t that articulate. even if they’re mumbling about how much they love (person) - if that’s ur trope - or a secret, it’s gonna make no sense. garbled nonsense, no full sentences, just a coupla words here and there.
if the concussion is mild, they’re gonna feel fine. until….bam! out like a light. kinda funny to witness, but also a good time for some caretaking fluff.
Fever:
you die at 110F. no 'oh no his fever is 120F!! ahhh!“ no his fever is 0F because he’s fucking dead. you lose consciousness around 103, sometimes less if it’s a child. brain damage occurs at over 104.
ACTUAL SYMPTOMS:
sluggishness
seizures (severe)
inability to speak clearly
feeling chilly/shivering
nausea
pain
delirium
symptoms increase as fever rises. slow build that secret sickness! feverish people can be irritable, maybe a bit of sass followed by some hurt/comfort. never hurt anybody.
ALSO about fevers - they absolutely can cause hallucinations. Sometimes these alter memory and future memory processing. they're scary shit guys.
fevers are a big deal! bad shit can happen! milk that till its dry (chill out) and get some good hurt/comfort whumpee shit.
keep writing u sadistic nerds xox love you
ALSO I FORGOT LEMME ADD ON:
YOU DIE AT 85F
sorry I forgot. at that point for a sustained period of time you're too cold to survive.
pt 2
also please stop traumadumping in the notes/tags, that's not the point of this post. it's really upsetting to see on my feed, so i'm muting the notifs for this post. if you have a question about this post, dm me, but i don't want a constant influx of traumatic stories. xox
#writing tips#writing advice#writing help#writblr#how to write#fiction writing#for writers#on writing#writing stuff#writer life
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CRAZY | JJK (Part 1)
summary you know it sounds twisted. that most people would see hyungwon as the perfect boyfriend. healthy, balanced, all the things that relationships should be. that’s when you realized... you weren't like most people. but that's okay. because neither is jungkook.
pairing ceo!jk x employee!(f)reader
rating 18+ minors dni; smut, fluff, angst
genre coworkers to lovers au, established relationship
word count 15.5k
content jk 29 | yn 26, very jealous controlling and possessive jk, same for oc, spirited & bratty oc, jk is rich and spoils his girl, pet names, toxic relo, jk is a red flag, oc is a red flag, they’re obsessed w each other, bonnie n clyde ride or die type shit, soft yandere, drama, mc arguments, cursing, they get angry quick and over it quicker, bar fighting, jk punches a guy.. or two, blood, oc is roughly grabbed on arm by a male w/o consent, canon couple
warnings dom jk, sub oc, pre established traffic light sw system, daddy kink, consensual degradation, fingering (f rec), oral (f rec), dirty talk, breeding kink, condomless p in v sex, oc has a birth control implant, multiple orgasms, creampie, kinda rough(?) sex but i think it ends quite softly, theyre dirty and in love!
a/n pls read all the warnings first & only proceed if ur comfortable!! these two are superr obsessively codependent and possessive so tread lightly baby 🙂↕️!! im kinda self conscious abt the smut but i like the fic part and i hope u do too <<3 lemme know if i missed any tags 🖤 mwah
crazy pt 2 | masterlist | join my taglist | banner credit
There was something dangerous about him. Something you couldn’t help but be drawn to, no matter how much you knew you shouldn’t. It was like playing with fire—intoxicating, thrilling… stupid.
You knew it complicated things, maybe even made life harder, but you never had been one to back down from a challenge. And when someone like Jeon Jungkook—the kind of man who looked like pure trouble but made you feel more alive than you ever had—walked into your life, resisting him was never even an option.
It hadn’t always been like this. You used to date Park Hyungwon, after all.
Hyungwon was perfectly fine. Kind, sweet, thoughtful in all the ways that made him a good guy. The type who held open doors and asked if you wanted to split dessert. You’d met him through his cousin, Jimin—your colleague and an absolute angel on Earth. In fact, you ended up closer to Jimin than you ever were with Hyungwon.
Because Hyungwon? He was just… ordinary.
There was nothing wrong with ordinary. Some people needed that. They craved stability, predictability. But you? You realized a long time ago that you needed more. You craved intensity. You needed to feel like someone’s whole world. And when your boyfriend didn’t care who you were with, what you were doing, when he didn’t even notice if you went days without texting… well, you started to feel invisible.
You knew it sounded twisted. That most people would see Hyungwon as the perfect boyfriend. Healthy, balanced, all the things that relationships should be. But that’s when you realized... you weren’t like most people.
And then he entered the picture.
Jeon Jungkook, CEO of Jeon Corp, son of the late Jeon Jun-seo.
You’d been at Jeon Corp for three years now, starting as a temp and moving into a more permanent role. Everyone knew him—the young, ruthless leader who took over seamlessly and ran things with an iron grip after his father's passing. People admired him, respected him. Feared him.
It had been two years since you made it official with the man you knew was the epic love of your life. Before that, you were friends with benefits for—what, a week? Maybe less. You both knew right from the start that there was no going back to being just colleagues or fuck-buddies. He consumed you, and you reveled in every second of it.
In the early days of your relationship, you couldn’t help but worry. Maybe your promotion had less to do with your work ethic and more to do with Jungkook lusting for you. It was hard not to question it, especially when he was your boss, and you knew exactly how intense his desire for you was. But Jungkook shut that shit down fast.
He had hundreds of employees under him, most of whom he hadn’t even had a proper conversation with. He’d approached you solely because of your performance—your results catching his attention long before he even knew what you looked like. Jimin had confirmed it.
Still, you loved teasing him about it—how he’d basically been eye-fucking you the entire time during your first real meeting. Jungkook never denied it. He would just give you that cheeky, devilish grin of his, reminding you just how that meeting had concluded—with you, bent right over his desk.
Now, sitting at Lumi’s bar with the soft murmur of conversations and the clink of glasses fading into background noise, your phone buzzed with a new message. A smile tugged at the corners of your lips, heat spreading through your veins as you read his words.
My Love 10:43 PM Why is your location off? Sent with Siri
10:43 PM Turn it on. Now. Sent with Siri
You bit your lip, already imagining the storm brewing inside him. He was driving, and now probably wasn’t the best time to mess with him. But you were still pissed. And the brat in you couldn’t resist poking him just a little more.
You 10:47 PM i'm out, my love.
His reply was immediate, almost before you even hit send.
My Love 10:47 PM Not in the mood baby. Turn it on
You rolled your eyes, stifling a laugh as you took another sip of your drink. You could picture him now, pulling the car over, typing furiously with that adorable, frustrated frown. Oh, he was pissed—but that only made it more fun. You let him stew for a few minutes longer.
You 10:52 PM bad day at work? :(
His next texts came in a flurry, and you could almost feel the heat in them.
My Love 10:52 PM Why the fuck are you taking so long to respond? Who are you with?
10:53 PM You didnt tell me you were going out tonight and I just went all the way to your fucking house to find out you’re not even there? And your car’s gone? You drove to go out??? Are you fucking crazy?
His jealousy stoked a fire inside you. You knew better than to test his patience... but you just couldn’t help yourself.
You pulled up your camera and hit record. It started with your legs—crossed elegantly on the stool, the hem of your little black dress riding up just enough to tease. You let your foot swing, the glossy polish on your toes catching the dim light. The clip was short, but you knew Jungkook would recognize the bar in an instant.
Then, you flipped the camera. Your face came into view, framed by a pout and the neckline of your dress—the replacement for the one he’d ripped clean off you the last time some idiot tried to touch you. Jungkook had beaten the guy to a pulp, of course, which was why you were both banned from JaeJae's nightclub downtown. But you hadn’t cared then, and you certainly didn’t now.
Just before you stopped recording, you made sure the camera caught a glimpse of the arm next to you—the arm belonging to the guy who had been sulking since you brushed off his lame advances. You had been ignoring him ever since you walked in, but apparently, he was as clueless as he was underwhelming.
You hadn’t expected to be at this bar alone. In fact, you were supposed to be home with Jungkook tonight. He’d promised an early finish—four o’clock, to be exact—and you’d planned a cute pamper night for the two of you. Face masks, cheesy rom-coms. You even baked cookies.
But then, three o’clock rolled around, and your phone rang. His voice on the other end was apologetic, practically rehearsed at this point. He had to stay late. Again. Not even just a little late—ten-fucking-thirty late. Two hours past his usual finishing time.
You were livid. He promised you tonight.
You hadn’t even let him finish his sentence before hanging up, ignoring the rapid flood of missed calls and texts as you angrily dumped the chocolate chip cookies in the trash.
You were so pissed you might’ve even made his assistant, Hoseok, cry when Jungkook sent him over to check on you. Poor guy. You’d apologize later. Maybe.
By the time 10:32 hit and your phone was still silent, that pit of anger in your stomach twisted into something much sharper. You pulled up the security cameras at his office—and, of course, the room was empty. His briefcase, his keys… all gone.
He had left work without even telling you.
He always texted you when he was leaving the office. You knew there wasn’t a chance in hell it was infidelity; that wasn’t even a possibility. Cheating wasn’t something either of you entertained. But the silence? The lack of communication? That cut.
Sure, you’d been ignoring his calls ever since he canceled on you… but you were allowed to be pissed right now. He? Was not.
When your doorbell camera alert went off at 10:42, right before you were about to check his location, you felt a mix of relief and annoyance rise in your chest. You pulled up the feed to see him standing there—frustrated, fist clenched around his phone, clearly ready for a confrontation.
But you weren’t home.
You were here, at this grimy, sticky bar. Waiting.
The guy next to you shifted in his seat again, breaking you out of your thoughts. He was still there, lingering, despite your obvious disinterest. But honestly, you were kind of glad he hadn’t left.
Because the response you got from Jungkook when you hit send on that video?
Absolutely fucking perfect.
My Love 10:55 PM I'll be there in five minutes.
10:56 PM And if there is anyone sitting next to you who doesn't have a cunt or the name Park Jimin, theyre fucking dead Y/N
10:56 PM And you’re fucking walking home
You suppressed a laugh as you wiped the sugary remnants of your drink from your lips, knowing better than anyone just how serious he was.
As much as you hated to admit it, you loved the way Jungkook loved you. His possessiveness didn’t bother you. In fact, it drove you wild. That definitely made you as much of a red flag as him. But did you care?
A few minutes passed as you took some selfies and uploaded them to your Instagram story, twirling the straw in your glass absentmindedly. Then you remembered the idiot next to you.
"Oh," you said, clearing your throat. He perked up immediately, pulling his beer away from his lips as he turned toward you, eyes lighting up in anticipation. Gross. "You might want to leave."
His smile faltered, confusion knitting his brow. "What?"
You blinked, tilting your head slightly as if he hadn’t just heard you. Leaning in closer, you repeated yourself. "I said, you might want to leave."
He chuckled, leaning in way too close, his breath hot and stale. “Why would I do that? Sitting next to a pretty thing like you? You look a little bored, baby… I can keep you entertained.”
You suppressed a gag. "Hard pass." You shuddered, pulling back. “But really, my boyfriend’s on his way, and he’s pissed. You might want to move down a seat or two.”
He just laughed, lifting his beer again and taking a long gulp, his eyes creepily never leaving yours. "I can handle myself just fine, sweetheart. It’s hot that you’re worried about me, though."
God. You’d never been drier in your entire life.
"Your funeral," you muttered, rolling your eyes as you turned back to your phone.
A few more minutes passed in silence, and just when you thought the idiot might’ve finally left you alone, you felt him shift again, turning toward you like he was about to start up another conversation. You sighed, not actually wanting to watch another guy get the shit beaten out of him. So, you grabbed your purse and your half-empty glass, ready to leave.
But just as you slid off the stool, his hand wrapped around your arm.
"Where are you going, baby?” His voice dripped with sleaze. “This playing hard-to-get thing was sexy at first, but now it’s getting kinda boring.”
Your stomach turned, and you yanked your arm from his grip, disgust curling your lip. "Eugh, could you be any more of a stereotypical douche? Get a fucking life."
You took a step to leave, but his hand clamped down on your arm again, harder this time.
“You’ve got a mouth on you, huh?” His voice dropped, and a sickening grin spread across his face as his fingers dug deeper into your skin. “That’s okay. I like ’em that way.”
Rage flared in your chest, hot and immediate. Without thinking, your hand swung forward, and the rest of your drink splashed across his smug face. His eyes widened in shock, the liquid dripping off his chin, but you weren’t finished.
Your free hand darted into the outer pocket of your purse, fingers wrapping around the pink pepper spray canister Jungkook bought for you. You whipped it out, aiming the nozzle directly at his face and pressed down hard.
“Fuck!” he screamed, stumbling back, hands flying to his eyes. But you didn’t let up. The adrenaline thrummed in your veins as you kept spraying, ignoring the yelps and curses spilling from his lips as he clawed at his burning face.
“You crazy fucking bitch! Stop!”
“God, you piece of shit!” you yelled, uncaring of the stares now fixed on you. “Don’t ever touch anyone when they don’t want you to! Fucking pig!”
The can felt significantly lighter by the time you finally stopped, and the guy was practically on his knees, whimpering. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw the bartender waving security in your direction and your eyes rolled to the back of your head. Typical. He’d been close enough to hear everything, but now he wanted to intervene?
“Cunt,” you muttered under your breath, slamming your empty glass on the bar before turning to leave.
“I’m going, I’m going,” you scoffed as the guard approached, adjusting your purse on your shoulder and smoothing down the hem of your dress. As you turned to walk away, you pulled out your phone, thumb hovering over Jungkook’s contact.
But before you could make it far, a heavy hand pressed into your back, shoving you toward the exit.
“What the fuck are you doing?” you snapped, stumbling as the security guard forced you forward. “I said I’m leaving. I’m just calling my boyfriend. Let go of me, freak—”
“Ma’am, don’t speak to me like that,” the guard growled, his voice deep and commanding. “Get outside, now.”
“I'm going, you big loof. Can you at least let me wait in the bathroom? If my boyfriend sees me standing outside alone, he’s gonna—”
"I don’t care what he’s gonna do to you, ma’am. Keep moving."
You almost laughed. "Do to me?" You were about to tell him how wrong he had it—that he should be the one worried—when suddenly, the hand on your back vanished. You stopped, brushing yourself off, ready to turn and gloat.
But it wasn’t your words that made him let go. It was Jungkook.
Your very angry boyfriend had shoved the guard—who was easily twice his size—backwards so hard the guy stumbled, nearly falling over.
Jungkook’s eyes were wild, flicking between you and the security guard, a dangerous mix of concern and pure rage.
"Oh, hi, baby—"
“Get in the car,” he growled, his voice low and deadly as he handed you his keys. “And lock the fucking doors. Now.”
His tone sent a shiver down your spine, and you bit back the urge to argue. Instead, you took the keys and turned toward the door, but the security guard wasn’t backing down.
"You and your bitch need to leave now," the guard snapped. "You’re banned from this bar."
Another one? You almost pouted, but he kept going.
"We have you on CCTV. If the victim presses charges, you’ll be contacted."
“What victim?” You laughed, taking a step toward the guy. “You’re gonna let that pig press charges?”
Jungkook’s head snapped toward you, jaw clenched, staying firmly between you and the goon. “What is he talking about? Who’s pressing charges?”
You rolled your eyes, crossing your arms as you gestured toward the guy still rubbing his eyes with a bar towel, water dripping down his face. “That idiot. But it’s fine, baby. I finally got to use the pepper spray you gave me,” you added, poking Jungkook’s stomach with a giddy smile.
His lips twitched, but his expression stayed serious. “Why’d you have to use it?”
You shrugged, tilting your head, giving him that innocent look you knew drove him crazy. "He kept trying to touch me, but don’t worry, I handled it. Let’s go now, please."
But Jungkook’s gaze was already darkening, his eyes now fixed on the pathetic excuse of a man across the room. You could see the anger rising, feel the tension radiating off him, and you knew he was seconds away from losing his shit.
“Let’s just go, love,” you urged, voice rushing as you eyed the situation. “It’s over now.”
The security guard had disappeared to fetch backup, and you couldn’t help but smirk at the thought. The fact that he needed help dealing with Jungkook was almost laughable. Your man might not have been the biggest guy in the room, but you knew that shove must have rattled him, seeing as though the sidekick he'd now acquired was even bigger than he was.
And they were both stomping toward you.
You turned to warn Jungkook, “Baby—” but as your eyes shifted back to him, he was no longer at your side.
Your gaze snapped to the bar. There he was—storming up to the sleazebag still nursing his wet eyes with a towel, completely unaware that your furious boyfriend was closing in behind him. Ugh, he was like an angry, sexy bunny.
"Fuck," you muttered under your breath, pushing past a couple of people and hurrying over as quick as you could in your three-thousand-dollar stilettos.
As turned on as you were by the sight of him right now, you really didn’t need him missing work tomorrow because he'd been locked up for the night.
And then you, of course, also missing work because you had to sleep in the uncomfortable plastic chair next to his cell, since the officers wouldn’t accept bail again until he had completed his twelve-hour minimum hold.
You were almost there when you saw it—Jungkook’s hand gripping the back of the guy’s collar, yanking him back with so much force that the idiot’s eyes flew open in shock, panic flooding his face as he realized what was happening.
You bit your lip, trying to shove away the image that popped into your head of Jungkook’s hand tangled in your hair, pulling you up in that exact same way when he had you beneath him, forcing your eyes on his as he drove into you from behind.
God, not now, Y/N.
“Koo, baby, wait—” you called, but it was too late. He was gone.
Before the guy could even think about pushing Jungkook off, your boyfriend slammed his head down onto the bar with a sickening crack that echoed through the room. You winced, feeling the pain in your own skull just by watching it.
“Fuckkkk,” you hissed, finally reaching him and grabbing his arm. His muscles were rigid, vibrating with barely controlled rage. “Baby, come on. Security is coming—let’s go—”
But your words didn’t register. Jungkook was in another world, eyes burning with an almost feral intensity as he jerked the guy back up.
Without hesitation, he reeled back and delivered a brutal punch to the guy’s face, the thud of knuckles against bone filled the space as the man’s head snapped to the side, his knees buckling as he collapsed to the floor in a heap.
You sucked your teeth in frustration. You couldn’t care less if the guy sat there on the ground and bled out, truly. What you did care about was the thought of Jimin covering your shift tomorrow because you had to spend the night bailing Jungkook out of jail again.
“Okay, my love, that’s good. Now let’s go—”
“Baby, go and—” Jungkook growled, his voice dangerous and low, as he lifted the guy again. His fist swung forward, colliding with the man’s nose, and you winced at the sharp crunch that followed. The guy collapsed again, shaky hands cradling his face as blood spurted from his mouth.
Jungkook’s head whipped around, his dark gaze locking onto you with a ferocity that sent a chill down your spine. “Go and get in the fucking car,” he snapped.
“No, you fucking idiot, come with me—”
Before you could finish your sentence, your feet were suddenly off the ground, the world spinning as you were slung over a massive shoulder. It took you a second to process what the fuck was happening.
"What the fuck!" you screamed, pounding your fists against the back of the goliath security guard who was carrying you like a sack of potatoes. Your purse fell to the ground as the guy just kept walking toward the exit like you were nothing. "Put me down, you fucking freak!"
Through your distorted, lopsided vision, you caught sight of the other, even bigger, guard heading for Jungkook while you were being dragged away.
The second your boyfriend saw what was happening to you, the loser he had been beating on was forgotten. His eyes locked on the guard manhandling you, and fury ignited in his expression.
The guard approaching barely had time to take a step before Jungkook threw him to the ground like he weighed nothing. His unbuttoned dress shirt sleeves exposed the veins in his arms, rippling as he stormed toward you with a look that promised murder. Yummy.
You were still smacking the back of the giant guard carrying you, panic creeping in as the door got closer and closer. "Baby, my purse!" you whined, halting your attack for a second and pointing to the ground. Jungkook was already stalking past it. "Pick it up!"
He grunted in frustration, turning on his heel to grab the fallen Prada before charging back after you.
The guard reached the door just as Jungkook caught up, and you braced yourself for the moment you’d be tossed out like trash. But in one quick motion, Jungkook grabbed your outstretched hand and used his other hand to grab you by the bum, pulling you off the guard’s shoulder.
You beamed as he set you back on your feet, happily taking your purse from him while he just rolled his eyes. Then, he turned and sent his fist straight to the giant’s jaw. The guard actually stumbled backward, clearly feeling the weight of the hit, and for a brief moment, you thought it was over.
But then the bastard straightened up, cracked his neck like a fucking terminator, and stepped forward again, completely unfazed.
"What. The. Fuck," you seethed, your eyes widening in disbelief. You grabbed Jungkook’s hand, tugging him back, but he was already mirroring the guard’s steps, ready to go again.
"Nope," you muttered, wrapping your arms around his bicep and using every ounce of strength to drag him toward the door.
You knew he could easily overpower you, and you could feel the tension in his muscles as he debated it. But after a beat, he scoffed, shooting a final glare at the guard, who had stopped in place, phone in hand as he watched you haul Jungkook outside.
Probably calling the cops, taking down your registration—whatever the fuck. You could already imagine the panic on Jeon Co.’s PR team’s faces when they caught wind of this fuck fest of a night.
You finally let go of Jungkook’s arm when you got outside, your hand diving into your purse for his car keys. He followed close behind, silent but simmering with rage, as you both made your way to his car. It was parked right next to the entrance—definitely not in an actual spot—but he clearly didn’t care. He’d probably left it there to get to you faster.
As soon as the cold air hit your face and you and Jungkook were away from everyone, it’s like all your anger from earlier flooded right back.
You marched straight toward the driver’s seat, just wanting to get the hell out of there, but before you could reach for the door handle, Jungkook’s bruised hand snaked around your waist and pulled you back against him. He plucked the keys from your hand with ease, scoffing under his breath as he ushered you toward the passenger side.
"Give me the fucking keys, Jungkook—"
He let out a dark, humorless laugh. "First of all, you’ve been drinking. Don’t be fucking stupid. Second of all, why do you sound like you’re mad at me? I’m mad at you!"
"I had a fucking lemonade, I didn’t drink, you psycho!" you snapped, spinning on your heel to face him. "And, I’m sorry, mad at me?" You shoved his hand off your stomach and made a grab for the keys, but he slipped them into his pocket, resting his hand right over them like he was daring you to try.
"You’re the one who just went ape-shit and beat half the bar to a fucking pulp!"
"Don’t be dramatic," he rolled his eyes, leaning casually against the car like he hadn’t just trashed multiple people inside.
"You just fucking—"
He narrowed his eyes dangerously. "And why am I here in the first place, Y/N?"
"Oh, I don’t know," you snapped back, voice dripping with sarcasm. "Maybe because you’re a—"
You cut yourself off this time, catching the slight arch of his brows—just a fraction.
His head tilted, that infuriating smirk tugging at his lips.
"I’m a what, baby?" His voice was low, amused, taunting.
You squinted at him, but he just waited, utterly patient, like he had all the time in the world.
"I’m a what?"
Your eyes rolled to the sky in frustration, and you turned your back on him, yanking on the door handle in frustration. But of course, it was locked. You didn’t even bother looking back at him.
"Open the door, Jungkook."
"Sure," he jingled the keys in his pocket with infuriating calmness, "When you finish your sentence. I’m a what?"
You glared over your shoulder at him, biting back a snarl as your eyes raked down his stupidly gorgeous frame. Tousled hair, the top two buttons of his dress shirt sluttily popped open, bruised and bloody hands casually tucked into the pockets of his designer slacks. So fucking annoying.
"You," you started, eyes narrowing as you stepped back. "Are sleeping alone tonight." You punctuated it with a sarcastic smile before pushing off the car and storming down the street toward your own.
The second you started walking, you heard his footsteps trailing after you like a shadow. You just shook your head, your tone clipped as you bit out, "Go home, Jungkook. Your home. I’m sleeping at my own place tonight."
"Mm, and how do you plan on getting there?" His voice followed, calm—too calm.
"Hmm, take a wild fucking guess, genius," you snapped, diving back into your purse to grab your keys. But your hand came up empty.
"Mother fucker," you hissed, spinning around to find yourself face-to-face with his broad chest. You took a breath, glaring up at him. "Give me my keys."
"When you finish what you were saying," he replied lowly.
You scoffed, incredulous. "You’ll give me my keys and let me drive home if I finish my sentence?" You almost laughed in his face, knowing damn well he was full of shit.
"No," he shrugged, his honesty almost infuriating, "but I still want you to say it."
You groaned, exasperated. "Why is it so important to you—"
"Everything you say is important to me." His tone was unflinchingly direct. "And I want to know what you think of me."
For a split second, your heart tugged at his words, even as the anger bubbling in your chest fought to take over.
You weren’t mad at him for going in there and smashing that dirty sleaze’s head into the counter. You weren’t mad that he had taken on the Goliath twins like a reckless maniac with no concern for his own well-being.
You were mad because he lied to you.
"A liar." The words slipped from your lips, quiet but cutting, your eyes locking with his.
The flicker of pain that flashed across his gaze was immediate. He hadn’t been expecting that. He had braced himself for you to call him a possessive jerk, a jealous asshole, even a fucking loser. But not that.
"Baby," Jungkook swallowed, his beaten hands slowly gliding down to caress the sides of the dress he both loved and hated seeing you in. "I’m so sorry."
"Yeah," you nodded, rolling your eyes as you turned your head away just as he tried to lean down for a kiss. "Always are, huh?"
"Please, don’t," he sighed softly, his breath warm against your neck as his nose nuzzled into your skin. It was hard to believe this was the same man who had buried his fist into a guy’s jaw just five minutes ago. “I would never leave your side if I didn’t have to. You know that. You have to know that.”
"And you just had to stay back tonight of all nights?" Your words were sharp, cutting. "Couldn’t get one of your two fucking assistants to carry some of the workload? Or maybe that slut from level 7 who’s always begging to take some stress off her ‘big, hunky, hardworking boss?’"
Jungkook let out a low chuckle, nipping at your neck in amusement when you imitated Heejin’s voice. She hadn’t ever said anything quite that bold—obviously. You would’ve had him fire her on the spot if she had. But her lingering glances, the way she was always offering herself up for extra tasks, the way she hovered around… yeah, her actions spoke louder than words, and it made your blood fucking boil.
"Our board meeting ran way overtime, and they sprung last-minute critical amendments on us for the Cypher Project, baby," he mumbled into your skin, his lips brushing along the curve of your neck. "You know no one else could’ve handled it, or I would’ve been out of there."
"Okay." You nodded, lips pressing together as you let him kiss your neck for a while, but your mind was still racing.
"Okay?" he echoed in a hum, his mouth moving lower, pressing another soft kiss just above your collarbone. He sounded almost suspicious at how easily you seemed to be dropping the argument.
"Okay," you repeated, still letting him kiss you, your body slightly relaxing under his touch.
He hummed again, but then something clicked. No. This was too easy. You were never this quick to drop an argument. There wasn’t nearly enough groveling.
"Baby—"
Before he could finish, your hand shot into his left pocket, snatching the keys and shoving him you off with your other hand. He stumbled back, eyes wide with surprise as he barely caught his balance. You didn’t wait around to see him recover; you just turned and headed straight for your car.
Of course, he followed.
"Baby, come on—"
You didn’t stop, your pace quickening as you adjusted your handbag on your shoulder. "Nope. Don’t care."
"Baby, I'm fucking sorry."
"Uh-huh," you muttered, clicking the button to unlock your car before yanking the door open. He was right behind you, still trying.
“You’re not seriously leaving me right now, are you?”
You shot him a cold glance, leaning on the car door. “Yep. Maybe you should call Heejin—see if she’s free tonight. She can keep my side of the bed warm,” you spat, sliding into the driver’s seat.
His jaw ticked, tongue poking at the side of his cheek as he leaned back, letting you slam the door in his face. The engine roared to life, filling the thick silence between you two, but he didn’t even flinch. Instead, he nodded, something dark flashing in his eyes as his teeth toyed with his lip ring.
“You know I’m just gonna follow you, right?” His low voice carried through the glass, calm as ever.
You rolled your eyes, throwing the car into gear and pulling out of the lot.
But you weren’t the least bit surprised when, just a few moments later, you caught sight of his car pulling out right behind you.
He was home before you.
Not that you were surprised. You had gotten the doorbell alert two streets over, and it only made you scoff, your foot easing off the gas as you slowed down even more, wanting to make him wait. You had briefly considered going to Jimin’s for the night, but you knew better. Even though Jungkook had a soft spot for his assistant, there was no way in hell he’d let you sleep over at another guy’s house, and you weren't about to drag Jimin into that.
Sliding out of your car, you said nothing, grabbing your coat and purse from the passenger seat before locking it. Jungkook was already perched on your front doorstep, his head snapping up the second your tires crunched against the driveway.
“Baby, I need you to turn your location back on. I get it. You made your point—”
“Don’t start, Jungkook.” You sighed, your heels clicking against the stone steps as you brushed past him to unlock the front door.
You didn’t even bother closing the door behind you as you walked in, knowing he was right behind, the sound of it clicking shut as he locked it for you. Your purse and coat landed carelessly on the hallway table, and your fingers instinctively massaged the soreness creeping up the side of your neck. Without a word, Jungkook crouched down and slipped off your heels, lining them up neatly next to his shoes.
