#vibrates and clips into wall
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slides onto table
i'm just saying that a piece of jewlery made from a droplet from your persona is an untapped gift potential between persona users
I wonder if different personas make different colored droplets...
#files this into story concept ideas for later#it fun to brainstorm what sorts of gifts they'd be made into#p4 brainrot says: Yukiko's looks like its full of little embers or kanji might have little crackles of electricity#ohh are navi's different? can you shake rise's and it makes a little radar sound?#vibrates and clips into wall
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Amy: Man..I wish a guy would love me like I love them :(
Scourge, in his head: ME!!! PICK ME, FUCK. ILL DO THAT!!!
Scourge, outloud: Damn, that's crazy.
#j.p speaks#scourge gets in his own way 😔#scourge the hedgehog#amy rose#amy: I want love 💔#scourge vibrating so hard he might clip through walls: ...Oh?
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it doesn't matter how quietly you attempt to get off at night; your lieutenant is always listening, always grumpy about the pretty sounds disturbing his slumber.
you were embarrassed when he brought it up to you (keep it down, can't fuckin' sleep with oll tha' racket), so you opted to not use your vibrator the next night, instead using your fingers like some lady from the 1800's. it wasn't as efficient, but it did the job, and you were knocked out after a few orgasms.
you think you're doing good, as he doesn't confront you about your nightly activities for a few days after that. not until one morning when he pulls you over to an obscured area outside, not paying any mind to your stumbling and hissing.
even with the mask on, you can tell he's scowling. "how many times do i 'ave to tell you to keep it down?" he grumbles, peering down at you through golden eyelashes. his head tilts as he speaks, and you have to force yourself to not squeeze your thighs together in front of your superior officer. "i can hear tha' wet cunt through the walls every night—are you tha' thirsty for it, pet?" a finger clips onto your belt loop, and you're being tugged closer, a chuckle rumbling from him when he takes notice of how flustered you're getting.
you've never wanted to explode into tiny pieces more in your life than this moment. your cheeks feel hot, and you can only stare up at him and watch as his gaze roams down your body. heated. predatory.
"i— i don't want—" you try to deny what you know is inevitable because ghost always gets his way, but it's thrilling to watch how he pushes his body against yours, the smell of him overpowering your rational thoughts. he only peels the mask high enough to free his mouth before he's shoving his tongue down your throat, a gloved hand finding its way to the front of your pants.
that night, when you crawl into bed with a fully charged vibrator, warmth already swirling in your belly, you think about how ghost's hands felt on your body. how he so meanly nudged the fat head of his cock in until he was fully sheathed, stretching you so thin you swear he was going to split you apart.
("there we go," he coos—or rather snarls at you, thick fingers filling up your mouth because you were whining too loud for his liking. "knew you wanted this fuckin' cunt stuffed full o'me," he groans while pawing at your chest, harsh pants hitting your ear. "tha's why you're so loud, innit? nasty fuckin' thing.")
how he kissed you like he was trying to consume you, licking into your mouth with such fervour, you were surprised he hadn't already burst into flames. he resembles a brick more than an actual human sometimes, but patience has always been his strongest quality.
you really shouldn't be surprised when ghost pours into your room while you're making yourself dizzy with thoughts of him, your brain liquifying on the pillow from the constant delicious vibrations against your throbbing clit. the sound of the door being kicked shut behind him startles you as he stalks over to your bed.
"i'm starting to think you like pissing me off." he growls softly, the bed squeaking underneath his weight. the vibrator is still buzzing against you, and you swallow when his eyes drop down to the soft, wet mess between your legs. "get on your fuckin' knees, girl."
#am i doing too much with the accent?#idc it's fun to write#ghost#simon ghost riley x reader#simon riley x reader#rainwrites 𐙚
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Private Viewing
Camboy!Eddie Munson x fem reader
Word Count: 6.8k
What happens when your favorite camboy is in your class? You should stop watching his content... or should you? What happens when you are eventually paired together for a project? Everything will be just fine, won't it?
Warning: 18 +. This is pure fucking filth. Spit, masturbation (m and f), use of vibrators and fleshlight, choking, multiple orgasms, squirting, oral (f reviving), fingering, voyeurism? Soft!dom Eddie, tell me if I'm missing anything.
Thank you @lesservillain for giving me this wonderful idea. 💗 and @munson-blurbs for figuring out if I should do this for Steve or Eddie and for helping give me a title💗.
Masterlist
Nothing but slick sounds filled your room, the occasional deep moan calling out from your laptop speakers accompanying your own sweet cries. The guy on the screen, Ed as he called himself, or DungeonMaster as he was known on Only Fans and Twitter, was fisting his cock in his heavily ringed hand. He was putting on a show for more than ten thousand viewers but the way he stared down the camera with those dark eyes made you think he was watching you, fucking his hand to the way you were pumping your fingers in and out of your soaking wet pussy.
You had stumbled upon his Twitter three months ago and he immediately captured your eye. The way his tattoos wrapped around his pale skin, how he wasn’t all lean muscle like the other OF guys, his tummy by no means a six-pack but he still looked strong enough to sweep you off your feet with ease. His moans were heavenly and so was the deep timber of his force as he praised you through the thirty-second video clip. It was all enough to convert you from your usual consumption of smutty books to the infamous Only Fans sight.
Since then, his streams and videos have become the one and only thing you get off to. And like then, tonight was no exception.
You were so close to the edge, Ed’s moans spurring you on. Your fingers move at an almost inhuman pace in and out, in and out.
“Rub that clit for me, baby. Need you to cum.” He groaned, head resting on his shoulder as he continued you pleasure himself.
“Fuck!” You gasp as you rub your clit with your free hand. Your rhythm is horribly off but it doesn’t matter, you are so close to cumming. So so so close. “Please,” you beg out into your empty room. You aren’t too sure why or what you are pleading for. More friction? More fingers? More words of encouragement from him? Maybe you’re asking to cum?
It’s like he had heard you through the screen as he moaned out, “That’s a good girl. Just like that. Doing so well for me. You gonna cum baby? Yeah? Me too. Want me to count for you?” He nods his head lazily. “I knew you would baby. Okay. Five.”
You want to cry.
“Four.”
The strings tugging inside you are becoming taut.
“Three.”
You feel like you’re going to explode. He’s counting too slowly.
“Two.”
The tears are flowing now.
“One.”
You let out a strangled scream.
“Cum baby. Do it, now.”
Your walls clench around your fingers and your legs snap shut, trapping your fingers. Every muscle in your body is shuddering as those strings snap and your release comes out in a stream, wetting your hand and the bed. Your hearing has gone, there’s a ringing in your ears but you can faintly hear Ed cumming as well.
With watery vision and slow movements, you turn to face your laptop screen just in time to see his tattoo-covered chest painted with milky white ropes of cum.
When the ringing subsides you hear him say more clearly, “Thata girl. Always make me cum so much.” He takes a towel and wipes off his chest and stomach before adjusting the camera view to the shoulders up. “Get you some rest baby, I’ll see you on Thursday.”
And then the live is over.
Slowly, sluggishly, you remove your hands from between your legs and begin the now regular clean-up routine before going to bed.
…
Three days later, Thursday rolls around, and thus begins the fall semester of your junior year of college. It’s a groggy morning, everyone is tired and very unenthusiastic about having an 8 a.m. advanced music composition class.
You had struggled to get out of bed at six this morning just to get one of the dorm showers first before they were all taken up. Luckily two of the five were open and you were able to get to class a whole twenty minutes early, even having time to grab coffee at the on-campus Starbucks on the way.
The music building was old and the tables you and your fellow students sat at were even older. It all added to the sleepy ambiance. Your eyes drooped and you yawned every time someone else did, the black coffee you had chugged not doing anything for you.
You’re only awoken when your professor, a stout old man with a very severe receding hairline, slams open the door to the classroom a little too hard and it hits the brick wall, creating a loud, startling bang.
He apologizes before making his introduction. He then gets out a clipboard with a sheet attached and hands it off to a girl in the front row, instructing everyone to fill in their name and school email for his role sheet.
It’s only once you’ve finished and passed the clipboard on, that you notice the guy two seats down from you looks vaguely familiar. You can’t quite put a finger on it and it bugs you.
His hair is pulled back into a messy bun and his clothes make him look like the alternative guy of your dreams back in high school. He’s got rings on almost every finger and an aura that just screams confidence.
It begins to become a problem, your inability to place this guy's face. You’ve only taken a handful of notes the entire first hour and thirty minutes into this two-hour class. Your eyes are constantly staring at him no matter how hard you try to make yourself pay attention.
Then, he raises his hand to answer one of your professor's questions. That’s when it clicks. Your pen falls from your grasp and your mouth forms an O.
“Oh my fucking god. No. It can’t be.” You think to yourself but just to be sure you take out your phone, turn the brightness and volume down, and hide it under the table. You open Twitter as fast as you can and you don’t even have to look for his user, he’s the first post on the screen.
Ed @ DungeonMaster86 was boldly displayed above a picture of the guy sitting next to you with his massive dick in his hand.
It’s a wonder you weren’t caught with how you practically choked on thin air and began furiously looking from your phone to the guy and then back to your phone.
Your stomach drops. You can’t keep watching his videos, can you? That wouldn’t be right. That would be weird, watching the porn your classmate makes.
When class is finally called to an end you pack up as quickly as you can and bolt out the door to your next class, hoping that by getting away from Ed, you'd be able to concentrate. Out of sight, out of mind.
That statement turns out to be false when he is in your next class and when you spot him in the student commons talking with another guy. It's like once you made the connection of who he was, he was everywhere.
…
Arriving back at your dorm, you throw your backpack on your desk, snatch your laptop out of it, and struggle to jump up onto your bed. Never had you been so thankful for the single dorm than this moment as your curser hovered over the bookmarked Only Fans page at the top of your screen. No roommate meant no one would see the moral dilemma you were currently losing with yourself.
‘You know him, it’s wrong to keep watching his videos.”
‘What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him though. The only way he would know you are watching is if you tell him, you aren’t going to tell him, are you?’
‘No…’
‘Then it’s okay, it’ll just add an extra element of taboo to his streams. Plus, he’d miss you in the chat.’
You sigh as the devil on your shoulder wins out once again, talking you into something you know you shouldn’t be. But hey, it feels good to be bad.
Steadily, you click on his bookmarked profile and the first thing to pop up is the live stream that is currently in session. And against your better judgment, you enter the stream.
He’s only just started, people are slowly filtering in. Ed is sitting on the edge of his bed, shirt off, and a singular, ringed hand teasing himself through his black jeans.
You breathe a sigh as he looks into the camera, eyes half-lidded, luring you in. It does the job, because in an instant your fingers are typing out a message in chat.
Princess23: hi Ed
His eyes flicker as he reads his messages, smiling as he replies to you. "Hi, Princess. How's my girl been?"
There's a bubble of excitement at the fact that he recognizes your username, even if you've been a regular in the chat for months.
Princess23: stressful… you've been distracting me.
The reply to his question is truer than he realizes.
"Aww, princess, is that so? You've been thinking of me?" He leans back on his free elbow, still groping himself with the other hand.
Princess23: yes. been thinking about your cock, how much I want it in my mouth.
It's one of the less bold comments you make but it makes you blush all the same, especially now.
"Yeah? You want me to fuck that pretty little mouth? Of yours?"
Princess23: yes please
"Mmm." He hums, fingers now fumbling with the button and zipper of his jeans.
You set your laptop to the side and start to situate yourself. Slowly taking your clothes off one by one.
Ed replies to a few more comments before announcing that it's time to start.
He leaves the screen for just a moment before coming back with something in his hand. Smirking at the camera he shows it. A flashlight in the shape of a mouth.
"This one’s for you, Princess. Since you need my dick so bad," Ed explains. He sets it on his bed before making a show of taking his jeans and boxers off.
As you watch, your hands roam your body. Fingers pinching and pulling at your sensitive nipples before trailing down. The light touch over your ribs makes you giggle. Then you rub and scratch at the inside of your thighs.
Ed's moans are now coming through your speakers, you tilt your head to watch.
"Spit on my cock baby, get it nice and wet for me." He commands before spitting in his own hand and rubbing it on his thick length.
"Your mouth looks so pretty like this, waiting, drooling for me. Need me to fill it so bad don't you, baby?"
"Yes." You answer him breathlessly, fingers teasing around your mound.
You watch and he sits back down on his bed, thighs spread, a hand cupping his balls and the other grabbing the fleshlight. He lets out a long, drawn-out moan when he inserts his cock into the fake mouth.
"Fuck baby, your mouth feels so perfect."
You can't help but whine. Allowing your fingers to finally circle your clit.
The both of you go one like this for a bit. Him fucking the fleshlight and you massaging your clit. But then you need more, more than your hand can give you. So you reach to your bedside table, stretching at an uncomfortable angle to open the drawer and pull out the purple mini wand you kept there.
The vibrations start slow and constant as you press the toy to your clit. It pulls soft, quiet noises from you as you watch your computer screen. Your mind is blank, filled only with the pretty sounds Ed is making, the way his body looks, and the pleasure between your legs.
There are no thoughts. You follow his lead. When his hand speeds up, you kick up the vibrations, when he slows down, you turn the vibrator back to the first level.
It's a rollercoaster, almost, taking your pleasure for a ride. The stream isn't even done yet when you feel that tight pull in your abdomen. The toy works you up fast.
So you stop. Taking the toy away and changing positions. On your hands and knees, you hug a pillow to your chest and prop the toy up under you, keeping it standing as you push your clit down onto it. It's not even on and it's making your hips buck in sensitivity.
You turn it back on and immediately feel the slick seeping from your cunt and running down the toy.
"Oh fuck," you cry. Your eyes locked on the screen where Ed has also changed positions.
He's got his own toy lying on the bed and he's laying over it. The way his leg and glute muscles contract as he thrusts into the toy has you memorized.
He chants, "Baby, baby, baby." Over and over. What you would give to have him chanting your name instead. Like a prearranged falling from his lips, praising you, worshiping you.
The need for him grows and so does the tightness in your core.
Reaching your hand down you turn the speed up. Your hips buck into the toy and you bury your face in the pillow. You're close.
He’s not far behind. Peering up from your pillow you can see his thrusts are sputtering. Sporadic as he draws close to his end.
“God dammit, baby. Gonna cum in this perfect mouth of yours. Fuck. Can you swallow it like the good pet you are? Hum? The good pet I know you can be?”
“Yes.” You turn up the vibrator. “Fuck, wanna swallow all of you. Please.”
The vibrations are becoming too much but you keep the toy pressed into you, hips shaking at the feeling of being overstimulated.
Without warning, you cum with a guttural cry into your pillow. Body spasming, muscles twitching. You can still hear Ed moaning and the sloppy sounds of his cock fucking the fleshlight.
With barely any energy you reach down between your heavy body and the bed and turn your toy off. You don’t even bother with your computer, too exhausted and fucked out to exit the stream. You fall asleep to the sounds of your new classmate's self-pleasure.