It was late, and the exhaustion that had been chasing you all night was finally sinking in. Your body ached, your mind was running on fumes, and all you really wanted was to crawl into bed and sleep. But something in the air told you that wasn’t happening any time soon. Whether it would be another argument, angry makeup sex, or another night of kicking Jungkook to the couch—only to lie sleepless for an hour before dragging his ass back to your bed—you weren’t sure yet.
Your steps were slow as you made your way to the bathroom, flicking the light on before leaning heavily against the sink. You cracked your neck, your eyes closing for a brief moment as the exhaustion took over.
You didn’t even flinch when Jungkook’s chest pressed against your back, his strong arms slipping around you as he reached for the faucet to wash his hands. The water ran pinkish, swirling down the drain as it cleared the blood and dirt from his knuckles, but you weren’t concerned. He knew how to throw a punch safely—years of boxing and training made sure of that. This was very mild compared to the damage he’d done in the early days of your relationship. Back then, you’d spent more time getting him unbanned from clubs than actually enjoying them.
He dried his hands slowly, taking his time before reaching for one of your hair ties on the counter. His fingers worked through your hair, gathering it into a loose ponytail.
You were far too drained to even consider pushing him away—not that you would’ve, even if you weren’t. Upset? Sure. But truly mad? Not really.
You knew exactly what you were getting into when you fell for a wildly successful, young CEO. Long nights, last-minute cancellations, missed plans—it was the nature of his world. Normally, you accepted it. But tonight had been different. Tonight was supposed to be one of the rare, precious evenings you finally had time to spend together after months of clashing schedules. You’d planned for it, gotten excited about it, and then… it was ruined. So, yeah, you were pissed.
But at the same time, you understood. The Cypher Project was monumental for Jeon Corp. Jungkook had poured nearly a year of blood, sweat, and no sleep into it. It was his baby, and only a handful of people were allowed anywhere near it—his assistants, his CCO, and you. This project mattered. But god, you missed him.
This, though? This was just typical Jeon Jungkook groveling. He’d pamper you, apologize at least a thousand times, buy you another bag or three, and then fuck you until you couldn’t remember why you were mad in the first place. The order of events varied; the bags sometimes took a day or two to arrive.
Once your hair was up, he gently spun you around and lifted you onto the bathroom counter. Your eyes remained shut as he moved between your legs, his long arms reaching for your skincare products. You didn’t have to tell him anything—he knew your routine better than you did at this point.
Before he got started, you cracked one eye open, just for a moment, grabbing his right hand and holding it softly in your lap. Your thumb traced over his knuckles, following the tiny splits. One was still bleeding slightly, while the other looked like it would be bruising by morning.
“Getting better, baby. Barely any blood this time,” you hummed, lifting his hand to your lips and pressing a gentle kiss to his knuckles before closing your eyes again, waiting.
He smiled at that, though you couldn’t see it. The weight of the towel settled on your lap, and his hand left yours, resting lightly on your chest as he leaned you down, cupping warm water from the sink to wet your face. You stayed still, letting him move through the motions, only shifting when he needed you to. His touch was precise but gentle as he massaged the cleanser into your skin.
Your toes wiggled absentmindedly on either side of his thighs, tapping softly against him while he moved through your products, handling each one with practiced ease.
Jungkook was quiet for a moment before he finally spoke.
"I want to move in with you."
You didn’t open your eyes—mostly because your face was covered in toner—but the way your feet stopped swinging and your eyebrows shot up said everything.
“Well, that’s one way to grovel,” you muttered under your breath, leaning down blindly to rinse your face. Jungkook cupped his hand, helping you wash off the spots you missed before gently wiping your face dry with the towel. He pressed a quick kiss to your lips through the fabric.
Cute, you thought.
“Gross,” you mumbled, the faintest smile tugging at your lips.
He didn’t respond, just slipped his hands down your bare legs, wrapping them securely around his waist. You tugged the towel down and blinked up at his pretty face. He just stood there, quiet, watching you. Waiting.
"Are you waiting for something?" you asked, raising an eyebrow.
He bit his lip, barely concealing a smile. “Hmm. Is that how you’re going to be?”
“I don’t know what you mean…”
“So your answer is no, then.” He hummed.
“My answer is nothing because you didn’t ask me a question,” you retorted, brattily swatting his bum with your foot, the light tap making him smirk.
“It’s going to happen eventually,” he said, his tone certain, almost mocking, as he leaned down to brush his lips against yours. His hand caught your ankle, stopping your wandering toe from getting too close to the no-go zone. Well, except that one ti—
“May as well get it out of the way, baby.”
“Oh,” you laughed, amusement coloring your voice as you unwrapped your legs from his waist, resting them on the counter. “Glad you consider the next step in our relationship something we should just get out of the way.”
His eyes sparkled with amusement as he pulled your legs back down, positioning himself firmly between them again, his hands settling possessively on your thighs. “You know what I mean,” he murmured, his voice dipping into a low growl.
“You already know I’d do anything with you, baby,” you sighed, rolling your eyes as your feet lifted back up to drum lightly against his bum. “But I’m annoyed that you asked me this right after an argument. You’re just doing what you think will make me happy—”
The cold, metallic sensation on your thigh interrupted your sentence. Frowning, you glanced down to see his tattooed hand resting on your skin, something small and cool pressed beneath his palm.
Your brows furrowed. “Move your hand, Kookie.”
He didn’t move, his gaze locking with yours. His eyes were serious—more serious than you’d seen in a long while. And that was saying something. Jungkook was always confident, always certain about your relationship, but this… this was different.
“Y/N,” he said softly, his tongue flicking at his lip ring.
“Yes?” you asked, your voice softening as your finger reached up to gently swat his tongue away before you adjusted his lip ring back into place.
“You know how much I love you, right? Like, really know how in love with you I am?” His voice was so genuine, his eyes searching yours intently.
Your head tilted slightly as you swallowed the urge to tease him. The feeling of that little cool object under his palm had your mind racing. You already knew exactly what it was, and if you’d been wearing underwear right now, they’d be fucking soaked.
“I do,” you nodded just as seriously, your hands resting on the counter on either side of your thighs as you leaned forward, waiting for his pouty lips to meet yours. He didn’t make you wait long, leaning down immediately, humming as you gently suckled on his tongue and over his lip ring before pulling back.
“I know, baby. I feel it every day." You spoke against his lips, giving them a soft peck before pulling back a little, "I’m so lucky to have you all to myself. I love you just as much, my darling. I hope you know that.”
“I do, baby.” He nodded, leaning down to brush his pretty nose against yours. “You’re it for me, angel. There’s no one after you. That, I know.”
“Mmh,” you grunted in delight, your nose scrunching as your hand snaked around the back of his neck, pulling him down to your lips, hard.
Jungkook melted into you instantly, his hands finding their way up your body as he kissed you with the kind of need that made your entire body hum. His fingers curled into the back of your hair, pulling you deeper into the kiss, and you moaned softly against his mouth, just as his hands moved lower.
“Oh my god,” you mumbled, breaking the kiss suddenly as your eyes dropped to the now-uncovered little piece of metal resting on your thigh.
Tears welled up in your eyes the moment you saw it. Your hand darted down, snatching up the now-warm key like it was made of glass, your fingers trembling as you inspected it. This wasn’t a key to his penthouse—you already had one of those.
This was new. Bigger. And turning you the fuck on.
Jungkook's bunny teeth grazed his lip ring, a rare flicker of hesitation crossing his face as he watched you silently. Jeon Jungkook didn’t get nervous. He was rich, successful, gorgeous, and had the hottest girl he had ever seen in his life all to himself. But even he couldn’t deny that his heart was beating a little fast, or whatever.
“Baby, fuck," you choked out, your brows furrowing as the tears threatened to spill over. You looked up at him, still clutching the key. "You fucking... ugh!"
Your hand gripped the collar of his shirt, yanking him back down to you. You kissed him again, deep and needy, your lips crashing against his with a desperation you couldn’t quite name.
"Love me that much, hm?" you mumbled between kisses, your voice husky, body arching into him as his tattooed hands slid down your sides, long fingers squeezing around the soft flesh. "Bought me a fucking house, huh, baby?"
Jungkook’s smirk brushed against your lips, so cocky, so him. “Well, I’m not fucking renting it.”
A loud laugh bubbled out of you, muffled by his mouth still pressed against yours. It was cut short when his tongue slipped past your parted lips, hot and familiar, moving with practiced ease.
His tongue... fuck, with the number of times and places you’d had it in your body, you were sure you could pick it out from a lineup blindfolded. Skilled, wet, with that lingering touch of cigarette. Fucking perfect.
You grunted against his mouth, your hand blindly reaching to set the key on the counter without pulling away. “Told you to stop smoking.”
“Told you to get fucked,” he hummed back, his words vibrating on your tongue as his hands slid from your hips to your ass, gripping hard enough to make you gasp before pulling you flush against his growing bulge.
“Cunt,” you giggled, your fingers tangling around the back of his neck, pulling him in deeper, your tongue chasing that smoky flavor as heat pulsed between your legs. The softest whine escaped your lips as you swallowed his taste.
“Bitch,” he mumbled lowly, tattooed fingers giving a dirty squeeze to your ass, brows furrowing in delight as his hips ground into yours, the thick, hard length of him pressing between your thighs. Even through the layers of fabric, the friction sent a needy throb straight to your clit.
Your nails scratched lightly against the nape of his neck, and just as you were about to bite down on his tongue, he suddenly pulled back, leaving your lips parted in a confused pout.
“What?” you whined, trying to tug him back down to your mouth, but he wasn’t budging. His eyes were locked in place.
On your crotch.
Oh.
“Y/N.” His voice dropped, deeper, more dangerous.
“Yes, my love?” you blinked innocently, tugging at the collar of his shirt. He didn’t move.
“Are you not wearing fucking panties?”
“Um,” you pursed your lips, pretending to think. “Would you believe me if I said I was?”
Your boyfriend scoffed sorely, giving a bitter nod before peeling himself from you completely and walking out of the bathroom.
You sat there for a second, blinking, frowning at the sight of him walking away, watching how the thick muscles in his back rippled beneath his shirt. God, you just wanted to run your tongue over every inch of that perfect, sinful skin, remembering all the times you had gotten off just by riding that big fucking back—
Shit.
“Baby!” you called after him with a pout, hopping off the counter and ignoring the sticky feeling between your thighs as your feet hit the floor. You wobbled slightly, legs stiff from sitting too long. With a quick kiss to the key resting beside the sink, you dropped it into your jewelry case and scurried after your angry boyfriend.
“Kookie, hold on…” The sound of your footsteps echoed down the hallway, needy and impatient.
This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. You were really pissed when he canceled, okay, and so you did the one thing you knew would get under his skin... going commando in public when he wasn’t around.
You fully expected him to find out at the bar or during some angry foreplay at home. Then, he’d get all sexy, possessive, and you’d end up screaming his name so loud your neighbors would complain again.
But not like this. Not after he’d been so gentle, taking your makeup off with soft, careful touches. Not after he’d just given you the key to the fucking house he bought for the two of you! He was probably feeling all soft and vulnerable, having just taken such a big step in your relationship...
You know, people didn’t really get it—but deep down, your boyfriend was just a big, cuddly teddy bear. Sure, a teddy bear with like three assault charges, but that’s besides the point.
God. Fuck, fuck, fuck!
Jungkook didn’t stop. He rounded the corner into your bedroom, shoulders stiff, jaw clenched.
You followed him in, flicking on the light just in time to see him unbuttoning his shirt, quietly tugging it free from where it had been tucked into his slacks. His back was to you, standing near your vanity, jaw tight with restraint, anger radiating off him in waves.
The muscles in his broad shoulders flexed as you stepped closer, your palms sliding up the expanse of his back.
"Baby, I'm—"
"Don't." His voice was low, firm—a quiet command cutting off any apology on the tip of your tongue. He pulled his shirt off, tossing it over the chair beside him before his hand moved to his belt, the metallic clink sounding sharper in the silence of the room.
You sighed softly, pressing a kiss to his warm, bare shoulder, the skin still taut with tension. Your forehead rested against his back as your arms wrapped around his waist, holding him close. “Are you mad at me?”
"Mhm." He scoffed, pulling his belt through the loops and throwing it onto the growing pile of clothes.
Without a word, he shrugged off your hold, his back stiff as he walked over to your dresser. Opening the middle drawer, he pulled out one of his shirts, and without even looking back at you, he held it out.
You didn’t hesitate, taking it from his hand. He didn’t need to say anything—Jungkook never wore shirts to bed. Your fingers slipped behind your back, tugging down the zipper of your dress before you let the fabric fall in a pool at your feet.
His eyes caught your movement in the mirror, and he scoffed softly, watching as you unclasped your bra. The bra slipped down, the absence of panties now glaringly obvious. His expression tightened as you slid his shirt over your head, the oversized fabric falling to mid-thigh.
Jungkook unbuttoned his slacks in silence, shoving them off until he stood in just his briefs. He bent down, gathering both of your discarded clothes before disappearing into the bathroom to toss them into the hamper.
You heard the water running as you pulled the band from your hair and padded toward the bathroom, wanting to brush your teeth too. But before you could enter, he stepped out, his tall frame blocking the doorway.
"Get in bed," he said sternly, leaving no room for argument.
You pouted but turned around, dragging your feet toward the bed. From the way he flicked off the light behind you, it was clear you weren’t getting dicked down tonight. Jungkook always kept the lights on when he was fucking you—he liked to see everything properly. You frowned as you crawled under the covers.
"My love," you started softly, watching his back as he climbed into bed, turning to face the window. He didn’t respond. "Baby, please—"
"I’m so fucking angry," he finally spoke, his voice low, thick with frustration. Your hand raked over the tattoos covering his tense arm as you scooted closer, your fingertips tracing the ink in the way you always did to calm him down.
"Turn around and go to sleep," he grumbled, laced with warning.
"Can’t sleep when you’re mad at me. You know that," you whined softly, shuffling closer until you were pressed against his back, your leg draping over his waist, pulling yourself into his space.
He tensed under your touch but didn’t push you away.
You nuzzled into him, your cheek resting on his shoulder, hand tracing gentle patterns along his side. "Talk to me, baby," you whispered, your voice soft, pleading. "Please."
"You knew it would piss me off. I don’t know why you’re surprised—"
"Yeah, but I thought it would be like sexy, possessive, fuck me into the mattress mad…" Your words were muffled as your lips brushed against the warmth of his back, speaking directly into his skin. “I didn’t expect you to ask me to move in with you, baby—”
"So, if I didn’t," he interrupted, tugging the blanket over his shoulder, brushing you off in the process. "You wouldn’t be sorry at all?"
You frowned, pulling the blanket back down and reclaiming your spot, pressing yourself against him again.
“Not really,” you admitted, lips finding the little heart tattoo on his shoulder blade that he’d let you needle into him. You pressed a gentle kiss to it, your voice softening into a playful coo. “Was really mad at you. But then you were all stupidly cute and you bought us a fucking houseee, baby.”
Your fingers curled around his bare side, your kisses turning into quick, playful pecks across the tattoo. "And now I am very..." You pressed another kiss to his skin, “sorry.” Kiss. “My love.” Kiss.
He shifted slightly, his body tense but responsive to your touch. You knew you were getting to him, your lips soft against his inked skin, your tone low and slow. His jaw tightened, but he didn’t stop you, not entirely immune to the way your kisses trailed over his back, or the way your fingers skimmed down his side.
“You think you can just kiss me and make it better?” His voice was still low, but there was something softer creeping into it, the edges of his anger starting to blur under your touch.
You gazed affectionately at your softie's back, a smile playing on your lips as you rubbed your nose over the tattoo. “Maybe,” you hummed. “But I can do a little more than kiss you, if that's not enough…” you whispered, your hand trailing lower, brushing just above the waistband of his briefs.
He let out a small, frustrated sigh, but his body betrayed him—muscles relaxing slightly under your touch.
“Brat,” he muttered under his breath, shifting his position to lie on his back, allowing the blanket to slide down his body and reveal his broad, toned chest.
A soft, approving grunt left your lips as you shamelessly drank in the view, your eyes lingering on your favorite tattoo, scribbled prettily across his chest.
You’ve always been vocal about your love for Jungkook’s tattoos—they’re one of your favorite things about him. Some hold more meaning than others, but they're all breathtakingly beautiful. Honestly, with the number of times your nails have raked down his skin while he takes you like an untamed force, you’d think the ink would’ve rubbed off by now.
But your favorite? The tattoo nestled right below his left, perfectly pink nipple.
Your name.
You’ve never been one for tattoos on yourself, and you know people have all sorts of opinions about getting your partner’s name etched into your skin—a curse, they say. But when Jungkook told you, not asked, told you that he was going to get your name tattooed on him, you'd never dropped to your knees so fast in your life.
You were both lounging lazily on his couch, enjoying one of those rare days off, when he told you the news. The next twelve hours were spent on his lap, with the couch left in a state that required professional cleaning. Jungkook was very upset when you had it cleaned while he was at work, but you made it up to him.
By telling him you wanted one too.
You could already picture your sweet Christian mother rolling in her grave at the thought of you getting a tattoo, let alone your boyfriend’s name—the same boyfriend who’s done things to you no amount of repentance could ever erase. But it’s okay. You planned to get it in a place she wouldn’t see, wherever she’s watching from.
When you told Jungkook about your plan to get matching ink, it led to the second most tender and passionate sex you’d ever had—the first being the day you both said “I love you” for the first time. He's a sap like that.
You were supposed to get "Jungkook" etched onto your inner thigh, but the moment the needle touched your skin, you knew there was no way in hell you were sitting through all eight letters. So, you settled for "JK." Still adorable, and you loved it. So did he.
He’s obsessed with it, sometimes spending hours suckling on the ink. He’ll fall asleep with his head in your lap, the tattooed skin nestled in his mouth like a pacifier. His hand gravitates there when you're out to dinner with friends, resting directly on the spot if you're wearing a skirt, over your jeans if you're not.
Jungkook, of course, got your entire first name and let you pick where it would go. He only had one condition: it had to be on the front of his body—somewhere on his chest or maybe his thigh. When you asked why, he simply said he wasn’t getting any other tattoos there. That space was only for you.
You immediately picked the spot under your favorite nipple of his, and rode him into the sunset right after.
Angel isn’t a word most people—well, any people—would use to describe Jeon Jungkook. But for you, it’s that simple.
He’s your angel. Your short-tempered, jealous, possessive, fiery-fisted angel. For forever and then some.
Despite your boyfriend's irritated expression, you could sense the familiar heat building up in him, causing his eyes to darken and his teeth to tug on his lip rings unconsciously. You felt yourself clench around nothing at the sight.
God, you were down so bad.
A sly grin tugged at your lips as you shifted, sliding your leg over his waist to straddle him, your bare heat pressing flush against the hard bulge straining beneath his briefs. A soft, satisfied hum escaped your throat as you leaned down, letting your lips graze along the sharp line of his jaw.
“Thought you liked your bitches bratty,” you murmured, the words brushing against his lip rings. You kissed your way slowly, deliberately down his neck. “Heard Heejin can get real mouthy.”
“Hm, she’s not usually that bad around me,” he said, his tone casual, almost playful. His tattooed fingers slipped beneath the hem of your shirt, tracing lazily along your sides. “Then again, her mouth is usually otherwise occupied.”
Your lips froze mid-kiss against his neck, the heat in the room shifting as a bubbling wave of jealousy swirled low in your stomach. You knew he was only matching your teasing with his own, but it didn’t stop the image from forming—Heejin, beneath you, as you straddled her in this exact position. Only this time, you weren’t smirking. This time, your hands gripped a pillow, pressing it down firmly until her frantic kicks finally stilled.
You recovered quickly, trailing your kisses lower down his chest. “Yeah?” you bit, voice tight as you continued kissing along his skin. “She suck your cock just the way you like it, baby?”
Jungkook swallowed a shiver as you slid down his body, your mouth hovering over his chest. The tension between you thickened as your teeth grazed his nipple, your tongue darting out just enough to tease.
“Yeah,” he answered, voice strained as he felt your hot breath fan over him. “She’s real sloppy with it. Bit surprising, considering she acts like a fucking church girl in the office—”
You waited until his nipple hardened from the sensation of your breath before biting down, hard, sinking your teeth into the sensitive skin.
His reaction was instant—a sharp hiss slipping through his clenched teeth as his fingers dug into your sides on instinct, gripping you hard enough to leave marks.
His hips jerked up against you, the friction sending a spark through your core as he tried to suppress the groan building in his throat at your obvious stake to claim. His restraint was fading, and you couldn't fucking wait.
You followed up with a soft lick, soothing the now-red nub before lowering your mouth to press a wet, possessive kiss over your tattoo on his chest.
“Sorry,” you mumbled insincerely, pulling back just enough to lock eyes with him.
Jungkook’s gaze was fiery, narrowed as he looked up at you, but you could see the way his breath quickened, his stomach contracting deliciously beneath your bare heat that he was affected.
The grip on your hips tightened, pulling you down harder as he let out a low warning. "Careful, baby."
You smiled small, dragging your nails lightly over his abdomen as you trailed back up his body. “Sorry, baby. Hyungwon used to love it when I did that—"
You didn’t get to finish your sentence before Jungkook was flipping you onto your back, his hands gripping your wrists and pinning them above your head. The look in his eyes was dark, jaw clenched tight as he loomed over you.
If there was one thing that drove Jungkook over the edge, it was when you mentioned your ex.
"Think you're so funny, hm?" His voice dropped low, a dangerous edge creeping in as his grip on your wrists tightened slightly, his gaze darkening as it scanned your face. You could feel the shift—he was serious now.
You pouted up at him, a small smile still playing on your lips. “Just being honest, love. Hyungwon’s left nipple was really sensitive—”
A deep scoff reverberated from Jungkook’s chest, his fingers tightening their hold just enough to send a shiver down your spine. He leaned down, his nose brushing yours as his jaw clenched.
"If you ever comp—" he stopped abruptly, his breath unsteady, voice shaking with barely-contained rage at being compared to the guy he’d nearly put into a coma the last time he laid eyes on him. His jaw clenched, tongue sliding over the inside of his cheek as he glared down at you. "Say his name again, Y/N. I fucking dare you."
You don't know why you did it.
Maybe you lacked survival instincts. Or maybe it was because you were wetter than the fucking Atlantic.
Oh well. Too late now.
"Hyungw—"
You barely got through the first syllable before you were flipped onto your stomach, your cheek pressed into the mattress, the sudden force of the movement knocking the air from your lungs.
A grunt escaped your lips, your head tilting just enough to catch your breath. You could barely contain the smile threatening to spread across your face, your bottom lip caught between your teeth as a thrill of excitement raced through your veins.
Fucking finally.
Jungkook’s weight vanished from the bed, and though every nerve in your body screamed at you to move, you knew better. You had been here before, too many times to count. Sitting up to look at him would earn you more than just punishment—it would leave you edged and begging for release until you were a writhing, pathetic mess. Normally, you’d relish every second of that torture, but right now you were too fucking soaked and too fucking needy to drag this out any longer. You haven't had his cock inside you since before he left your place for work this morning.
And that was like… seventeen fucking hours ago!
Your body thrummed with anticipation, the ache between your thighs pulsing as you stayed perfectly still, hands flat at your sides. You nuzzled deeper into the pillow with a pleased hum, toes wiggling in eager impatience.
Then came the sound you were waiting for.
He was back behind you, the loud click of the belt buckle confirming it. "'M getting too soft on you, baby." His voice was low, dark.
The mattress dipped beneath his weight, and you felt the cold brush of the belt against your bare thighs, the sensation jolting straight to your core.
You bit down harder on your lip, resisting the urge to respond. You knew that would only make it worse. And better.
"Let you ignore my texts," he hummed, the belt dragging slowly up the curve of your legs, making you squirm involuntarily under his touch.
"Let you walk around with no fucking panties," he growled, his hands pulling up the hem of his shirt so your body was fully exposed to him. You immediately gripped the fabric, holding it tight so it stayed in place, eager to feel the weight of his eyes on your bare skin.
"Bought you a fucking house."
He rested the belt on your waist, a promise of what was to come, then his fingers trailed lower, sliding exactly where you wanted them. He gripped your ass, spreading your cheeks just enough to let you feel the warm brush of his fingers against your slick heat.
"This what you wanted, baby?" His voice was a low, mocking drawl, dripping with condescension. "You want me to fuck you like the needy little slut you are?"
A helpless whimper escaped your lips, your thighs parting instinctively at his words, betraying the desperation that throbbed through every inch of your body.
It was fucked, really—how easily he could lead you into this hazy, trance-like state with just a few words. In everyday life, you were lippy, hot-headed, the kind of person who would never let anyone walk all over you without a fight.
But with Jungkook? When he controlled you, when he degraded you, it never left you feeling small, not like other inferior men from your past who only managed to make you feel amused or bored.
With Jungkook, it was different. The way he commanded you, as twisted as it was, it made you feel seen. Wanted. Like you were exactly where you needed to be—in his hands, under his control. All you desired was to surrender completely, to let him take and take until there was nothing left.
Maybe you were biased, considering you loved the man currently smirking wickedly above you with every fiber of your being, but who cared? He owned you, and god, did you love every second of it.
Jungkook hummed, his fingers sliding through your wetness, gathering it slowly. You could hear the smirk in his voice. "So wet just from running that fucking mouth of yours, huh?"
Your breath hitched, every nerve firing as he lifted a hand to press lightly on the buckle resting on your back, the pressure sending a delicious ache radiating through you. You could already imagine the sting it would leave, the thought alone making you drip.
Then, his hand trailed back down your side, leaving the belt untouched and useless on your back. You bit back a disappointed grunt.
"All leaky and achy just from imagining Heejin-ah with my cock in her mouth, baby?" His taunt was biting, and you couldn���t stop the irritated noise that bubbled from your throat. He deliberately added the friendly honorific to get a rise out of you. And it worked.
"Oh?" Jungkook's laughter was filled with malice as he lightly traced his thumb over your folds for the briefest of seconds, not enough to satisfy, not even close.
"You don’t like it when I talk about other girls having me like you have me, huh? Not so fun is it, baby?"
His thumb brushed against your clit, fleeting, fast, gone before you could even register the sensation. Your hips bucked, chasing after the contact you craved, but he was already pulling away.
"Funny that," he mused before his tone turned menacingly low. "Because you sure as hell like talking about that boring fucking cuck a bit too much for my liking."
With the last remnants of your composure, you opened your mouth, ready to fire back one last bratty comment. Maybe the lord was on your side, though, because before you could get a word out, Jungkook cut you off.
"Color."
The retort died on your tongue, and before you even processed it, the response was out.
"Bright fucking green."
Jungkook’s mouth came down hot and harsh, his evil tongue licking a fat stripe right down your soaking slit. He took one of your ass cheeks in each hand, parting them effortlessly. You felt more than heard the deep inhale and exhale over your cunt as he dipped his nose into it like a dog would do to their water bowl on a hot fucking day.
Your breathing turned erratic, and your hands curled into fists to stop yourself from grabbing his head and forcing him deeper into your pussy. The way his tongue moved so deliberately, so lazily, only heightened the tension coiling tight in your core. When he had his fill of dragging his nose up and down your slit, his mouth latched onto your clit, slurping it up like it was his last fucking meal.
Your back arched, a strangled moan ripping from your lips as your fingers clawed at your sheets, trying to clutch onto any last thread of sanity. The grip on your ass tightened, keeping you wide open as he went at you with a brutal pace. Your thighs trembled around his head, your hole fluttering at the pleasure he was delivering to your clit. He was relentless, taking out all his anger and frustration on your poor little pussy.
Your cunt couldn’t keep up with him. It was dripping, soaking your boyfriend's face faster than he could lap it up, coating his chin and dripping down to the sheets beneath you. He groaned into your pussy, a low, dirty sound that vibrated right through your core.
"Ah! Fuck baby," you sobbed, burying your face further into the mattress. "Ngh-fuckkk!"
He didn't stop, tongue noisily sucking and flicking at your clit. Then his hand lifted and came down hard on your right ass cheek, the sharp slap sending a jolt straight through you. It ripped a moan from your throat and you forced yourself not to ask for another one.
"Not my name right now," he pulled back enough to scoff.
Before you could respond, Jungkook’s hands were already on you, shifting your body until you were holding yourself up on your hands and knees, your weight settled into doggy position.
He let out a low hum in approval before wasting no time and burying his mouth back into your heat, tongue sliding up and down viciously through your sopping folds.
“Ah-uhhh! Yes, daddy, oh my godddd,” you cried out, your eyes rolling back, hips bucking as his nose pressed deeper into your pussy.
He moaned into you, the vibration rippling through you as his tongue trailed slowly toward the entrance of your weepy hole.
Your evil fucking boyfriend hovered there for a moment, pretending to tease the tight muscle before his lips gave a big, harsh suck. The sound echoed in your ears as he slurped up as much of your slick as he could, coating his tongue before shoving it right into your clenching hole.