…
It’s October now. The semester is halfway over and you’ve still been watching Ed, or Eddie. You learned his actual name in class when your professor called role on him by name the second week.
Today you are being assigned a partner for the final project. You have your fingers crossed that Eddie won’t be chosen as your partner but as your professor calls out pairs, it seems luck is against you.
You freeze when your name is called and directly after so is Eddie’s. You groan internally. How the hell are you supposed to do this? You already have trouble concentrating when he sits two seats away, what’s going to happen when he actually interacts with you?
There isn’t much time to think about that as he abruptly moves from his seat to the one directly next to you.
“Hi.” He says, eyes bright and expectant. “I’m Eddie.” He holds out his hand for you to shake but you just stare at him. He looks at you curiously before waving his hand in front of your face. “Hello? Cat got your tongue?”
You snap out of your stupor and accept his hand, shaking it as you introduce yourself. “Sorry. I was a bit out of it.” You say, trying to play it off as you just staring off into space.
“No problem.” He smiles. “Uh, do you want to exchange numbers so we can figure out when we can work on this together?”
“Oh, yeah. Here,” You open your phone and push it to him with the messages app open. “You can text yourself.”
He does just that, even going as far as putting in his contact name as Eddie with the skull and crossbones emoji beside it.
“Great. I’ll text you when I’m free. I have work on Mondays and Thursdays, sometimes on Saturdays, but other than that I’m usually free.”
You nearly choke when you realize he’s given you his streaming schedule. “I- uh. Okay. Just text me when you can.”
"Sure thing sweetheart." He grins at you before standing, grabbing his things, and heading out of class along with the rest of the students.
You sit there for a minute, thinking. God, what are you getting yourself into?
…
You both have finally come up with meeting times that work for both of you. Tuesday and Wednesday after seven. Giving you time to get to the school library after the closing shift at your on-campus job.
It’s been two weeks of working together on this project and it’s been easier than you had originally thought to concentrate on the task at hand and keep your dirty thoughts at bay.
Right now, you are both sitting in one of the private study rooms looking at Eddie’s computer as he explains why this particular cord progression would fit with the emotions you are trying to convey in your composition.
You sigh, “Eddie, as much as I love that sound, I really don’t think it fits with the overall composition of the song. It isn’t as emotionally charged as I’d like it to be.”
“Well show me something similar to what you’re wanting.” He rakes his hand through his hair. It’s been a long night for each of you. It seems that every new section of the song you are creating for the project gives you a new challenge to work through together.
You pull out your phone and Eddie leans over to watch as you begin to type. There is a particular song you are thinking of that has the weight and emotion you are trying to convey with your own music and as you type the first letter of the song, O, the first suggestion that pops up is onlyfans/DungeonMaster.
Mortified, you slam your phone down on the table. Eddie looks at you with an eyebrow raised.
“What was that?” He asks.
“What was what?” You answer.
“Why did you slam your phone down?”
“Oh, I just forgot the title of the song.”
“Right…” He scratches under his chin and then stretches back in his chair. “Why don’t we call it quits for tonight? It’s getting late and we aren’t going to agree on anything if we’re both tired.”
A yawn suddenly comes up out of nowhere and you then realize how tired you actually are. “That sounds good to me.” You agree with Eddie and begin packing up your things. You don’t want to be with him longer than you need to be right now, even if he seemingly didn’t notice his OF user pop up on your phone screen.
“Bye Eddie.” You wave to him on your way out the door.
Faintly you hear him call out to you, giving a goodbye of his own. "See ya, sweetheart."
…
After your little slip, you began avoiding Eddie. At least in person, you still tuned into his streams. You bailed on the next three meetups you had planned, helping only through voice notes and text. Eddie said he understood when you said your boss was forcing you to stay late to deep clean.
It was Thursday now and when you saw him in class he barely looked your way and you wondered if he had seen what you hoped he had not.
You tried stopping him once your lecture was over, feeling an anxiousness creeping into your mind. Your conscience had been telling you to come clean. To explain your perversion. Let him know you watched him, that you paid to enjoy seeing him fuck into a toy or his hand.
You called out his name and reached for his arm. "Eddie."
He turns to you. "Hum?"
You take a deep breath to ground yourself. "I wanted to say sorry for not being able to come help with the project."
"It's okay, you said you had work." He replies, unbothered.
"No, Eddie, I didn't get held back at work. That was a lie."
He doesn't look all too surprised.
"I've kinda been avoiding you because- well, because of what I think you might have seen on my phone that day."
Eddie stops you there. "Can this wait until later? I've really got some errands to run before work."
"Oh, uh, yeah. Sorry to keep you Ed." You had meant it as a nickname but as it came pushing past your lips it was too late to take it back. You had never heard anyone call him that outside of his onlyfans.
You watched as his eyes widened at the name and a spark went off behind them. "I'll see you later sweetheart." The smirk he gives you isn't the usual playful one you'd seen him throw before. No, this was sinister, like he knew.
Your heart fell into your stomach as you watched him walk away, leaving you alone.
Tonight as you logged into the stream, it wasn’t to get off. It was to see if he'd show any signs of knowing you might be lurking about among the thousands of viewers.
When the video loads, Eddie is sitting in his desk chair. He's talking to the chat like he always does. There's something different in the atmosphere around him, mischief if you've placed it correctly.
He keeps replying to comments until the clock reaches 6:10. It's time for the show to begin.
"Tonight I have a very special treat for you guys." Eddie starts as he reaches over just off camera to his desk. "I've got the wand out."
The chat erupts. Eddie doesn't bring his vibrator out often, but when he does, you know it's going to be a good show for every party involved.
"I would also like to say hello to a special quest in the stream tonight." Eddie’s smirk gets bigger and your heart pounds in your chest. "Hi, sweetheart. Hope you enjoy yourself."
You feel like you've been shot. There's a ringing in your ears and your breathing has stopped.
He knows. Fuck. He definitely knows. You've never heard him say that pet name on camera. It's always babe or baby when he refers to the collective whole watching the stream. Eddie has only ever used that name with you.
Eddie starts up the vibrator, tracing it over his covered cock. He hums at the feeling, loud and long.
You clench your thighs together. You tell yourself you should stop watching but you can't bring yourself to.
'He knows." You argue with yourself.
'But he wants you to watch. Why else would he say his pet name for you? Why else would he say he hopes you enjoy yourself? He knows and he likes it.'
The devil on your shoulder makes sense again and you curse it.
So, you watch. Intently, you watch. Your eyes never leave the screen.
Eddie whimpers once he has his cock out of his pants. The tip is a deep purple/red color, showing how worked up he's gotten already.
He lets his head fall back, resting on his chair as he moves the vibrator down to his balls. He presses it into himself before dragging it up his shaft and to the head.
You feel a wetness seeping into the cotton of your panties and as his legs widen, yours press together more.
"Oh fuck. Oh fuck, sweetheart." Eddie moans, mouth open slack and eyes squeezed shut.
You can't believe he's saying your pet name and making those noises. You wonder what he's thinking about. How you'd look sucking on his cock? Maybe what it would be like to be pounding into you, watching your cunt suck him in and clench around him.
Eddie grits his teeth when he turns the speed up. One hand is holding the vibrator just at the frenulum while the other is cupping and squeezing his balls.
Your thoughts are running wild and your hips have started to rock in search of some kind of friction.
He moves his hand from his balls and begins to tug on his shaft. Deep guttural moans fill the air, and the sound of them turns you on even more.
It's not long before Eddie is bucking his cock into his hand. You can see his muscles straining in his legs as he does.
"Fuck fuck fuck- ah fuck sweetheart, you've got me so close. Fuck." His voice is pinched. You can see the exhaustion in the furrow of his eyebrows as he pressed the vibrator over his tip, the change in placement making his hips shudder. “God, I’m gonna cum. The thought of you is gonna make me cum, sweetheart.”
Hearing his breathy, deep, timber of a voice say that the thought of you was going to do him in had you thinking you might just cum too. No touching required, just Eddie and his beautiful noises.
In a matter of seconds, Eddie is choking on his words as his balls go taut. He lets out a drawn-out grunt and ropes of cum begin to spurt out over his chest, covering him like a painting. He doesn’t even bother to clean himself up before he looks into the camera and says good night, chuckling when he mentions your particular pet name again. Then, the screen goes dark.
…
Fridays are slow in the used bookshop you work at. Especially after 4:30. No one had been inside in maybe an hour? Your boss left early, leaving you alone to close down at 6. For the past fifteen minutes, you’ve been putting misplaced books back where they belong, sweeping, and tidying up anything else you see.
Because of the usual slowness, you have your headphones on. The music isn’t loud but it does drown out the sound of the bell chiming as someone enters the building. You are unaware of the person creeping up behind you until you are suddenly turned around and corralled against the bookshelf.
You let out an alarmed screech only for your mouth to be covered by a big, warm hand. Your headphones fall to the floor beside you as they are accidentally knocked off your head. You hear his voice then, whispering in your ear.
“Hi, Sweetheart.”
“Eddie-” You heave, relieved it wasn’t someone coming to kill you in cold blood.
“Did you enjoy my show last night?” He leans back, caressing a strand of hair away from your face.
You shake your head. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” You deny. Even after you had told yourself you would come clean to him, granted that was before you knew he knew your secret.
“You don’t know, do you? I think you do why else would my account have popped up on your search suggestions the other day?”
Keeping your mouth shut, you refuse to answer.
Eddie takes your chin between his fingers and moves your face to the side as he leans into you. His lips tickle the shell of your ear as he speaks again. “So… Which one of my subs are you? Hum?”
Your mouth opens but nothing comes out.
Eddie tuts. “Don’t get all shy on me. Tell me. Now.” His tone is dominating. It’s one thing to hear it over a computer speaker, it's another when you hear it in person. His presence alone had your knees knocking.
“I-I,” You can't help but stutter. “It’s Princess23.” You shamefully tell him your user, eyes looking anywhere but his.
He sucks in a breath. “Oh, Princess. That was you?”
He forces you to look at him and you nod your head.
You hate that he’s making you look him in the eye, but you can see what’s swirling around deep within them. Desire, lust, dominance, but nothing mean. Nothing hurtful.
As you watch him, you catch the minute changes in his expression. His jaw clenches and his eyes darken, a hunger taking over as he stares you down.
“I can give you a private show if you want, baby.” He leans back in. “Right here,” He nipps at your ear lobe. “Right now.”
“Eddie, we can’t… We’re at my work.”
He looks around you, head swiveling to peer down both ends of the aisle. “It’s fine Sweetheart, no one’s here but us, right?”
“Yes, but-”
He cuts you off with a finger over your lips.
“Then let me show you why the real thing is so much better than what you’ve seen online.” He doesn’t give you time to think before his lips are on yours.
They are soft, almost pillow-like as they mold against yours. His tongue slithers its way into your mouth, tasting you, he moans when he does.
To you, he tastes like menthol cigarettes and black coffee with the faintest hint of weed. It’s intoxicating, and addicting. You’ve only had one taste and now you won't be able to function without him.
His hand cups your cheek and pulls you closer. Your arms wrap around his neck, fingers tugging at his hair. His body keeps you pinned to the shelves and he spreads your legs by inserting one of his own between them.
With him being so much taller than you, it only takes you barely bending your knees for you to make contact with his thigh. You are thankful when he doesn’t stop you from humping his leg. The friction of you rubbing yourself against him has the seam of your pants pressing against your clit. It’s a wonderful pressure that leaves your mind blank.
When he pulls away, you follow, not wanting his mouth to leave yours. Eddie chuckles when you give a needy whine.
"It's okay baby, I'll give you what you want." He coos. "But first, since you wanna get yourself off, you've got to make yourself cum on my leg."
You pout. "But Eddie…"
"Ah ah, don't complain sweet girl, you'll only make it take longer. Now get to work."
You do as he says, rolling your hips with purpose against him. He doesn't help you at all, he only provides support and kissed along your jaw every few seconds as he watches you work.
It's harder than you thought it would be. The layers of denim dulled the sensations yet added to the tension your clit felt as the fabric rubbed against it.
"Mmm, fuck." You gasp, fingers gripping onto Eddie’s shoulders. "M'so close. Eddie, I'm so close."
He smiles at you and he gives your body gentle touches. "That's it, Princess. Let go. Being such a good girl for me."
You moan loudly at his praise.
"That right sweet girl, use me to get yourself off. That's it, keep going."
His words are spurring you on, your hips, although losing their rhythm and steadiness, keep going strong. Then, you feel it. That tautness in your tummy and the ache in your bones. You are so close.
"Please, Eddie. Ah- so close. Need more." Your words are short and your hips move faster.
"What is it, baby? What do you need?" Eddie asks, willing to give you just a little.
"Kiss me again," you beg.
He obliges. Taking your face in his hands and practically devouring you.
The canter of your hips stalls as your body shudders against him. A sticky wetness can now be felt, uncomfortably, between your legs.
"So good for me." He praises.
You can feel how hard he is, his needy cock prominently pressing into your thigh.
"Wanna feel you. Eddie please, I need to feel you." You're practically begging him to fuck you now.
"Yeah, sweet girl? You need me to stretch that pretty pussy on my dick? Make you feel so good, baby." He trailed his kiss down to your neck, stopping only to suck and nip at the sensitive skin.
You nod frantically. "Yes, yes Eddie. Need you inside me."
Hands rush to unbutton pants, fingers caress bare skin, breaths hitch. You tug at Eddie's pants impatiently as he pulls your own down. The sudden feeling of cold air hitting the pool of slick between your thighs.
You are both a whirlwind of arms and clothes and a few books falling from their shelf. Eddie’s fingers make their way to your center, exploring between your folds.
You throw your head back, cracking it on the shelf above. "Ow," You moan out in pain.
"Careful there, Sweetheart." He gives you another kiss and moves his unoccupied hand to cradle your head.
The pain is instantly forgotten when two of his thick fingers circle your clit before pushing into your entrance.
"Mmmm- god." He feels so good inside you, fingers curling into your walls. The wet slick of him moving fills the stagnant air of the bookstore.
"You're sucking me in, baby. Pussy squeezing me so tight." Eddie rests his forehead on yours, his breath mixing with your own. "Can't wait to feel you around my cock."
Gasping in response, you buck your hips up into his hand. "More-"
It doesn't take much convincing for Eddie to pull his hand from between your legs and position his hard length at your entrance. Slowly he slips inside, meeting no resistance with how wet you are.
Eddie pushes into you, cock stretching you out farther than you think you've ever been before. His one hand rests on the back of your head while the other pushes your shaking hand out of his way as he goes to press it against your neck.
You grasp his arm, nails scratching his skin as he chokes you.
"Oh- oh, Eddie. Fuck me." You cry, cunt fluttering around him.
Your words are music to his ears. His pace begins steadily. In and out at a lazy, leisurely speed. Then he picks it up, hips bucking faster and faster.
He's giving it all to you. Everything you've dreamed of since you saw him on your Twitter all those months ago.
The head of his cock is repeatedly hitting that one spot inside of you that makes your toes curl. You can’t keep yourself up. The feelings coursing through you have your knees buckling and Eddie does a good job at catching your weight.
He stops his movements to try and situate you. “Come on, baby, gotta stand up.”
You shake your head. “I can’t, s’too much.” Your heart is pounding in your chest, if you even tried to stand you would just fall again. “There's a couch.” You point to the back of the store. “It’s in the break room.”
Eddie grunts as he hoists you up in his arms and follows your directions.
The couch is old and made of leather. It is cold on your skin as Eddie lays you down and you shiver as he rips your pants and underwear from around your ankles. Never would you have ever imagined being naked from the waist down in your work break room.
In contrast to the cool leather, Eddie’s hands are searing hot. He grips the back of your knees, picking your legs up and spreading you out. You’re almost folded in half.
“Jesus fucking christ. You. Are. Beautiful.” He enunciated every word. The complement has you keening and clenching around nothing. “Fuck, look at that pretty cunt. She’s gaping for me.” Eddie smiles, eyes flickering to yours before looking back to your most intimate part.
You let out a wonton gasp when he spits, a glob of it falling right atop your parted slit. Eddie takes a hand away and grabs his cock. He rubs the tip through your folds, giving your clit a heavy tap tap tap before entering you again and grabbing the back of your knee again.
Eddie wastes no time in pistoning his hips into yours. The new angle gives him free range of movement to fuck you fast and deep. The skin of his thighs makes a sharp slapping sound when he connects with your ass, it sets the rhythm for the song of your shared moans.
“Pull your shirt up.” He commands and you do as he says. Lifting your shirt up and over your breasts. Eddie lets out an irritated grunt at the sight of your bra. “That too.” He puffs out and you pull it up as far as it will allow.
Your breasts bounce as Eddie fucks you mercilessly into the couch. His eyes are shamelessly trained on them. “Fucking hell, Princess. Gimmie our hands.”
You reach out for him and he grabs your wrists, guiding you to hold your legs back like he had been doing. With the newfound freedom of his hands, he extends them out to play with your tits. He pinches and tugs at your nipples, making you moan in pleasure as he continues his assault. His thrusts become faster, harder, more desperate. You know he's close and you can't take much more either.
“Eddie… Ah- Eddie-” You babble out his name. You wiggle under his hold and the harsh prodding of his cock into your cervix. The strings of another orgasm are being pulled tight.
He growls. “I know baby, I know. Fucking cum for me. Cum on my cock.”
Tears well up in your eyes and begin to overflow. Your body writhes, back bowing, muscles straining. You’re on the precipice.
Eddie sees how close you are and moves a hand down between your legs, circling his thumb over your slick-covered clit.
“Oooh- Oh fuck!” You scream. “Shit shit shit shitshitshitshit…. Ah!”
“Louder.” He moans. “Want the whole town to hear you sweet girl.”
“Eddie! Oh, I’m there. I’m fucking there.” You cry, fat tears rolling down your cheeks as you let go. A scream erupts from your throat. Even in your ecstasy, you can feel Eddie’s tempo shift. He’s losing speed.
“Goddammit. I cumming too.” Eddie whimpers, sinking into you fully. His cum fills you up and you can fill you as it runs down your ass as he pulls out.
Your body is twitching as he moves you to lay more fully on the couch. He doesn’t follow though. No. He sinks to his knees and before your foggy mind can even comprehend it, he attaches his mouth to your pussy.
You are pliant under his touch, unable to resist. His tongue explores you and you moan in pleasure. He’s lapping up the mixture of his cum and your slick, humming at the taste the whole time.
You choke back a sob when his tongue flicks repeatedly over your clit before he begins to suck on the already abused bud. “Eddie, please.” Reaching down you tug on his hair but he doesn’t move. “Ed-” He starts shaking his head, burying himself in your pussy.
Another orgasm is quickly approaching. Your breathing quickens and you can feel your body trembling as he works you up, sending you higher and higher until you can’t take it anymore. Your orgasm hits you like a wave, and your body spasms in pleasure. He doesn't stop, continuing his ministrations until you finally come down from your high once more.
“Christ. You taste so good.” He says as he crawls up your spent body. Draping himself over you he places kiss after tender kiss all over your face. “Did so good for me. I’m so proud of you.”
“Yeah?” You whisper.
“Mhum. So proud.” He grins, the light of the room catching in the wetness covering him from nose to chin.
Eddie cuddles into you more and your eyes close. He’s exhausted you. You both lay there in silence, content in each other's presence. Eddie eventually falls asleep, his breathing slow and steady. You don’t have the heart or the energy to wake him. You stay awake, just barely, still in awe of what happened.
It feels like hours have gone by when you finally do shake Eddie, calling out to him softly. He stirs, grumbling as he looks up at you.
“Eds, baby, I need to lock up.”
He only rests his head back down between your breasts. You shake him again.
“Eddie.” You say it a bit more sternly. “Get up and I’ll let you take me back to yours.”
That gets his attention and he’s up and dressing himself in an instant. You on the other hand are slower, feeling the prominent ache between your legs. He has to help you pull your panties and jeans back on.
He has to help you close the store as well, your legs weak and not trusted to hold up your body weight without crumbling to the ground.
Never had you thought this was how this would end. Sitting in the passenger seat of your favorite camboy's car as he drives you to his apartment, grinning like the Cheshire cat as you both think of all the fun things you’ll get up to. Round two was bound to be wilder than the first.
#eddie munson#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson smut#joseph quinn#joseph quinn x reader#joseph quinn smut#stranger things x reader#stranger things smut#stranger things fic#female reader#camboy!eddie#camboy!eddie munson#soft!dom eddie
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How Male WUWA Character's React When They Smell Another Man's Perfume/Cologne On You! (NSFW)
characters: scar, jiyan, mortefi, calcharo, aalto, yuanwu, geshu lin x reader
warnings: 18+, smut, fem x male, prank, clit play, overstimulation, ideas of cheating, penetration (piv), tied up, mating press, punishment, passing out, hurting their feelings, dick riding, oral (m! receiving), spanking, wall fucking, use of toys, anal, biting, hickeys, throat fucking, clips on nipples and clit, apologies from the men
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SCAR:
You'd regret playing a prank on him immediately. Scar has a very sharp nose so when you come back home smelling like another man he doesn't say anything for a bit, he just stares at you waiting for an explanation.
Though the explanation had to wait until it was midnight and you were on your bed, wrists tied with a belt on the headboard and a vibrator pressed onto your clit, no foreplay whatsoever as he sits in front of you, fingers holding the vibrator with his legs crossed and another hand holding his head up, his eyes burning into yours. He hasn't smiled once ever since you came back.
When he finally asks you about the smell, you said that you had no idea what he was talking about, which made him more pissed, so he made you cum on the vibrator 4 to 6 times until your juices were dripping all over his fingers and palm.
You could tell despite being overstimulated it wasn't over, cause then he started pulling his pants down, not off, but down enough to reveal his hard cock, he cusses at how he still gets hard to you even though you're a potential cheater.
He'd have his cock punching into your cervix with every thrust, and he has a lot of stamina. At one point you can see the last shred of sanity in his eyes blink away as he pushes your knees onto your shoulders and hovers above you, putting you in a matting press when he keeps fucking you raw.
You'd finally surrender and give up when you started to notice you were gonna pass out real soon, the sun was starting to come up too, so you muster up the last bit of energy you had to tell him without babbling that it was a prank before completely shutting down.
The last thing you'd see is Scar's angry face turning to a shocked face before you passed out.
When you wake up in the afternoon, your wrists were no longer tied, the between of your legs are clean with none of yours or his juices left, you had a white oversized shirt on, and you can smell something delicious outside.
Scar would have came in a few minutes later with a big sheepish smile, wearing an apron and holding a plate of food for lunch as he apologizes to you.
"Damn. Sorry babe, I didn't know you had it in you to make a prank this good. I'll make it up to you, 'kay?"
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JIYAN:
He'd be incredibly disappointed that he doesn't smell your usual scent immediately, so he asks you why did you come home smelling like a another man. He would try to be very understanding with you but his patience is replaced with hurt when you tell him that you don't smell anything different about yourself.
He would come to the conclusion that you were cheating on him. You'd keep pretending like you had no idea what he was so silent about. When you initiated you two have sex like always he would comply, but compared to his usual sweet and gentle behavior, its replaced with something more meaner.
First he would tell you he wanted you to suck his dick off. He wasn't asking you like how he usually would, he was ordering you to do it, and you knowing what you did, you listened to him and did it without any questions.
He'd say "this felt better before today" and fuck his cock into your throat to make you swallow every last bit of his cum, even though usually he would cum outside of your mouth unless you asked for it inside.
You would have to be on top of him and thrusting his dick inside you instead of him just straight up pounding you until you were satisfied like always, and when you finally came, he would force you to keep going, if you didn't, he'd smack your ass until your cheeks went red.
This would go on until your legs were shaking, his slaps were very powerful, so everytime you bounce on his cock you'd falter when your sensitive red cheeks touch his thighs and you'd accidentally have his cock piercing to your cervix.
When he sees your movements getting weak, he stares at you with hooded eyes and furrowed eyebrows, sitting up from the bed to carry you and press your back against the wall, then fucking you so hard and deep you couldn't even let out a noise.
Your eyes would be rolling to the back of your head, and your mouth would be hung open with no sign of shutting. Your body would be twitching uncontrollably from all the crazy thrusts Jiyan is forcing you to take.
When he made you cum 3 times on the wall before putting you back onto the bed and fucking you again in doggy style, you had to force yourself to confess that you were just pranking him, to which all his movements would stop and he'd pick you up to make you face his shocked face.
While your pussy was still twitching and gaping from the shape you had to take for the past 5 hours, Jiyan eventually apologizes as he caresses your back while your head is laying lifelessly on his shoulder.
"Of course this was a prank... I'm so stupid, would you forgive me for acting so harshly?"
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MORTEFI:
He'd ignore the smell at first. You'd know that he isn't the type to jump into conclusions so you had to tell him about your day, how happy you were to have made a new friend and how he was super nice to you, making sure you didn't leave out on how touchy that new friend of yours was.
The longer you kept going the more he counted on the times he'd have to make you cum in bed, to which, you seemed to have exceeded over 10 times now.
When it was time to sleep, he'd have you thinking that he wouldn't do anything to you, so you believed his little act and slept for the night, only to wake up in the middle of the night with your hands tied to your back, face smooshed against your pillow with your mouth covered with a cloth and a vibrating dildo deep into your pussy, including an anal plug inside you all at once.
He'd have you squirming as much as you can but eventually you'd stop squirming just to twitch and shake because you'd cum shortly after. When you're at your 5th orgasm that's when he removes the anal plug inside you to shove his cock in.
For the entire night he wouldn't let you make a single noise, constantly smacking your ass and using your hole for his own pleasure, when he finally felt like he was finished that's when he removes the cloth on your mouth to let you speak, and that's when you tell him that it was a prank.
He'd feel incredibly embarassed and sorry that he treated you so roughly, you better expect top tier treatment from him for the rest of the week, but don't forget, this all wouldn't have happened if you hadn't played that stupid prank on him.
"You drive me insane sometimes, you know that?"
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CALCHARO:
NEVER underestimate this man's nose, he could smell your scent from a mile away. So when he smells someone else coming inside his house he's very alarmed, even more alarmed when he finds out that it was you this whole time.
He wouldn't even say a simple hi or even ask what the smell was, he would just grab you without letting you settle down and throw you onto the bed. He never lets you take even a moment to say anything to him as he's ripping, and I mean literally, ripping your clothes off your body.
Calcharo would order you to not move an inch while you're naked on the bed, before he leans in to your neck and sniffs you again. The smell would still be there and that made him want to bite you, so that's what he does, he bites on you all over and leaves marks in every single part of your body.
He's very mad, but he has to confirm if that part of yours has been used yet or not. So he pulls down his pants and he jerks off at your naked body in front of him. If you confessed that you had cheated on him the very least he wanted to do was to make it known that you had always belonged to him before letting yourself get fucked by another man.
Once his cum was all over your face, he uses his hand to wipe some cum onto him and palm your pussy, he may be mad but he's not mean enough to penetrate you without prep. Once your pussy was pooling with your juices that's when he breaks into your hole with his cock, in one harsh movement too, at the same moment he put his cock in he's already thrusting gigantic movements into you.
He'd have you crying and screaming by how fast and powerful his thrusts were. His hands holding onto the back of your knees as he uses your hole like a toy, you felt both pain and pleasure all at once, and he's already made you cum more than 5 times, switching to your ass and mouth from time to time making it more than 5 times since he came. And all your holes were being violated.
Everything had to end when you started to feel lightheaded, even though you had begged him to stop just so you could breathe, he never did stop, and it was really hard for you to tell him that it was all a prank.
So what you did was grab him by the hair as roughly as you can and yank it to your face, choking out the words "It's a prank" before you pass out completely, when you finally woke up, you see Calcharo sitting next to you with his hands on his head, feeling sorry for using you like a doll.
"Don't ever do that again, I don't want to hurt you over something like this ever. Idiot."
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AALTO:
He looks at you and says "Nuh uh, we are not doing this" when he smells another man on you. To which you act oblivious and shrug at his questions, but he's clearly not taking your shit.
For a bit, he analyzes the way you moved around the house, especially when you were on your phone texting to god know's who while giggling, when you do that, that's what makes him lose his patience.
He doesn't even bother checking who you were texting and throws your phone across the room. When you yell at him for throwing away something so fragile he just grabs your wrist and twists it to your back, now your ass was right at where his crotch was and your arm was in an uncomfortable position.
Aalto doesn't plan on keeping you on that position forever, so he grabs both your arms behind your back and presses your back against his chest while holding you.
He'd tease you while asking you questions, his hand would slip inside your pants and play with your clit. He's trying his best to remain calm with you since he knows that if he lets his mind win he would leave you so broken with his cum oozing out of you, so he edges you. 10 minutes turning to 30, 30 minutes turning to an hour, and an hour turning to 2 hours, and he's still teasing your clit.
He doesn't even bother removing your pants or underwear for you, he is literally making you soak your underwear and pants like it's been at the washing machine, no matter how much you beg him for release he wont give it to you until you tell him what actually happened and if you really did cheated on him.
And ding! Aalto wins, you can't bear to not get your release, so you admit to him that you were just pranking him. He'll smile at you and give you a kiss on the forehead before pulling down your pants, revealing a pool of your juices. There was so much juices that you two could fuck hours and hours on end.
He rewards your honesty by shoving his cock inside you and fucking you until you got as many orgasms as you wanted while planting you kisses all over. Smiling at you as you get your 3rd orgasm from his cock.
"I knew you'd never cheat on me, this is why you should leave the pranks to me instead"
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YUANWU:
He doesn't jump into conclusions, instead, he lets you settle down and rest before he asks you if you were using another perfume, and when you say no, that's when he asks if you were out with someone. When your response is "Oh, how did you know?", he'd simply ask you who you had been out with, but you didn't want to answer him. Hearing you respond like that shifts something in him a bit.