“Ah!” Your scream tore raw from your throat, your nails digging sorely into the mattress. His free hand slid up your body, four fingers pressing into the top of your ass cheeks, gripping you with possessive strength, while his thumb found your swollen clit, rubbing it in big, messy circles.
"Daddy -ah! Oh my fuckkk yes, eat your fucking pussy daddy, goddd."
Jungkook groaned lowly into you, eyes fluttering closed as he relished in the taste of the sweetest pussy he's ever had and will ever have in his life. He was manic as he drank from it, slurped at it, rubbed it all over his dirty fucking face. The wet sounds of his tongue pistoning into your hole, his finger sliding over your soppy clit, your fucked-out whimpers while you screamed for your Daddy.
Music to his fucking ears.
Your legs shook, elbows digging into the mattress as you forced yourself to keep form. If it weren't for your boyfriend's firm hand pressed against your stomach, holding you up, you both know you'd be face down on the mattress again.
Jungkook felt the tension in your belly beneath his palm and he knew you were getting close. He let you writhe for a few more seconds before slowing his movements, slipping his tongue from your hole and pressing a kiss to the pretty, puffed outer lips. He gave a wet suckle to your pebbled clit on his way out and finally pulled back with a loud smacking sound.
As much as the whiny cry you let out when he pulled away made his already aching cock throb harder in his briefs, he needed both hands for what he was about to do to you. And you knew it.
His bunny teeth poked out to graze against your inner left thigh, pussy-coated lips puckering to press a soft kiss over the ink that bore his name. Then, his hand pulled back and landed a quick smack on your right thigh, the light sting spreading instantly across your skin.
You understood immediately, a strained groan slipping from your lips as you rolled onto your back, head sinking into the pillow.
The belt buckle had been digging into your skin, so you quickly pulled it from beneath you, tossing it beside you on the bed. Your feet pressed into the mattress, knees bending as your legs spread open once more, leaving your glistening pussy on full display—just the way he taught you.
"Mm," Jungkook hummed approvingly, his eyes raking over your body with that look of dark satisfaction. His hand drifted to his cock, now uncomfortably hard, and gave it a rough palm through the fabric.
When his gaze paused at your chest, where his shirt had slipped back down to cover your breasts, you knew what to do.
But you didn't want to take it off… it was your favorite.
Instead, you tugged the fabric higher, pulling it up over your tits, shuddering as the material grazed over your sensitive nipples. Your tongue darted out to wet your lips before you bit down lightly on the hem, holding it in place between your teeth.
Jungkook let out a low, dirty groan, his fingers trailing up your thighs, giving the soft flesh a possessive squeeze. "Good girl, baby."
"Thank you, daddy," you keened at the praise, though your response came out muffled with the shirt wedged between your teeth.
You gave a little impatient wiggle of your hips, feeling the mixture of slick and saliva begin to drip out of your pussy the longer it was left unattended.
Jungkook's eyes hooded at the sight, watching as a glob of his spit dripped down from your pussy and disappeared right between your crack. He swallowed hard, hands itching to spread the fat cheeks and watch the liquid pool around your tight, puckered hole. He'd grab your phone and make you bring up Park Hyungwon's contact, force you to Facetime the pathetic fuck, and make him watch as he let more of his spit trail from his mouth right over your greedy ass. Then he'd use his big tongue to shove it deeper and deeper into your winking little hole .
Of course, the Hyungwon part was purely theoretical because you no longer had his number or any contact with that cunt anymore. Jungkook saw to that three days into your relationship. But the other parts—
"Daddy?"
His gaze slowly drifted up to your pretty face when your muffled voice broke him from his thoughts. "Yes, my baby?"
"Wha's da bel' for?" you mumbled, your speech slurred by the fabric of his shirt still caught between your teeth.
Jungkook’s tongue swiped over his bottom lip, eyes darkening at the sight of you struggling to speak, and he wasn’t surprised when his cock twitched in response, pressing harder against his stomach.
He glanced at the belt lying next to you. “Was gonna punish you, angel,” he admitted softly.
His hand trailed down, freeing his throbbing shaft from its restraints and kicking the briefs aside. The (non-sexual related) clean freak in him made a mental note to tidy up later.
Climbing onto the bed, he settled between your legs, his weight pressing down on you as his chest melded into your soft, warm skin. A quiet, content sigh slipped from his lips as he let himself sink into you.
“But 'm still very sorry about earlier,” he murmured, his words a gentle apology as his hand brushed along your side, his nose nuzzling against your boob. “And I wanna be a little gentler with you tonight. Is that okay?”
A warmth swirled in your stomach, sending soft flutters through your body. Your hand lifted to thread through his silky, messy hair, your nails grazing his scalp just the way he loved.
“Of cour-kkhm,” His eyes flicked up to meet yours from where his head rested on your chest, and with a bunny smile, his fingers carefully tugged his shirt from your mouth, freeing your lips so you could speak more clearly.
Leaning down, you pressed a gentle kiss to his tattooed fingers, feeling his warmth seep into your skin. “You can have me any way you want, baby,” you whispered softly, your words full of affection. “You know that.”
“Never getting rid of me, you know that, right?” he murmured against the soft skin of your sideboob, his lips puckering to suck a delicate mark into the flesh.
“Would never try,” you sighed, your hand trailing down to rest on his warm, solid back as he licked tenderly over the mark he’d left. “Would fucking castrate you if you even tried to leave me.”
A low, deep laugh rumbled through his chest, vibrating against your body as he shifted up, his naked form pressing closer until his mouth found its place in the crook of your neck. He mumbled softly, a smirk tugging at his lips, “Would let you.”
You giggled, your head tilting to meet your other half. “Slut,” you mumbled sweetly before connecting your mouth with his. Your lips moved together in perfect sync, tongues lazily lapping against each other, unrushed and full of love.
The taste of you in his mouth had you clenching around nothing as the memory of his filthy tongue buried between your thighs minutes ago resurfaced. Your hips rocked up lightly, exhaling through your nose when the tip of his cock just barely brushed against your sticky clit, the sound loud in contrast to the soft click of your tongues.
Jungkook was no less affected, groaning into your mouth as his fingers tightened around the sides of your waist. His hips shifted down so the full length of his shaft could slip between your slick folds, and he reveled in the loud, squishy noise of your heat enveloping him as he slid back and forth.
“Mmmmhh,” you broke away from his mouth with a sigh of relief, your head lolling back as your body ignited at the feeling of his cock finally returning home. He didn’t make a move to push inside just yet, continuing his deep thrusts, coating his length and balls in your slick as he rutted back and forth. "Shit, baby."
Jungkook’s groan was strained as his hand trailed from your side, slipping between the two of you without moving his head. He reluctantly pulled his cock from your slick folds before two of his fingers were there to replace it, sinking into your heat without hesitation.
"F-fuck," you choked, your chest heaving at the sudden stretch, your body reacting instantly to the familiar intrusion. It was the first time something stiff had been inside you all night, and the relief was overwhelming.
Jungkook groaned low in your ear, letting you adjust for a second before his hunger took over. He pushed his fingers in deeper into your hole, sinking them in fully until his palm slapped loudly against your clit. Then he pulled them out and drove them back in, harder.
"Oh god, b-baby, shitttt." Your nails dug into the skin of his shoulders, jaw slacking when his long fingers easily reached that spongey part deep inside of you.
He nuzzled into your neck, his lips brushing the hot skin there as his fingers continued their relentless pace, a soft groan escaping his throat. The way your walls squeezed tightly around his fingers like you didn't want him to pull out, the loud sqsch-sqsch-sqsch of your pussy echoing in his ears as he thrusted his hand in and out of your dirty little hole.
God, he was going to cum untouched like a fucking teenager.
“Need to put it in, please, baby,” he begged softly, voice strained with need, his breath hot against your neck. “Need you."
Your hand cupped his face, fingers brushing lightly over his jawline as your eyes fluttered shut. “Take it,” you mewled, breath catching as his fingers slowed. His hips shifted back over you, his heavy balls pressed snugly against your clit. “Take it all, baby. It’s yours.”
Jungkook didn’t need to be told twice. He withdrew his fingers, his wet hand wrapping around his throbbing cock. He exhaled into your neck before slipping back into your folds and you choked out a loud sigh of relief as he finally began to fill you up.
“Shittttt,” he slurred against your neck, his forehead pressing into your jaw as he sank all the way in until his hips were flush with yours. “God, baby... so fucking good.”
His body stayed pressed against yours, his chest melting into your own, every inch of his skin needing to feel yours. His lips ghosted over your collarbone, up your neck, and to your jawline, pressing gentle kisses as he moved inside you with deep, unhurried thrusts.
“Fuck, baby,” you whimpered, your hands sliding up his back, pulling him impossibly closer. You buried your face into his neck, the scent of Bvlgari and tobacco making your head spin. It was so good. So fucking him.
The warmth of his heavy body on top of you made you feel so safe, so completely his. It fueled the burning ache in your stomach, the pressure in your core building with each deep stroke.
Your brows furrowed, overwhelmed, and your eyes pooled with tears, both from pleasure and emotion. "God, I love you so much, Jungkook. You make me feel so safe a-and loved," you choked out, voice trembling.
Jungkook’s hips stilled slightly, but you felt the way his cock twitched inside you at your words. He pulled his head back, looking down at your tear-streaked face, eyes softening.
"My baby," he mumbled softly, his clean(er) hand lifting to brush away your tears before leaning down to press soft kisses over your flushed skin.
"As long as I’m alive, nothing and nobody will ever hurt a hair on your pretty little head, Y/N." He kissed over the fresh tears, licking the salty liquid off his lips before placing a soft kiss onto your pouty lips. "Besides me, of course, when you ask me to."
A watery chuckle escaped your lips as he added, "I love you more than I love myself, baby. You're my world. I would kill for you," another kiss to the corner of your mouth before he cheekily added, "almost have."
You giggled, shaking your head and leaning up to press a grateful kiss against his lips. You followed it with another, longer one, brushing softly over the cool metal of his lip rings. "Can't wait to live with you, baby."
"Mmm," he groaned in satisfaction, his hips instinctively picking up their slow, deep rhythm at your words. "Yeah? Can’t wait to be trapped in my house, nowhere to run when you’re being a little brat?"
You laughed, breathy from the way he was rolling his hips into you. "Like I get far as it is? You just follow me like a dirty stalker."
His smile turned dark and playful as his thrusts became a little sharper. "Uh-huh, and you think that would stop when we sign some stupid joint tenancy papers?"
You couldn't help the way you clenched around him at that, big eyes blinking up at him in shock. "You're letting me sign the papers with you?"
Jungkook's brows furrowed as if confused. "Baby, it's our house; why wouldn’t you?"
A grunt rumbled from your throat as you pulled him down, teeth sinking into his bottom lip. Jungkook groaned into your mouth, his hands sliding down to grip your hips tightly, his thrusts growing rougher in response to the bite.
The sounds that echoed around your bedroom were wet, needy, the slick squelching with every push and pull as he kept his pace, deep and steady. Your breaths mingled, his lips hovering over yours as he rocked into you.
Jungkook groaned lowly, his hips pressing harder, more urgent. “You feel so fucking good, baby,” he rasped, his lips pressing soft kisses along your jaw, up to your ear. “Give it to me every day, and it's still so wet and tight for me, fucking hellll.”
You keened at his praise, biting your lip harshly as his pace quickened. Your legs wrapped tighter around his waist, thighs squeezing as you pulled him deeper inside you until you were so close you were getting shoved into the headboard with each thrust.
“Ah, bab-uh! Right theree,” you whined, back arching as he hit that spot with precision, his thick head shoving against your g-spot like it was second nature. He knew your body inside out, and still, every time felt like a new fucking discovery.
Jungkook grunted lowly, his lips hovering by your ear as he thrust deeper, harder. “Right there, baby? That’s my spot, isn’t it? Feels so good when I fuck into it like that, huh?”
Your nails dug into his back as you whimpered, completely at his mercy. The slamming of the headboard against the wall was so loud but you couldn't care less. “Yes, yes, fuck, baby, that's yooourr fucking spot, uuh! Fucking take it, baby, godd!"
Jungkook groaned, his hips snapping faster, rougher, each thrust more desperate as he pounded into you. “I will,” he promised, possessiveness dripping from every word. “And you’re gonna give it to me, right, baby? Gonna beg me for it?”
“Please, baby, take it,” you cried out, your legs tightening around his waist. “Take it all, it’s yours. Just fucking take it.”
His hand gripped your hip hard, anchoring you in place as he slammed into you over and over again. He shifted you down a little so your head wasn't slamming into the headboard and his free hand slid down to rub over your slippery clit.
"Whose is it, huh? Who does this dirty fucking pussy belong to? Tell me.”
“You,” you sobbed, your body trembling beneath him, the pressure building in your core so quickly you could barely think. “It’s yours, baby. All y-yours.”
“Say my fucking name when you come,” he demanded, “and you’re gonna take everything I give you, right, baby? Greedy little pussy’s gonna suck up every drop of my fucking load. And you’re gonna hold it in there until I’m ready to turn you into a mama.”
You came so fucking hard.
It hit you all at once—your release crashing through you, your body shaking violently as a broken scream ripped from your throat, nails digging so deep into his skin you knew you’d leave marks.
“Jung—” your breath hitched in a sob “Jungkooookkkk!”
Your body arched into him, every wave of pleasure crashing through you, leaving you limp and trembling beneath him as he kept pounding into you, chasing his own release. The sound of his balls slapping against your ass echoed in your ears, barely drowning out the breathless thank yous tumbling from your lips.
“Good fucking girl,” he praised, his voice strained as his hips stuttered, his cock pulsing as he used you as a fleshlight.
“Gonna be the best daddy,” you cried, legs shaking as you let him abuse your whimpering cunt. “Can’t wait to have your fucking babies. Give you, uh, g-give you as many as you want daddy.”
“Fuck, Y/N,” he groaned, head thrown back in bliss. “Yeah? Gonna keep popping out babies for daddy until he says you’re done? Gonna let me fuck you so full until it sticks... 'til your belly’s so big you can barely fucking walk, baby?”
You could hear the slick, wet sloshing noise every time he pulled out and slammed back into your pussy, and you swore it was the prettiest sound you’d ever heard.
“Yesss, daddyyy,” you cried out, voice high and desperate. “Please make me a mommy. P-please.”
“Nghhh, fuck!”
With one final deep thrust, he spilled into you, hot and thick, his body trembling as he filled you completely. Your name fell from his lips again as your greedy walls fluttered and clenched around him, eager to milk every last drop of cum from his cock.
But he didn’t stop.
Jungkook’s hips kept rolling into yours, adjusting for a moment at the sensitivity before he sped up, dragging his softening cock against that perfect spot inside you. His thumb was cruel, chasing your swollen clit even as it tried to hide from him.
It was too much, too intense, but you couldn’t stop the way your body reacted—back arching, nails back digging back into his big shoulders, a broken wail spilling from your lips.
“Fuck, baby,” you whimpered, head falling back as the overstimulation consumed you. “I c-can'tttt—”
“Another one," Jungkook growled, his lips brushing over your jaw, kissing you through every ragged breath. “C'mon, my love, you can do it. One more. One more, then you're done, baby.”
And just like that, it hit you—your second orgasm crashing through your body, leaving your toes curling and vision blurring. You cried out his name, your entire body shaking beneath him as he kept grinding, coaxing you through every wave of pleasure until you were trembling, thighs quivering around his waist.
“God, fuck!” you sobbed, clinging to him as the last of your release pulsed through you, squeezing his soft cock tight as he groaned into your neck. You were limp, shaking, but he stayed right there.
You both knew the chance of actually getting pregnant was very slim, thanks to the implant your arm, and you weren’t ready for that. You think.
But the breeding talk always turned you both the fuck on, and that 1% chance set something dangerous ablaze inside you. The risk, however small, just made it so much hotter.
You let out a content sigh as you crashed back to earth, shaky arms looping around his neck, pulling him down, craving the weight of his body on yours. Jungkook collapsed on top of you, his breath hot against your neck as he pressed soft kisses to your skin, still buried inside you
“Did so good, my baby. Always so good for me,” he cooed, his voice low and soft, as his nose nuzzled gently against your skin, brushing over your collarbone.
A breathy giggle escaped your lips as your fingers threaded through his slightly damp hair. “Thought you said you wanted to be gentle tonight.”
Jungkook hummed lazily against your neck, his lips trailing over your skin with a soft chuckle. “That was gentle,” he murmured, sinking deeper into your warm skin.
You snorted softly, shaking your head. “You’re not wrong,” you replied, your chest still heaving slightly as your hand slid soothingly up and down his back. You felt him smile against your neck, his arms tightening around you, his cock still nestled deep, clearly in no rush to pull out anytime soon.
For a moment, it was peaceful—the sound of your mingled breaths the only noise in the room. Then, Jungkook lifted his head slightly, glancing at the soft glow of your Mac screen. His eyes caught the time, and he let out an annoyed groan, burying his face deeper into your skin.
“Hm? What’s wrong?” you asked, your fingers still threading through his hair as you glanced toward the screen yourself. Your heart dropped when you saw the time.
“You’ve got to be up in, like, three hours,” you mumbled, running your hand down his back, your feet sliding up and down the back of his thighs in an attempt to soothe him.
Jungkook’s body tensed slightly at the reminder, his lips still pressed to your neck. You could feel the irritation in his silence, and your heart sank at the thought of him leaving before you even woke up.
“I’ll make your lunch before I come into work at eight, baby,” you offered softly, your voice gentle as you tried to ease his frustration. “I can bring it up to y—”
“I’m not going,” he interrupted, his voice firm but soft against your skin.
Your heart stilled at his words, and you pulled back slightly, trying to see his face. “What do you mean, you’re not going?”
“I’m not going in tomorrow,” he repeated, lifting his head to meet your gaze. “And you’re not either. We’re staying right here until we both get some real sleep.”
You blinked in surprise. “But—”
“And then,” he cut you off again, his lips brushing yours as he spoke, “we’re gonna wake up, pack your shit, and move into our house.”
Your heart fluttered in your chest. “Yeah?” you whispered, your voice barely audible as you looked into his eyes, searching for any hint of hesitation.
Jungkook nodded, his lips curving into a soft smile as he leaned down to kiss you pouty lips, his hands brushing back your hair. “Told you, you can’t run from me anymore, baby.”
You grinned against his lips, wrapping your arms around his neck as you kissed him deeply, your heart swelling with love.
“I love you so much, my dirty stalker,” you cooed against his mouth, your fingers drifting to trace over your name inked across his chest.
Jungkook’s eyes crinkled as his lips pressed softly against yours again, his body relaxing as he breathed you in. “I love you more, my crazy girl."
WOW what a ride!! let me know what you think?? love you 🖤
#📁CRAZY.docx#jungkook#jungkook smut#jeon jungkook#jungkook fic#jungkook fluff#jungkook imagine#jungkook x reader#jungkook x you#jungkook angst#bts#bts smut#bts fanfic#bts x reader#bts fanfiction#bts fic#jungkook fanfic#jungkook bts#bts jungkook#jimin#park jimin#jungkook x oc#jungkook x y/n#possessive#possessive love#soft yandere
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Routines
Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x Reader
wc: 1.4k words
warnings/tags: fluff, Simon worshipping reader, brief allusions to smut
credits to @lettaniko for the incredible Ghost art!!
“At that point I was about ready to fall asleep. I swear to you Si, these meetings are so pointless.” You state loud enough for him to hear you over the sound of the shower. Your eyes are closed, tilting your head back into the stream as you rinse off the final step of your weekly long shower routine, knowing Simon’s somewhere in the bathroom listening to you go through your day.
You’ve got your back turned to him so you can’t see him, but you picture him leaning against the sink, with his muscular arms bulging as they’re crossed in front of his wide chest. Or maybe he’s got his hands reaching back to grip the edge of the counter top.
He is facing the shower door after all. And though the water has fogged up the glass, his heavy gaze can still make out your bare, sultry figure moving only a few feet away from him.
He hums along in response to your ranting when appropriate, letting you know that he’s following along, as he always does. When he hears the sound of you shutting the water off, he can’t help the smirk that slides across his face. His favourite part is about to begin, after all.
Just as he does every time, Simon grabs a new fluffy towel off the rack, holding it open for you as you step out of the shower. Like a man on a mission, he diligently wraps the towel around your wet figure, pressing small kisses to the specks of water dotted across your shoulders.
“And you know it’s not like I’m not paying attention, but when we keep repeating the same stuff over and over-” you continue to explain to him as he slides his palm down to your waist, giving it a slight squeeze as he reaches over and grabs another towel, this time handing it to you.
“Jus’ say the word, lovie.” He informs you, taking a small step back to give you the space to flip your dripping hair up into the towel. “Told ya already, don’t needa be workin’ so much anymore.” Both towels now secure in place, he scoops you up by your hips, earning himself a sweet giggle from his birdie, gently placing you atop the counter. “Lemme take care of ya.”
“You always take care of me, Simon.” You correct him, reaching a hand up to lovingly run along his jawline, scratch along his neck and into the soft hairs at the base of his neck. He can’t fight the soft groan of pleasure that slips between his lips at the feeling of your hands on him. “Such good care. But I’d go crazy when you’re gone for more than like, two consecutive days. At least I get to talk to people at work…”
As you’re speaking to him, Simon’s hands are reaching out towards the products laid out atop the counter next to you. He starts with your favourite scented lotion, scooping himself a general amount before kneeling down before you.
His large calloused hands, which have seen more blood and violence that any man his age should, handle you with such reverence and utter care, you would think he was afraid of breaking you. Simon hasn’t always been the best at expressing his feelings towards you through words. He didn’t grow up in a home where words of affirmation were shared over meals, where affection flowed through one another seamlessly, where love was expressed regularly.
But he’s learning. For you, he’s learning. And what he cannot always show through words, he makes up for tenfold through his actions. You can feel the love Simon holds for you as he massages the lotion onto your feet, your ankles, calves, working his way up your limbs. All while listening to you drone on and on about whatever it is you want to tap his ear off about this time.
Always listening to you, hanging off of your every word as though it were invaluable scriptures, and not just complaints about your workplace. And he does it all with such patience and almost gratitude. Gratitude that week after week you allow him to be in your space, to witness you performing such mundane tasks, to partake in your sacred routine and to be a part of what makes you so soft, at least on the outside.
“Maybe a couple more years, eh? When you decide to stop getting shot at as a career,” you tease, earning you a slight smack against your thigh, where he’s now worked his way up to spreading your lotion, inching the towel up just high enough to reach your skin. “Maybe we’ll move somewhere quiet, find ourselves a cute little cottage, close enough that we can still get our favourite take-aways though, mind you.”
Having finished massaging nearly ever available inch of your lower half, Simon scoops up some more lotion, using his other hand to delicately peel away the towel wrapped around your chest. He offers you a glance, almost as if asking permission to remove the garment, as though he hasn’t seen and worshipped everything underneath it. As though this isn’t your routine every week. You give him a nod, and the towel slips off your figure, leaving you sitting bare in front of your mountain of a man.
“Hmm,” His hum is one of agreement. His hands have begun to massage your hands, your arms, working up to your shoulders and collarbones. “Sounds nice. Hop off for me, beautiful.” At his request, you slide yourself off the counter now firmly pressed between the sink and the 6’4” shadow that follows you everywhere. You slowly turn around so that your back is pressed to his front and you are both facing the mirror.
His hands begin to run along your tummy, massaging the soft flesh he finds there, before his digits make their way up to your waiting breasts. He takes his sweet, sweet time in worshipping your chest, his gaze never straying from your face in the mirror, watching for your every reaction as his fingers glide along your sensitive nipples.
“How many bedrooms are in this cottage, hm?” He ponders as his head drops forward to press a kiss to your temple. You can feel him hardening through his pants against your bare ass, and a thrill runs up your spine.
“Uh, at least two, I suppose? A guest room if ever the boys want to come and stay?” You reply, steadily losing your will to hold a normal conversation as his fingers become more insistent across your tits, his bulge pressing up against behind you.
“Where we putting all those babies I plan to fuck into you then, eh lovely?” He asks so casually, as though he was simply wondering where you’d place a too large piece of furniture. At the sound of your burst of laughter, Simon finds himself smiling wider. God, he’s always smiling around you isn’t he?
“Well,” you tell him, meeting his eyes in the mirror. “How’s about you start by putting said baby in me, and then we’ll figure out rooming situations.” You’re teasing him, but this isn’t the first time he’s brought up wanting to have kids with you. Just the idea of carrying his baby around, proof of the love you two have for one another, a human life you created together, has your knees going weak.
“Like I said, you just give me the word, love.” He finishes with a kiss to the other side of your head, deciding he’s given your breasts enough of a groping for now. He’s reaching for your skin care products next, nodding towards the counter for you to hop up once again.
And so the routine continues, Simon lovingly applies your serums and moisturizer to your face, tenderly brushing his fingers against each freckle, each beauty mark, each imperfection that he wishes to photograph in his memory forever. He’s combing out your damp locks, helping to apply any product you’re wanting to use in your hair as well. His hands are never not touching you, never not helping you in some way.
Finally, Simon is carrying you bridal style out of the bathroom, leading you towards his side of the closet, grabbing whichever one of his oversized t-shirts you point out, and helping you slip it on. When your head pokes through and your glowing eyes reach his once more, with a content smile stretch across your face, he reaches out with both palms to cradle the back of your neck, pulling you in for a sweet kiss, mindful of all the products he’s just applied to your skin.
He’s always taking care of you, your Simon.
#call of duty fic#call of duty fanfic#call of duty#cod fluff#cod fic#cod fanfic#simon riley fluff#simon ghost riley fluff#simon ghost riley x you#simon riley#simon riley x you#simon ghost x reader#simon riley x reader#simon ghost riley#ghost fic#ghost x y/n#ghost x you#ghost fanfic#ghost x reader#ghost cod#readwritealldayallnight
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gorgeous girl ln4
lando norris x fem!reader ( fc: sabrina carpenter )
in which y/n y/l/n breaks up with her cheating boyfriend and fans are rooting for her and lando norris to get together.
warning: swearing, fluff, the timelines of song releases and races are not in order, cheating with multiple people, breakups, relationships, some spelling errors or grammatical errors. lemme know if there’s anything I missed xx
an: I’ve never done a face claim but I wanted to try and see how it works out. I might not do one again but I am not sure yet. ALSO I am very unsure about the name of this cause I feel like it sounds cringe, so I might end up changing it.
driver list navigation
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yourusername
liked by landonorris, carlossainz55, y/nfan14 and 334,567,13 others
yourusername over it 🎀 album coming soon loves <3
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user gorgg
user ALBUM PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE
yourusername liked this comment
user so prettyyyyy
user MUSIC?
⤷ user omg I am so readyyyyy for an albummm
landonorris beautiful as always
⤷ yourusername 🤍 thank you loveee
⤷ user ARE YALL DATING?
⤷ yourusername only friends xx
user please date lando
user that’s it love!!! he ain’t with your time
user I’ve been listening to espresso and please please please on repeat
yourusername liked this comment
⤷ user SAME
user I LOVE YOU
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music.f1gossip
liked by y/nbiggestfan, espressolover and 55,622 others
music.f1gossip are lando norris and y/n y/l/n dating?
it’s known that y/l/n’s recent breakup was one that didn’t end happily because of her ex boyfriend’s infidelity. y/l/n made a story a few weeks after the breakup stating “he had three different side pieces during the whole relationship” which left fans absolutely shocked.
her ex has been getting a lot of hate from y/l/n’s fanbase to a point where he blocked his comments. he has been flaunting around his new girlfriend since the breakup all while texting y/l/n to take him back which we saw because y/l/n posted their messages on her story as seen above.
however, her next story was one with lando norris which was captioned “my saviour fr” which many speculated it was a mention to norris supporting y/l/n during the breakup and defending her from hate comments that she received. she then made a story showing she was at the miami grand prix.
norris and y/l/n have been best friends for quite a while now and many always thought that they’d end up together, however, neither of them have announced anything about their relationship.
in recent times, norris has been so called ‘flirting’ with y/l/n in her instagram comments which has left both their fans going crazy.
now, do you guys think y/l/n and norris are dating? or they just good friends?
let me know in the comments xx
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user that change up is scary
user damn
user lando’s better anyway
user 💀 I love you right after he called her a bitch is crazyyy
⤷ user frrr like what is this guy on?
user THATS ONLY FOR LANDO
⤷ user HE CALLS HER GORGEOUS GIRL
⤷ user they’re so datinggg
user I love themmm
⤷ user SAMEEE
user SAVIOUR!!! it’s actually so cute how he defends her all then time and even promotes her music
⤷ user THEY’RE cuteeee
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yourusername
liked by landonorris, carlossainzz55 and 456,822,821 others
yourusername P1 BABY!!! I am so proud of you lan more then you will ever know. congratulations love, you truly deserve this 🤍
tagged landonorris
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landonorris thank you gorgeous, couldn’t have done it without your support ❤️
⤷ yourusername ❤️❤️
⤷ user they’re so in loveee
user so cuteeee
user dating!!!!
user please be dating
carlossainz55 you never did this when I had my first win 😔
⤷ yourusername I AM SORRY
landonorris you look so gooddd
⤷ yourusername I am not in the photos
⤷ landonorris yeah but you’re in front of me
⤷ user OMD
user the way he’s shamelessly flirting now, he ain’t even try and hide it.