Next thing you know he has you bend over his lap, ass sticking out on one side while your face stuffed on the bed in the other, he smacks his hand on your ass in one moment before he fingers your wet pussy until you feel like your close, only to stop again just to smack your ass.
He keeps doing this until he hears an answer from you, but you were quite stubborn, and that was fine. Yuanwu knows exactly how to deal with you, so he keeps going. Everytime you try to push your hips back into his fingers he just spanks your ass, leaving it red all over.
When you finally gave up on begging him to stop and told him that you were just pranking him, he immediately has you sit on his lap while he rubs your asscheeks in a way to comfort the stinging pain he created, head on yours as he smiles at you, it seemed he knew that it was a prank, he just didn't like that you withheld information from him.
Before he lets you go, he rewards you by letting you cum on his fingers while kissing him to muffle your cries, at the same time caressing your red ass cheeks leaving you feel incredibly spoiled. His actions making you never want to lie to him ever again.
He gives you one last tiny smack on your pussy as a little punishment for the silly prank you played on him with a smile.
"You're so cute when you try to act sly, princess. But I hope this makes you realize it will never work on me"
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GESHU LIN:
Disappointed, angry and betrayed. He is definitely not letting you go until you explain yourself. He'd have you kneeling while he makes you suck his cock, having a vibrator not inside your pussy, but in your ass. He makes you swallow his cum for around 3 times, making your stomach full and your throat throb when he finally frees his cock from you.
He'll ask you why you smelled like a man, but a little throat fucking and anal won't make you confess so easily, so he plays your game, and goes completely insane.
He's leaving marks all over your body while punching your cervix with his cock behind you, never giving you a single moment to breathe, your nipples were being pinched by the clips he used on you, the clips having chains that connect on your clit, sometimes he would tug it making you scream in pain before he hits your spot to replace your scream with a delicious moan.
When using the clips on your nipples felt a little boring to him, he would move to the clip that was on your clit and make the clip shake with every rhythm in his thrust, all while the vibrator was still in your ass, having so many sensations at once makes you drool as tears roll down your cheeks.
You'd hear him cuss at you and call you a slut, asking if the man you were with could fuck you the same way he does. That's when you remember why you were getting roughly fucked for, so you immediately confessed that you never met any man at all.
You'd think he would stop, but no, he keeps going until he was satisfied. He's happy that you confessed to never meeting any other man but him, but that doesn't mean he won't punish you for playing such a dirty prank on him.
He'd unclip the clip on your clit before using his wet fingers that he used on his mouth to force an orgasm out of you so that you would cum at the same time as him, and when you finally do, you'd fall onto the bed passed out, while Geshu Lin is panting and wiping the sweat off his chin.
"This will remind you to never play such games with me ever again"
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A/N: NEW CHARACTER UNLOCKED FOR SMUT! SCAR AND GESHU LIN!! I was gonna add male rover but i ain't even gonna lie guys, im so tired I HAVENT EVEN LOGGED INTO WUWA TODAY IM CRYING
please enjoy this crumb i left for you all hungry beasts as i go farm convenes for Jiyan, HE HAS TO COME HOME!!!!!
#wuthering waves#wuthering waves smut#jiyan smut#scar smut#mortefi smut#calcharo smut#yuanwu smut#aalto smut#geshu lin smut#wuwa scar#wuwa yuanwu#wuwa jiyan#wuwa mortefi#wuwa geshu lin#wuwa aalto#wuwa calcharo#wuwa smut#wuwa x reader#wuwa#noveauskull#wuthering waves calcharo#wuthering waves jiyan#jiyan#calcharo#wuthering waves mortefi#mortefi#geshu lin#wuthering waves geshu lin#wuthering waves scar#wuthering waves yuanwu
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bro doesn't even play video games for fun he does it for fucking research motherfucker's a speedrun-aholic but like, with literally zero actual interest in it because he thinks they're a waste of time -- hence why his tendency to obliterate them time and coding wise
because if there's something that comes with the self awareness that you're living in a video game is that you can probably break if not bend the rules ( re: rule of cool superseding logic, leading to him cutting a literal meteor in half )
#🧢#'how come bro moves so fast' he is actively clipping through the walls by vibrating lil cal at the right angle
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Chasing Cars | ch 1 (jjk)
☆summary: when your brother goes to study on a semester abroad, your life collides with his best friend Jeon Jungkook, who's coincidentally your roommate. Will you survive the collision, or will you crumble into dust?
☆pairings: brother's best friend!Jungkook x younger sister!female reader, Hoseok x female!reader
☆rating: 18+ (minors DNI, this chapter contains mature content)
☆genre: forbidden love?au, college!au, slice of life!au, smut, angst (as usual a lot of it), fluff
☆warnings: alcohol, curses, jungkook is lowkey a cocky asshole but we love him, mentions of ghosting (reader to Hoseok), mentions of frosh week, mentions of Nabi spraining her ankle, a frat party, beer pong, Sam Hwang, peach, explicit content: overhearing someone having sex, female masturbation, sex toy (vibrator), praising, nipple play, hickeys, dom!Hoseok, sub!reader, degradation, Hoseok likes being called sir (lmao), whip (sorta, with a belt), choking (with a belt), safe word, oral sex (male receiving), mouth fucking, balls fondling, jerking off, spitting in the other's mouth, Hoseok does not believe in aftercare (rip)
☆word count: 11.8k
☆a/n: CHAPTER ONE!! LET'S GET THIS JOURNEY STARTED BABY!!! thank you to @moonleeai and @jessikahathaway for beta-ing, you guys are the best <3
☆series masterpost
☆add yourself to the taglist here!
☆☆☆☆☆
If I lay here If I just lay here Would you lie with me and just forget the world?
Chasing Cars, Snow Patrol
☆☆☆☆☆
Thursday, January 17th
If there is one thing you’ve figured about Jeon Jungkook, it’s that he is an insufferable prick, yet an endearing one. As your older brother’s best friend, Jungkook has taken a liking to teasing you, treating you like his own little sister. It was weird at first – the day you met him, you were struck by his looks. Who wouldn’t be? Jungkook is tall, has a sleeve of tattoos, and he rocks an eyebrow and two lip piercings.
It took you all but three days to realize that he is a too full of himself asshole. And had you known what you were signing up for when Taehyung suggested that you move in with him when his friend Jimin moved out to live with his girlfriend, maybe you wouldn’t have accepted.
You love Taehyung. He’s an incredible brother, has always taken care of you when you were younger and your mother was never home to do so. You love him enough that you didn’t mind moving in with him even though there was a third party you didn’t know.
Jungkook, that is.
It’s been months now. Months of living with Jungkook, of waking up to his insufferable smirk and even worse teasing, whenever Taehyung is not around. Because, of course, when your brother is here Jungkook is an angel, never once saying anything to you that could be taken the wrong way.
Thing is, Taehyung has always dreamed of studying abroad, in Paris. Has always wished to experience the French lifestyle, to wake up to eat croissants and gaze at the Eiffel Tower in the distance. So when he got the opportunity to do his winter semester over there, of course he jumped on the chance.
You’ve been living alone in the same apartment as Jeon Jungkook for less than a month and you already wish May to be at your door and for Taehyung to come back.
It’s late. Sometime close to two am, and the bed creaking in the room next to yours, the one banging into the wall, has been keeping you up.
Or maybe the intermittent high-pitched clipped moans are what are keeping you up. Because, mind you, the walls of your apartment are paper-thin. So paper-thin sometimes you think you’re in Jungkook’s room while he’s ramming some girl he probably doesn’t even know the name of. Sometimes, you think you can almost picture him. Almost see the muscles of his back move under his skin as he jack-hammers into yet another girl, almost see his powerful thighs slap on hers each time he pushes in, almost see his fucked-out face when he comes with that loud grunt of his…
You miss Taehyung being around because Jungkook wasn’t as loud then. Still brought girls home every Thursday like clockwork, but made sure he wasn’t loud enough for the whole building to hear him. With Taehyung gone, Jungkook has stopped caring, and you have been suffering the consequences since then.
In truth, it hasn’t been that long. Less than three weeks, and you’ve heard Jungkook fuck like four times? You reckon it could be a lot worse… but he could also be respectful and not fuck people when you’re trying to sleep because you have a nine am class the next day.
The first time it happened, you were mortified. You listened to music, hoping you wouldn’t hear it anymore but, the thing is, his headboard bangs against the same wall your headboard is against. So you still felt it, and you suffered through the whole ordeal hoping you would disappear through the floor.
The second time it happened, you were annoyed. You considered knocking against the wall to tell him to shut the fuck up – or rather to tell the girl to shut the fuck up – but you resisted. Solely because you didn’t want to stir shit with Jungkook. You considered asking Taehyung to tell Jungkook to be more respectful, but it sounded childish and stupid so you eventually let it slide.
The third time it happened, you were… aroused. Maybe because it had been a long time since you had sex – the last time being in late November with Hoseok, a guy studying in the same major as you, though he’s Jungkook and Taehyung’s age. Yet, even though you felt aroused, you focused on all the ways you were going to murder Jungkook the next day.
Today… today the arousal is winning the game. It’s been making your heart run wild, and your grip on your sheets has your knuckles turning white, skin stretched taut over how hard you’re clenching your fists.
And when you hear Jungkook say something that definitely sounds like “Good fucking girl”, you lose it. You’re too aroused, dripping from just hearing him, and you need to have the coil inside of you snap if you want to be able to sleep tonight.
With all the sounds emerging from his room, you doubt Jungkook is going to hear you. So you shamelessly rummage through the top drawer of your night table, searching for your vibrator, smiling in victory when your hand closes around it.
You’re wearing PJ shorts, and you quickly rid yourself of them as the girl lets out a short-clipped moan that makes you think you’re listening to porn, and not to your roommate fucking.
Though you reckon sex with Jungkook really does sound like porn.
You lie back in bed once you’re rid of your shorts, taking a hold of your vibrator. You turn it on, adjusting it to your favourite setting. You feel strange doing so, like you’re doing something you really shouldn’t be doing, but you can’t help it.
The second you press the vibrator on your clit, you forget all about how what you’re doing is wrong. All you can focus on is the pleasure that radiates through your body, and your eyes close tightly, images of Jungkook swirling in your brain.
When the girl moans again, and Jungkook tells her that she’s ‘taking it so well’, your free hand shoots to your breast, pinching your nipple through the fabric of your t-shirt. It’s not enough, and you’re quick to move it under the shirt. You pinch hard, and you let out a breathy sound as your thighs instinctively close on your wrist.
Jungkook’s headboard starts banging against the wall even more, and your brain produces an image of Jungkook between your legs, fucking you until all you can think is his name. It has you pushing your vibrator inside of you, and you lightly moan again at the pleasurable intrusion.
You let go of your nipple, moving that hand to your clit instead, and your fingers expertly start drawing circles on it. You listen to Jungkook’s grunts all along, to the girl’s moans, and maybe you’re a little too blissed out to realize they’re done, but when you reach your high you can’t help the broken moan you let out, a little too loud for the paper-thin walls of your apartment.
As you’re coming down from your high, you realize the apartment is eerily silent, and you swallow the lump of awkwardness that’s formed in your throat. You wipe your vibrator with some tissue, knowing you’ll have to actually clean it on the morrow, but you don’t want to kill the silence of the night just so you can put your vibrator back in its hiding spot right away.
But you’re not stupid, and you know you need a trip to the bathroom anyway. You put your PJ shorts back on, grab your phone to use it as a flashlight so you don’t bump into a wall on the way to the bathroom, and you tiptoe all the way over there, hoping to be as soundless as possible.
You have to walk in front of Jungkook’s room to get to the bathroom, and then halfway across the living room. You notice his door is closed on your way, and you peacefully make it all the way to the bathroom. You quickly pee and clean yourself up, washing your hands before you open the door.
Which, you reckon might have been your demise. Because when you open the door of the bathroom, it’s to let out a high-pitched startled yelp at the sight of a shirtless Jungkook on the other side. The sound of the faucet must have hidden his footsteps.
You stare at each other for a few seconds, and in the dim light, you’re pretty sure Jungkook is smirking.
“Couldn’t sleep?” he asks after the silence has started to stretch into awkwardness.
You clench your jaw, gaze dropping to the ground. “You were disturbing my sleep.”
He chuckles, cocking his head to the side. “Was I now?”
Your eyes shoot back to his face at the low huskiness of his tone, and you wish with all of your heart that you had the courage to punch him in the face. But you don’t, so all you reply is, “You need to start fucking your hookups somewhere else.”
His smirk falls into a pout. “I won’t go over to the girls’ places. But I can make sure they’re more silent next time.”
Your brain can’t help but wonder if he means ‘they’ as in he was fucking two girls or just they as in generally referring to a single person.
You obstinately remain silent for a moment, holding his gaze with surprising defiance. “Please do,” you finally choose to say, and the smirk makes its way back to his features.
“I promise,” he says, voice low once again, and you hate how it has something tightening inside of you once more.
You hate it so much that you escape, wishing him good night as you walk around him. You feel the warmth of his body on the way, and you’re thinking about ways to stab him in the back when he says, “Sleep well, peach.”
Saturday, January 19th
You’ve taken to referring to last Wednesday night, or early Thursday morning, as The Incident. At least that’s what you call it when you talk about it with your friends, Ria and Nabi. Ria, who’s always had some sort of a crush on Jungkook is absolutely flabbergasted each time it’s mentioned, and Nabi thinks he’s proven that he’s the biggest asshole in college.
You relate to both, and mostly agree with Nabi.
You’re supposed to go to some party later tonight. Ria convinced you to pre-drink at the girls’ dorm before you go, considering it’s closer to the party than your apartment, and the three of you are sitting in a circle on the floor, with music playing in the background. Needless to say, Nabi has been complaining ever since you got there, because she doesn’t usually do parties, and Ria is so excited she’s got you convinced that tonight will be the best night of your life.
Almost.
“Shots?” Ria asks as if you haven’t already taken two shots each.
She’s holding the bottle of tequila up, a red flush to her cheeks and mischief lighting her gaze. You don’t find it in you to say no, because you know that without the tequila Nabi is never going to make it to the party.
“Let’s do this,” you say, offering her a smirk as Nabi hides her face in her hands.
“You girls are going to kill me,” she complains.
“Come on,” Ria says, playfully pushing her on the shoulder. “Maybe that cute guy you like is going to be there!”
Nabi has had a crush on someone from your major, Kim Namjoon, ever since you met her at the beginning of Frosh week last semester. He’s a tall guy, with dimples whenever he smiles, and you can see why she’d have a crush on him. Thing is, Namjoon has been dating someone ever since then, and Nabi has just been suffering in silence.
You still remember the moment you saw the crush bubble to life. It was day three of Frosh Week, and Namjoon was in charge of your team, along with Hoseok. You, Nabi, and three other first years were winning the relay race, figuring out the puzzles so quickly you had a good advance on the other teams. In a leap of happiness, Nabi jumped over a small stone wall on campus. One of her feet got tangled, and she ended up spraining her ankle.
Namjoon had been right by her side, asking her if she was okay. And Nabi has been in love with him ever since that day, though she’d never dare say it aloud.
“I don’t like anyone,” she grumbles, but the way her cheeks flush red is telling.
“Namjoon, Namjoon, Namjoon,” you singsong, offering her a shit eating grin.
She retaliates by saying, “When’s the last time you’ve fucked Hobi? Didn’t you say he was the best lay of your life?”
Your mouth falls open in surprise, and Ria lets out a loud laugh.
“We stopped fucking in November, you know that!” you burst, feeling yourself turning crimson. “And it’s not like I have a crush on him, I stopped because it felt like he had a crush on me.”
Nabi has a winning smile on her lips. “And what’s so bad about that?”
“I mean…” you trail off, shrugging your shoulders. “The sex was good, but I didn’t feel like dating him. Simple as that.”
“Why not?” Ria asks, tequila forgotten. “You never told us.” She adds a pout to her sentence, trying to get you to explain.
There’s no explanation. You just didn’t feel like it. You tell them as much, but Nabi doesn’t buy it. Ria, on the other hand, lets out a sound that has both you and Nabi startling.
“I know why!” she explains.
You cock an eyebrow. “Why?”
“You live with fucking Jeon Jungkook, of course you don’t want to date Hobi. Especially after The Incident.”
You laugh, as it’s just as ridiculous as you expected it to be. “Not at all. Jungkook is Tae’s best friend.”
Both your friends look at you, as if what you said was the stupidest shit they ever heard.
“What?”
“What does it change?” Nabi asks with a small voice.
“Well,” you let out, because you don’t really know. It’s just weird to you, and you don’t know how to explain it. “For one, I’m pretty sure Tae would kill him if he ever laid a finger on me.”
“Tae is in Paris,” Ria innocently says.
“Irrelevant,” you say, chuckling. “He’s going to be back in just a few months.”
“A lot can happen in a few months,” she adds, wiggling her brows suggestively.
You roll your eyes before reaching out between the two of you. “Give me the tequila.”
“I’ll fuck him if you don’t,” she teases, and she cradles the tequila to her chest. “As a matter of fact, maybe I’ll try to fuck him tonight.”
“Have fun!” is all you answer before making grabby hands at her. “Now, give me the alcohol, let’s get plastered before we get there so we don’t have to drink the crappy frat booze.”
*****
The frat house hosting the party is wild. Has always been – you’ve always found they go too far with most of their parties. But they also host the most memorable parties, and you know tonight will be a blast the moment you set in to see the strung LED light, shining different patterns of colours around the main room. A table in the corner is stacked high with every bottle of hard alcohol imaginable, and there are three coolers you assume are holding beer or something of the sorts.
One of the guys – Dave? – shows you three where you can leave your coats, on a bed in the upstairs bedroom, and then he walks you to the alcohol table, offering to pour you some shots.
Nabi giggles, because by the time you left their dorm, she got quite drunk, claiming she needed it if she were to run into Namjoon after what you and Ria had said. She accepts the shot she’s handed, though half of it has spilled on her hand by the time the guy gives you yours. He puts salt on your hands, carefully, as Ria makes fun of Nabi, and you look around, scanning the crowd. You recognize a few people from your class, along with the usual party crowd of your college. You smile at two guys you’ve spoken to before at least once, before resuming your attention on Dave (?) as he hands you a slice of lemon.
When the four of you are ready, you lick the salt, knock back the shot, and then bite in the lemon to chase the taste of tequila away. It’s cheap tequila, and even with lemon the taste lingers while you prepare vodka cranberries for you and your friends. And though Ria loves dancing, you and Nabi win as you choose to head to the kitchen, where you know the music isn’t usually as loud.
The first thing you notice when you enter the kitchen is the beer pong table in the middle. Jeon Jungkook is currently playing, along with Jimin, another of your brother’s friends. As he sees you, Jimin raises his glass, offering you a wide grin, and then he punches Jungkook in his side before motioning to you.
Jungkook notices you then, and he offers you a smirk as he eyes you up and down. You feel shy for half a beat, though you know you look good. You’re wearing a green corset along with a pair of black leather pants, and you know the two pieces of clothing hug your body perfectly. Plus, Ria did your makeup, and Ria never fails when it comes to makeup. So you wait as Jungkook looks at you, hoping the foundation Ria put on your face is thick enough for him not to see you blush as The Incident inevitably comes back to your mind.
You look away, and then you see Hoseok hovering by glass sliding doors, along with Namjoon and their other friend Yoongi. Hoseok is busy with a conversation, and when he bursts out laughing you can hear it clear as day.
Why didn’t you want to date him? You don’t know. You actually really don’t know, because he ticks off all the boxes. But something was missing, you presume, and sometimes you hate yourself for it.
He must have sensed your attention, and he turns his head towards you. You don’t miss the way his smile falls a little, and he nods once in recognition. When you smile, his mouth closes to offer you one of those awkward tight-lipped smiles, and your gaze drops away to the cup in your hand.
Of course, Ria has a nefarious plan in mind, because she hooks her arm with yours and Nabi’s, pulling you towards the trio of guys. You’re fully aware that it’s mostly for Nabi, and that it’s stupid because last you’ve heard, Namjoon is still dating his girlfriend, but you let your friend pull you towards the men, gaze still stubbornly hiding in your cup.
You watch the liquid slosh around as you stop in front of them, and Namjoon greets you. Hoseok falls eerily silent, and Yoongi asks you all how you’ve been doing.
You only join in the conversation when you’ve taken a long sip from your cup to ease your nerves. Not that it really helped, but you reckon just standing there in silence would probably make things more awkward than anything else.
“Nabi is pretty drunk,” Ria is saying when you finally look up from the cup.
“Am not!” Nabi insists, voice slurred. “Or maybe just a little.”
Namjoon laughs, while Yoongi chuckles. “As long as you don’t fall and sprain your ankle again, I think you’re alright.”
“Won’t fall again,” Nabi promises. “Not with these two with me.” She says that motioning to you and Ria, and it somehow brings Namjoon’s attention to you.
“I saw your essay on the synthesis and control of energy metabolism,” he tells you, a dimpled smile on display. “It was pretty good.”
You can’t help but slide your eyes to Nabi, who wrote a far better essay on human health and bacteriophage in your opinion, and you don’t miss the way her gaze drops to the ground.
“Thanks,” you reply to Namjoon nonetheless.
He’s started TA-ing to help out Seokjin, one of the biochemistry grad students. All of you are biology students, except Ria and Yoongi. Ria is in administration, and Yoongi studies music, his concentration being piano and producing.
There’s an awkward silence, and you glance towards Hoseok, feeling the weight of his gaze on you. He’s good-looking, even though he’s simply dressed in a T-shirt with some graphics on the front and a pair of discoloured jeans. Knowing him, he probably has a crazy jacket upstairs, because you know he’s good when it comes to fashion.
It’s what attracted you to him in the first place.
“How are you?” you ask him, and you notice Yoongi’s pointed gaze on you. It’s disapproving, you think, but the question left your mouth without you even wanting it to.
“I’ve been great,” Hoseok replies, though it’s a little colder than what you know him to be.
You nod, gaze dropping to the ground as Ria strikes a conversation with the three others, clearly trying to give you and Hoseok some space. It has the two of you just standing in aimless silence, until the sound of whooping behind you attracts your gaze to the beer pong table, where Jimin and Jungkook are celebrating a win. “I’m…” you trail off as you turn back to look at him. “I’m glad. How are your classes?”
He sighs. “They’re harder than first-year classes.”
You don’t miss the ghost of a teasing glint in his eyes, and you immediately latch onto it. “Oh, please, you struggled in molecular biology. I got A+ in the class.”
He chuckles, and you physically relax. Because you haven’t really talked since you ended things in November, finals coming in the way of partying and other events where you would run into him. So you didn’t know before today where you stood with him, and you’re relieved that he doesn’t seem like he’s holding a grudge.
“You weren’t in Lester’s class,” he points out. “Even Namjoon almost failed Lester’s class.”
You gasp in fake outrage. “No way! And now he’s the biochem TA.”
“I know,” Hoseok says, slightly shaking his head. “Unbelievable.”
The renewed complicity between the two of you is easy, you realize, and when he suggests playing a game of beer pong, you immediately agree. Or maybe you only agree because you don’t know where Nabi, Ria, Yoongi and Namjoon went, only that they aren’t next to you anymore.
Jungkook and Jimin are still undefeated at the table, and when Jungkook catches sight of you moving closer, he winks before shooting.
You’re not surprised when the ball goes right in a cup, leaving only one on the table. Jimin laughs as their opponents claim Jungkook cheated, and Jungkook shrugs his shoulders.
“You should know better than to call me a cheater, bro,” Jungkook says, and he runs a hand in his hair.
An infuriating small strand falls in his big doe eyes, but he seemingly doesn’t care. He glances at you once again, eyes trailing between you and Hoseok.
“Enjoying yourself?” he asks when his gaze settles back on you.
You don’t miss the way his eyes dip to your cleavage before moving back to your face.
“I’m here to beat your ass,” you reply, and you offer him a shit-eating grin.
He laughs, and he sets his attention on Hoseok. “I hope you’re good, bro, because she’s just declared war.” And then he looks at you, smirking that insufferable smirk once more. His doe eyes narrow threateningly, and you find yourself wishing you had never heard him fuck before.
Because all your brain can picture right now is how you came to the sound of his grunts a couple of days ago.
“What?” you can’t help but say, though he looks away from you as the two other guys shoot, completely missing the three cups left in front of Jimin and Jungkook.
You notice Jimin looking at you with an eyebrow cocked, and the smile on his lips means nothing good. You furrow your brows, because you know how much of a gossip he is, but thankfully enough for you, he has to throw.
You watch as he does so, landing it right in the last cup. Jungkook of course throws right in the cup too, claiming the victory for them as the two other guys grumble and leave the table, leaving the place free for you and Hoseok.
You meet Hoseok’s gaze, offering him a small smirk. “I hope you’re ready to get fucked.”
You only realize how crude your words sounded, especially considering your history with him, when he starts laughing, that contagious laugh you’ve always found cute.
“I mean, I’m a pretty good shot,” he says once you’ve calmed down. “Are you?”
You wince. “Once in a while I’m good,” you answer truthfully. “Most of the time I suck.”
“Well hopefully you’ll be good tonight,” he teases, gently nudging you with his elbow.
You offer him a determined nod, before turning to face Jungkook and Jimin. You quickly put the solo cups back in position, as Jungkook watches you with a half-smile on his lips. You don’t know what to make of it, so you ignore him.
A small, tiny, minuscule voice at the back of your head tells you he probably knows about The Incident, but you ignore it entirely like you’ve been doing for the past few days.
Turns out Hoseok really is a good shot. He lands all of his shots, but of course, it has to be the day you suck. You don’t land any, up until the redemption that brings you back into the game when Jungkook and Jimin are about to win.
It makes you scream in happiness, and you throw your arms around Hoseok’s neck, right as his hands lay flat on your waist. He pulls you close, laughing in your ear until you let go, and you have the decency to feel bad.
You’re pretty sure you broke his heart in November, and you’re pretty sure you’ll only end up breaking it again. But there’s just something in the way Jungkook is staring from the other side of the table, smile gone, that makes you want to cling to Hoseok. So you do, and when he stands behind you to help you with your next shot, you let him put one hand on your hip.
Your gaze meets Jungkook’s, and you watch as his eyes dip to the fingers on your hip. He cocks his head to the side, wets his lips, and then an infuriating smirk lights up his features dangerously until you feel like you need to look away or else you’ll combust. So you glance at Jimin, who is just smiling prettily because when is he not, and then you focus on the lone solo cup you have to aim for.
“What you want to do,” Hoseok says, leaning so he can speak in your ear. You’re infinitely aware of how his pelvis brushes your ass, and your breath catches in your throat. He continues, “is to throw in a parabola. That way you won’t hit the rim of the cup”. He grabs your wrist, lifting your hand. “From this height, it should work.”
You nod, because you don’t think you can answer, especially not as you can hear Jungkook snickering from where he’s standing. Instead, you really focus on the cup, and when you’re about to throw, Jungkook speaks up.
“Put it in, baby.”
Your brain short-circuits, and it’s no wonder you miss by a good, few inches. Jimin is a giggly mess next to Jungkook, Hoseok can’t resist his laugh, and all you can do is glare at Jungkook’s satisfied smile.
“What the fuck?” you let out.
He winks at you. “Gotta learn to not get distracted, peach.”
You hate the nickname. He knows that you do, and it’s the reason why he’s been using it for months now. Ever since one late night where you played Mario Kart together with Taehyung and Jimin, and you kept choosing Princess Peach as your character. When you went in the kitchen to grab a drink, Jungkook followed you and teased you about it, and now the nickname has stuck.
Though evidently never in front of Taehyung.
You wish you had a snarky retort in you, but all you can do is think about The Incident, and pray he can’t tell that your cheeks are burning up because of him and not because of the alcohol.
You end up losing the beer pong game, and you cringe internally as you watch Hoseok dapping Jungkook and Jimin up. You begrudgingly congratulate them, as Jungkook teases you for the loss.
“Would have thought your brother taught you better than this,” he says, nudging you with his elbow.
You roll your eyes, glancing at Hoseok, but he’s striking a conversation with Jimin.
“Tae and I didn’t spend all that much time together, Jungkook,” you remind him. “You know I just moved in with you guys because you needed someone after Jimin left.”
Jungkook shrugs. “You seem pretty close to him.”
He falls silent, pulling at his piercing as you glance at his features. You’ve left your liquid courage somewhere on the table, and you really wish you had it with you right now. Only so you could avoid the sudden wistful look in Jungkook’s haze, though it disappears so quickly you think you might have imagined it.
“He’s really protective of you,” he comments as you too remain silent, not knowing what to say.
You chuckle, because if there is a thing that is true, it’s that your older brother is an overbearing asshole. “That he is,” you agree, and you both laugh.
“Hey, do you want a drink?” Hoseok suddenly asks, and you realize that Jimin has disappeared.
You’re pretty sure Jungkook is eyeing him up and down when you reply, “Please, I need a new drink.”
Hoseok beams, and you make to move towards him when Jungkook grabs your arm to stop you. Your eyes widen, The Incident flashing in your mind, but his tattooed fingers let go of you as you throw him an inquisitive look.
“I’m not drinking tonight,” he admits. “I came with my car, thought I’d offer to drive you home.”
At that, your eyebrows shoot towards your hairline in surprise. “What?”
He shrugs, corner smile back on his pink lips. “As long as you don’t get sick, that is.”
You ponder for a time, because you were supposed to sleep over at Nabi and Ria’s dorm tonight. You reckon heading home would probably be better, especially now that Hoseok has caught your attention again.
Maybe you can give Jungkook a piece of his medicine.
“Ayt,” you tell him, moving closer as a secretive smile moves on your lips, brought up by the evil plan that is just starting to form in your brain. “I’ll find you later?”
Jungkook looks down at you, tongue pushing on the inside of his cheek as he tilts his head to the side. A smirk moves on his lips and he glances at Hoseok before settling his doe eyes back on you.