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“LAN! YOU CAN’T BE SAYING THAT!” she tells him sternly, looking up at him.
he had a boyish grin on his face as he looked at her, “what? can’t tell people that my girl- oh sorry best friend looks good right now?”
“you just exposed our relationship. we agreed to wait three months before saying something.” she spoke softly, standing up as she placed her phone down on the coach.
“I can’t wait that long. I want everyone to know that after eight years you are finally my girlfriend.” he says with a smile as he shrugs his shoulders.
“you’re an idiot.” she replied as she tried to hold a serious face which soon fell into a blushing smile the more she looked at him.
“yeah but i’m your idiot.” he says smugly as he pulls her onto his lap to straddle him.
she places her arms around his neck and rests her forehead against his as she strokes the back of his head whilst he keeps his hands on her hips, using his thumb to lightly stroke her hip.
they stay in silence for a few more moments, letting themselves enjoy a rare peaceful moment before she breaks the silence, “I am really proud of you lan, you really deserved that win today.” she says softly, looking into his eyes.
“thank you baby.” he smiles.
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landonorris
liked by yourusername, carlossainz55 and 453,722,763 others
landonorris P1!! got a win and a girl (ive been her’s for two months now. be jealous)
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user BEEN HER’S!!!
yourusername really?
⤷ landonorris you’re very beautiful
⤷ yourusername 😐
⤷ landonorris gorgeous girl
user just saying what we already knew
user yesssss love tjemmm
user FINALLY
user so cuteeee
danielricciardo proud of you 👍🏼
⤷ yourusername I am a huge fan
⤷ danielricciardo I AM A HUGE FAN
user thought they’d never get together
user TWO MONTHS
user I love you y/n
⤷ landonorris I love her more
⤷ user I’ve been with her though girl meets world. don’t try me norizz.
yourusername liked this comment
⤷ yourusername I love you 🤍🤍
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#ָ࣪ ۰ ⸂ ࣪ darlingletters blog *⋆。˚ 🤍 ˎˊ˗#⊹ ࣪˖ᝰ ࣪ darlingletters driverslist 🛒 ៹ ࣪˖ ◞ ⋆#formula 1#f1 x female reader#f1 x y/n#f1 x you#f1 x reader#f1 imagine#f1 fic#f1 fanfic#lando norris#lando norris x you#lando norris x y/n#lando norris x reader#ln4#ln4 x y/n#ln4 x reader#ln4 imagine#ln4 fic#ln4 one shot#ln4 x you#ln4 fluff
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𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐭𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐭𝐨 𝐠𝐞��� “𝐣𝐚𝐜𝐤”𝐞𝐝 - 𝐨𝐩. 𝟖𝟏
𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: oscar’s girlfriend is feral on main. 𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴: crack. this is a shitpost, you have been warned. uh this is completely unrealistic, it’s pure vibes okay. this is not an accurate representation of those mentioned. 𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴: oscar piastri x fem!black!reader 𝗴𝗲𝗻𝗿𝗲: smau.
𝗽𝗿𝗲𝗳𝗮𝗰𝗲: i wouldn’t consider myself an oscar girlie but then,,, i opened tumblr and saw the photos of oscar from when he went karting and um…now have another op 81 mess of a smau! this is completely unserious and it’s inspired by the nefarious actions i would do to oscar’s biceps. inspired by @dwarvenchords and @hookhausenschips ‘s reblog lol. it’s short but, enjoy, loves xxx.
insp. 1 | insp. 2 | taglist | feedback & requests | table of contents ↻
instagram
yninstagram • february 28th
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oscarpiastri: love…you couldn’t even save this for the close friends stories? you had to post it on main yninstagram: did you like my joke? oscar “jack”ed piastri LOL im so clever oscarpiastri: ijbol 😐 yninstagram: i’d be pressed but ur muscles are distracting me oscarpiastri: u should cmere and give them a kiss :)
lilymhe: he let u tie a bow around his bicep?!!! omfg i have to do this with alex yninstagram: i don’t think alex has enough muscles to meet the requirement for the bow :/
landonorris: he’s such a simp landonorris: i would never let my girlfriend tie a bow on me 🥱 yninstagram: step 1: have a girlfriend
logansargeant: your freak out on twitter had a slight mentally-ill aura yninstagram: shut the fuck up and get on a podium before you talk to me yninstagram: gangly bitch + not funny didn’t laugh + L
instagram
yninstagram • february 28th • in between my boyfriends tiddies ⚑
liked by, oscarpiastri, mclaren, logansargeant, markwebber, and 1,223,458 others
yninstagram: things to do with your boyfriends muscles; listed in the comments below (a huge thanks to the toto user on twt for FINALLY sending me the photo)
tagged oscarpiastri
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yninstagram 1. tie a bow around them (completed)
➥ user thx for sharing the photo
➥ user FUCK! I CAN’T FIND A PIECE OF PAPER TO WRITE THIS ON
yninstagram 2. kiss them (completed)
➥ user awh how cute! going to nap on the interstate rq
➥ user wait for me!
➥ user omg slumberpartyyyyy
yninstagram 3. touch them (completed)
➥ markwebber there’s a time i thought you were a normal girl
➥ yninstagram who told you to think that??
user i know those arms are rock solid 🥴🤤
user i’m the toto user on twitter !!! she did not kill me y’all !!!
➥ user u were flirting with death babes
➥ user i would not have admitted to this under her post
➥ user you should seek witness protection 🙏🏾
yninstagram 4. have him suffocate you with them (he said no)
➥ oscarpiastri WHY DID YOU INCLUDE THIS ONE
➥ logansargeant i think you’re proving the mentally-ill part y/n
➥ yninstagram u sound jealous logan
➥ user personally, i think if you didn’t want her to say that, you shouldn’t have muscles @/oscarpiastri
➥ oscarpiastri oh! yeah! why didn’t i think of that—lemme just take them off rq 😐 WTH
yninstagram 5. wall sex (?)
➥ oscarpiastri i specifically said not to say #4 and #5 in public
➥ user the question mark is SENDING MEEEEE
➥ yninstagram i mean, i can tell you that he didn’t say no to this one 😈 @/user
➥ landonorris i did not want to see this when i opened ig
➥ yninstagram do us all a favor then and delete ur account x
➥ oscarpiastri what she said^
➥ landonorris :o -> :(
yninstagram 6. draw on them (in progress)
➥ user wait this one is actually cute 🤭
➥ oscarpiastri watching the pure concentration on her face is adorable
➥ user omg she’s so 👉🏼👈🏼 coded
➥ oscarpiastri it tickles lol
➥ yninstagram ur moving around too much
➥ yninstagram might have to tie you to the headboard 😏
➥ user and she’s back on her bs
yninstagram 7. watch him flex for you (ongoing indefinitely)
➥ mclaren do we have your permission to post oscar thirst traps now?
➥ yninstagram i’m sure we could work out something mutually beneficial
oscarpiastri • february 28th • my girl’s basement ⚑
liked by yninstagram, danielricciardo, logansargeant, landonorris, and 1,478,539 others
oscarpiastri she knocked out on my chest halfway through drawing on me. didn’t know this was part of the boyfriend job description, felt like there was some false adverting. overall: 12/10 experience, will be doing this again.
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danielricciardo didn’t know where this was going for a sec but fuck you guys are so cute 🥹
➥ oscarpiastri thank you? i guess
➥ user oh to have my relationship praised by danny ric
➥ user girl ur man responds to your texts two days late
➥ user DAMN u didn’t have to air out my business like thatttt
user WHAT DID SHE USE TO DRAW ON YOU OSCAR??? HELP A GIRL OUT
➥ oscarpiastri its liquid eyeliner 🫡
➥ oscarpiastri she used an eyeshadow palette when she wanted to add colors
➥ user why did i never think of that, she’s so smarttttt
user oscar piastri the MAN that u AREEEE
logansargeant so,,,,are we still getting dinner later orrrrr
➥ user LOL
➥ user omg y/n was right logan IS jealous
➥ logansargeant im not jealous !!!!
➥ user 💀
➥ user okayyyy….we believe you LMAOOOOO
➥ oscarpiastri ijbol 😂
➥ logansargeant stop using ijbol it’s not funny
➥ user this will be the only time that i say i agree with logan on something
➥ logansargeant ur literally a fan account FOR ME?? @/user
➥ user yeah man u didn’t have to bring that up 😒
taglist: @saintslewis @cherry2stems @lorarri @inloveallthetime @mindless-rock @biancathecool @barnestatic @my-ylenia @katekipshidze @darleneslane @lovingaphroditesworld @smoothopz @vetteltea @tallrock35 @iloveyou3000morgan @smartstupyd @spideybv28 @loomiscorpse @hiireadstuff
© httpsserene2023
#oscar piastri x reader#oscar piastri x female reader#oscar piastri x black!reader#oscar piastri x you#logan sergeant x reader#lando norris x reader#f1 x reader#f1 x female reader#f1 x black!reader#f1 x y/n#oscar piastri fic#oscar piastri fanfic#oscar piastri imagine#formula 1 fanfic#formula 1 x reader#formula 1 x female reader#formula 1 x black!reader#f1 imagine#f1 fic#f1 fanfic#f1 fluff#f1 crack#oscar piastri#⋆⭒˚。⋆. series special: formula 1#serene's chapters.#serene’s fave.
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❝DON'T CALL MY PHONE, BITCH !!❞
i want you to stop! feat. t. fushiguro, g. satoru, g. suguru, k. nanami ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ ✰ pov : your boyfriend/husband gets a call while you're sucking him off . . . ✰ tags : fem!reader, smut, blow jobs, swearing, hair pulling, face fucking, praise, nicknames (baby, princess, sweetheart, darling, cutie), mdni ✰ an : this was gonna be a toji fanfic but i got to thinking and i was like ... well, yes!
TOJI FUSHIGURO ☆
his grip was firm on the crown of your head, fingers entangling in your hair as he guided your mouth up and down him—finally putting that filthy mouth of yours to good use. the way his dick effortlessly slid down your throat was soo good, and the sight of your eyes fluttering and rolling back in your head every time he hit your uvula was the icing on the cake for him. "just like that, princess. that's it—milk my fuckin' dick, yeahhh," he whispers, your throat relaxing around him as you anticipated the moment he filled your mouth. you could feel it coming, with the way he was twitching and the guttural sounds he lets out as threw his head back against the couch. so close, so close, so— buzz buzz, there it was again. that incessant buzzing that had drawn him out of the moment for the last time. who the fuck could even be calling him at this hour, anyway? "who the fuck—hold on, princess," you let out a whine as he eases his still hard dick out of your mouth, letting it fall against your face as he picked up the still ringing phone. "it's shiu, behave." he warns, smirking wickedly at you as you nearly threw a tantrum below him. your ears tuned out the unimportant drone of small talk between the two men as you sat between his legs, your head resting idly on his thigh as you stared up at him. as you neared the border of sleep, your eyes shot open as you got an idea. your eyes were still locked on him as you inched closer to him on your knees, your fingertips pressed against the floor as you sunk your mouth back onto him and eased him back down your throat. "shit, shiu lemme call you back," toji gritted, quickly ending the call and haphazardly tossing it next to him as he grabbed you by the scruff of your neck, yanking you off of his dick as he moved his grip back to your head. "think y'er so funny, don't you?" he glared, squeezing your cheeks together in his hands and pressing your lips together. "such a mean lil' thing, ain't ya? don't worry, we'll fix that. open up."
GOJO SATORU ☆
his eyes were shut tight as you swirled your tongue around him, moans of pleasure bordering on whimpers as you expertly sucked him off. he didn’t even know you could use your tongue like that, just happened to find out one night after a dare. and boy did he have plans for you after that night.
“christ, y-you’re so good,” he gritted, his bony fingers knotted deep in your hair as he forced his cock deep in your throat—gag reflex be damned. he was so loud, so lust drunk he barely noticed the buzz of his phone until it nearly clattered to the floor.
“shit—y-yeah, suguru?” of course it was suguru, it was always suguru. it was like he had a third eye that opened as soon as you two got it on, it kinda freaked you out a bit.. but nevertheless, you weren’t about to let him ruin this moment. not this time.
you pulled your mouth off of gojo’s dick as he rambled and moved down slightly lower, to his heavy cum-filled balls. he was always so sensitive down there and combined with the way he was feeling extra needy tonight, he was in for it. with a little kiss and squeeze, he was practically melting, quite literally whimpering into his mic as suguru fought back giggles on the other end.
“toruu,” you purred, placing another chaste kiss on his sacks before tracing one of the more prominent veins on his dick right up to the tip, swallowing him back in your mouth as you fondled him simultaneously. the look on his face was priceless, his eyes rolling back and the hand holding his phone going slightly limp.
“satoru? you still there?” geto questioned, hardly making it through his sentence as gojo jumped at the sound of his voice, “yyyeah! yeahyeahyeahyeah, i’m here.. lemme uhh—fuck, call you b-back, ‘kay?” he didn’t even wait for a response before hanging up the phone and letting it clatter to the floor next to you.
“god, baby you’re gonna kill me one of these days.. keep going, please.”
GETO SUGURU ☆
you watched from between your boyfriends legs as he spoke to his best friend; phone resting on the couch, joint rolled neatly between his lips as his head dipped back and his arms spread out on the back of the couch. he looked so pretty, his long dark locks tied up in a bun as the smoke clouded around you two.
“i’m serious, suguru! it was like—this big!” gojo exclaimed, spreading his hands out to imitate the size of whatever he was on about. you could see his bright blue eyes bouncing around on geto’s phone, clearly ecstatic to relay his day back to him. it would’ve been a cute moment if not for you currently slobbering on his best friends dick.
“mhm?” geto purred, fighting back constant heavy breaths and groans that were sure to come out of him sooner or later. it was a wonder gojo didn’t know just what you two were doing, and with the way you were sloppily sucking him off, it was a wonder he could hear geto at all. your train of thought was cut short at the feeling of geto’s dick twitching and throbbing before you felt your mouth fill with his thick cum.
yanking you off of him by the crown of your head, geto held your jaw in his hands and brought you closer to him, entirely tuning out gojo’s incessant babbling. “swallow for me, cutie,” he cooed, watching your throat as you swallowed his seed, his eyes lighting up as soon as the motion happened.
“good girl,” he praised, placing a kiss on your glazed lips. you could swear he was about to push you back down until he turned his attention to the whining that wasn’t coming from you, “suguruu! you’re not listening to me! what the fuck are you doing anyway?” you heard gojo ask, pushing his eye all up in the camera.
geto sat in silence for a moment before he looked down at you wickedly, his lips slowly turning up at the edges as he brought his phone up off the couch and held it over you, turning the camera around to show gojo exactly what he was doing, “say hi, baby.”
“hiii, satoruu,” you giggled, tapping geto’s tip against your tongue, listening to the quiet “woah” gojo pushed out. “yeah so, i’ll call you back, hm?”
KENTO NANAMI ☆
you were sat between your husbands knees as you listened to him speak to his colleagues, something about business. you knew how serious he got when he was on his business calls, but you couldn’t help but be needy.
his hand was on your head as you rested it on his meaty thigh, constricted by his slacks. you couldn’t help but notice that the little bit of swelling in his crotch every time you shifted just a little bit. you’d never seen anything more tempting.
you shifted once more and took his hand off your head, snuggling up further between his legs and inching yourself closer to his bulge as you looked up at him with pleading eyes. “sweetheart—“
oh, how he just wanted to throw you over his desk and absolutely wreck you. you were gonna be the death of him, that was for sure. he attempted to swat your hands away from his belt while simultaneously trying to be inconspicuous enough to not get caught fooling around with his wife while doing important business, but ultimately failing as his belt ends up unbuckled before he could even realize it.
“darling, i don’t think this is very wise—“ “kento? are you listening?” you watched as his head snapped back up to his screen as an awkward smile graced his lips, his hand finding its way back to your head and threading itself deep in your locks, “yes—sorry, my pet just wants some attention. please, continue.”
he pulled on your hair slightly and you took that as the go ahead. you pulled his fly down and eagerly freed him from his boxers, his thick cock springing out from his pants causing his jaw to clench as soon as he was free.
you wasted no time in sinking down onto him, wrapping your lips around him and taking him in as deep as you possibly could without gagging, not wanting to make any noise that’d blow your cover. your eyes stayed on his face as you bobbed your head up and down, watching his fist clench and unclench as he fought back those grunts and groans that were desperately trying to escape him.
soon enough, he was getting close. you could feel him getting restless as he attempted not to squirm in his seat, taking more effort than usual to make his words sound like he wasn’t doing anything. he couldn’t take it anymore. with a quick excuse and an even quicker click of his mouse to hang up the call, his attention was all on you.
“you’re going to get me in trouble one of these days, princess. ah ah, now i didn’t tell you to stop, did i?”
#veenriu ᯓᡣ𐭩#jjk x reader#jjk men#toji fushiguro#gojo satoru#geto suguru#nanami kento#jjk smut#jujutsu kaisen#jjk fanfic#jjk x you#toji fushiguro smut#gojo satoru smut#geto suguru smut#nanami kento smut#cw sex mention
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Panties
Series Masterpost | Main Masterpost | Support a disabled creator
A/N: Well look who are back. I didn’t think dbf!joel still existed in my brain but it seems that he is actually thriving. A little treat for you all while I polish some hubby stuff. This one absolutely goes out to @sugadolly 💖💅🫶
Summary: You show off your cute little underwear. Joel wants to fuck you but you want to try something else.
Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader/you (no y/n)
Tags: +18 smut, dbf!joel, age gap, daddy kink, dirty talk, praise kink, pet names, reader is a good little girl, outside sex (idk what is to call it), clit stim, overstim, reader is cockdrunk af, they’re actually very much in love for real, cum!!!!
Word count: 2.2k
Link to this work on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/52857010
Panties
“Lemme see them,” Joel says with a gentle tone as he admires you only in your jeans. He is hovering above you, kisses your lips a few times, and cups your tits as he slips his tongue into your mouth for a brief moment.
You wrap your arms around his neck, feeling his chest against your breasts as you embrace each other. You giggle softly, “They’re silly, Daddy.”
“Never thought in a million years that my baby would be silly,” he says with obvious sarcasm, nudging your nose with his own, “Show Daddy your pretty little panties. I’m gonna see ‘em eventually.”
You remove yourself from him to step back. You roll your eyes, and he raises a brow but then you follow through.
“Fine,” you tut as you lie down on his bed. His eyes lock on your buttoned jeans, his mouth slightly agape as he breathes deeply with anticipation hanging in the air.
You undo your jeans and pull down the zipper, wiggling your hips as you pull the denim down over them, and into view comes your pink cotton briefs. They’re cute, not silly, but you already know this, sporting a little bow on the front and a pattern of chibi-style cats.
“Well?” You kick off your jeans, throwing them onto the floor.
Joel kneels on the bed, admiring them thoroughly, “Pussy panties?”
You snort, covering your mouth and nose as you do, “Shut up.”
“Am I wrong, baby?” He crawls closer to you, lifts your legs up to bend them, and spreads them until his thighs hit the back of yours. He reaches up to peel his shirt off and throws it into your arms so you can hug it close and get drunk on his scent.
“No,” you say as you contemplate crawling into the piece of clothing that he has given you. God, you want him everywhere on you. That masculine smell has you wet in moments.
“Makes ya look real pretty, lovebug,” he compliments, just about to peel the underwear off of you. He stops himself as you scrunch your nose up at the new pet name.
Joel laughs heartily, “Don’t like it?”
“Say it again,” you grin up at him.
“Love. Bug,” he repeats, yanks one of your legs at a time over his hips.
“Hmm,” you tap your chin, “Maybe you should call me it as I come, just to make me associate it with something nice.”
“Cheeky,” he says as he pulls down his own underwear. They are in no way as thrilling as yours; black briefs that can barely contain his hard cock and with a little logo on the waistband. He settles them around his thighs, and whilst he does, you reach down to pull your colorful panties to the side.
“Joel?” You say his name. He makes a movement as if his ears have perked up at hearing his actual name.
“What is it?” He asks, rubbing your legs soothingly. His eyes are locked on your cunt.
“When— when you’re,” you trail off, suddenly shy, “Uh, when you…”
“Yes?” He drags the word out, looks up.
“I want you to come on them,” your heart beats in your chest and ears but out of the corner of your eyes, you spot Joel’s cock twitching in the air upon hearing those words.
“Was that so hard to ask for?” He digs his thumbs into your thighs, causing you to squirm underneath him, “You just lie back and let Daddy treat ya right.”
You wait in anticipation. And then, oh.
Ohh.
“Ah,” you mewl, looking down between you to see what he is doing. The thick head of his cock lays heavily against your clit, and when you tell him how good it feels, he holds the base of his shaft and slaps the tip against the small nub a few times.
You shudder, clenching around nothing and flexing your thighs as you shift a little. Joel’s cock hangs between his legs again, and his hands slide down to rest on your hips, thumbs reaching inwards to spread you open and watch your pulsing cunt.
“You want me to make you feel good, baby? Make you come so hard that your little clit won’t stop twitchin’ until you get all teary-eyed?” He reaches for your clit to circle it with the pad of his thumb, and you can feel slick drip down between your ass cheeks. You moan helplessly and nod repeatedly, already heaving for breath, and Joel beams with pride, “Already cockdrunk? My my. I haven’t even fucked ya yet.”
“I don’t want you to f— I don’t want that,” you say suddenly, surprising even yourself. You reach down for Joel’s cock, pulling it against your cunt but not dipping the head into you. Instead, you rub him against your clit, “This, Daddy, I want to come like this.”
“I can make that happen,” he reassures, batting your hand away to replace it and grabbing at the base of his cock himself. He resumes what you were doing, dipping the head down to catch some of your wetness before adding pressure to your clit. He slides back and forth a few times, “Like that?”
“Mhm,” you hum softly, furrowing your brow in concentration. You hold still to let him rub his whole length through your folds until he is sticky with your arousal. His left hand is still grabbing your hip, and he uses it for leverage as he leans a little weight into you.
When he grows impatient after a few minutes of you crying quietly for him, he tries to enter you. You catch his wrist and shake your head, “No! No… you promised.”
“I did no such thing,” he clicks his tongue at you.
You pout up at him, “But…”
“Oh, don’t make that face,” he groans, “You know I can’t do anythin’ when you make that face.”
“Please,” you beg, “I’ll come so hard for you.”
“Yeah?” He smiles down at you.
“Yeah,” you blink your eyes prettily, “This feels so good. I’ll cream all over your cock, Daddy.”
“Now how can I say no to that?” He moves a little before guiding his cockhead back to where you want it. He rubs the blunt head in circles over your clit for a moment, slaps it against the sensitive spot too, until you can hear the squelching sound of your wetness coating you. It makes him glide over your cunt easier.
You curl your toes and bite your lip as you look down at what he is doing, “Ahh… Keep going.”
He does, building up a rhythm that has you whining pathetically. This shouldn’t be that intense but it is, making your pussy flutter and seek out more.
“Let me try something,” you say, and he stops as you reach down, “One second.”
With both hands, you take hold of the seam of the leg of your underwear, holding tightly at the very top of it and the very bottom. You yank it down to sit tightly over the girth of Joel’s cock, essentially trapping it underneath your panties so it drags along the shaft with each of his thrusts. He sits so tightly against you now.
“Try now,” you don’t even have to say please for Joel to know you are begging.
“Jesus Christ,” he growls at the new sensation, spurred on to make himself feel it even more. He fucks himself against you with a sudden quickened breath.
The bed starts shaking. You start trembling.
You’re not able to take your eyes off of your sinful act, chewing on your bottom lip as he works his cock back and forth over and over again underneath the seam of your panties.
“Please,” your sound is weak, “Fuck!”
“Careful with that,” he scolds, “Eyes on me.”
You quickly look up at his face, barely able to focus with how much he shakes your whole frame with every push of his lower body.
“Say sorry,” he commands, referring to your use of a swear word. He doesn’t relent one bit, rolling his hips again and again.
“S-sorry,” you apologize, too focused on how your orgasm is already approaching, “Please.”
“Hold on,” he slows down, and you nearly sob with how close you are, but he only does it to remove his shirt and uncover your chest again. Then he goes back to his frantic thrusts, eyes fixated on the way that your tits bounce with every push of his hips.
“‘M close, Daddy,” you hiccup, feeling your heartbeat in all parts of your body. You throw your head back and groan loudly at the head of the bed, “I’m so close.”
If you weren’t holding onto your underwear, you would be clutching the bed frame so hard that your knuckles were white. Instead, the fabric is pulled so taut by your fingers that it hurts when it digs into your skin. You probably don’t have to do it so roughly but the pleasure racking up your spine makes you need it.
“Don’t hold back, baby,” he encourages with ragged breathing. Confident that you won’t let go as you orgasm, he lets go of himself and grabs both of your hips. He hoists you up a little, leans forward a little further, and then drives his hips back and forth, cockhead sliding over your clit repeatedly.
“I’m gonna— Oh my God, I’m gonna come, I’m gonna come, I’m gonna come,” you say it like you’re almost in a panic, almost too overwhelmed to embrace the intensity you’re about to experience. You want to push him away and pull him in at the same time but he holds you so roughly in place that you just have to take it. Your eyes find his as you let it happen, “I’m coming! Daddy, oh f— I’m coming!”
“Yeah? My love bug’s coming?” He nods as encouragement, “Come for me, darlin’ baby.”
And my God, you do. You can feel your whole pelvic floor erupt into beautiful spasms of pleasure, your clit pulsing so fast and strongly that you are sure that Joel can feel it against his dick. You thank God that he is holding onto you because you are twitching and moving involuntarily as he continues his sweet torment, and tears stream down your face.
“That’s it, baby doll, you just cry all ya want,” Joel manages to coo between his own moans. You sob as your orgasm peaks, even more when you slip into a state of oversensitivity. Joel doesn’t relent, “Oh, baby. I know, baby, I know.”
It isn’t until your panties start to tear that he draws back, precome beading at the slit of his cock from how turned on he is. He is smeared with your arousal too, pearly white, and he seems to have put all the strength he has into holding back so you don’t pass out.
You shiver, trying to make sense of why your body chose to make you come so hard from a simple clit orgasm. The sweat on your body suddenly feels cold, and you reach for him until he leans down and kisses your lips. You whimper into his mouth. He wipes away a few tears.
“You okay?” He asks softly, pulling back slightly to look you in the eyes as you reply.
“Yes, sorry.”
“No, no. Don’t apologize,” he tuts, “You were gorgeous. God, I am so crazy about you.”
“Now you,” you insist, looking down between the two of you to see the red tip of his weeping cock, “You promised.”
“That I did,” he draws back until he is on his knees again. He grabs the base of his dick, strokes it a few times, and then lays it against the crotch of your underwear.
Joel rubs the head fast against the soft fabric. He holds onto your thighs, neck muscles straining as he seeks out his own pleasure. You watch him whilst delirious with post-orgasmic bliss, occasionally whimpering when he unintentionally slides over your swollen clit.
A moment later, after one of your particularly high whines, he comes with a short breath of relief. He stains the fabric, lays his cock heavy against the front of the underwear, and pulses until he has no more to give. It’s intense to see him like this, and you find yourself grabbing his wrist to keep him in the moment with you.
“Christ, sweetheart,” he pants. He slumps a little.
“I thought it was love bug,” you say with irresistible charm.
“Don’t make me tell you to lick ‘em clean, young lady,” he smirks, already crawling forward to lay down on top of you. He crushes you so heavenly with his weight, pretending-biting your cheek and causing you to snicker, “Are we clear?”
You hold him close, relishing in everything that he is, “We’re clear. I’ll behave. Somewhat.”
“Somewhat?” He nuzzles into your neck and presses a kiss.
“Well, I don’t think I’m quite satisfied,” you say dramatically.
Joel pulls back to glare at you, “What is that supposed to mean?”
“Well, I need you inside me too,” you pout even more dramatically, “Pussy feels so lonely, Daddy. Needs something.”
“Well, we can’t starve this insatiable pussy, can we?” Joel catches on quickly, and soon, he has you screaming on three of his fingers.
.
.
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#pedro pascal characters#joel miller x reader#pedro pascal fanfic#pedro pascal smut#joel miller fic#joel the last of us#joel tlou#joel x reader#joel miller the last of us#joel miller imagine#joel miller fanfic#joel miller smut#joel miller#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller x you#my writing#the last of us#joel x you#dbf!joel
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The Neighbor
Hello friends I fucked off for a month but I’m back and I bring Price smut as an apology for my absence. @sky-is-the-limit’s “Im here to do what your boyfriend cant” prompt has lived in my brain rent free ecer since I read it and while I didn’t follow it verbatim, I did keep in spirit with the theme :)
Also womp I was gone for the Price challenge by @glitterypirateduck but this actually checks off a couple of the prompt options (first time being intimate, a confession/secret is discovered/revealed) so I’m submitting it.
There are a lot of tags. Make sure you read them.