He looks nothing like a doe when he says, “I’ll be waiting for you.”
And then he’s the one that walks away, and you can’t breathe for a few seconds as Hoseok waits patiently, either unaware of the situation or not caring. Though you know he knows Jungkook is your roommate – he probably just thinks Jungkook is being nice.
You inhale deeply, before turning to look at Hoseok as you let out your breath. “So, drinks?”
He smiles, genuinely, nodding his head as he offers you his hand to take. To your surprise, he pulls you close to him, and the way his gaze looks down on you makes you all too aware that you used to fuck him, and he used to fuck you good.
“What are you drinking tonight?” he asks, head dipping so he can ask the question in your ear.
“What do you want?”
His smile turns a little dangerous, and he looks over your head to the doorway to the living room. “Shall we?”
You laugh, nodding your head enthusiastically, and you let him pull you behind him. He guides you to the drink table in the living room, where he makes you a rum and coke as you scan your surroundings. You spy Ria and Nabi dancing, and you only understand why when you notice that Namjoon is nearby too, with Yoongi who’s just standing to the side, scrolling on his phone as if bored.
You know Hoseok likes to dance. That’s how you first kissed all those months ago, so you don’t hesitate to ask if he wants to join your friends after you’ve both drank a couple of sips from your respective solo cups. He obviously agrees, and you take his hand to guide him to your friends. You’re painfully aware of how Yoongi raises his head when you get closer, eyes dropping to your entwined hands. He furrows his brows disapprovingly, and you wonder if he’ll speak up.
If he’ll speak up and ruin your plan for you.
He doesn’t, instead meeting your gaze as if daring you to do something. It makes you feel bad for a split second until Hoseok lets go of your hand to rest a hand on your hip as he nestles his lean body against your back.
“You know,” he says in your ear, and you look away from Yoongi, refusing to acknowledge his challenge. “I always wondered why you ghosted me.”
You gulp, and you follow his lead as he makes you sway your hips against him. Ria whistles and your eyes widen a little as if to say ‘please not right now’.
“I’m sorry,” you apologize, and it’s true. “I didn’t really mean to ghost you, just got busy and…”
He laughs, and you’re surprised to hear it ring true. “Y/n,” he says. He leans even closer, and his lips brush your ear. It makes goosebumps rise all over your body, right as he continues, “You can say you got scared. I gave you plenty of reasons to be scared.”
Because you had agreed on no feelings, and he still had developed some, hadn’t he?
“I’m still sorry, ghosting you was shitty of me.”
He chuckles, and you’re starting to recognize the man that he is in the bedroom. His voice is low, husky, when he says, “Should I punish you for it?”
The Incident and Jeon Jungkook are thousands of miles from your thoughts when his words settle in, making heat pool at your core.
“You’d still want to do this?” you ask, breathlessly.
He nibbles at your earlobe, and you instinctively tilt your head to the side to give him better access. He kisses under your ear, tongue darting out to taste your skin, and this time Ria fully hollers in front of you.
You glare at her, only to see that she and Nabi are having the time of their life watching you.
“I haven’t been able to forget how good your pussy feels wrapped around my dick,” Hoseok replies after he’s sucked a hickey on your neck. “Trust me, if I can fuck you again, I’ll do it.”
You don’t hesitate when you turn around, resting your forehead against his. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
And you know you would. Especially considering how tense he was when you first talked to him tonight.
“Sweet of you,” he comments, and a smirk grows on his lips. He pulls away from you, taking a sip of rum and coke. “I wasn’t catching feelings for you, if that’s what you were worried about.” He pauses as his face falls fully serious. “You just don’t like when people treat you right.”
You’re insulted. You really are, yet… he isn’t entirely wrong. The minute a guy gets too close, you dip – you blame that on the fact your father abandoned you and Taehyung when you were still kids.
“Is that why Yoongi is glaring at me?” you ask, a little colder than intended.
The message still passes, and Hoseok shrugs his shoulders. “I don’t care what Yoongi thinks. He always thinks he knows me better than I do but, trust, he doesn’t.”
You’re surprised at just how bitter Hoseok’s sentence sounds. You always thought Yoongi and he were best friends. It’s strange to think that maybe they aren’t, or at least maybe they aren’t close enough to be.
“Anyway,” Hoseok adds when you remain silent for a little too long. “If you’re willing to fuck again, I’d be down. I haven’t found another pussy like yours since the last time we fucked.”
Which coincidentally is the last time you had sex with anyone. You’re not surprised Hoseok fucked some other people after you – with his easy charm, you know he can have anyone wrapped around his finger pretty easily.
And if he wants to participate in your evil plan so willingly, who are you to tell him no?
“The night’s barely started,” you point out. “But maybe you can come back to my place later?”
You’ve never invited him over before, because if there’s a thing that scares you more than anything in this world, it’s Taehyung hearing you having sex with some guy. But now that your brother is in Paris, you figure it doesn’t matter.
Plus, if you want Jungkook to get a taste of his own medicine, you have to bring Hoseok home.
“Deal,” Hoseok tells you, and he seals the deed with a searing and unexpected kiss.
You still kiss him back, hungrily, your body remembering just how good Hoseok can make you feel. You just have to make it through a party – with Jungkook driving you home, you know it’s likely you won’t leave until the party is starting to dwindle down.
When you pull away, Hoseok licks his lips once, as if wanting to remember the taste of you, before saying, “I’ll find you at the end of the party”.
You nod, and begrudgingly let him leave when he walks over to where Yoongi is standing, now joined by a baffled Namjoon, who glances between the two of you a couple of times. You ignore him, instead focusing on Ria and Nabi as they drunkenly pull you away, laughing wildly.
“What the fuck was that?” Ria asks in between two sets of laughter as you emerge in the kitchen. “I thought you said you didn’t want him anymore.”
You don’t want to jinx your plan, so all you can think to do is shrug your shoulders nonchalantly. “It just happened.”
In a weird moment of soberness, Nabi says, “Please don’t lead him on. He’s a decent guy”.
You tell your friends what he told you, and they both seem taken aback, yet they don’t question it. After all, the amount of alcohol in your blood is enough to make it so it’s a little hard to think profoundly, and inhibitions have flown out the window before you even got to the party.
After the conversation is over, your two friends insist on playing beer pong, claiming that they need you to encourage them. You recognize Dave at the table – you think that’s his name – and you all cozy up next to him as you ask to be next. You linger behind, mostly because you’ve noticed someone you’ve been avoiding ever since you got to college last semester, and you hope he doesn’t notice you.
Maybe he’s one of the reasons why you’ve been struggling with people treating you right, like Hoseok mentioned. Because Sam was your first love, and he played you immensely.
If he notices you, he doesn’t look like he does, instead keeping his arm tightly wrapped around the girl next to him. You don’t know her, and you wouldn’t even care if you did – you stopped caring about Sam a long time ago. But you’re still a little put off at the sight of him, and when you catch sight of Jungkook and Jimin by the backyard’s sliding door, breathing in some fresh air, you decide to join them.
Which, you reckon, is a very stupid idea. Because they are Taehyung’s friends, not yours, but they feel safer for you than being in the vicinity of Sam Hwang right now.
“Weren’t you sucking face with what’s-his-name just a second ago?” Jimin asks straight away as you stop next to them.
You snort in your cup, taking a long sip from your drink. “Maybe,” you say once you’ve swallowed.
“Tae would have killed him,” Jimin jokes, looking at Jungkook.
You don’t miss the way Jungkook’s gaze is focused on a spot on your neck, and you rub it mindlessly.
“Good thing he’s in Paris,” you point out. “And I can trust you two to not tell him?”
You say it like a question, though you know it’s useless. Jimin is the biggest gossip you know, and you expect Taehyung to be scolding you by the time you wake up tomorrow morning.
Though that attracts Jungkook’s attention to your face, and he meets your gaze with that same infuriating smirk he was sporting earlier.
“Lips sealed,” he says, uselessly because both of you know that Jimin is the real danger.
Before anything else can be said, Jimin points towards the beer pong table. “Didn’t feel like playing with your friends?”
You shrug, taking another sip of rum and coke. “They don’t need me.”
“Pretty sure you’d be a liability anyway,” Jungkook teases.
Jimin and he laughs at your expanse, and you’re stuck glaring at Jungkook, right as The Incident takes the forefront of your thoughts again.
You wish it would stop haunting you. Wish it would leave you alone, because you feel like it was the cataclysm to a series of bad decisions. The first event of a butterfly effect that is threatening to push you over the edge of the cliff.
“I did get the redemption shot,” you point out, and Jungkook playfully nudges you again.
“Doesn’t count, your little boyfriend got all the other shots for you.”
Your gaze widens. “He’s not my boyfriend!” you quickly defend.
Admittedly a tad too quickly.
Jungkook cocks an eyebrow, wetting his lips before playing with his piercing. “Of course not.”
You narrow your eyes at him, though you remain silent because you feel like saying something else would be far too incriminating.
“Leave her alone,” Jimin jokes. “She did her best.” And then his gaze settles on you, and you balk at the mischief burning in his eyes. “Not her fault if her best sucks.”
“Bruh,” you let out, and you all burst out laughing.
After that, the conversation moves on easily, as you ask Jimin about his girlfriend. He starts gushing about the girl – he always does whenever Sera is mentioned. He tells you about her latest publication, and Jungkook looks bored out of his mind by the time something catches his attention, and he walks away from you and Jimin.
You watch him leave, somehow disappointed, but you entertain the conversation with Jimin for longer still. And Jimin is fun to be around, easy to talk to, and you don’t realize but an hour has passed before he glances down at his phone.
“Shit, I gotta go,” he admits. “I told Sera I wouldn’t be home too late.”
Your solo cup has been empty for half of the hour, so you raise it and say, “Go home, I’m going to get a refill.”
He hugs you goodbye, though you both walk together towards the living room. You part ways as you head to the drink table, once again scanning the room in search of your friends. They are nowhere to be seen, so you set on exploring the house after you’ve made another rum and coke for yourself.
You find the stairs, and you head upstairs thinking they might have needed to settle in a calmer environment. Knowing Nabi, it is to be expected, yet you don’t find them anywhere upstairs. There’s a closed door leading to what you think is a bathroom, but you refuse to look in there.
You almost let out a startled yelp as it opens, and Jungkook steps out, pretty lips swollen red as he leads a girl behind him. At the sight of you, he lets go of her hand, and she looks between the two of you curiously. As both of you remain entirely silent, she furrows her brow but then dips, running a hand through her visibly tangled-up hair.
You can easily imagine what she and Jungkook were doing just a moment ago.
“Really?” you tell him.
His tongue pokes his cheek, and he laughs. “You asked me not to fuck at home anymore.”
You purse your lips, actually surprised that he took your word into account.
“Didn’t expect you would respect it.”
He doesn’t fake the offence that paints his features. “I’m not an asshole, peach.”
The nickname is said condescendingly, and you reckon you should feel a little bad. Because you’re still set on bringing Hoseok home tonight, no matter if Jungkook decided not to fuck anyone at home again.
“Sorry,” you apologize, not knowing what else to say.
Silence moves between you, and Jungkook leans against the doorframe, arms folding on his chest. He watches you carefully, as if he’s never really seen you before and, frankly, you wish he’d looked at you like this before.
It’s a treacherous thought, and you push it away as best as you can.
“Jimin went home,” you tell him, feeling the need to fill the silence with something, anything.
Before he can reply, a group of people move upstairs, talking loudly. Jungkook pushes up from the doorframe, walking towards you.
“Do you want to go home too?” he asks when he’s right next to you.
He’s tall. You have to tilt your head back to be able to hold his gaze, and damn you, you’re hypnotized. You don’t want to look away, don’t think that you can.
“You already want to go home?” you answer, wetting your lips, and his eyes drop to your mouth.
He scoffs, as if it’s an inconvenience, before shrugging his shoulders. “I’m not drinking, I don’t see why I’d stay longer.”
Right.
“Why aren’t you drinking anyway?” you ask, genuinely curious.
He smiles, with no hint of that infuriating smirk for once. “Got morning shift at the library tomorrow.”
The fact he works in a library still makes no sense to you. Though he’s claimed it’s because that way, it’s easy to approach all the pretty, intelligent women who don’t go to parties. Easy targets for a fuckboy like him.
“Ah,” you let out. “Well…” you glance at the group of people as they get out of the room where the coats are. When you resume your attention on Jungkook, you’re struck thinking he’s moved even closer. “My friend is supposed to sleep over, can I go find him?”
You say it innocently, and you don’t miss the way Jungkook frowns slightly. “Who?”
You force Hoseok’s name out, mostly because the way Jungkook is looking at you right now is making you want to disappear through the floor.
“Ah, the guy you played beer pong with,” Jungkook comments. “Thought he wasn’t your boyfriend.”
You furrow your brows. “He isn’t.”
A smirk grows on his lips. “Then why are you bringing him home, peach?”
Your own smirk is easy to come to your lips as you reply, “I’ll let you imagine.”
“Your brother wouldn’t approve.”
As he licks at his piercing, you can’t help but look down at his lips. “Good thing you’re not my brother then.”
He doesn’t reply, only looks over your head as you hear the unmistakable laugh of Jeong Hoseok. It makes you take a step back, and you turn to see Hoseok appearing at the top of the stairs. To your surprise, he’s accompanied by Ria, Nabi and Namjoon, but Yoongi is nowhere in sight.
Namjoon is helping Nabi walk, as she’s clearly gotten even drunker since you abandoned them downstairs. You wince at her sight, knowing she’s going to be a nightmare tomorrow.
Ria catches sight of you and Jungkook, and her gaze widens.
“Here you are!” she shrieks. “We were looking for you everywhere.”
You don’t miss the way Hoseok looks you up and down, and you thank your stars for making this so easy. “I was thinking of heading home,” you tell the group, and you glance over your shoulder to confirm it with Jungkook.
He’s got an unreadable expression on his features, one that makes you think you’re going to enjoy your payback way too much.
When you look back to the group, it’s to see Hoseok cocking an eyebrow as if to say ‘Am I still coming?’ You nod, and you take a few steps towards him, interlocking your fingers with his. Ria watches as if it’s a scene from her favourite movie, and you all enter the room with the coats.
You find yours in the mess on the floor, fast enough to catch sight of Jungkook as he’s waiting outside the door. You recognize his coat in the mess, so you grab it before bringing it to him.
“Here,” you tell him.
He chuckles. “Thanks, peach.”
Hoseok is next to follow, and the two guys eye each other before you hear Namjoon say, “Are you sure you’re fine with getting her home?”
You look into the room – Nabi is now lying on the bed, laughing to herself.
“Hopefully, yeah,” Ria answers. “I’ve already called an Uber.”
Namjoon is watching Nabi with a strange expression on his features when he says, “You guys are still at the dorms?”
“Yeah, we are,” Nabi slurs. “Where else would we be?”
Namjoon chuckles, and he glances your way. You immediately look away, right as he says, “I’ll come with you guys, then.”