Pairing| John Price x Reader Rating| M Word Count| 4.8k Kinks/Content/Warnings| Accidental voyuerism by virtue of living in an apartment, the reader has a dogshit boyfriend at the beginning of the fic (there is no cheating), slut shaming (from the dogshit boyfriend), these two idiots are down bad for each other, sex toys, oral (F!receiving), unprotected PiV, gratuitous squirting because I’m me, not really heavy on BDSM elements but mentions of the following: bondage/restraints (John uses his hands, nothing crazy), something akin to subspace from how good the nut is, aftercare, John is a prick to the now-ex, very brief angst due to a quick misunderstanding, very vaguely implied somnophilia, rampant abuse of italics. Lemme know if I missed anything.
His neighbor is clearly used to Price being deployed.
She’s a sweet thing, really, and on the whole isn’t that disagreeable of a neighbor.
He just has one problem with her (not even her, really) that is a thorn in his fucking side- her boyfriend.
The boyfriend was not an issue when they first met- wasn’t in the picture at all.
And no John most assuredly hasn’t had it out for the guy since Day 1. The fact that John had gathered himself up to ask his pretty neighbor out when he came back from his latest mission, only to find out about the new boyfriend, does not color his impression of the other man. He’s grown and this is not the first time his advances have been turned away for whatever reason.
But there are, to his knowledge, no true redeeming qualities about the man and he is about as useful as a screen door on a submarine.
He catches bits and pieces through the walls. The boyfriend is not attentive, caring, or sweet to her. She is treated as a guest in her own home, and twice he’s heard bellowing shouts that had Price at the door with his fist banging against it- both to shut him up and make it exceptionally well known that if the boyfriend thinks intimidating a woman is going to fly, that Price will not hesitate to kick the door in.
The most appalling part of it all is that John has a front row seat to just how atrocious he is in bed.
For the life of him John does not understand. It’s not even like the lad’s a good lay.
He’s heard many stories of women tolerating absolutely atrocious behavior from the muppets they were with because he knew how to make them see stars.
That is exceptionally not the case here. And John is rapidly finding his patience wearing thin at continually being subjugated to his pathetic performance.
So what the hell is it about the boyfriend that keeps his neighbor so enamored with him?
John stares at the ceiling, watching the blades of the fan turn as he tries to tune out the thumping of the headboard against the wall.
He thinks that if the man was just a bad lay and completely incapable of getting her anywhere, that would be one thing and John would continue to be frustrated but ultimately understand. But it’s the way he seems to actively ruin it anytime she has the audacity to enjoy having sex with him that truly grates on John’s nerves.
It’s not often, but even a blind squirrel finds a nut every now and then. The thumping of the headboard is accompanied by her sweet voice moaning lowly in short staccato notes as the boyfriend appears to finally be doing something right.
The thumping comes to a halt, and John groans in frustration.
“Why’d you stop?” He can hear his pretty neighbor lament through the thin walls.
“Why the fuck are you being so loud? Trying to give the neighbor a show?”
John squints his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose in annoyance. The fucking muppet can’t do anything right.
If the neighbor was his, John wouldn’t give a fuck who heard. Let all the neighbors know that he could fuck the sense clear out of her pretty little head. John could show the muppet what loud is.
“No! I’m not trying to do anything- it just felt good,” she defends herself.
“Well, be quieter about it, no one needs to hear that. You sound like a whore,” the muppet snaps at her irritably, and John is nearly at his fucking limit when the god damn headboard starts to thump against the wall again.
“Get out.”
Oh.
John is impressed- pleasure and pride coursing through him as his sweet neighbor stands up for herself rather than letting that ungrateful swine continue to berate her.
Good fucking girl.
“What did you just say?” The thumping stops.
“You don’t get to call me names. Get off of me and get out.”
For all his sins, it seems even the muppet has a line he’s not willing to cross.
There’s a shifting as he presumably pulls out and gets off the bed- the words are muffled but the tone is clear. The muppet isn’t above laying into her verbally though consent is (smartly) a line he won’t toe.
And good thinking on his part- John would probably tear through the drywall and turn him into a chew toy had that conversation gone in any other direction.
The door slams loudly, announcing the boyfriend’s departure.
John can’t help but keep his attention on his neighbor to see what her reaction is going to be. It is taking every ounce of self control he has to not follow the boyfriend and wring his neck in the parking lot.
There’s no conventional guide for how to address this situation with your neighbor. ‘Hello, I’ve fancied you for quite some time and that ungrateful prick somehow swept you up before I got the nerve to ask you out. I've had to hear you have the most lackluster sex ever for the past several months, and equal parts want to check in on how you’re doing emotionally after his latest stunt, and also want to bend you over and pin you to the mattress until you’re squealing. May I come in?’
He can’t say he is too surprised to hear things slamming about in the apartment- his pretty neighbor sounding more pissed off than upset, catching snippets of “Who the fuck does he think he is, talking to me like that” and “Motherfucker couldn’t find my clit with a map and a headlamp but can find the audacity to call me names-”
Okay, John has to fight back the urge to laugh at that last one lest she hear him. She’s quite the viper when (finally) provoked, and it just endears her more to him.
She doesn’t appear particularly distraught, the slamming and huffing and muttering concluding with her tossing herself on the bed.
It’s a very common occurrence that after the neighbor’s rendezvous with her lazy boyfriend, John is treated to a show where she finishes herself off with her toys.
The boyfriend, like many inadequate men, is threatened by them and John has heard the snide remarks.
Hilarious, he finds it, that a man incapable of getting her off is so adamant that she gets rid of them.
She hasn’t listened, clearly, as the low sound of her vibrator can be heard through the wall.
John is soon graced with the sound of her panting moans. His cock stiffens in interest at her voice, which is a frequent occurrence. She makes such pretty noises, mewling and whimpering as she works herself up.
Tonight is a whirlwind of emotions for his pretty neighbor, and at the end of the day her no-good boyfriend left her high and dry.
John will gladly enjoy the consequences of the boyfriend’s actions, one hand wrapping around his cock and beginning to stroke in time with her whines.
What he wouldn’t give for a chance to make her see stars. He’d be so good to her.
The reality of his job makes dating a logistical nightmare, part of what stayed his hand for so long.
He’s not blind. His neighbor is kind and sweet with a killer smile and wandering eyes. He’s caught her more than once ogling him when he’s returned home in uniform, or more nondescript tactical clothing.
Feeling her gaze on him always makes him puff up with pride, enjoying holding her attention no matter how fleeting. If he takes his time after a run and makes a point to pull the hem of his shirt up to wipe at his brow where she can see it, that’s his business.
So John thinks he’s dreaming when he hears that lovely voice whimper his name from the other side of the wall.
He stiffens, quietly waiting to see if he hears it again.
“John- Oh, fuck- please,” is all he needs to hear before he’s well and truly lost any semblance of patience.
Only having the presence of mind to dress himself enough to not warrant any errant looks from the other neighbors, he is at her door in a second.
It’s only after he knocks that he realizes he may well have killed whatever momentum she’s built for herself- given her muttering as she approaches the door- but he fully intends to make up for the stolen release.
She opens the door without looking through the peephole, obviously expecting it to be the ex based on the vitriol poised to spill at John’s chest, approximately eye level with where the (hopefully ex) boyfriend would be.
Once again he has to stifle a laugh, finding her a comical vision when the anger on her face melts away as her eyes flick up to his face with the realization that it is him at the door and not the object of her ire.
“What are you doing here, John?” Christ, he’s always been a sucker for pretty doe eyes. If he held even an ounce less of restraint he’d be mounting her right here for everyone to see.
“I’m here to do what your sorry excuse of a boyfriend can’t.”
Even as he reaches out to pull her in for a kiss, he’s watching her body language- gauging if she stiffens or shifts away.
She doesn’t.
In fact, her arms loop behind him and pull him closer, tugging on his hair and his shirt.
John’s not wasting any more time than he already has, walking her backwards into the apartment and shutting the door with his foot before reaching back to lock it- he’s got no desire for any interruptions from wayward former boyfriends.
They separate for a moment as she paws at the hem of his shirt, clearly wanting it off of him. John is all too happy to oblige, preening under her attention. He’s always had the stockier build of a man who’s fitness came from utility in the field, opposed to the hard defined abs of someone who spends most of their time in the gym.
It’s cute, the way she has to pry her eyes up to his face- clearly liking what she sees and flustered by the fact that John can see her staring.
“I broke up with him,” she clarifies.
“Good,” is his simplistic response, although if John’s being honest with himself he doesn’t really care about the finer details. The little prick never deserved to have her and John finally has his chance to prove himself worthy.
“The bedroom’s this way,” she prompts between kisses.
Their clothes are peeled off in turns as they stumble towards the room. The layout is inverted to John’s own flat nextdoor, so despite having never stepped foot inside before he guides her to keep her from crashing into something behind her.
By the time they are collapsing against her bed, they’re stripped of everything except a scant thong on her and his own boxers.
She’s just so delightfully soft in his grip, John can’t keep his hands or his mouth off of her.
The feeling is reciprocated as she pushes up off the bed to grind against him. As much as he’s relishing in them dry humping and making out like teenagers, he’s wanted her for so long and now that she’s finally willing and pliant underneath him, he’s itching for a taste of her.
Kissing his way down her body- starting at her jaw, the column of her neck, across her collar bone, down her sternum; latching onto each nipple and teasing them to hardened peaks before continuing his path down.
He’s compelled by the urge to turn her into a chew toy as he reaches her belly, although he stifles that urge and keeps his teeth to himself.
He can’t quite resist giving a small nip as she squirms, clearly excited by the implication of where he’s heading.
There’s a damp spot on her underwear already as he kisses along the waistband while his hands tease with the elastic on either side of her hips.
The sound of her breath hitching in anticipation makes him smirk, attention drifting further south.
The fabric is in his way as he presses a kiss against her clothed cunt, gripping handfuls of her hips to keep her still as she bucks in his grasp.
“Easy, sweetheart- we’ve got all night,” he soothes before moving his attention up one thigh to the backside of her knee.
Those sweet thighs are splayed open for him, giving John unfettered access as he continues to tease.
“When’s this sweet cunt been eaten last, hm?”
He knows he’s heard her give that undeserving muppet head, but can’t recall any reciprocation occuring. There’s not much that can shock John at this point in his life, and he’s willing to roll the dice by dragging up her now-ex because he knows this poor thing hasn’t been eaten until she’s begging him off in ages.
“I couldn’t even begin to tell you,” she answers breathlessly, anticipating having her thighs twitching in his hold.
Out of the corner of his eye, John spies a torn condom wrapper that didn’t quite make it into the bin. Well that keeps him from having to ask two questions, then. Smart girl.
“What a shame,” he tsks lightly, peppering kisses back up and down her thigh.
Deciding that she’s waited long enough and he’s had his fun being a tease, John is quick to remove the scant lace and pull it off of her legs before tossing it to who-knows-where.
The sounds she makes as he makes a meal out of her is music to his ears. Each hitched moan and breathy whimper makes him stiffen in interest.
His attention shifts to focus on her clit, tongue circling the sensitive nub as his hands hold her hips in place.
As focused as he is on what’s right in front of him, it takes a moment for John to realize that she’s stifling her noises. One hand is fisting the sheets beneath her while the other is clamped across her lips.
Well. That simply won’t do.
The ex may have trained and shamed her into silence, but John didn’t make it as a military captain without learning how to break someone else’s bad habits.
He ignores her whimper of protest as he stops, one hand abandoning the softness of her hip in favor of grabbing her wrist and pulling her hand away from her mouth.
“None of that,” he admonishes gently, pressing a kiss to one thigh. “Let me hear you.”
“I-I’m too loud,” she protests and for a split second John sees red.
To his credit, he does not leave her wet and leaking on the bed to go bludgeon her ex to death with a blunt object.
“No such thing, sweetheart,” he soothes before having a thought to tease her. “Who are you worried is going to hear you?” He asks kindly, a shit eating grin as he speaks again, “the neighbor?”
Her wide eyed expression is thoroughly scandalized and John can’t fight the chuckle that escapes him.
He hasn’t released her wrist yet, deciding that it’s time to get back to his meal. If she abandons gripping the sheet with her free hand to cover her mouth again, he simply plans to hold both of her wrists.
It’s tentative at first, still not entirely trusting John at his word that he wants to hear her.
But John is all for positive reinforcement as a motivator, crooking his fingers to stroke that one spot that makes her see stars to encourage more from her.
She’s a quick study, although when she releases the sheet John is watching her like a hawk.
Rather than clasping over her mouth again, John is pleased when her fingers end up burying in his hair.
More than happy to let her guide him, John takes his cues from how she pulls at his hair. The feel of her thighs twitching as she breathes in staccato breaths is all the reward he needs.
“You’re getting close,” he says against her cunt, pointing out the obvious before getting back to work. She’s anxious, he thinks, the closer she gets to her climax. Poor girl doesn’t know what to do with herself with an orgasm she hasn’t had to put all the work into.
“D-don’t stop,” she stammers, rewarded immediately with John redoubling his efforts.
He’s not going to stop. Pretty thing like her deserves nothing less than laying on her back and enjoying getting her cunt eaten out.
“O-oh fuck,” is his only warning before she’s gushing on his face and John is like a kid on Christmas morning.
He doesn’t even know if she realizes she’s squirted, too caught up in the pleasure of her high.
He’s always thought it was hot- now that he knows his pretty neighbor is a squirter he is more than willing to get on his knees and pray to whoever is listening that this isn’t a one time event. He’ll do anything to get her to keep him.
Even as her high fades he doesn’t let up on her, continuing to work his middle and ring finger inside of her. All he wants is to see her cum- wants to see those eyes roll as she squeezes them shut in anticipation.
Despite pulling his face away from her wet pussy, he doesn’t leave her clit unattended for long before his thumb is gently circling in time with the thrusts of his fingers.
Kissing his way back up her body, John can’t help but be pleased as she pulls him in to make out with him. Snatched gasps and bucks of her hips grace his ears as he works her from orgasm to the next, the wet sound of his palm slapping against her.
“John Im gonna cum again,” she whimpers in warning.
He feels like a god with the way she stares up at him reverently, eyes wide and desperate for another climax.
“Come on,” he goads, “Show me- let me see your face when you cum.”
Christ if her leg twitches any harder it’s going to start vibrating, serving to only encourage him.
“O-oh,” she mewls, “God- don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t-“ she’s pleading with him like he wouldn’t sit at her feet if she asked him to.
The bewildered look on her face is darling, and John nearly finishes untouched; he's so wound up it’s not going to take much.
A few choice thoughts keep his own eminent climax at bay and buys him enough breathing room. She bucks and trembles in his hold, a high pitched squeal escaping her as he proves not only can he make her cum twice, but he can make her squirt like a faucet twice.
As soon as she’s starting to come down from her high she’s pulling at him, drawing up her knees to spread her legs in invitation.
“Greedy girl,” he teases as he kisses her- wet fingers abandoning her cunt in favor of manhandling her, wrapping her legs around his waist as he positions himself.
“Please, please, please-“ she begs so prettily for him, pleading for him to do exactly what he’s been fantasizing about for months.
He’s not a small man and mindful of that fact, but she’s well prepped and takes him easily. The desperate whimper that escapes her sears into John’s memory.
The buildup of everything finally gets to him as he wastes no time setting a steady pace.
“That’s it, sweetheart, just like that. Let me hear you,” he encourages as she cants her hips in time with his, whines of pleasure escaping her on each thrust.
“John, please,” she begs, eyebrows furrowing in pleasure as she watches where they’re joined.
“Eyes up here,” he instructs and Christ he almost loses it when her gaze flicks from between their bodies up to his face.
His hands find hers, fingers lacing together as he lowers his torso in order to kiss the ethereal creature underneath him.
She whimpers into his mouth, her sounds only encouraging John.
Everything about her is warm and inviting, from her soft skin to her warm cunt and the way she sings for him at every thrust.
Maneuvering them so he can grip both her wrists with one of his hands, the other immediately dives between their bodies to find her clit again.
His pretty neighbor has spent months not having an orgasm she didn’t give herself, and John is determined to prove to her that he can give her as many as she can handle.
“John I can’t cum again,” she pleads even as her thighs shake on either side of him.
“Yes you can,” he assures her. “One more time for me, yeah?”
Now, should she insist she’s done and satisfied then John would leave her clit alone and finish up their fun. As it is, though, she nods in acquiescence before the trembling in her thighs increases.
“Good girl,” he praises, fingers continuing their steady pace around her clit as she creeps closer to the edge.
She’s babbling in his ear as he presses a kiss to her temple and he knows she’s almost there.
“Good girl,” he praises again, a cocksure grin pulling at the corners of his lips at her immediate response.
“My good girl,” he ups the ante, testing her response to John staking a claim on her. And God did it ever work. That last little bit is all it takes to finally tip her over.
She clenches down on him like a vice and John immediately loses it, groaning low as the haze of his orgasm washes over him.
It’s everything he wants- she’s everything he wants as he recovers enough from his climax to finally notice that the bed is an utter mess beneath them.
It’s not his immediate concern however, more interested in soothing her through the come down of her high. She’s shivering underneath him, eyes glossy from the intensity of her last orgasm.
“Easy, sweetheart,” he murmurs reassuringly. “Just breathe for me.”
He gathers her up in his arms, listening as her heartbeat relaxes in time with his own.
Eventually when enough time passes she’s more alert and happily snuggling against his chest. After giving her a chance to rest he herds her along to the bathroom so she doesn’t give herself a UTI. She tries to brush him off but her legs are taking their sweet time cooperating again.
Of course, she’s not exactly a recruit taking a piss test so he gives her her privacy and she’s able to return on her own albeit on shaky legs.
John pets at her head idly, attention drifting in post coital bliss as his hand strokes down along her back.
“I can’t believe you’re actually in my bed,” she giggles deliriously after a stretch of quiet.
“Only reason I wasn’t here sooner was because of that muppet,” he assures her. He doesn’t want her thinking that this is a one time thing for him. He’s wanted her for so long he can’t possibly be expected to turn her loose at the end of the night.
“I only dated him because I didn’t think you liked me,” she scoffs at herself.
“Oh, it was nearly the first moment I laid eyes on you. But with my work I kept talking myself out of doing anything,” he tells her. “Kept telling myself you deserve better. And then you brought the muppet home and kept him around,” John grouses good naturedly at her. “Think they say the definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting a different result.”
“I plead temporary insanity,” she jokes, snuggling closer against his chest. “But I got rid of him. And you finally made your move.”
He hums in agreement, sleep pulling at him now that he has her tucked up against his side.
John doesn’t remember falling asleep but he wakes with a jolt to the sound of pounding on her door.
He’s only been out for an hour or so when he checks the clock on the nightstand, his neighbor sprawled out next to him.
Well, now he knows she snores. The sound is light enough to have never heard it through the wall, but curled up next to him she’s like a cat purring loudly in his ear.
And he’s exceptionally pissed right off at the fact someone has woken him up. Especially considering he has one guess who it is.
He fully debates answering the door buck ass naked to teach the prick a lesson about banging on doors after midnight but settles on tossing his joggers on.
Much like when she opened the door for John, the ex is automatically trained at where her head would be rather than looking at John’s face.
“My eyes are here,” he quips sarcastically. “Why the fuck are you banging on the door this late.”
“Why th-“ the ex starts to parrot back before cutting himself off. “Why the fuck are you in her apartment? Why isn’t she answering?”
“She’s asleep,” John answers simply. There’s no obligation to explain the why and how he ended up in her apartment.
“What the fuck do you mean she’s asleep? How is she asleep after she just dumped me? And why the fuck are you here?”
The boyfriend (the ex boyfriend, he thinks with glee) is either oblivious or…
Well. The ex boyfriend is oblivious. Let’s just keep it at that.
“I’m here because you can’t do your job right. She’s asleep because I can. What part of that is confusing?”
“That stupid slag’s been fucking you behind my back-“
“No.” John is somewhat mindful of not giving a full on “screaming at recruits” bellow, but his voice booms into the corridor outside the apartment anyway. “You watch your fucking mouth. This” John gestures vaguely at his own presence in her flat, “just happened after she dumped you. You don’t get to hurl insults.”
“She hopped off of my cock and straight to yours- what the fuck else is it?”
“You couldn’t get her off,” John hisses in annoyance. “I’ve had front row seats to your shitty little performance more than once. Not 5 minutes after you leave and she’s having to handle it herself.”
“I can’t be expected to compete with a fucking vibrator!”
“Well I sure as shit didn’t need one to get the job done. Poor girl could barely get her legs to work to go to the loo and not give herself a UTI. Your skill issues are what started all of this.”
“You know what? Fucking have her. I don’t need this shit.”
Ah yes, because John needs the ex’s permission to date a newly single woman. Absolutely. That’s entirely how that works.
“Never needed your blessing. Now fuck off. I’m trying to sleep.”
The ex responds with a two finger salute as he spins on his heel and storms off.
John is almost tempted to grab him by the back of his neck and turn him into a chew toy. Given his military career, his patience for muppets giving him attitude is virtually nonexistent.
But the siren call of his pretty neighbor is a stronger pull than the muppet can ever hope to achieve. John’s succeeded in his mission to run the prick off, and he’s going to try to get a few more hours of sleep before seeing if she’s interested in another romp in the morning when she wakes up.
The bedroom is dark and poorly lit but John immediately picks up on the silence.
Rather than being sprawled out and snoring like when he left her, she’s quiet and curled into a ball.
She’s awake.
“Sweetheart?” He calls softly.
She jolts, fabric rustling from the sheets falling off her as she sits up.
“You’re still here,” the surprise in her tone cuts, although he knows she didn’t mean for it to.
She seems to realize how that comes across and clarifies further, “I- I heard the door shut.”
It falls into place for him then- she woke up to the sound of the door and John nowhere to be found. She thought he’d left.
“Oh, sweetheart,” he consoles, making his way back to the bed. “You’re not getting rid of me that easily,” he assures her while gathering her back into his arms.
Sleep comes back readily once the two of them are situated back in the bed.
Come morning, John’s got the patience and the presence of mind to throw a towel on the bed. He finds out for himself that his neighbor makes the prettiest noises with her arse propped up in the air and her face still buried in her pillow.
He can’t help but laugh later when she texts him that one of the neighbors made a noise complaint.
Age in bio/pinned or I will block you ♡
#ocaptainchallenge#john price x reader#captain john price#price x reader#cod x reader#x reader#implied plus size reader#take a shot every time john calls the reader pretty#but dont or youll get alcohol poisoning#also I used ‘turn into a chew toy’ 3 times and I dont care :)#my writing
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HELLO BEAUTIFUL I saw the MV of boxer enha AND LEMME TELL YOU BOXER SUNGHOON 😩 so I was wondering if you can make a drabble of Boxer! Sunghoon and reader and they get in to A LOT of sexy stuff? 😚 ALSO like a mean Dom Sunghoon? <3
Have a nice day pretty
Pairing ⇀ Boxer! Park Sunghoon x (F) Reader
Synopsis ⇀ You decided to visit Sunghoon at his boxing practice. But upon seeing him practice, you couldn’t help but feel a sexual way watching him practicing so focused and determined. So what happens when you decide to tease him while he’s practicing?
Genre ⇀ Pure Smut
Warnings ⇀ MINORS DNI!!!, Cursing, Sunghoon and reader are both a tease, Making out, Mean Dom! Sunghoon x Sub! Reader, Blowjob, Eating out, Humiliation, Overstimulation (f), Receiving (m&f), Doggy style, No protection (wrap it up), Cum swallowing, Multiple orgasms, Hickeys, Crying, Biting, Semi-public sex, Rough sex, Name calling (slut, good girl, etc.), Fingering, lmk if i missed anything!
W.c ⇀ 2.1k
A/n ⇀ You don’t even ask twice for that because I’m LIVING for Boxer Sunghoon. Kind of made it longer than I anticipated but I hope it meets your standards bb. If you would like to be on the perm tag list click here! Like, Reblog, Comment, and etc! Not proofread!
You arrived at Sunghoons boxing gym, the air thick with the sounds of fists hitting punching bags and the occasional grunts of other men there. The rhythmic thudding of gloves against leather filled the room. You decided to pay Sunghoon a visit at his practice matches. It wasn’t everyday you get to see him in action.
As you stepped inside, your eyes immediately started searching for Sunghoon. And when you finally saw him, in the middle of the ring, his body glistening with sweat, muscles rippling under his tank top, focus etched deeply into his brow. He moved with precision and power. His focus was unbreakable, each punch thrown with skill and intensity. You assumed he didn’t noticed you with how focused he was.
You couldn't help but admire him, his dedication and strength evident in every movement. That’s when he finally glanced up and saw you standing there, a smile spreading across his face. He glanced back at the guy who he was practicing with, giving a him a dab before quickly making his way over to you, his eyes lighting up with happiness.
"Hey, you," He said, leaning in to give you a quick kiss, "Didn’t think you would actually make it."
You gave him a teasing smile, your heart skipping a beat at the brief but sweet gesture, “Wouldn't miss it for the world. Besides, you promised you’d take me out to dinner after.”
Sunghoon gave you a little chuckle, “Of course pretty. Just give me a few more minutes.” He spoke, his voice low. You felt slickness between your legs and mentally cursed yourself for feeling sexual i a public area.
But then again, you couldn’t help yourself with the way he stares at you, as if he wanted the other men know that he owns you. Sunghoon gave one last look at you, sending a wink before heading back to the ring, his focus shifting back to his training.
You watched him, mesmerized by the way he moved, each punch and dodge executed with perfect form. You didn’t notice the gym started to empty out, the sounds of practice gradually fading as people left for the day.
With the gym now almost empty, you decided to have a little fun. You walked over to the edge of the ring, leaning against the ropes as you called out to him, "Hey, champ, need a break?"
Sunghoon looked over at you, a playful smirk on his face, he knew exactly what you were trying to do, “Are you trying to distract me?"
"Maybe," you replied, your tone teasing, "Or maybe I just want to see if you can handle a little distraction."
He chuckled, stepping out of the ring and walking over to you, "Oh, I can handle it. The question is, can you?"
You raised an eyebrow, a mischievous grin spreading across your face, "Why don't you come find out?"
Sunghoon closed the distance between you, his eyes locked on yours. You leaned in, feeling hit hot breath fanning your lips. But just as your lips were about to touch, he smirked and gently pushed you back.
"Not so fast," He teased, his voice low, "I've still got some training to do."
You stood there, stunned. What the fuck? As he turned and walked back to the ring. He glanced over his shoulder with a wink, his eyes twinkling with amusement. You hated when he did that, "Patience, love," He said, before resuming his practice, leaving you both flustered and confused.
You watched him with a pout on your unkissed lips. But you couldn’t help but feel like getting him back. Besides, he deserves it right. You knew Sunghoon like the back of your hand, it’ll be easy getting him all hot and bothered.
After a few minutes, you decided to turn up the heat. You slowly took off your jacket, letting it drop to the floor, "Is it just me, or is it really hot in here?" You asked, your voice carrying a hint of innocence.
Sunghoon didn't look at you, but he nodded, his focus still on his training, “Yeah, it's pretty warm. The guys don’t really like the cold here."
You frowned not seeing him look at you. That’s when you suddenly got an idea and grinned, deciding to take it a step further. You tucked your shirt up a bit, revealing your stomach, just enough to catch his attention, "Hey, Sunghoon, can I ask you something?"
This time, he stopped mid-punch and turned to look at you. His eyes widened seeing the sight of you. Jacket on the floor with you leaning backwards with your stomach peaking out. One more tuck up then your bra would be in view. A pink dust spread across his cheeks as he took in the thought of you like that. It was quiet for a few seconds before he snapped and made eye contact with you.
"What... what is it?" He stammered, unable to tear his gaze away from you.
You smiled, clearly enjoying the effect you had on him, "Oh, nothing important. Just wanted to see if you were paying attention."
Sunghoon shook his head, a huff coming out, as if he was controlling himself. As if he doesn’t wanna fall for your tricks, “You definitely have my attention now," He admits.
You laughed softly, feeling a sense of pride, “Well I don’t think I need it anymore. You can go back to practicing.” You mumbled, but Sunghoon heard you. He nodded, knowing that if he spoke his voice would definitely sound needy. So, he continued practicing once again.
You decided to unclip your bra and take it off, also dropping that on the floor. Your perky nipples in clear view. You felt the room thicken within seconds. You slowly led your hand towards your cloth core, rubbing your wet folds, letting out a soft moan.
Sunghoon let out a pained groan and rubbed his neck, probably because he dodged so many punches from the other guy earlier. That's when he looked over at you and saw you rubbing your folds and fiddling with your perky nipples, letting out pitiful moans. Your eyes were closed, clearly not noticing him stopping and staring right at you.
The sight in front of him definitely made him rock hard. Fuck. Finally, without warning, Sunghoon ripped off his gloves and tossed them to the ground. His sudden movement startled you, and before you could react, he was striding towards you with a lustful hard look in his eyes. Your heart raced as he closed the distance between you in a matter of seconds.
His hands found your waist, and he pulled you against him with a roughness that took your breath away. Before you could utter a word, his lips crashed into yours, demanding and intense. The kiss was fierce, filled with all the pent-up frustration and desire he'd been holding back.
You immediately wrapped your arms around his neck, melting into him. His hands roamed your back, pulling you even closer, while your fingers tangled in his hair, deepening the kiss. You let out a whimper feeling one of his legs push in between yours.
You immediately began grinding down, feeling your core brush against your underwear. It felt so good. Sunghoon gripped one of your breasts, squeezing them harshly. You broke the kiss and let out a loud moan.
You didn’t have time to react when Sunghoon dragged you to a mat that was laying down not far from you guys. He pushed you down on the mat, your back hitting it roughly. You let out a pained whimper before feeling Sunghoon get on top you.
“You wanna fucking act like a slut? Bothering me while I’m practicing for a big match.” He snapped. You gave him an innocent smile, your eyes fluttering. Fuck, you really like pissing him off. He didn’t waste any time sucking on your neck, hickeys forming. You squirmed and let out a mewl when he bit down.
“H-Hoonie- hic!- hurts!” You cried out. Sunghoon paid no mind to you. This is what you wanted right? He licked the bite mark gently before lifting his head up again. You felt intimidated by his intense gaze, looking away in humiliation, but Sunghoon was having any of that. He forcefully grabbed your jaw and made you look at him.
“If you wanna get fucked good then you’re gonna suck my dick.” He growled. You bit your lip and with teary eyes, you nodded. You didn’t waste a second, pulling down his sweats to see his cloth dick. You slowly pulled his boxers down, his dick springing free, slapping his stomach.
You softly wrapped your hands around it, stroking it lazily. Sunghoon watched you with an unreadable expression, almost as if he was bored. So, you opened your mouth, granting him full access to your mouth and putting his dick in. You let in a moan feeling him hit the back of your throat. Your face close to his pubic hair.
Sunghoon didn’t give a warning when he suddenly gripped your hair and took his dick out and pushed back in making you gag. Although you were slapping his thigh, he continued to thrust inside your mouth at a rough pace. You felt tears gather in your eyes again. Sunghoon loved it.
You heard his groans and curses and felt his dick twitch inside your mouth, indicating he was close. He gave out three more thrust before cumming deep in your throat. Sunghoon let out a hiss, taking his dick out of your mouth.
“Open.” He demanded. You opened your mouth, showing him you swallowed everything. He gave you a soft smile and rubbed your head, “Good girl.”
You couldn’t speak when he suddenly pushed you back down making you yelp. He slid off your shorts and underwear revealing your wet pussy. He licked his lips, his eyes gazing with lust. Before he could do anything, you held his head, “Shit, wait Sunghoon. W-We’re in public.” You whispered. Sunghoon paused and stared at you.
“You now noticed that after you sucked me off?” He said. You whined and Sunghoon sighed. He can’t say no to you, “I’ll make it fast.” He added. Besides, he really wanted to taste your sweet pussy.
He didn’t wanna hear you say anymore and flicked his tongue against your bud. You covered your mouth, but your moan was still heard. Sunghoon let out an ‘hmm’ tasting your sweet pussy. He noticed you covering your mouth and gave you a slap on your thigh. You stared at him dazed, “I wanna hear you.” He said.
You nodded and uncovered your mouth, feeling too drunk off of pleasure to say no. He then continued to lick your pussy. He sucked on your bud before licking your hole. You let out sighs and pants when he all of a sudden stuck a finger inside you while he was suckling on your bud.
“Oh god! s’good!” You moaned. You felt saliva dripping down your lips, but didn’t care to wipe it off. Sunghoon hums vibrated against your pussy and that’s when you felt your orgasm coming.
“Gonna cum! Cumming-“ You let out one last time before coming undone on Sunghoon tongue. He licked your juices, taking his finger out. You panted shaky and weak.
Sunghoon flipped you over, aligning his dick at your entrance. He slowly pushed in, making you both moan in unison. You squirmed under him, feeling overstimulated. Sunghoon chuckled, “Looks like my good girl can’t take it.”
You shook your head, “No! I-I can. Please Sunghoon- fuck me!” You begged. Sunghoon's eyes turned dark. You couldn’t comprehend what was happening when you felt him push deep inside you, knocking the air out of you.
The sound of loud skin slapping echoed in the gym. Someone had to have heard you guys. You let out loud moans and whimpers, feeling him so deep in you. Both of your bodies sticky with sweat. God the smell of sex was unbearable.
Sunghoon gripped your waist hard. He knows they’ll be bruised later on, and he fucking loves it. You arch your back more, giving Sunghoon even deeper access if it was even possible. His dick felt too good in you. It’s like your pussy was made for him.
You felt your orgasm coming, “H-Hoonie m’gonna cum again- ah!” You screamed, your orgasm crashing. Sunghoon threw his head back and came seconds later, his cum spurting inside. You felt so full.
He took his now soft dick out and pulled up his sweatpants and boxers. He helped you up and gave you a towel so you can fix yourself up. After you were done you noticed Sunghoon already having his bag in his hand. You smiled at him softly. Sunghoon smiled back, feeling his heart race. He loved your afterglow.
You both walked out the gym, hand in hand. You didn’t know gym sex was something you wanna plan on doing again, but when Sunghoon kisses your hand gently and gives you a loving look, who are you to complain?
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Something in your mouth
(joel miller x f!reader)
The third installment of Never made it as a wise man aka creed!joel
WC: 8.4k | Part 1 | Part 2 | Other fics | Rating: 18+
Summary: post hand job and phone sex; it’s the leadup and part 1 of these horny bishes goin’ on a date
Note: heyyyyy it’s me and i’m back on my bs . i know i promised the fuckening, but that was summer me and now it’s winter me.. so instead of hiding and never updating, i remembered i have free will so u get the full week lead-up and the first half of the date.. and then i’ll brb with the fuckfest okay? i promise. (also it’s actually almost done this time so it won’t take months). again, i am still merely a vessel for the spirit of buttrock joel. hopefully this part 3 is girthy enough to sate your appetite a lil bit
Tags: au no outbreak modern joel, divorced dad rock dilf joel x f!reader, picks up right where pt 2 ended, alternating pov, dirty talk, horny yearning, blowjob in the truck, still crackish, but i am still dead serious about it being hot so idc, mistakes are all mine
Thanks to Nickelback for having non stop horny bangerz to quote such as Something in your mouth
major thanks to @hoelaris for this moodboard that made me weep tears of joy bc is it so perfect
thanks to @magneticecstasy for date joel thots to be ft in this pt and the next, @auteurdelabre for telling me to let them have their happy ending so i can get back to the paris boys faster, to @syd-djarin for support, horny thots, song suggestions etc, and @itwasntimethatdidit40 for the nickelback pedro tiktok edit inspo
it really takes a village or whatever they say <3
*if u forgot what this is bc i took so long give Part 1 and Part 2 a read for a refresh <3
*if i missed ur tag or u want off this ride lemme know
okay, it's starting now:
You wake up in Joel’s shirt. It smells more like you than him already, but it still makes you grin devilishly just the same. You go about your day, a few errands and some chores, the whole time with a little more energy than usual.
When you’re back home and settled in to have a lazy afternoon, you get a little restless. Itchy fingers. It’s hard not to pick up your phone and check your messages again and again. You’re drawn to looking at the picture he sent, the pictures you took, and you can’t help wondering…
Did he wake up thinking of you? Hard, aching, and leaking at the memory of your voice.
Did he dream of all the nasty things he said he wanted to do to you? Waking up throbbing and frustrated, grinding his cock into the mattress as if you were beneath him.
Did he wake up and check his phone to confirm you were real? Making it all the way to the shower before surrendering, wishing it was your soft cunt he was fucking instead of his fist.
You know you’re fucked when just thinking about him thinking about you has you so turned on. It’s so tempting to send him something else. Another picture? An audio message? A thinking of you 😘 text?
No. No, no, no.
You can wait him out. Make him work for it a little. He’s a full-grown man. You’ve already given him enough to work with. Plus, you wanna know what he’s gonna come up with next. Right?
The lazy Sunday ends all too soon and before you know it you’re back to work. Dragging ass into the office with the biggest iced coffee you could buy. You deserve a treat to get through your Monday anyway.
A little warning bell chimes in the back of your mind as you drop your things on your desk. Ellie grumbles a good morning that matches your enthusiasm for fluorescent lights at 8 am. A little seed of guilt sprouts within you.
Is it fucked up of you to mess around with Joel? It’s not like it’s something serious. Or, does that make it even worse? There’s no way he would say anything to her about it.
“Heard you saw Joel again,” she says before you’ve even sat down. Great.
“Uh, yeah,” you reply, “Still didn’t feel right that he wouldn’t accept anything for helping with my car.” You sink into your chair, hesitating to say more. It’s too early to have a good poker face.
“So you made him a lasagna?” She questions, staring you down.
“Men love my meat sauce,” you say with a shrug.
“Gross,” Ellie grimaces at that, “please, don’t ever say that again.”
You buy her off with the rest of the cookies you had baked. She’s happy to take the entire container from you and happier to enjoy them all immediately. If she’s suspicious she’s either good at hiding it or you really don’t know how to read her.
You carry on with your morning catching up on mindless tasks, swirling your coffee around as the ice starts to melt, and trying to stay focused. Ellie turns on her music and you can’t help thinking of Joel again. It’s like he’s infected your mind and every shitty 2000s post-grunge alt-rock song conjures him up.
You can’t help wondering what exactly he would’ve told Ellie about your surprise visit. Would he have asked about you? Implied anything? You can’t stop yourself from asking.
“What did he say?”
Ellie’s head swivels towards you immediately.
“Who?”
Instantly you know you messed up. You didn’t realize how much time had passed. You shouldn’t still be thinking of him. She prods you about what you said and what you meant. Not accepting a nothing or a never mind. An uncomfortable wave of embarrassment twists in your stomach, heat blooms in your cheeks, and your hands are fidgety.
You shouldn’t have brought it up, you shouldn't be so defensive. Shouldn’t, shouldn’t, shouldn’t.
Ellie is sharp–cutthroat–reading your every move. You stare at the empty Tupperware on her desk, hoping it will reveal some sort of escape plan. A strategy to deflect. It’s too late. Her eyes narrow just the slightest bit and she follows your gaze. It clicks.
“Oh, you meant Joel?”
You’re so busted. “I..uh,” you don’t know how to finish that thought.
“Why?” She gives you such a blank-faced look that it’s unsettling. You’re an adult. Why does this feel like you got caught sneaking out to see a boy on a school night?
You try to brush it off, but it sounds more defensive, making it worse. You focus on cracking your knuckles and trying to feign a more casual air. For some reason that means you keep talking. Broken sentences pouring out of you and trailing off into a stiff laugh.
Mercifully, Ellie cuts you off. Tells you it was Tommy who mentioned it.
So, he was the one who showed up while you had your legs spread open on Joel’s kitchen counter. The catalyst to your shirt heist and hasty getaway. That makes your face hot for a different reason.
“Oh. Gross.” Ellie groans.
“What?”
“You’ve got that look on your face.”
You snort at that. Only slightly horrified that she’s so adept at picking up the tells on your face. “What look?”
You suck down the last of your iced coffee, stalling, until you’re just sucking in air. You toss it in the tiny trash bin between the two of you and decide to be honest no matter what she says. You’d rather get ahead of it.
“Was it a sex lasagna?” Her mouth is pulled into a look of disgust.
You snort at that before shaking your head, preparing to get it all out.
“Okay, look. It was a thank-you lasagna.” You pause, trying to figure out exactly how much to share. “I didn’t plan the rest of it. It just…happened. And, fuck, it was so hot.”
Her face wrinkles with confusion, then disgust, then laughter. It makes your heart rate speed up.
“I’m sorry,” your words come out like a waterfall. “I don’t want to make things weird. I want us to be friends. I wasn’t thinking. I’m sure it wasn’t serious. I’ll tell you whatever you want. It was my fault. I showed up without letting him know. I made the first move—”
“You fold quick,” Ellie notes, interrupting you. She throws her hands up and you shut your mouth, “Look, you’re both adults, I don’t care what you do. Just, please, don’t tell me any of the sex details.”
“Do you really not care? Or like, you say I don’t care and then treat me like Cheryl in the front office?” you ask.
“No. I genuinely don’t give a shit. Well, I mean, if you break his heart I’ll have to kill you.”
“Naturally,” you agree with a solemn nod.
“But,” she pauses to take a breath, tilting her head before continuing, “it would probably be good for him, don’t think he’s had a real date in a while. But don’t come back to me broken-hearted if he’s a dick—that’s just his face.”
“A date?” you echo.
She groans and rolls her eyes at you, but it’s too late.
Your mind starts to wander. With Ellie’s blessing, you don’t have a reason not to give it a shot.
The harps are already strumming as you float off into your cloud of dissociation. Your favorite daydream flickers into focus as your eyes glaze over and a dazed grin curls on your face. It’s always that same slo-mo Baywatch-style memory. That one where you caught Joel wiping the sweat off his forehead with the bottom of his t-shirt. The original temptation that led you back to him.
Somehow, every time it replays, there’s a new easter egg just for you. The ghost of a knowing smirk or a sparkly-eyed wink when he catches your eye, like a wicked little tease to pull you deeper into the dream world.
Sometimes it’s all too visceral. In the privacy of your mind, you’re free to direct the scene how you’d like. Slowly panning over the peek of soft skin and the trail of hair you can see. You can still feel the warmth on your fingertips from when you slipped your hand beneath the waistband of those navy blue boxers.
Sometimes, you create something new. You’d like to take one of his sun-faded plastic green lawn chairs, drag it to the front porch, and sit yourself down for a show. You wanna watch him mow the grass in the evening heat.
You can see the sweat beads dotted along his neck and the contour of his marble-sculpted arms as he serpentines along your fantasy world front lawn.
You can smell the fresh-cut grass and the specific blend of sweaty man pheromones that Aphrodite concocted just for you.
Your chest swells, lungs expanding, as you breathe slowly and deeply. The illusory scents fill your lungs until you release a deep, yearnful sigh. The imaginary lawn mower almost drowns out the imaginary Fred Durst bellering, It’s just one of those days, from that little stereo on the workbench.
Before you can transition into another scenario—something bounces off your face, and you flinch with a loud yelp.
“That was your warning,” Ellie glares at you. “Next time I’m throwing something sharp.”
“Okay, okay, message received.” You offer a sheepish smile, and she turns around. It seems the Limp Bizkit song was very much not a figment of your imagination. Ellie mutters along to the lyrics behind you, barely audible, as you spin in your chair to get back to work.
It’s not even five minutes later when you swivel in your chair again with another question for Ellie.
There’s nothing like having a crush on a man you barely know to truly make you delusional. You know you’ve got it bad, but it’s unfortunately just so much fun to daydream and let your mind run wild with the very limited info you know about the man.
You don’t want to worry about anything that could go wrong.
Except for, well, everything.
You still fret over texting him first or waiting. Should you send another picture with no context? Should you call? Should you wait another day?
When you notice your chest feeling tight you give yourself a reality check. It’s Monday morning. You’re at work. He’s probably at work. You can figure it out later. A future you problem.
Joel’s text comes through late in the evening.
Joel: You wearing my shirt to bed again?
You’re grinning immediately. At hearing from him first and because he fucking clocked you. You snap a quick photo. Despite being on the spot, it’s thoughtfully crafted. Just enough to show the logo and only your mouth, not your face, no extra skin, no sexy tease. Just a confirmation. You send it off, and his reply buzzes seconds later.
Joel: More
You try to bite back the grin still stuck on your face as your fingers dance across the screen. You want to tell him off for being so blunt, but for some reason, it feels like such a compliment. You’ve definitely got it bad if a thirsty one-word text feels like high praise.
You aren’t going to give in this time. You’ve still got Ellie’s words echoing in your mind. A date. You type back one line.
You: Gonna have to earn it if you want more
Your phone rings shortly after your message is delivered. Joel’s name flashes on the screen and your stomach flips. You thought maybe he’d send another dick pic, but now he’s calling you? It does check out that he wouldn’t be the texting type, to be fair.
“Hey,” you answer, voice soft, a little tentative.
“You’re gonna make me work for it, huh?” His drawl is low, rough around the edges and so stupidly sexy it makes your nipples hard. You can just tell he’s already on edge. Delight floods your veins at the idea of him thinking of you all day.
“You could use a lesson in patience,” your voice is remarkably steady, despite the way your body is lit up. You chew at your lower lip. “Thought I told you that last time we were on the phone,” you chide.
A deep chuckle rumbles through the phone. “Patience,” he repeats. There’s a pause that has you holding your breath. “I don’t think you’re playin’ fair, baby. Knowing you’re in bed with my shirt on, teasin’ me with another picture.” His voice takes on a husky, knowing tone. “Don’t think it’s patience you’re lookin’ for. Bet I know what you really want.”
Your breath catches, loud enough he wouldn’t miss it even with his busted phone. You weren’t prepared to be so affected by just the timbre of his voice. It’s fucked up the way he’s got you breathless for no damn good reason.
You can picture him in his bed. The trademark navy blue sheets. Is he fresh out of the shower? Damp hair and the overpowering scent of whatever 10 in 1 man soap was on sale at the grocery store—
“Okay. Enlighten me then. What do I want?” you finally reply.
“You want to hear it,” he continues, smooth and smug, radiating a cocky smirk right through the phone that makes your skin tingle. “You want to hear how you’ve got me hard, sittin’ here thinkin’ about you,” Joel growls, his voice thick with heat. “Thinkin’ about you wearing just my shirt.”
You bite down on your lip to stay quiet. Maybe he’s not in bed at all. Maybe he’s still out in his shop, locked in the office, a couple beers down before he dared to text you. His hair a mess from running his fingers through it, in those faded jeans that cling to him perfectly.
Either way, it seems almost cruel to stop him with a mouth like that.
“Thinking about what I’d do if you were here,” he carries on. “You look good in my shirt.” His voice drops even lower. “You’d let me push it up though, wouldn’t you? Just enough so I can see how wet you are for me.”
You can’t help pressing your thighs together at that thought. If he hears how turned on you are already, you’re definitely going to end up acting out his fantasy over the phone.
“Fuck.” he mutters, his voice breaking. “You’d let me take my time. Get my hands on those perfect tits again. Soak my fingers with that sweet pussy. Have you so worked up you’d be begging for my cock.”
He says it like it’s a fact, as if he could come over right now and you’d drag him straight to your bed—or no, like you’d be on him before he could shut the front door.
It’s so filthy, so confident. You’re so tempted to keep him going, but you pull yourself together. Biting back the whimper stuck in your throat.
“Well, damn, Joel,” you swallow down the urge to ask for more details. “Guess you’ve got me all figured out then,” you tease with a heavy dash of sarcasm in your tone.
“Not all of you,” he replies, with a suggestive edge. “Not yet.”
You let out a breath you were holding. “Look, you can’t just get your dick out on the phone, tell me how you wanna touch me, and get your way,” you manage, steady and a little sharp. “Not this time.”
“Not this time?” he echoes, half-laughing, clearly amused. “Alright. Sure. What do you want then?”
There’s a flicker of nervousness that tightens in your chest. You don’t want him to think you’re rejecting him, don’t want to risk losing the momentum of whatever this is. “I’m saying…I do want you. But, if you want more you’re going to have to do more. Show me you mean it. Like…a date.”
He doesn’t answer immediately, and your heart skips as you imagine his reaction. He’s quiet, but you can hear his breathing—measured, like he’s weighing something.
“Shit. You’re serious?” he asks, and there’s a softness now, laced with just enough curiosity to make you think he’s intrigued.
“Dead serious,” you say, adding, “But if you’re not interested in me like that—”
“Oh, I’m interested.” The words come quick, a little sharper than you expect, and they make you beam. “Fine. A date,” he says, like he’s letting the word settle on his tongue. “Friday?”
“Friday.” You confirm and stretch your neck. Your muscles are tense. Shoulders tight. All from his filthy words getting you worked up in half a second and the anxiety of your demand. “Come up with something good,” you tease, your voice slipping into something sultrier, “and maybe we’ll both get what we want.”
There’s a low growl on the other end of the line, tinged with frustration and desire. It makes your pulse throb in your clit. You almost wish you had let him talk you through it before suggesting the date. Hear how worked up he’s been over you.
“Jesus,” he grumbles.
Oh, you would’ve turned into a mess and completely forgotten to bring it up. Now you’ve essentially cock blocked yourself until the end of the week. Ugh.
“You’re gonna drive me mad.” He says. But there’s no animosity in it. Instead, there’s something new in his voice that gives you butterflies.
“Yep.”
You’re the one who hangs up first before you can hear anything else that might tempt you to stray from your plan.
……..
It’s late morning when your phone buzzes on your desk the next day, interrupting your excellent cosplay of a ‘productive employee’. You glance at the screen and your heart trips when you see Joel’s name.
You answer, trying to sound casual despite the fluttery feeling in your chest. “Calling me during business hours, Mr. Miller? You’re going to get me in trouble.”
Joel snorts softly. “Think we both know you’re the one that likes causin’ trouble.”
“I don’t know what you’re referring to.”
His voice drops lower, quieter. “You need a reminder? Cause I’ve been replaying exactly how much trouble you caused in my kitchen…”
“Don’t.” You nearly hiss into the phone, trying to cut him off before he starts with any graphic retellings. You spin in your chair, grateful when you confirm Ellie has headphones on for once.
“Right.” His voice is back to a slightly less devastatingly erotic tone. “Wouldn’t want to get carried away while you’re at work.
“Well,” he drawls, the grin evident in his voice now. “You said you wanted a date, so I was thinking.”
You hum, leaning into the teasing tone. “If it’s a chain restaurant I’m canceling right now.”
“Do I seem like the kind of guy who’d take you to Applebee’s?”
“Do you want me to answer that honestly?” you quip, laughing at the soft groan he makes in response. “No Applebee’s, no Chili’s, and if you’re thinking about taking me to whatever the fanciest Italian place is in this town, don’t. I’m not going on a first date where you used to take your ex-wife for anniversary dinners.”
There’s a beat of silence, then a grumbled, “It was Valentine’s, actually.”
You cackle, delighted at your guess. He huffs. “You’re impossible.”
“You’re predictable,” you shoot back, grinning as you cross your legs under your desk. “Or maybe it’s just ‘cause nobody has been challenging you.”
“S’that what you are?” he asks, “A challenge?”
You shift in your chair, the grin on your face is going to make your cheeks burn if he keeps this up. You soften the teasing as you admit. “Maybe a little.”
“Mm,” he grunts, clearly not convinced.
“If you’re up for it,” you add. Nerves flutter in your stomach now. Maybe he doesn’t want a challenge at all. It’s not like you’ve been hard to get. The silence stretches just long enough to make you wonder if you’ve pushed too far.
His exasperated sigh crackles through the phone, but it’s laced with something warmer. “Yeah.” But then he exhales, soft and almost self-conscious. “Ain’t a bad thing.”
The words are simple, but they settle somewhere deep, curling warm in your chest. For a moment, the flirty defense falls, and you catch the subtle weight in his voice.
“You’re full of surprises, Joel,” you say finally, your tone gentle.
“Guess you’ll find out,” he murmurs, the words quiet like he’s not sure he’s meant to say them.
Your stomach flutters at the unexpected softness. You knew there was more to him than his bold mouth when his dick is hard or the stoic lone wolf look he wears in his garage. You weren’t expecting him to be…whatever this is now.
The line goes quiet again, his breathing soft on the other end. “Friday at seven,” he says after a moment, his voice steady but quieter than before. “There’s a brewery that Tommy suggested. I’ll pick you up.”
“That sounds nice,” you reply, smiling into the phone.
“Alright,” he mutters. There’s a brief pause, like he’s hesitating, before he says, “See you then.”
He hangs up before you can say anything else, and for a moment, you’re left staring at your phone like an idiot. A grin stuck on your face. Possibly permanently.
It’s not just the idea of the date. It’s the thought of Joel making a plan, asking for recommendations, and thinking of what you might like. You figured it’d be fun to give him a hard time and all, but you didn’t have real expectations.
The week stretches on and you’re not sure if it’s moving too fast or too slow. Having a crush is wicked enough, but having a date planned makes you feel slightly insane. It’s like you’re in a cartoon where the world is suddenly brighter and the birds sing just for you.
You find yourself constantly daydreaming at work. Every Creed song Ellie plays somehow sends you into a fugue state. Snippets of Joel’s voice replay in your head.
There’s something about the way he said, “Ain’t a bad thing,” that keeps sneaking up on you when you least expect it. It wasn’t even what he said—it was how he said it. Quiet, like he wasn’t used to admitting something like that out loud. It makes you smile like a fool every time you think about it.
The worst is the evenings. At home in your room. Nothing to distract you. Alone with his t-shirt. Re-reading your brief texts. Lingering wistfully over the dick pic he sent like it’s a letter from your long-distance lover. You’ve got to get it together.
And Joel? He’s just as distracted, though he’d never admit it. At least not to anyone but you.
At work, his usual rhythm is thrown completely out of whack. He catches himself staring at the same invoice three times before finally filing it away. Tommy catches him with his Breaking Benjamin t-shirt inside out.
You’re in his head and it’s driving him nuts. He tried to minimize it. Deciding it was just the impulsive way you crashed into his world. You spread like a wildfire in his mind. The kindness in you to deliver a homemade meal. The audaciousness you have to go after what you want.
He goes weak for a confident woman and you’re so sharp and quick with him. It’s a rush, but not just because of the sexual chemistry. Not just because you’re a novelty or a break in his routine.
It’s you. It’s the way you’ve got the passion and sharpness with your words, but you’re still soft on the edges. He thinks about the way your voice had dipped when you said, “If you’re up for it,” like you weren’t just teasing but testing something, seeing if he’d push you away.
He’s not used to this. Not the nerves, not the anticipation, and definitely not the way he’s spending too much time wondering what to wear on Friday. Not that he’d ever admit it, but he even dug through the back of his closet, holding up a button-down shirt Ellie had bought him last Christmas like it might bite him. He ends up tossing it back in favor of flannel—it’s still a step up from a faded band t-shirt.
By Thursday you’re nearly useless. You drive Ellie crazy all morning, spacing out and jumping when she asks you a question. To be respectful, you haven’t mentioned the date and she hasn’t asked. Would Joel have told her? Does she know you’re losing your mind over a man who probably has holes in his sweatpants? Are you equally as pathetic?
You’re still stuck on that thought when she kicks your chair, startling you back to reality. “Come on,” she demands. “We’re outta here and you’re coming to the Main Street with me. I’ll buy.”
Turns out you’re a cheap date. The dive bar has strong cocktails and a very limited menu of fried foods to choose from. You sit outside at a picnic table enjoying the warmth of the early summer evening.
Ellie is easy to get along with. Talking animatedly about her friends. Sharing the hot goss about Cheryl and her divorce. Trying to recruit you to join the company rec league kickball team. It’s all a welcome distraction even though you still have Joel on the brain.
You do your best not to bring him up but when she mentions him you know you perk up like a heart-eyed fool. Begrudgingly, but with sincerity, Ellie asks if the date is what’s got you so distracted.
“How did you know?”
“You’re both worse than teenagers.” She rolls her eyes. “Thought bringing you here might take your mind off it.”
You snap to attention at her choice of words. “Both?”
“Don’t.”
She’s a good friend. You did need the distraction. You’re still smiling about that thought as you check yourself out in the mirror in the bathroom at the bar. There’s a poster taped to the paper towel dispenser for the cover band that plays Saturday nights that catches your eye before you slip your phone out of your pocket.
You’d blame it on the drinks but the truth is only had one. You hover over the messages. Wondering if he’s really as nervous as you. Fuck it, you decide before sending what you’ve been wondering.
You: You been thinking about me?
His message comes through so fast it’s more revealing than the words he typed.
Joel: Maybe
Fuck, why does one word have you feeling giddy already?
Joel: Have you?
He asks shortly after. You wonder if he’s second guessing himself. Is Joel nervous?
You: A little
You figure you’ll give him the same treatment.
Joel: Haven’t been able to stop, if I’m honest baby
Heat floods your face as you stare at the screen, and his next message comes before you can respond.
Joel: Friday’s been feeling real far away
That has you shaking your head.
You: Patience is a virtue
He’s quick to respond again.
Joel: Never claimed to be a saintly man
That makes you genuinely laugh.
You: Good
……
By the time Friday night rolls around, you’ve fully spiraled into a mess of anxiety and excitement. You’re not really the type to overthink a date, but there’s something about the whole scenario that feels different. It’s not just because Joel’s hot—hotter than he has any right to be—but he’s trying. For you. It’s disarming in a way you weren’t expecting.
You know that the worst-case scenario for the night isn’t bad. You know how to have a good time wherever you are and you are confident that he’s a horny bastard that will put out even if you actively try to sabotage the date. It’s that flickering sensation in your chest that hopes for more. That’s what makes you nervous.
You’re startled when Joel knocks at your front door. You check your reflection one last time before heading to the door. You figure it’s casual enough for a first date at a brewery.
Despite everything inside of you that screamed to put your tits on display again—you couldn’t resist wearing the Creed shirt. You tied it up in the front so it accentuates your figure and paired it with a faux leather skirt with a matching black lace set underneath.