Your thoughts head to his girlfriend for a few seconds, feeling bad for the girl, though clearly, Namjoon is just trying to be a gentleman. When you see Jungkook and Hoseok waiting patiently for you, you forget all about Nabi, Ria, Namjoon and his hypothetic girlfriend, especially as you see the not-so-genuine smile on Hoseok’s lips, and the dark look in Jungkook’s gaze.
Maybe your plan was a little too evil after all.
*****
The night is cold outside ─ arctic ─ and you wish you were drunker. That way, you’d barely feel it, but no, you’re forced to a shivering mess as you walk behind Jungkook towards his car, which he was forced to park a few streets over because of a recent snowstorm. All that can be heard is the sounds of your shoes crunching in the snow and the distant buzz of the highway. Up above, the stars twinkle in the night, and smoke moves from your mouth to create a cloud over your head.
You hate winter. Always have, and always will. Especially when it’s so cold you feel like your face will fall off, and you reckon tonight is one of the coldest nights in a while.
Your eyes trail to Hoseok, and you smile in relief – at least your bed won’t be cold tonight.
You finally reach Jungkook’s car, and he unlocks the doors, the sound reverberating through the cold air. You sit in the back seat with Hoseok, pushing Jungkook’s gym bag to the side, and Jungkook is quick to turn on the engine, blasting the heater on. He meets your gaze in the rearview mirror as he waits for the engine to be warm enough to actually start driving.
For a moment, you forget Hoseok is next to you. All you can focus on is Jungkook’s gaze. Where it’s usually wide, big and innocent, his eyes are narrowed now, as if he’s eyeing you. Judging you, even. Judging your choices, and you think he’s full of shit for it – he’s the first one to fuck around whenever he has the opportunity, after all.
A moment later, he deems the car finally ready, and he looks away, focusing on the street instead. He turns up the music on the stereo, and you watch as he taps his fingers on the steering wheel in time with the beat. You do so until you feel Hoseok’s hand landing on your thigh, which attracts your attention to him.
“Thanks for inviting me,” Hoseok says, not too loud, but clearly Jungkook hears because his fingers stop tapping on the wheel.
You smile, glancing down at Hoseok’s lips. They look chapped from the cold, yet when he smiles that bright smile of his back, you can’t help but think they are still inviting.
“Please don’t judge the state of the apartment,” you whisper, leaning closer to him. “This idiot doesn’t know how to –“
Jungkook slams the brakes, and you whip your head towards him as the aftershock sends you back into your seat. His eyes are gleaming with barely concealed mischief, and the infuriating smirk graces his lips.
“Sorry,” he says, but he doesn’t seem apologetic at all.
You roll your eyes, but that kills the conversation until you arrive at your apartment, which thankfully isn’t too far away from the party. Jungkook parks out front, and you all file out of the car, walking up the stairs to your door. You unlock it while the two men stand next to you, and you’re not sure what’s colder – them, or the actual winter night.
You’re not sure you want to know the answer either.
Warm air wraps you in its embrace as you open the door and step in, and you quickly shut it after the two men to make sure the cold doesn’t come in too much. By the time you’ve turned back around, Jungkook’s already halfway to his bedroom.
“Good night,” he says over his shoulder.
For some reason, you expected him to be more of an ass about the situation, but you’re reduced to thinking he actually doesn’t care all that much. You watch him until he disappears in his room before your eyes slide to Hoseok.
He’s been observing you all this time, and the moment your eyes meet, he smiles.
“We can hang our coats in the closet,” you tell him as you unzip yours, and he follows your motion.
You grab a hanger for him, handing it to him before taking off your coat and hanging it. Once that is done, you head towards your room, pit-stopping in the kitchen to grab glasses of water. You reckon you didn’t expect him to be so silent, and it makes you slightly uncomfortable.
Even when you’re in your room, and you’ve plugged in your fairy lights, Hoseok still doesn’t say a thing.
“You good?” you ask him, doing your best to calm your sudden nerves.
Was it a good idea to bring him here after all?
He grins, nodding once. “The apartment isn’t as messy as you let it sound like.”
Not expecting that at all, you let out a small laugh. But he isn’t wrong – out of the three of you, Taehyung is by far the messiest. And now that he is gone, Jungkook and you have managed to keep the apartment tidy and clean, though sometimes Jungkook does leave some dirty dishes around.
“Oh,” you let out, and you chuckle. “Yeah, we cleaned this week.”
Last Wednesday, actually. Right before Jungkook had his pussy appointment, it turns out.
Hoseok looks around, and you gaze at his honey skin for a time. It looks warm in the lights, and his smile is still just as blinding when he offers it to you.
“Like your room.”
You scan it as if you haven’t lived here for months now. You’ve brought most of the stuff you had at home – except your collection of plushies. Polaroid pictures of you growing up are hung on threads over your desk, which is a little messy from the project you were working on yesterday. Your laptop lays there unattended, screen black, and you walk over to shut it absentmindedly.
“It’s not much, but it’s home,” you tell him, and you don’t have time to turn around for him to put his hand on your hip like he was doing earlier at the party.
You take a long swig of water, before putting the glass down on your desk. Hoseok imitates you, and then his other hand finds a home on your waist.
“Feels like you,” he whispers, head dipping down so he can say the words in your ear.
You shiver, eyes fluttering shut, as he moves your hair out of the way before kissing on the hickey he sucked on your skin at the party.
“Yeah?” you breathe out.
He nods, and you feel him move against your neck. He pulls you closer, and your breath itches in your throat when you feel his dick against your ass.
“Fuck,” he curses. “I’ve been wanting to fuck you again for so long.” He nibbles at your earlobe, and one of his hands moves to your neck, holding you firmly into place. “But you had to run away, thinking you knew me. Baby,” he pauses, as his fingers dig in your arteries, making your head swim with the lack of oxygen, “you don’t know me at all. And I’m going to fucking punish you for it tonight. Understood?”
He releases his hold on your neck, and you suck in a sharp breath. “Yes.”
“Mmh?”
You know exactly what he wants, and it makes your insides boil again. “Yes, sir.”
He smirks against you, before biting at the skin of your neck. “You’ll be a good little slut for me?”
You nod, entirely unable to form a sentence. You’ve completely forgotten that the goal of tonight is to make Jungkook pay for how he’s been having loud sex. All you can think about right now is the man behind you.
“Then turn around, baby. Strip out of your clothes.”
You obey, mostly because Hoseok brings out a submissive part of you that just craves to do what he wants. Yes, you’ve always been more on the submissive side. But with other people, you can’t help the brat in you.
You fear being a brat with Hoseok would be a very dangerous game to play.
You don’t break the eye contact as you take off your clothes, slowly. He doesn’t look away from you, though he wets his lips as if the sight of you is making him hungry.
Hoseok has a duality you have rarely seen before. Where he is an incredibly sweet person in his regular life, his bedroom self turns into a demon, a force to be reckoned with. No wonder sex with him is always so good.
When you’re finally naked, panties pooling around your ankles, Hoseok offers you a smirk. He doesn’t say anything, but he slowly undoes his belt, before motioning for you to get closer.
Only one step separates you from him, and then you’re standing right in front of him. He raises his hand, making you tilt your head back, and then he captures your mouth in a hungry kiss.
You can’t help but moan when he swats the belt at your side, the leather making your skin tingle. He pushes his tongue in your mouth, and your hands instinctively grab onto the hem of his shirt.
“Nu-uh,” he tuts, making you let go of it. “Get on your knees, baby.”
You drop to your knees, eyes darting to the bulge in his pants once before he makes you tilt your head back again. You gulp, right as he wraps his belt around your neck until the buckle is pressing against your skin. He doesn’t make it tight enough to hurt, but your hands still shake a little at being so vulnerable in front of him.
“You remember the safe word?” he asks.
“Red.”
He nods appreciatively. “And if you can’t speak, you tap my leg, correct?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Fuck you look so good like this.”
Not knowing if you can touch him, you just smile up at him, wetting your lips.
“Want to get a taste of me?”
You already know where this is going to lead. Hoseok fucked your mouth more than once in the three months you had casual sex with him. So you answer, “I want you to come down my throat.”
He smirks. “Good girl.”
With his free hand, he unbuttons his pants, before pushing them down his legs. He doesn’t step out of them, instead palming himself through his boxers. You watch the imprint of his dick, salivating at the sight, especially as precum is already wetting the fabric.
Hoseok doesn’t have a particularly big dick. But whenever he fucks you, it feels like he’s the biggest you’ve ever had, mostly because he knows how to use it. Knows how to move and snap his hips in a way that makes you think you’re seeing into the future. It also makes it so sucking his dick doesn’t hurt your jaw too much, so you’re able to do it for a longer period of time.
Tonight, you have an inkling that you’ll be doing it for a while.
He pushes his underwear down, freeing his dick. Your eyes drop to it, not surprised to see the angry, swollen tip. He looks like he’s about to burst, but you know it’s a trick of the eye – Hoseok has more stamina than one would think.
Holding the base of his dick, he brings the tip closer to your face. Your mouth falls open, expecting him to push his cock in, but he instead taps your cheek with it.
“I want to ruin you,” he says in a low voice. “I want you to never be able to fuck another guy because you still think of me.”
You gulp, tongue darting to wet your lips. He gets the cue, and he brings his dick to your mouth. You don’t hesitate before licking at his slit, the salty taste of his precum filling your mouth. You then wrap your lips around the head, giving a tentative suck as your tongue plays with the underside of it.
He grunts, cocking his head to the side. And then he starts pulling on the belt – just a little, not enough to hurt, but enough to make it so it’s a tad harder to breathe. He’s usually pretty safe in his sex practices, but you feel like this could be dangerous.
You only then understand what he really meant by punishing you, and it makes your pussy drip on your thighs.
You moan around his dick, before slowly pushing forward until he hits the back of your throat, and your eyes water. You swallow around him, keeping the gag reflex at bay as he circles his hips. You pull away from his cock to move to his balls instead, still not using your hands as you lick at the spot between them, licking up his dick at the same time.
“Hands on me, baby,” he commands.
As per usual, you obey. One of your hands moves to fondle his balls, and the other wraps around the base of his cock so you can jerk him off as you suck. And then you get to work, eyes shutting as you concentrate on pulling grunts out of him.
He doesn’t let you do it for a long time. He’s quick to pull on the belt more – it’s a leash more than a belt, is it? – which makes you pull away, lips parted as you struggle to suck in some air.
“Eyes on me,” he tells you. “I want to see you cry as you choke on my dick.”
When he guides his cock back towards your mouth, you keep your eyes on him, ever so a good girl, and you let him thrust in your mouth. The first two times he does it, your gag reflex doesn’t show up, but the third time you gag, spit rolling on your chin as he pulls away. A line of drool connects his tip to your mouth, and it breaks as he once again taps his cock on your cheek. Tears water your eyes, and he watches you blink them away, slightly shaking his head in disapproval.
You know that was your last chance when he pushes his dick in your mouth again, establishing a steady yet hard rhythm that has your gaze blurring. You moan against him, right as he grunts, whispering filthy curses entwined with mentions of your name. And when he starts going faster, the sounds of you choking get louder. It’s indecent, pornographic, and tears roll on your cheeks as he throws his head back, grunting loudly.
“Fuck, baby.”
He stops at the back of your throat, looking down at you. He wipes some tears on your cheeks as you swallow around him. His dick twitches inside your mouth, but you know he’s not about to come.
Soon, perhaps, but not just yet.
“You’re okay?” he asks, because even though he’s pretty rough, he always does care about his partner too.
He lets you pull away to catch your breath, releasing his tight hold on the belt too. You breathe raggedly, throat feeling raw from the intrusion.
“Yes,” you breathe out.
“Good.” He licks his lips, offering you a dangerous chuckle. “You’re going to let me come down your throat?”
You nod, and he taps the tip of his dick against your sealed lips. You don’t remember shutting your mouth, so you open it wide again for him. He pushes forward, slowly, until all of it is embedded in your mouth, head pushing against the back of your throat. He remains unmoving long enough for you to gag, and then he pushes forward even more before pulling back.
When he starts fucking your mouth again, you know he’s chasing his high. So you fondle his balls, moan around his dick, try not to choke whenever he hits the back of your throat. Evidently, you still do sometimes, and tears roll down your cheeks by the time he growls, “Open your throat up for me, baby”.
You moan one last time, as he pushes all the way to the back of your mouth, grunting loudly as hot spurts of his cum fills your throat. As his dick twitches, he pulls out a little, and you know better than to swallow right away. So you patiently wait as he finishes, before fully pulling away.
He grabs your jaw, and forces you to tilt your head back. “Open up.” You do, and he spits on top of his cum before saying, “Swallow”. You do that too, and the next time you open your mouth, it’s fully empty. Only then does he let go of your jaw, and he also quickly takes his belt off from around your neck, letting it drop to the floor.
It falls with a loud thump, and you breathe in deeply for the first time in a while. Your throat aches, and you massage your neck where the buckle left an indent in your skin. Concern grows on his features as you chuckle awkwardly, getting up from the floor.
Your knees are already hurting, and you know you’ll have bruises by the time you wake up tomorrow.
“Is your neck okay?” he asks.
You drop your hand, and his fingers ghost over the spot. “Yeah,” you reassure him. “It’ll be okay.”
“Good.” He smirks, and then he captures your lips in another heated kiss. One of his hands moves between your thighs, and he feels your wetness, groaning in satisfaction. “You’re dripping for me,” he says as he pulls away from the kiss, resting his forehead against yours.
“I am.”
He licks at your mouth, before saying, “Too bad you won’t be getting some tonight, mmh?”
And he moves his hand away from your core to settle it on your waist instead.
“What?” you let out.
At this, he laughs, and it’s a little mean. “You think I’ll make you come when you’ve ghosted me for a few months?” He pauses, letting his words sink in. “Nah, you’re going to have to work for it, baby.”
You want to curse him, but somehow it just turns you on further. “When can I see you again then?”
He ponders for a time, pulling away so he can meet your gaze. “What about next weekend?”
You’re disappointed, but you try not to let it show. “Any chance you’d be available during the week?”
“Maybe,” he says, cocking his head to the side. “Will you be nice and not touch yourself until then?”
You bite at your bottom lip, nodding once.
“Then yes, we can hang out this week,” he concludes. He frees your lip from your teeth with his thumb, before gently tapping your cheek. “But I’ve got to go now.”
It surprises you. Back when you were friends with benefits, you always stayed the night at his place, so you expected him to stay tonight. But he immediately steps away from you, putting his clothes back on quickly as you just stand there, naked and awkward.
“You’re leaving?”
He glances at you as he’s putting his belt back on. “Yeah, won’t have you think I’m into you like that again.”
It hurts just a tad little bit, but at the same time you agree with him. Not sleeping over is a good way to avoid feelings, so you decide to throw on a pair of sweatpants and a sweater so you can walk him to the front door.
Hoseok kisses your forehead once when you get there, before grabbing his coat. You watch as he slides his arms in it, draping it on his shoulders before he bends down to put his shoes on too. When he straightens, he offers you a hug and you gladly embrace him as he wishes you good night.