It’s gotta be enough to play at the alt-rock vibe he’s still living in. You look good. Really good.
But when you open the door he isn’t the only one who’s world gets rocked. Joel stands in front of you like he was plucked from your fantasy. Freshly showered, his damp curls just starting to dry in soft waves. A plaid button-down shirt, with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, showing off those strong, tan forearms. His dark jeans are markedly not as worn down as the last pair you saw him in, yet the effect on you is just as dastardly.
It’s unfair, really, how good he looks. You’re left blinking as your mouth goes a little dry while you drink him in. Who’s idea was it to have a date? In public? Fuck. He shifts, a sly smile growing on his face as he rests his hip against the door jam.
“Hi,” you mumble, still ogling him.
“You look… real nice,” he says, voice so low and velvety it should be registered as a weapon.
You know you had a smart-ass remark about the shirt on the tip of your tongue, but it’s gone. Gone… along with your morals. All you’ve got left is the intense, primal desire to do something inappropriate with his arms? Yes! Yes! Yes! The horny gremlins like your idea despite having no logistics or master plan.
They seem to have no coherent plan of attack at all, to be honest. Bite! Lick! Suck! All you know is that you need him in your mouth until your jaw is sore.
Joel huffs softly. Amused that you seem speechless. “Didn’t think flannel was all that special baby, you alright?”
“It’s not the flannel,” you mutter under your breath, but you don't let him hear the rest of that thought: Arms! Arms! Arms!
You grab your bag and follow him out to the truck, stealing glances at him as he walks ahead of you. You can’t help it. He’s so…solid. Sturdy. Sure of himself. Even when he’s out of his comfort zone. It’s doing something sinful to you.
The inside of the truck smells faintly like a Black Ice air freshener, a Home Depot on a Sunday morning, and Armor All. The distinctly Joel aesthetic lives up to your imagination. It’s lived in. Comfortable.
There’s the catchall cupholder of change, receipts, and literal nuts and bolts. The caseless CDs in the storage divider strapped to the sun visor—you recognize a couple like Seether and Three Days Grace.
Before you can take in every detail though, you’re distracted by just the sight of him driving. It’s absurd, but why does he look this good just driving? Most people can manage to operate a vehicle, but most people don’t look as fuckable as Joel does, one hand on the wheel, the other resting on his thigh. Hand! Thigh! Neck! Fingers!
You’re reduced to only being able to name anatomical features when you’re this close to him, apparently. Like an alien learning about a man for the first time. An extraterrestrial explorer propelled by the most curious desire to taste and touch every part of Joel—for research.
You’re so caught up that it takes a while to register the song that’s playing. Of course, it’s more Nickelback.
You're so much cooler
When you never pull it out
Cause you look so much cuter
With something in your mouth
It breaks the spell he has on you and you laugh, really laugh. Joel looks slightly horrified, having no idea what led to your outburst. When you’ve recovered enough, you let him in on it.
“Nice first date song. You really know how to set the mood.”
He rolls his eyes but doesn’t change the song, and you let yourself glance at him again as he drives. His profile glows in the evening sun, and you can’t help thinking how easy it would be to reach over and drag your hand down his chest, and make him pull over so you could climb into his lap. The thought has you pressing your thighs together, your pulse thrumming in your ears. At this rate you’re not going to make it through the night.
…..
The brewery is trendy. Joel hopes it’s something you like. He tries to focus on the menu, but feels like his brain is short-circuiting. It’s not the overpriced burgers or the craft beers with descriptors that don’t sound like flavors. It’s the way you're leaning forward on your elbows, chin resting in your hand, smile tugging at your lips.
The shirt is unfair. The way you’ve got it tied, hugging your body in ways that make his palms itch. Knowing you were touching yourself in the same shirt to the sound of his voice. He’s trying not to stare, trying to be polite, but it’s damn near impossible with you sitting across from him like that.
“How about this one?” you say, pointing to an option on the menu. “Probably the closest thing to what you’ve got stocked in the shop fridge.” He’d wonder how you knew what he had in the fridge, but his eyes are glued to your finger pointing at the menu and it’s consuming all of his thoughts.
You ramble on about a few other choices but he doesn’t hear the words. He’s still stuck on your hand. He swears he can still feel the ghost of your touch from the kitchen last week. Shit. His jeans are already feeling tighter than they should.
He clears his throat, trying to pull it together. “I’ll trust you.”
You smile wide at that. He’s so fucked. “You know a lot about fancy beer.” Yikes. “You got a favorite on here?” Get it together, he begs himself.
“Nah, I don’t really like beer,” you say casually. You give him a shrug and point out a cider you’re thinking about trying. His stomach twists.
“You don’t like beer,” he repeats. “But, you let me take you to a brewery?” His chest feels tight, and he shifts uncomfortably.
“They have food, too.” you counter.
“Right.” Why does he feel like he’s so out of his element? He’s been second-guessing everything about this date. He feels his gaze drifting as his eyes shift out of focus, his fingers toy with his bottom lip as he gets lost in his head.
He knows he can get you worked up just as bad as him over the phone, knows he can make you sing for him with just his fingers, but this? He doesn’t know what you want from him now. Is the date some kind of test? He knows he’s overthinking all of it.
“Hey.” Your voice brings him back, pulling him out of his thoughts. “I like that you planned something.”
It seems genuine. The way you look at him with bright eyes and a smirk like you’ve got something to tease him about on the tip of your tongue. “Now ask me a boring first date question,” you instruct with a nod like you’re giving him some kind of permission.
“What’s your favorite color?”
You snort laughing at him. If you’re half as nervous as him you don’t show it.
….
It works. Mostly. Your drinks arrive. The conversation flows more easily. He still gets tripped up here and there but doesn’t disappear on you again. He asks about your job, your family, about where you moved from, and you give him enough to keep things light but still playfully dodge some of his questions.
Every time he gets flustered, you catch yourself smiling, a little surprised at how much you’re enjoying this. It’s the way he watches you like he’s trying to figure you out. The way he tries. He seems to relax a little and for a moment, you think he might settle into the evening.
Then he reaches for his water, and it all goes sideways. The dangerously full glass wobbles, tilting just enough to spill halfway across the table. Joel jerks back, cursing dejectedly under his breath as he grabs a napkin to clean it up.
You can’t help it. The words are out of your mouth before you can stop them. Just loud enough for him to hear. “Trying to get me wet already?”
His eyes snap to yours. You grin, adding, “Don’t worry, been dripping for you since you showed up at my front door.”
He makes a sound between a cough and a choke. Stunned. The faintest blush creeps up his neck, reaching all the way to his ears. For a second, he looks like he might say something, but all he manages to get out is a gruff, “Jesus.”
You lean back in your chair, grinning triumphantly. You didn’t expect him to get so rattled by your comment. Not with how vulgar he’s been on the phone or when he had his hand between your legs. It’s an ego boost to know you’ve got the upper hand at first.
“Relax,” you purr.
Then you catch the way he discreetly tries to adjust himself under the table. Clearly unable to relieve the pressure. Knowing the effect you have on him is more intoxicating than the alcohol. An idea strikes you. You know exactly how to get him to relax.
“Do you have cash?” you ask.
“What? Yeah.” He looks at you confused.
You nod like he proved a point by saying yes. That confuses him further, a deep line forming between his brows.
“‘Course you do. That’s like, Dad 101 ‘carry cash in case of emergency’.
You stand and grab your bag. “We’re not staying,” you say simply.
“What?” He frowns, sitting up straighter.
You flash him a smile. “I’ve got a better idea. Come on. You said you trust me.”
“To choose a beer,” he grumbles, dropping enough cash for a generous tip on the table before letting you lead. He doesn’t argue as you walk back to the truck, just trying to catch up with your words. He opens the passenger door for you, his hand brushing yours briefly as you climb into the truck. It’s a small thing, but the innocence makes your pulse skip all the same.
Once he’s in the driver’s seat, the tension between you shifts. The silence isn’t uncomfortable, but it’s charged. You glance at him, taking in the way his hands grip the steering wheel so tightly, the muscles in his forearms flexing as he shifts.
The truck rumbles to life and another one of the horniest Nickelback songs plays—barely loud enough to recognize.
I’m loving what you wanna wear
I wonder what’s up under there
Wonder if I’ll ever have it under my tongue
You bite back another laugh as the vocals float through the cab, perfectly at odds with the vibe of the place you just left. Joel shifts, mouth twitching like he knows how ridiculous it is. “You wanna tell me where we’re headed?” he asks, voice cutting through your thoughts.
You tell him where to drive and settle back in your seat. Again your thoughts drift. Infatuated with his fingers curling and uncurling like he’s trying to distract himself. He hasn’t said much since you’ve left, but you can feel the tension radiating off him. Heavy and thick.
You catch his gaze flicker to you for the third time in as many minutes. His eyes trail over the curve of your thighs where your skirt has ridden up. It’s subtle, but enough to make you feel bold.
You smirk, pulling the visor down to check your reflection in the mirror. Fishing a lip gloss out from your bag, you swipe it over your lips, smoothing the edges with your fingertip. Joel doesn’t say anything, but you don’t miss the deep steadying breath that fills his lungs or the crack of his knuckles.
Satisfied with your lips, you tug lightly at the t-shirt, adjusting the knot, shifting the fabric to lay how you like and slipping a hand beneath it to adjust your tits in your lacy bra. You hear Joel exhale sharply, a low, throaty sound that makes heat curl low in your stomach.
“You okay?” you ask, glancing at him out of the corner of your eye. Your voice is softer now, more knowing, and when he doesn’t answer right away, you grin. “You seem tense.”
Joel mutters something under his breath. His jaw tightens. Finally, he glances at you, his eyes dark. “You keep doin’ that, and we’re gonna have a problem, baby.”
“Doing what?” you ask, your voice all innocence, though his threat gives you a prickly rush.
Joel huffs a laugh, low and rough. “You know damn well.” His voice dips, a rasp of heat that whips down your spine. “The lips and the shirt, just messin’ with me like you want me to lose my fuckin’ mind.”
Your grin widens as you meet his gaze. “And what if I do?”
“Jesus,” he mutters, his voice strained, his hand flexing against the wheel. “Trying to get me to crash into a ditch or something?”
The tension between you is unbearable now, the air thick and buzzing. Joel’s jaw is clenched tightly. You unabashedly linger on the way his hips press forward slightly like he’s trying to relieve the ache between his legs. It shouldn’t drive you fucking wild with need, but you’re gripped mind, pussy, and soul.
“Pull over,” you say suddenly, your tone steady.
Joel’s head snaps toward you, incredulous.
“Pull over,” you repeat, your voice softer now, more insistent. “Please.”
He hesitates for only a second before caving, steering the truck onto the shoulder. The tires crunch against the gravel as he shifts into park, the engine idling low as he turns to look at you. His eyes are dark, his breathing uneven, and the sight of him—wrecked and barely holding it together—makes you rabid.
“You’re gonna kill me,” his voice is rough and quiet. Infused with lust and awe.
“Maybe,” you murmur, leaning closer. “But you’ll enjoy it.”
Joel groans softly, his hand flying to your thigh, the heat of his palm searing against your skin. “Torturing me,” he mutters, his voice a low growl. “Sitting there lookin’ like that, knowing damn well what you’re doin’ to me.”
“Yeah?” you ask, your breath hitching as his fingers slide higher. “What am I doing to you, Joel?”
He exhales sharply, his grip on your thigh tightening. Why are his hands that big? Like, how are you supposed to know what they feel like and ever leave his grasp?
Your heart is pounding now, the heat in your veins making it hard to think straight. Joel’s voice drops lower, his hand sliding further up your thigh as he leans closer.
“Can’t stop thinkin’ about it,” he mutters, his lips ghosting over your jaw. “The way you’d taste, the way you’d sound, begging me to fuck you harder, deeper—”
“Joel,” you whisper, cutting him off. Your voice is shaky, your hands gripping his arm as you try to ground yourself. “Please.”
He groans again, the sound rough and desperate, and his hand moves higher, his fingers brushing the edge of your underwear. “Yeah, baby,” he murmurs, his voice thick with satisfaction. “That’s what I wanna hear.”
It makes you shudder. You feel him smile at your body's obvious responses, as his nose grazes your skin just below your ear.
“You’re so fuckin’ perfect,” he murmurs into your neck. “Been thinkin’ about you all damn week. Every time I close my eyes, it’s you.”
His words hit like a match to dry kindling, and your breath stutters as his fingers trace the seam of your panties.
“You know how hard it was to sit there at that table?” he mutters, his voice turning darker. “With you looking like this, wearing my clothes, teasin’ me.”
“We didn’t even make it to the actual dinner part,” you giggle as you trail off.
His fingers press more firmly, dragging slowly over the thin fabric, and you can’t stop the gasp that escapes your lips. Joel groans at the sound, his free hand gripping your thigh to hold you steady.
“Fuck, baby,” he rasps, his voice thick with heat. “You’re already soaked. Bet I could make you come like this, right here, without even tryin’.”
Your hips shift instinctively, grinding against his hand as he works you with deliberate precision. The friction is maddening, just enough to keep you on edge, but not enough to send you over. Every filthy word he says in your ear has you burning up.
“Jesus, you’re gonna sound so fuckin’ sweet for me,” he says, more to himself. “Can’t wait to bury my face between your legs, make you scream my name until your throat’s raw.”
“Joel,” you whisper, your voice shaky, your hand flying to his wrist as his fingers dip lower, brushing just beneath the edge of your panties. “Wait.”
He freezes instantly, his brow furrowing as he looks at you. “What’s wrong?”
You shake your head, your cheeks flushed, your body still trembling under his touch. “Not now,” you assert, your voice soft but steady. “Let me take care of you.”
Joel blinks, his pupils blown wide as your words sink in. His mouth parts to say something but the words disappear. You don’t let him argue.
Sliding your hand down to his belt, you undo it hastily, fingers working open the button of his jeans before he can protest. It’s for him. You want to do this for him. Help him relax so you can enjoy the rest of your date.
But, fuck, it’s also for you. You’ve been riding a high just from a shoddy dick pic and your muscle memory, but you’ve been patient long enough. You’ve got to see it in person and you need it in your mouth, asap. You deserve that much, right?
You slide down the zipper and fuss with the waistband until you get what you wanted. His breath catches as you free his cock. It’s heavy and hard against your palm. Radiating heat and weeping for you.
“Oh, fuck,” he starts, his voice breaking.
You hum softly, pleased, leaning in to kiss him as your hand strokes him slowly, deliberately. Joel groans against your mouth, his hips jerking slightly into your hand.
“You’ve been thinking about this,” you murmur against his lips. “All week.”
“Yeah,” he rasps, voice raw with want. “Can’t stop thinking about you. How you’d feel, how you’d look, how you’d sound.”
“Show me,” you whisper, lowering your head to taste for yourself. You like a hot stripe from the base of his cock to the tip, swirling your tongue around the head.
Joel’s breath stutters, his hand flying to the back of your head as he watches you. “You’re so fucking good, baby. Like a fucking dream.”
You hollow your cheeks, tongue gliding along his length as you take him into the heat of your mouth. You have to use your hands to work the rest of him, still slowly and deliberately. Every sound he makes, every twitch against your tongue, every flex of his core, and tightening of his fingers, it all drives you wild.
It has you moaning with need around him. Your cunt soaked and pulsing, begging for attention between your legs as you focus all on him. It’s just as much for you as it is for him.
His head tips back against the seat, a rumbling grown spilling from his lips as his hips shift beneath you.
“Shit.” he pants, voice cracking. “You’re gonna make come so fuckin’ hard. Bet you’d look so pretty with my come on your tongue.”
The sheer filth of his words spurs you on, your movements quickening as you savor every groan, curse, and sharp inhale from him. “Fuck—just like that.” He encourages you, adding firm pressure to the back of your head as his hips jerk and he loses control.
“You want it?” he asks desperately as you moan in affirmation. You’re voice is still vibrating through him as he starts to come, hot and heavy on your tongue. You don’t stop until his body goes slack beneath you, his chest heaving as you finally pull back.
He looks wrecked, mouth hanging open, sweat on his brow. You give him a devilish smile before opening your mouth to show him. He stares at you, eyes dark and hazy, before cupping your jaw in his palm as you swallow.
“Told you,” he huffs, “so fucking pretty with my come on your tongue.” A bright, satisfied smile spreads on your face at his praise. He pulls you in closer for a kiss. When you pull back a frown pulls at your mouth.
“What’s wrong?” Joel asks hurriedly.
“I didn’t get to see,” you muse. “Will you take a picture next time?”
“Fuck,” he looks at you with awe and pride. “Yeah, baby, of course.”
“Good,” you nod, readjusting and settling back into your seat. “You think you can relax a little now?” you ask, tone teasing.
Joel lets out a breathless laugh. He drags his hand down his face. “You’re unreal,” he mutters, voice still hoarse. The phrase makes you beam with pride. It’s the same remark he made over the phone last week…right before he said ‘got me shooting loads like a fucking teenager’.”
The gratification just from seeing him this wrecked is like a drug. He’s every bit as enticing and addicting as you hoped and feared. You squeeze your thighs together once more and take a deep breath. Committed to the rest of your idea for saving your first date with the divorced DILF of your dreams.
“Back on the road. We’ve got places to be.”
Joel blinks at you, still trying to catch his breath. “You’re serious?”
“Yep,” you smile lazily, tugging gently at his arm. “Drive.”
He shakes his head, muttering something under his breath about you being the death of him, but he shifts the truck into gear, his hand lingering on your thigh as he pulls back onto the road.
THANK YOU FOR READING PLEASE TELL ME IF YOU ENJOYED OR HATED ANY OF IT <3
dividers by @/cyberangel-graphics
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#joel miller x reader#joel miller x you#joel miller smut#joel miller#pedro pascal#pedro pascal fanfiction#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller x f!reader#divorced dad rock dilf joel#creed!joel#pedro pascal character fanfic
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Thinking…. (Bottom male reader). Feminization is the main kink. Lemme know if I should expand this into a full fic!
Playboy reader who’s known for sleeping with everyone and their mama (literally). You have a girlfriend or boyfriend every two weeks, dropping them like flies when you get bored.
But you end up finding your new target for the week, the student council president. Much to your shock, you didn’t have to ware him down at all. You asked him out once and he said yes.
So you’re excited. You mostly get girlfriends and while they’re cool, boyfriends are your favorite! They always act so shy when you ride them for the first time. The more inexperienced, the more fun.
So imagine your shock when you’re over at your new “boyfriend’s” house and he has you dressed in a girly dress with knee high socks. At first, you just push past it… you don’t judge…
Until when you try to take over after foreplay, doing your usually riding when he doesn’t even react…? You’re about damn near pissed off, your legs are aching, you’re embarrassed about this damn outfit.
Doesn’t help he starts fucking yawning?!?!
It’s not until you straight up tell him, “what the hell man?! If I’m boring you so damn much, then you take over!”
Though it hurts your pride to not be the dominate player. He took your words to heart because suddenly your pressed against his wall, balancing on one leg while he holds the other up and slams his cock deep into your slicked hole.
He’s harsh and unpredictable. Even after you cum, your body heaving, you notice he’s not even close to tired.
You find yourself ass up and face pressed against the bed as he takes you like a bitch. Your riding was nothing compared to this. His large hands grip your ass before a smack is delivered to it, causing you to squeal in shock.
“You’re so cute, (Name)-Chan…Make that sound again…”
Chan?! You don’t even get to ask what’s with all this feminization when he’s fucking you like a slut in heat. It takes longer than you thought possible for him to finally reach his first orgasm of the night (your fourth).
You’re collapsed against the bed, struggling to breathe when he manhandled you onto your back, legs pushed to your chest. He grins at you, his glasses foggy as he leans down.
“You’re going to enjoy being my slut, (Name)-Chan. I’ve been waiting to make you mine. I’m going to ruin you so bad you’ll only want my cock in this tight cunt of yours.”
huh…. Guess you were no longer the playboy of your school anymore.
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Cali's Kinktober: Day 07
Kinktober Masterlist ad captandum vulgus - "to captivate the masses" TF141 x f!reader Kinks > glory hole, anal virginity, gangbang Full tags on AO3 - MDNI - Read at your own risk.
Your four boyfriends are overrun by stress. Hunting terrorists is a full-time job, so you take matters into your own hands to help them blow off some steam.
Sorry I'm late! Working on catching up right now. Y’all ever watched those Czech Fantasy glory hole videos? Anyway, can't get enough of those, so here's this.
The soft, silicone cock in your mouth was muffling the cries coming from deep in your chest as you felt two thick fingers pry their way into your cunt. You were laying on your back inside the dark, empty void of one of the weapons crates in the warehouse on base, the top half of your body concealed inside of the wooden box, and your lower half sticking out of a hole in the side, naked and exposed to the chilly air. Your legs were tied up, ankles hooked up to the metal storage shelf racks, thighs spread open, forcing your pussy lips to splay wide and wet and ready for someone’s mouth and fingers and prick.
The voices outside of the crate were muffled, but you could just barely make out their words.
“Pretty cunt on offer, huh? Free for any bastard to come and take,” you heard your lieutenant’s dark chuckle as he pushed his fingers even further inside of you, curling them to shove and prod against the pliant spot that made you scream.
“Wha’s all this, then?” Kyle’s voice came through from the side of your box as he made his way over to where Simon was hard at work, making your hips writhe and hump his hand.
“Our perfect little slut…” You heard him cruelly spit onto your clit, and you felt it, warm and slick, slip across your skin, “Got all set up for us. Wanted to welcome us home from our mission.”
“Needy slag, innit she?” John purred, and you felt his hand join Simon’s, pulling at your plump ass cheek to make your holes stretch and gape.
“Lemme go first, LT. I cannae wait any longer,” Johnny begged.
“Alrigh’, Johnny,” Simon pulled away from you, “But, don’t be too rough with her. We all want a turn, mate.”
You immediately felt a familiar mouth seal itself across your clit, sucking up Simon’s hot spit and your sticky precome all in one savage gulp. You’d know that tongue anywhere. Johnny ate you in the most blindingly erotic way. You felt like he was consuming you, inside and out. You didn’t know what was lip or tongue or finger, but he used them in symphonic unison to drag you, writhing and screaming, into an orgasm. But, your Scot was as cruel as his masked friend, and he didn’t care if you were in the throes of a hard come; he would double down, shoving his tongue down your hole and slurping your gifts into his throat.
Then, he pulled away, leaving you with nothing, curling your hips to reach for him, until –
“Oh, shite. Tha’s it, right there. Unghh…” Johnny groaned.
He was shoving his fat, curved cock into you, slow and steady, scraping his head on those same sensitive spots Simon had been torturing with his fingertips. Johnny still played with your clit as he rammed himself into you, stretching you, pulling you apart at the seams, making you feel like you were being stuffed beyond your limit.
You wanted to cry out, to tell him to slow down, but you couldn’t. The gag would only let you scream against it and swallow your hot, thick drool as your mind began to burn away to a blank nothingness.
He fucked you so hard that the box creaked, over and over, the wood crying out the same as you, whining from being overused.
Then, you felt him dig deeper inside of you, dropping load after load of his come into your hole, deep enough that you could feel it sliding around in your soft channel, foaming and hot like milk in coffee, creamy and smooth. Two loving slaps against your ass as he slid out of you were the only thanks you got before you felt the next man at your hole.
You couldn’t tell, at first, which one of your boyfriends was having his way with you this time, until you realized how long it was taking him to slide his entire length into you. Kyle’s prick always preferred a long drive in and a long retreat back out. He loved it when you stroked his entire length with your hands clasped together around him, soaked in lube and slowly massaging him from tip to root, and he used your pussy in much the same way. It was hypnotic, and when he did finally squeeze himself all the way to his base, it made it hard for you to take a breath.
Usually, he was Mr. Foreplay. He’d spend twenty minutes on your tits alone, much less fondling your wet little hole. He loved getting you screaming for him before he even had himself out of his pants, but today, something was different. It was as if the box allowed him to be selfish. He didn’t care about your pleasure this time. He just wanted to take and take and take.
So, he did. He stroked himself with your quim like you were his toy. You were just a warm, wet fleshlight, there to be used and nothing more. You were made to take his load, nothing more. The feeling of him being so unabashedly greedy was electrifying. His cock was so mean to you, ignoring your pulsing, writhing signals and blowing past your clenching quivers. In and in and in… out and out and out… that was all you knew. He had wiped your mind clean.
Then, the final time he shoved himself in, he stayed there, grinding into you, humping and thrusting at a punishing pace, milking himself with your gooey textures and grunting like an animal as his hands clutched the corners of the box, blocking out the light from where his palms dug into the pine.
You were so close to coming, but right when you began to tense up, he felt you, and he came to a sudden halt. He was teasing you. You tried to fuck him back, pushing your hips in every direction, working to fit his thick base back inside you, but he stopped you, gripping your body in his huge hands and holding you still.
Once you stopped fighting him, frustrated by the futility of it all, he watched your muscles melt back into submission, and he rewarded you with slippery, firm strokes along the hardened body of your clit, rubbing it affectionately like a well-heeled pet. It was not enough to bring your orgasm back to the surface, but instead, it caused your pleasure to roil and turn inside of your core like an unfed beast, pouting for its dinner.
“Too greedy, babes,” he laughed at you with a tinge of ridicule, knowing the others were watching, “You only come when I want you to come.”
Kyle returned to his long, aching strokes, working his cock like the piston of a machine, unwavering in its rhythmic pattern or its ferocious power. Then, just as his pacing increased, he pinched your clithead between his knuckles, bringing tears to your eyes. In the middle of the most intense pleasure you’d ever been given, he had made you deal with this sharp agony, and your mind could not handle both at once. So, you lost your orgasm, but he enjoyed his.
You sobbed as you felt his prick jerking inside of you, spitting fiery hot ropes of his come all over your walls and womb, filling you deeply just like Johnny.
You expected him to pull out, and you were already grumbling about it in your head, silently bratty and plotting your revenge. But, he didn’t. He’d come in you and yet he was still seated inside, sealed like a sword in its sheath. The same fingers that had been so malicious were now back to their delicate, coaxing affection. He was pressing soft circles around your clit, picking up speed when he felt you pulse around the softening body of his dick.
You were going to come, and you knew you were going to come hard.
“Tha’s it. Good girls get rewards, innit that right, Cap?”
John hummed, obviously watching your body sing for its conductor.
The pressure within you built and built, and you were having trouble breathing. You wanted to cry out, but the gag was in your way, and you had to keep swallowing around it, stuck in a loop of feeling full in both ends of your body.
Just as you were about to crash into bliss, Kyle ripped himself from you, and at the same time, your pussy beared down, thinking it had something hard to press against. But, you were empty, and so all of that force sent the come that you had been keeping warm in your belly squirting out of your hole and onto the floor. Sliding out of your cunt, it dripped down your ass cheek and pooled on the ground, making you look every bit the freeuse slut that you knew you were.
“My, my…” Price’s dark growl commented, “Filled her to the brim, didn’t you, Sergeant? Good lad.”
You could feel John playing with the stream of milky come that was oozing out of your hole, spreading it around. He scooped it onto his fingers and began to shove it back into your pussy, fucking you with his middle and ring fingers gently at first, and then not at all. He was fucking you on his hand hard enough to shake the box, and you knew he could make you squirt. He loved it. He didn’t care how overstimulated you were; he would keep pushing your buttons over and over, watching you spray your liquid joy all over him and you and whatever else was in the way.
You twisted, trying to escape him, but he was too strong.
“C’mon, love. Come for me. I wanna see it.”
You’d just come from Kyle’s big dick, but Price didn’t give a damn. He yanked another one from you, making you feel as if you were wetting yourself, pressing deep enough and firm enough to force your pussy to squirt all over his palm. Your whole body seized, unable to control the movements he was putting you through. You felt like his helpless puppet, stuck on his hand and thanking him for it.
Price left you there, your ankles hanging limply in their ties where you’d stuck your feet in them, your legs trembling like a fawn, shaking and shining from your come, your body begging for more and your mind too fuck-drunk to protest.
Then, he was back. You knew it was him because you always struggled to take his girthy cock. The head was immense and hard like a fist. It bullied its way into your cunt, using your other boyfriends’ come as lube. Even so, he had to retreat over and over, whetting himself repeatedly, just so that he could make progress. He stretched you so far that it ached like a bruise, and your pussy, already primed to come for him, started up again, making you tense and squeeze and roll and spread yourself for him, opening wide like a whore, like he paid you for it.
“Fuck, I willnae ever get tired of watchin’ how he makes her do that. Struggle on that cock, bonnie. Your man loves it when you fight, don’t he?”
“Yeah, I fuckin’ do,” Price agreed, the tips of his fingers held tight together and slapping sharply on your clit and mons, stinging your flesh as he fucked you deeper and deeper.
Someone else’s fingers started to grope your thighs and ass, gripping you hard and trailing wet kisses across your skin. You felt your body melting into his touch, such a stark contrast from John’s lustful torment. When his mouth dragged its way up your thigh, his nose bumped your calf, and you knew it was Simon, your Ghost. He was still in his mask, and you could feel the folds of it against the bridge of his nose, scrunched up to let him use his mouth on you.
Simon played with you while Price stuffed you full of cock, his captain set on pounding your pussy until it was hot from his work. You felt Simon’s fingertip dip into the tight hole of your ass, testing your leniency. He’d been begging you for weeks to let him try anal, but you had told him that he was too big. Now, he saw his chance. His finger sank deeper, down to the first knuckle, and he made firm circles around the rim, massaging you open, getting you ready for him.
Price held you around the waist, both of his thumbs pressing down into your womb, taking away any remaining space inside of your stuffed cunt, making you feel every single ridge and vein on his prick. It made you want to come, and he knew you were about to explode.
“I know what you want, love. Take it. C’mon, make me come. Make this fuckin’ pussy grab my cock,” Price talked you through each suffocating wave of your orgasm, barking orders like you were one of his men, knowing you could follow them like he’d trained you to.
You wanted him to come with you, to fill you up with his soft seed, but he didn’t. He pulled out and then stuck just the tip of his dick inside of your asshole, letting his spend shoot through your forbidden hole, lubing you up for his lieutenant.
“There you go, Riley. Should do the job, aye?”
“Yes, sir. Cheers, mate.”
No sooner was Price gone from you than Simon had taken his place, settling his dick on top of your pussy and dragging it through your slick skin, letting your lips lick him wet. He teased you with his hard length, using his dick like a toy, jerking his shaft so that his head would vibrate against your clit, making you squirm beneath his touch.
“Deep breath, princess,” he murmured, just loud enough for you to hear, taking two fingers of your pussy’s sticky fluids and smearing them across your asshole.
His pet name for you sent butterflies through your stomach. He only used it on special occasions, and for him to use it now, when you were hidden away and splayed open, vulnerable as you’d ever been, made your head swim. He was really going to take your asshole right here in the warehouse, shamelessly taking your untouched hole in front of your other lovers, claiming it for himself.
The press of his head was enough to make your blood rush through your body and head for your core. You felt dizzy. He pushed forward gently, going so slowly that it didn’t seem as if he was even moving in you, using his head to kiss your tight muscles until your body relented, allowing him through. Then, you felt him spread your walls apart, making contact with Price’s come and using it to ease his path.
It made you feel full in a new way. You were familiar with fingers and tongues invading your space, but having Simon’s heavy cock there gave you a whole different kind of experience. You were so sensitive, and what you thought would be painful or upsetting was actually warping itself into a wild, unbridled kind of pleasure. It was like a scalding hot bath that, once you got used to the heat, made you dissolve into the delicate warmth of it like fine sugar.
“Mnghff-fuck,” Simon groaned roughly, “Tha’s it, baby. Relax for me just like that.”
Another pair of hands began to play with your pussy, two fingers at your clit, two inside your cunt, and Simon rutting himself steadily into your asshole.
“Takin’ you so well, LT. Didnae think it’d fit.”
“She’s perfect, Johnny. Just wait until you try her arse. Fuckin’ heaven.”
You felt Johnny’s mouth on your clit as another man finger-fucked your pussy, and he sucked greedily on your overstimulated clit, swollen and sore from all the attention. But, he didn’t hear your protests, and he simply suckled away, licking you and using his jaw to spread your folds so he could use his tongue to reach for more of your taste.
Simon had reached his root, shoving his damp curls against your core, and now he began to slowly and shallowly fuck you, worried that more would be too much for you to handle. You wanted to tell him you needed more, wanted to scream for him to bury himself in you, to fuck your asshole like he would your pussy. But, he didn’t. He was careful, deliberate, and you could feel the shudder of his body from just how hard he was holding himself back.
“Bloody fuckin’ hell,” Kyle’s deep voice came through a smile. You could tell he was pleased by something, “You should feel her cunt, mate. She’s lovin’ this.”
He was the one fucking you on his hand, and all of your excitement was obvious from your pulsing need.
“I can feel her,” Simon grunted, overwhelmed by the knowledge that you were indeed enjoying your ass being invaded by his throbbing rod.
His trembling was getting progressively worse, and you felt it in his hands as he grasped your thighs. He kept readjusting his grip, but you knew that his hands were shaking, the tremors of his restraint exacerbating his ability to hold his own pleasure at bay. He hissed as you started to come from Johnny’s mouth,
“So fuckin’ tight, princess. Fuck!”
You wanted to bring him with you into the swirling mesmerism of bliss, so you stayed tight, using your weak muscles to squeeze him as much as you could, imagining your holes like soft, wet fists, grasping at his tool and trying to use him to work yourself into a high, vicious fever.
You could feel the fabric of his mask as Simon leaned his forehead against your leg, the heat from his panting breaths, his exhaustion breaking your heart. You promised yourself in your heart that, as soon as you were out of this box and fully recovered, you’d show him how well you could take him. He didn’t need to temper his passion.
The only time you got a glimpse at his true hunger was right as he started to come. His hips jerked forward, as if he was shoved, and he thrust his cock far into your asshole, spreading his slick cream as deep as he could reach. Johnny had stepped back, and Kyle pulled his fingers from you, moving out of their lieutenant’s way as he completed his ritual, marking your insides, making you his.
You felt the sweetest kiss against your ankle just before he slid himself from you, trying to go easy on your used hole. But, you couldn’t feel any pain. Not anymore. Your body was racked with pleasure. If someone had even brushed their finger over your pussy, you thought you might come.
Simon’s hands fumbled with one of the ropes around your foot, and someone else took care of the other. Then, bright light filled your eyes as John pried open the crate. Then, all four men peered inside, starting down at you with wide smiles and satisfied grins plastered across their faces.
“Hey, love. Let’s get you out, yeah?” Price purred, removing your gag and wiping your mouth with his thumb. With ease, he pulled you from the crate and cradled you in his arms, helping Johnny wrap his jacket around you. Johnny leaned forward to kiss your forehead, and Simon lifted your fingers to his lips before he replaced his mask.
“Let’s get you cleaned up, babes,” Kyle spoke to you in a low tone, petting his thumb across your cheek.
“Took such good care of us, lass. It’s our turn, now.”
You let them take you back to their shared room, holding onto them and letting them bathe you and set everything right, tucking you into bed and sitting with you as you dozed. They had all sprawled across the mattress, laying on you and each other, not truly caring whose limbs were whose.
As usual, Simon was the last to doze off, and you whispered to each other in quiet voices.
“You alright, missus?” He asked, his voice attempting to hide his troubled concern.
“Mmm,” you nodded, “More than alright.”
There was a bit of a lull; he was considering something, and then he asked,
“Did you like it? Was I too –”
“No,” you stopped him in the middle of his worry, “You were perfect. Maybe next time we could –”
“Next time?” His surprise warmed your heart, and you smiled up at him, lifting his mask up to kiss his mouth.
“Yeah, next time.”
#cali’s kinktober#kinktober 2024#cod kinktober#call of duty kinktober#graviora manent#by the californicationist#x female reader#x fem!reader#tf141#captain john price#captain price x reader#kyle gaz garrick#gaz x reader#johnny soap mactavish#soap x reader#simon ghost riley#ghost x reader#call of duty fanfic#cod mw2#call of duty#cod#cod mwii#the gang's all here#cod smut#tf 141 x reader#cod 141#task force 141#tf 141#task force 141 x reader#141 x reader
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Not a big deal pt1
miniseries; basketball player drew x high scl student reader
Summary: You lose your virginity to a random guy at a frat party miles away from your home. A few days later, you find out that he’s your brother’s competitor, for the regional colleges’ basketball tournament.
Genre: strangers to lovers, smut, angst, fluff
Warnings: cursing, age gap (18 & 24), protected sex (read at own caution
⋆.˚ please dont copy my work, if inspired please tag me
⋆.˚ this is entirely fictional, if uncomfortable then don't read
♡⸝⸝ (pretend drew is 24 in this one) | p2 | index | p3
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
You never thought this day would come.
The day you lose your virginity.
You’re in a frat house party miles away from your home, kissing an attractive stranger. Not your ideal way of losing your virginity, but at least you were doing it with an attractive guy.
His name’s Drew. Yeah. That’s the only thing you know about him.
And also that he’s a great kisser.
He’s also the second guy you’ve ever made out with.
You try kissing him with the same pace he is, but that just makes him pull away, looking down at you with hooded eyes and parted lips. “Slow…just relax,” he whispers, and you nod, making him smile.
You feel his smile against your lips, and you actually listen, slowing down and kissing him at your own pace. You tilt your head back into the pillow, and Drew takes the opportunity to kiss you deeper.
His hands go under your skirt, massaging your bare thigh. His lips move down your neck, kissing your collarbone and cleavage.
“Drew…” you moan softly, hands tangled into his hair.
He pulls away from you, and you immediately miss the warmth of him. But he pulls his shirt off, and your eyes are blessed with the sight of his upper body. You also don’t miss how erected he is. “Your…shirt,” his eyes move to your chest.
You sit up slightly, and reluctantly pull your top & bra off. Now you feel really, self-conscious. It’s your first time being naked in front of someone, and it felt…unnatural. Is he…going to judge you for your chest size? Or the freckles on around your chest area?
“Beautiful,” he whispers, which surprises you. You feel your entire body going an entire degree hotter than it already was. He then chuckles. “Beautiful,” he repeats again, before leaning in and kissing you.
You smile against his lips, and lean back into the pillow. Your wrap your arms around his neck as he moves down your chest, and starts kissing around your breast.
He leaves wet kisses around on both of your breasts, unwrapping and wrapping his mouth around each. Your soft moans drives him to suck on your nipples harder, giving each the right amount of attention.
“Fuck,” you breathe out, when he’s done. He kisses down your stomach, stopping right above your skirt. You look down to meet his hooded eyes, a small trail of drool on the corner of his lips. You shyly smile, knowing you got this insanely attractive man on top of you, making you feel good. “Hey,” you breathe out.
“Hey,” he smiles softly too, his fingers playing with the ribbon on your underwear. He then looks down at your skirt, and pulls the underwear off. Cold air hits your pussy, but you like it. “I wanna fuck you in this skirt.”
Shit. Then he palms your pussy, causing you to arch your back. His free hand pins you back down, as he spreads your legs for him. “You’re soaking wet already.”
“Drew…” you softly say, wrapping your hand around his, the one around your waist. You want him to fuck you. Like, right now. You didn’t care if he found you weird for getting wet just from kissing; you just want him.
He lowers his head between your legs, and you feel his hot breath hit your pussy. Swear, you feel like an orgasm is near. “Lemme eat you first,” he says, kissing your inner thigh. Then, he presses his tongue flat against your pussy.
“Fuck,” you moan, your hands tugging at his hair. You feel him chuckle lightly, before he starts devouring you. Drew’s tongue was good. He’s eating your pussy, as if it’s his last meal on earth. Maybe you’ll cum just on his tongue alone.
You feel two of his fingers entering you, and you gasp loudly. It feels good, and really tight. It reminds you again that it’s your first time. Drew plants a kiss on your inner thigh, his fingers moving slowly.
“You’re…really tight,” he breathes out, and you look down at him, between your legs. His eyebrows are slightly furrowed, the corner of his lips slightly curled up. “This…you’re not a virgin, are you?”
That comment catches you off-guard. Should you…lie? Tell the truth? Shit. Is he gonna…back out once he knows you’re a virgin? So, you lie. “Been a long time,” you breathe out, his fingers still in you.
He chuckles, kissing your jawline. “Sure,” he sucks on your collarbone, his fingers starting to busy themselves by thrusting into your hole.
“Shit,” you curse, breathing heavily. He thrusts his fingers deep into you, stretching you out for him. He makes sure to go deep-deep with his fingers, and you’re pretty sure you’re at your limit.
He groans at how tight you are, moving back down between your legs. He then plants soft kisses at your pussy, his fingers slowing down. Fuck. You want him to keep going. “Drew…I, I want you,” you voice out, even though the air was practically knocked out your lungs.
“All yours, babe.”
He pulls his fingers out of you, and gets off the bed. He strips out of his pants and underwear, his erected dick standing tall and proud. Fuck. He’s big. You’re not sure you can take it.
Drew walks to the nightstand, opening each drawer. He gets lucky in the last drawer, finding a box of condoms. He quickly checks the expiration date, before joining you on the bed yet again. You sit up, watching in anticipation, as he tears the pack open and wraps it around his erection.
Shit. This was really happening.; You're about to lose your virginity.
You gulp once he’s done, wondering how he’s going to fully fit inside of you. “Drew, that’s-“
“You’ll fit,” he cuts you off, softness in his voice. He pecks your lips, intertwining his fingers with yours, pinning you back down to the mattress. “You’ll fit, and it’ll feel good.”
You nod, trusting a total stranger.
You watch him adjust his dick to your hole, but only he’ll see since the skirt covers your view. But you feel his tip against the entrance, and you want to squeeze your thighs together.
“Fucking beautiful,” he compliments, before looking up at you. Butterflies are flying crazy in your stomach.
He then sticks himself in, and you moan loudly. “Shit,” he kisses your jaw, and you thought that was his whole thing, but then he pushes deeper, his entire dick now nested inside you.
“Fuck!” You gasp, your free hand scratching Drew’s back. This… this is a completely different feeling compared to just his fingers. It’s a hundred times more thick and…and rough. You’re breathing heavily, and so is Drew, his hot breath fanning your forehead.
He then moves out, and then thrusts in. You moan, your grip on Drew tight. “Too much?” You hear teasing in his voice, and you look up at him. Sure enough, a small smirk is on his lips.
You pull him down, and you kiss him as a reply. He kisses you back, and thrusts into you once again. This time, he thrusts harder, making you gasp into his mouth. “I don’t think… I want to go slow on you,” he whispers against your lips.
Fuckkk. Does he know how hot he is?
“Go ahead,” you breathe out, and his hand squeezes yours tightly after hearing that. His smile is all smitten, kind of matching yours.
He thrusts into you roughly, and picks up the pace after each one. Your moans are his motivation to keep going, as well as the sound of skin-slapping in the room. The kisses that he trails along your body just serves as a bigger help to your orgasm.
He even takes one of your legs and hoists it upwards, to get deeper into you. He hits a spot that takes your satisfaction levels to a new ground, pretty sure that he’s hit your g-spot. “Drew…” you moan, the pleasure fogging your mind up. “You… you’re…”
“Mmh?” He groans, biting down on his lip.
“I think I’m…fuck,” words are hard to form now.
Was sex suppose to feel this good? Or is it just Drew that makes it feel like you’re in heaven? Either way, it feels so fucking good.
And with your orgasm near, you’re a bit disappointed that this was ending. Who knows when you’ll find a guy who’ll have sex with you again, or if you’ll ever see this sexy guy again. “I’m close,” you finally say, looking at Drew with hooded eyes.
“Cum on my dick, babe.”
He kisses your forehead, cheeks, jawline while giving you a few more thrusts. And when he gives you a sloppy kiss, the knot in your stomach snaps, and you cum all over his dick, just like he told you to.
Drew continues to thrust into you, but slower this time, as he helps himself to his own orgasm. Your body goes limp, so you just watch as he uses you to cum. He moans in your ear when he finally cums, his moan like music to your ears.
He rests his forehead against yours, the both of you breathing heavily.
Drew’s the first one to talk. “Told you you’ll fit.”
“Yeah. And… and it was great.”
Shit. As soon as those words leave your mouth, you regret it. Who says that after sex? ‘It was great’. Are you some kind of psycho? Oh my gosh. This guy is probably rethinking all his life decisions, and hoping he never even kissed you. You’re such a stupid-
“Sensational,” he cuts off your thoughts. “It was sensational.”
You stare at him with doe eyes. What? You couldn’t help it; you burst out in laughter. His word choice is funny. He’s funny. And cute. And handsome.
He chuckles, probably from hearing your laugh. “Just saying.”
You wrap your arms around his neck. You can’t believe that you just lost your virginity to this guy. This…guy who uses the word ‘sensational’ to describe the sex. This guy who’s insanely handsome with a perfect body. This guy…who, who’s only looking for a hook-up.
This guy, who you’ll never see again.
And in this moment, you told yourself, that you'll never make yourself forget about this man.
——
You hate the jersey Luke forced you to wear.
You didn’t even want to come to this boring basketball game, totally fine with staying at home. But, your parents insisted, since it was the ‘final championship game for regional colleges’. Yeah. Your horrible brother was able to make it to the championship game, and if he won this round, his college student debts would be payed off, or something like that.
Well, Luke was stressed out enough to not bother you this entire morning, except making you wear his jersey.
You don’t hate your brother; he’s just very annoying. You grew up with him always teasing you, and never letting you know peace.
“Did you even wear pants underneath?”
You roll your eyes, lifting your jersey to show the shorts below. “Of course not,” you reply, a hint of sarcasm in your voice. You don’t know why your parents left you alone with Luke, when you didn’t even want to be here at all.
The commentator for the game announces there to be ten minutes left until the game starts. You look around, and the opposite team is not even out of the locker rooms. Only your brother’s team seen practicing or chilling by the side. Weird.
“Who are you guys competing against?” You ask, signaling Luke to scoot over on the chair.
He does; and you sit down beside him, looking onto the court with his teammates practicing. “Um, WCU.”
Why does that college sound very familiar? “They’re…not here yet,” you comment the obvious.
“Fuckers…trust me, y/n, they’re going to lose,” Luke cockily says, leaning forward.
You furrow your eyebrows, crossing your arms as you turn to your brother. “You score an average of ten points per game.”
“Thirty points. Per game. No wonder you’re so stupid,” he corrects you, and you roll your eyes. You knew your brother was good at basketball, just his attitude cancels out all his good parts. “Hey, I’m not captain for nothing.”
“Wow, so impressive,” you mockingly say, and he slaps your knee. You flinch in pain, even though he only slapped lightly. “Ouch! I’m telling mom.”
“So mature,” Luke rolls his eyes, turning to the court.
The commentator then asks your brother’s team to gather up front, to shake hands with the opposite team. Some kind of mannerism to show before the game. Problem is, WCU players haven’t even come out of the locker rooms.
“They think they’re the guests, so they can wait till the last fucking minute,” Luke suddenly complains to you. “Tell you what, their cheeky asses are going to lose so badly-“
“Hey, maybe something happened back there,” you say on purpose, cutting your brother off. He’s rude and egoistic, and you’re embarrassed to admit that you’re related to him. He gives you a ‘what the fuck’ look, and you just shrug. “Who knows.”
“You’re so fucking naive, it’s cute,” he…insults you? Is that an insult? Whatever. He stands up, before turning to face you while stretching. “Watch me beat their asses, y/n. I swear, you’ll see me holding the MVP cup-“
“Let’s welcome… the Western Carolina university! Going against Eastern Carolina university! For the regional basketball championship!” The commentator interrupts, and music starts to play loudly.
You look over at the court entrance, that’s connected to the locker rooms.
The players come out in single file, their supporters cheering loudly for them. Their uniforms are white, with red & yellow stripes. All of them are tall (of course) and all have this…dominating aura around them.
You look at each one of them as they walk onto the court, facing the crowd and waving at familiar faces. You scan their faces, playing a game of smash or pass in your head.
But when your eyes land on the last one to come in, you couldn’t believe it.
No fucking way. It was Drew. The Drew that you lost your virginity to, in a frat party at West Carolina. The frat party that your friend convinced you was worth the five hour drive. The frat party, where afterwards, you left without asking for Drew’s number (to be fair, before sex, you both agreed to it being a one-night stand).
You rub your eyes, hoping you got the wrong person. Nope. It was Drew. Standing there, hands behind his back, emotionless as his eyes scans the crowd. Wearing the basketball team uniform, a bandana keeping his hair back. His face, the same handsome features you stared at when being fucked by him.
“Look at them, a bunch of losers, right?” Luke sits down beside you, not even trying to lower his volume.
Oh fuck. “Hey, you alright?” Luke suddenly asks, making you peel your eyes away from Drew. Is it written all over your face that you fucked Drew?
“Why wouldn’t I be?” You smile nervously. Your brother would freak out if he found out that you slept with his rival. Wait, he would freak out that you even lost your virginity in the first place. “why…you should go join your team.”
“But you seem-“
“Captain of the Eastern Carolina university team, please make your way to the court!” The commentator announces.
“That’s you!” You say nervously, patting your brother’s back.
He looks at you, with worried brows and confused eyes. “Okay…” he gets up, scratching his hair. He gets ready to join them, but then turns back to you again. Luke looks at you mischievously, before saying, “You didn’t give me a good luck kiss yet.”
You scrunch your nose in disgust, glancing at Drew. Oh shit. He’s staring at you! Does he recognize you? Of course he does, otherwise he wouldn’t be staring. “Fuck off, Luke,” you embarrassingly say, knowing everyone is waiting for him.
“C’mon, lil sis,” he pokes his cheek.
Fuck. Why can’t he ever just fuck off? You roll your eyes, before standing up and giving your brother a peck on the cheek. Why does he always want to embarrass you? Why is he such a pain in the ass?
“Thank you. Although, I never needed luck,” he grins, before running to join his team. You wanna kick him in the balls so hard right now.
You turn back to Drew, who’s still staring at you. His brows are furrowed, lips in a frown, and head tilted slightly to the side.
Fuck, fuck, fuck. This is so awkward and embarrassing. You want to disappear into the floor right now.
You get up and look away from him, walking to the seats behind. Your parents wave at you, and you just smile awkwardly as you walk up the steps.
Please, let this game end quickly.
——
Whenever Drew scored a point, he would look over at you with a small smirk on his face. Which was, almost always. He must’ve scored over a half for his team (you were exaggerating, but he did consistently score).
And as for your brother, they were behind. Behind by more than twenty points, and it was the last quarter. It was humiliating, and stress was written all over Luke’s face. You’ve never heard your brother yell at his teammates as much as right now, or yell in such a harsh manner.
The last minute of the game. ECU is definitely losing the championship.
Some of the crowd continues to cheer, and most definitely, the ECU students are bowing. Either at WSU or their school, you’re not so sure anymore.
Thirty seconds left. You watch as a team member on court starts cheering, wanting Drew to go along with him. But Drew ignores him, saying something serious to him. He listens, and wipes the smile off his face.
Twenty seconds left. Your brother got the ball. A teammate nearby waves to him, wanting to get his attention to pass the ball to him. Luke ignores him; traveling through the court; he wants to score all by himself, just to boost his ego.
Ten seconds left. Drew defends against Luke, getting close and blocking his way of scoring.
Five seconds left. Luke jumps at the same time Drew does, and Drew manages to block his ball away, the ball knocked out of your brother’s hands.
To you, it all happens in slow motion.
Still in mid-air, your brother pushes Drew, hard. He falls, missing the basketball hoop-pole only by a few centimeters, landing on the hard floor. Shit.
The bell rings, and the crowd around you all stand up, cheering loudly. Confetti also dropped, further making it hard to see. Fuck.
“Your brother tried his best,” your mom says, standing up and clapping.
You furrow your eyebrows at her, standing up beside her. “What? He got a lot of penalties, yelled at the referee, and pushed Drew. He did not play well.”
“Who’s Drew?” Your mom asks, turning to you confusingly.
Your eyes widen, and you turn away to the court. Shit. “I said crew, mom. He pushed one of the crew from the other team,” you lie. You get to get a glimpse of Drew, who gets up with the help of his teammates. He's rubbing his lower back, pain on his face. Fuck. That fall must’ve hurt. What was your brother thinking?
You watch as the two teams are called to shake hands again, your brother and Drew, standing close to each other. Luke, having a cocky smile on his face, says something to him. Drew says something back, before holding his hand out. Your brother shakes it, his smile now gone, and his expression turned mean.
What did they say to each other?
After everyone finished shaking hands, ECU went off the court, and WCU was cheering with each other. Luke looked like he wanted to murder someone.
Someone in a suit presents the championship trophy, handing it to Drew, who takes it with a proud smile on his face. Cute.
Another trophy comes, and the commentator introduces it as the MVP award. It’s handed to Drew too. But he hands the championship trophy to someone beside him, who immediately raises it up high in triumph.
Then, you make eye contact with Drew. He’s smiling at you, and he holds the trophy near his chest. Fuck, fuck, fuck, butterflies are forming in your stomach right now.
But the eye contact breaks when his teammates pull him by wrapping an arm around his neck, urging him to celebrate. You watch as he laughs at something they say, reminding you of that night, when he chuckled after hearing you laugh.
Fuck. The urge to run down here and talk to him is beating loudly in your mind.
But you don't. You were nobody to him; just someone he fucked on a random Friday night.
Same goes for you; just someone you lost your virginity to. No big deal. Not something really important. Just...not a big deal, right?
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word count: 3.5k
ִ ࣪𖤐 a/n: hope you enjoyed reading as much as i enjoyed writing this! (ignore my mistakes plsss) there will be a part two, so look forward to it <3 and these next two months i will be very happy, since obx s4 is out (won't stop smiling). also, wondering if anyone has any suggestions on what /who they would like me to write about! (recently thinking of jungkook bts & nicholas chavez)
#drew starkey#drew starkey imagine#drew starkey x reader#fiction#mini series#strangers to lovers#drew starkey x you#smut#fluff#angst#part one
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Hi! For the celebration, how about… “Do you know you’re bleeding?” with Tommy.
Maybe a more light hearted protective Tommy situation <3
Hi there, anon! Thanks for sending this in! I’m sorry it took a little bit for me to get to. I love me some protective Tommy! I hope you like what I did with the prompt. Enjoy! :)
I’D LOVE TO KNOW WHAT YOU THINK! - YOUR COMMENTS & REBLOGS HELP ME WRITE!
Part of my 3.5k Celebration — find more stories here!
An Unfortunate Accident
Tommy Shelby x Reader
Warnings: language, blood
Word Count: 601
Summary: When Tommy finds (Y/N) injured after something silly happened to her, he immediately thinks the worst.
“Shit,” (Y/N) hissed as she quickly cradled her hand against her chest. She gritted her teeth as a surge of pain quickly shot down her arm. “Shit, shit, shit!”
She looked around the kitchen. There has to be something I can use to cover this, she thought to herself as the pain grew stronger. Footsteps sounded off the hardwood just as she managed to grab one of the dish towels sitting on the counter. A quick spin to face the archway told her that Tommy had entered the room. Shit.
“Hi, Tommy,” she tried to sound as nonchalant as possible as she greeted her husband. Her both hands were now hdiden behind her back, and she was placing as much pressure on her injury as possible. “You’re home early,” she commented sheepishly.
“Not really,” he answered, his brows furrowing slightly as he took in the sight of her. “What’s happened?” he asked her then, closing the gap between them as worry seeped into his features. Between her frazzled state and how things looked, his mind was starting to create several scenarios.
“What?” her question came out like a breath, her heart hammering in her chest.
“Do you know you’re bleeding?” he asked.
“I’m not,” she dismissed him, speaking a little too quickly for her liking.
“You are. It’s all over your dress, love,” he answered, motioning to the article of clothing. (Y/N) quickly looked down to see that the front of her dress was indeed stained crimson. A sigh left her lips. “So tell me the truth. What happened?” he asked again, his voice level, his tone one that she couldn’t argue with.
“You’re going to laugh,” she sighed, her sheepishness returning.
“I’m not,” he assured her with a slight shake of his head, his eyes still focused on her.
(Y/N) held his gaze for a few moments, still weighing it all out in her mind. Tommy kept his eyes on her, his eyebrows raising after a few seconds of silence had passed - his nonverbal way of saying ‘I’m waiting’.
One more sigh escaped her lips before she finally brought her (now blood-stained) cloth-covered hand back into view. “I, uh…I was chopping some of the vegetables, and a bird flew into the window. The bang it made scared me and my hand slipped. I sliced my finger pretty good.”
“A bird?” Tommy questioned, incredulousness seeping into his words. His eyes left hers, albeit for a moment, to glance out the window…as if said bird was still going to be hovering there.
“Yes, a bloody bird,” (Y/N) answered, a dire earnestness present in her voice. She watched her husband’s face carefully, waiting for what she knew would becoming. The second she saw his lips twitch, she jumped on him. “You said you weren’t going to laugh!” she exclaimed.
“I’m not laughing!” he defended himself, although he couldn’t help but let a few chuckles out. This made (Y/N) glare at him, and she smacked him on the chest without thinking.
“Ow! Fuck. Tommy!” she exclaimed, her eyes wide with pain.
“Didn’t quite think that one through, eh?” he questioned with a chuckle. (Y/N) couldn’t even be mad at him…he was right. “Lemme see it,” he said then, coaxing her to show him her injured hand.
It took a few moments, but she showed it to him. “It’s bad, isn’t it?” she asked, cringing at the sight of it.
“I’ve seen worse,” he answered, glancing up at her to send a smile before focusing on her hand again, “let’s get it cleaned up.”
*tags in reblog so that hopefully they get sent out.
MASTERLIST
#tommy shelby#tommy shelby x reader#tommy shelby x you#tommy shelby x y/n#tommy shelby blurb#tommy shelby imagine#tommy shelby fanfic#tommy shelby fanfiction#peaky blinders#peaky blinders x reader#peaky blinders x y/n#peaky blinders x you#peaky blinders blurb#peaky blinders imagine#peaky blinders fanfiction#peaky blinders fanfic#fanfiction#fanfic#k’s 3.5k celebration
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