You’re somehow confused as you shut the door behind him, and you stay there for a few seconds, almost expecting him to come back. He doesn’t, and you’re left heading to the bathroom to brush your teeth, only so you can get rid of the taste of him, and then you head to your bedroom.
And as you lie awake in bed, the only thing you can hope is that Jungkook didn’t hear you after all. You’re ashamed of what you did, but you’re far too tired to think about it deeply. All you can do is stare at the wall in front of you, hoping that sleep will take you.
It doesn’t, not until the early hours of the morning, when the sun is starting to kiss the horizon, turning the sky to liquid gold.
Teaser | Chapter 1.5 | Next
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Push of a Button
Day 16 → Remote-Controlled Vibrator 💋 Jenson Button
Warnings: 18+ content
Kinktober Masterlist
Jenson leans back against the pit wall, arms crossed, his eyes locked on you. You’re standing just a few feet away, microphone in hand, talking animatedly to Lando Norris. Your smile is bright, your laughter effortless.
He’s seen it a thousand times, the way you light up around drivers, the way they light up around you. But today, there’s a twist in his chest, a quiet, insistent pressure that he can’t ignore.
Lando is leaning in closer than usual, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he grins at something you say. Jenson’s jaw tightens. He knows that smile, knows it’s not just friendly. Lando’s flirting, and you’re — what? Oblivious? Playing along? Jenson isn’t sure which is worse.
“Having fun?” Martin Brundle’s voice cuts through his thoughts, casual but probing. He’s always been good at that, at picking up on things left unsaid.
Jenson forces a smile, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “Just watching the show,” he replies, his tone light, but there’s an edge to it. His gaze doesn’t leave you.
Martin follows his line of sight, then chuckles softly. “Ah, I see. Lando’s quite the charmer, isn’t he?”
“Too charming,” Jenson mutters, almost to himself. He’s trying to keep his cool, but it’s getting harder by the second.
There’s something about the way Lando looks at you, like he’s seeing something more than just a journalist, more than just a colleague. And you — God, you’re smiling back at him like you don’t notice a damn thing.
Martin raises an eyebrow. “Jealous, are we?”
“Not jealous,” Jenson says, a bit too quickly. Then, quieter, “Just … protective.”
Martin claps him on the shoulder. “Well, she’s yours, isn’t she?”
Jenson nods, but the tension in his chest doesn’t ease. His. The word feels heavy, like a responsibility, like a promise. He watches as you and Lando exchange a few more words, then you laugh again, this time reaching out to lightly touch Lando’s arm. It’s a brief moment, but it feels like a punch to the gut.
“Excuse me,” Jenson says abruptly, pushing off the wall and striding towards you.
You don’t notice him at first, too caught up in whatever Lando’s saying. But then he’s there, a solid presence at your side, and your eyes flicker up to meet his. There’s a brief flash of surprise, then warmth, and you smile up at him, a smile just for him, but Jenson’s too wound up to fully appreciate it.
“Jenson!” You say, your voice a mix of surprise and happiness. “I didn’t see you there.”
“Obviously,” he says, but there’s no humor in his tone. He turns to Lando, his expression carefully neutral. “Norris.”
“Button,” Lando replies, but there’s a mischievous glint in his eye, like he knows exactly what he’s doing. “We were just talking about the upcoming race. It’s going to be a tough one.”
“Yeah, well,” Jenson says, his voice steady but firm, “she’s done her job for now. You’ve got a race to focus on, haven’t you?”
You blink up at him, a little taken aback by the sudden change in his demeanor. “Jenson, we were just-”
“I know,” he interrupts, his eyes still on Lando. “But I’m sure Lando here has better things to do than chat all day, don’t you, Norris?”
There’s a challenge in his voice now, a quiet but unmistakable one. Lando’s smile doesn’t falter, but his gaze sharpens, meeting Jenson’s head-on.
“Of course,” Lando says easily, but there’s a tension in the air now, something almost electric. “Good to see you, Y/N. Catch you later?”
You nod, still trying to make sense of what’s happening, and Lando gives you one last smile before turning and walking away, leaving you alone with Jenson.
The silence that follows is heavy, filled with unspoken words and lingering tension. You shift slightly, turning to face him fully. “What was that about?”
“Nothing,” Jenson says, but it’s too quick, too clipped.
You give him a look, one eyebrow arched, calling him out without saying a word. He sighs, running a hand through his hair, clearly frustrated.
“Lando was flirting with you,” he says finally, his voice low but intense.
You blink, then laugh softly, shaking your head. “He was just being friendly, Jense. We were talking about the race, that’s all.”
“That’s not all,” he insists, his eyes locking onto yours. “He was flirting, and you-” He stops himself, taking a breath. “You didn’t stop him.”
The accusation hangs in the air, and you feel a flash of irritation. “So what, you’re accusing me of flirting back?”
“That’s not what I’m saying,” he snaps, then immediately softens, his hand reaching out to gently cup your elbow. “I’m just … look, it bothers me, okay? Watching him look at you like that, knowing how much attention you get from the other drivers. It’s-” He pauses, searching for the right words. “It’s not easy.”
You stare at him, taking in the tension in his shoulders, the concern in his eyes. “Jenson, you know I only have eyes for you, right? I talk to these guys because it’s my job, not because I’m interested in them.”
“I know that,” he says, but there’s still something unresolved in his tone, a lingering insecurity that he can’t quite shake. “But it’s not just about that. It’s about how they see you. How they think they have a chance with you.”
“But they don’t,” you say firmly, stepping closer, your voice softening. “They never have, and they never will. You’re the one I’m with. No one else.”
He closes his eyes for a moment, absorbing your words, then opens them again, his gaze softening as he looks at you. “I’m sorry,” he murmurs, his thumb brushing gently over your skin. “I just … seeing you with Lando, it got to me. I don’t like the idea of anyone thinking they can come between us.”
“They can’t,” you assure him, leaning into his touch. “And they won’t. But you have to trust me. Trust that I know where my heart is.”
He nods slowly, his grip on your elbow tightening slightly as if grounding himself in your presence. “I do trust you. It’s just — sometimes I get this feeling, this … fear, I guess. That maybe one day you’ll wake up and realize you could have anyone, and you’ll wonder why you’re with me.”
Your heart clenches at his words, and you reach up, cupping his face in your hands. “Jenson, I’m with you because I love you. Not because of what anyone else thinks or how many people flirt with me. You’re the one I choose, every day.”
His eyes search yours, and for a moment, it feels like everything else fades away — the noise of the paddock, the pressure of the job, the endless demands on both of your time. It’s just the two of you, standing together in this moment, connected by something deeper than words.
“I love you too,” he whispers, his voice rough with emotion. “More than anything.”
You smile, a soft, tender smile that makes his heart ache in the best way possible. “Then stop worrying about Lando or anyone else. You have me, okay? All of me.”
He pulls you closer, wrapping his arms around you in a tight embrace. For a long moment, you just stand there, holding each other, the rest of the world forgotten. Finally, he pulls back slightly, his forehead resting against yours.
“I’ll try,” he promises, his voice low and sincere. “But if Lando makes another move, I can’t guarantee I’ll be as calm next time.”
You laugh softly, shaking your head. “There won’t be a next time. Trust me.”
He smiles, but there’s still a hint of something unresolved in his eyes. “I just don’t want to lose you,” he admits quietly.
“You won’t,” you say firmly, your hands still resting on his chest. “You never will.”
He nods, his tension finally easing, and he leans in, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “Okay,” he whispers, and it’s like a promise, like he’s sealing this moment between the two of you. “Okay.”
***
Jenson zips up his travel bag, his eyes flickering towards the clock on the nightstand. You’re running late, as usual, busy with the final touches of your makeup in the bathroom. He can hear you humming softly, a familiar tune that brings a smile to his face.
“Five more minutes?” You call out from the bathroom, your voice slightly muffled by the closed door.
“We’ve got to leave in two,” Jenson replies, but there’s no real urgency in his tone. He’s used to this routine, knows you’ll make it out the door just in time. Still, something in him shifts as he glances at the bed, an idea forming in the back of his mind.
You emerge a moment later, your hair perfectly styled, lips a soft shade of pink that matches the blush on your cheeks. You’re stunning, as always, and Jenson feels that familiar stir of pride — and possessiveness. You’re his, but today, he wants to make sure you feel that, too.
“We should get going,” you say, grabbing your bag from the chair.
But Jenson moves faster, closing the distance between you in a few long strides. Before you can react, his hand is around your wrist, gently but firmly pulling you back towards the bed.
“Jenson, what are you-” You start to protest, but the look in his eyes stops you short.
“Sit down,” he says, his voice calm but authoritative.
You hesitate for a moment, caught off guard by the sudden shift in his demeanor. But there’s something in his gaze, a mixture of intent and desire, that makes your pulse quicken. You let him guide you to the edge of the bed, your heart thumping in your chest as you sit down.
Jenson kneels in front of you, his hands resting on your knees, eyes searching yours. “I’ve been thinking,” he begins, his voice low, “about what we talked about yesterday. About how much I want you, how much I need you to know you’re mine.”
You open your mouth to respond, but he presses a finger to your lips, silencing you. “Let me finish,” he says softly.
You nod, the air between you charged with anticipation.
“There’s something I want to give you,” he continues, his fingers tracing the curve of your jaw. “A reminder, something special, just between us.”
Your brow furrows slightly in confusion, but you don’t break eye contact, trying to read the intent behind his words.
Jenson reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small, elegant box. Your breath catches as he opens it, revealing a sleek, discreet toy nestled inside. Your eyes widen slightly, and you glance up at him, searching his face for any sign of uncertainty. But there’s none — only a steady resolve and a spark of mischief in his eyes.
“Jenson …” you start, your voice a mix of surprise and curiosity.
He takes the toy out of the box, his touch deliberate and gentle. “Trust me,” he murmurs, leaning in to kiss you softly, his lips brushing yours in a way that makes your heart skip a beat. “I want to take care of you, make sure you feel me, even when we’re apart.”
You swallow hard, the implications of his words sinking in. “How …”
“I’ve got it all figured out,” he says, his voice soothing, but there’s a fire in his eyes that sends a thrill down your spine. “I control it from my phone. So no matter where you are, no matter what you’re doing, you’ll know I’m there with you.”
Your heart pounds in your chest, the idea both thrilling and nerve-wracking. “But the race-”
“We have time,” he interrupts, his voice firm but tender. He slides his hands up your thighs, his touch slow and deliberate, leaving a trail of warmth in its wake. “You trust me, don’t you?”
“Of course,” you breathe, your voice barely above a whisper.
His hands reach the hem of your skirt, and he pauses, giving you one last chance to change your mind. But you don’t. You nod, a silent affirmation, and he gently pushes you back onto the bed, his movements careful and deliberate.
“Relax,” he whispers, his hands deftly parting your legs. You do as he says, your body responding to his touch, the anticipation building with every passing second. Jenson is focused, his hands steady as he places the toy exactly where he wants it, his touch both tender and possessive.
You bite your lip, the sensation already making your heart race. Jenson watches you closely, his expression one of quiet intensity. He’s enjoying this, you realize — the control, the closeness, the way your body responds to him.
“Comfortable?” He asks, his voice a low murmur, laced with something darker, more intense.
You nod, unable to find your voice, your senses heightened by the knowledge of what’s about to happen.
He reaches into his pocket again, this time pulling out his phone. He unlocks it with a swipe, his eyes never leaving yours as he opens the app. “You’ll feel me with you all day,” he says, his voice dropping to a husky whisper. “And when the moment’s right, I’ll remind you who you belong to.”
A shiver runs down your spine at his words, a delicious mix of anticipation and trepidation. “Jenson,” you murmur, a mix of nerves and excitement in your voice.
He smiles, a slow, confident smile that sends heat pooling low in your belly. “Trust me,” he repeats, his thumb hovering over the screen.
And then, without another word, he presses down.
A soft gasp escapes your lips as the toy hums to life, a gentle vibration that sends waves of pleasure rippling through your body. You grip the bedspread, your eyes widening as the sensation builds, filling you with warmth and desire.
Jenson watches your reaction closely, his eyes darkening with satisfaction. “You like that?” He asks, his voice a low rumble that vibrates through your entire body.
“Yes,” you breathe, your voice shaky but honest.
He shifts on the bed, leaning over you, his lips brushing your ear. “Good,” he murmurs, his breath hot against your skin. “Because this is just the beginning.”
He adjusts the setting, increasing the intensity, and you arch your back, a moan slipping from your lips before you can stop it. The pleasure is overwhelming, consuming, and you can’t help but cling to him, your fingers digging into his arms as he holds you steady.
“Jenson,” you gasp, your voice tinged with desperation. But he’s relentless, his control unwavering as he watches you writhe beneath him, his expression a mix of tenderness and possession.
“Just breathe,” he soothes, his hand caressing your thigh. “You’re doing so well, love.”
You try to focus, try to ground yourself in his touch, but the sensations are too much, too intense. Every nerve in your body is alight, every inch of your skin hypersensitive to his touch, to the vibrations that are driving you closer and closer to the edge.
Jenson shifts, his lips brushing against your forehead, your cheeks, your lips, grounding you in the moment, reminding you of his presence. “You’re mine,” he whispers, his voice a low, possessive growl that sends shivers down your spine. “Say it.”
“I’m yours,” you gasp, the words tumbling out of you in a rush, as much a plea as a declaration.
His eyes flare with satisfaction, and he lowers his head, capturing your lips in a searing kiss that steals your breath away. You kiss him back with everything you have, pouring all your love, your desire, your trust into that kiss.
When he finally pulls back, you’re both breathless, your heart pounding in your chest. “That’s my girl,” he murmurs, his voice soft but filled with pride. “You’re doing so well. Just a little longer.”
He adjusts the setting again, and this time, the intensity makes you cry out, your body trembling with the effort to hold on, to ride the waves of pleasure crashing over you. But Jenson is there, his presence a steady anchor in the storm, guiding you, supporting you.
“Jenson,” you whimper, your voice trembling with need. “Please …”
But he only smiles, a slow, knowing smile that tells you he’s not done with you yet. “You can take it,” he says, his voice low and commanding. “I know you can.”
And you do, because he’s right — he knows you better than anyone, knows exactly how far he can push you, how much you can take. And right now, he’s pushing you to your limits, testing your resolve, your trust, your love for him.
The toy buzzes relentlessly against you, sending shockwaves of pleasure through your entire body. You can barely think, barely breathe, your world reduced to the sensations overwhelming you, to the man who’s controlling them.
“Jenson,” you cry out, your voice breaking with the intensity of it all. But he’s there, his touch grounding you, his voice guiding you, his presence a steady, reassuring force in the midst of the storm.
“You’re mine,” he whispers again, his voice rough with emotion, with need. “All mine.”
“Yes,” you gasp, your voice barely a whisper. “Yours.”
And then, just when you think you can’t take any more, he finally relents, his thumb sliding over the screen, lowering the intensity until the vibrations stop altogether, leaving you trembling and breathless in his arms.
Jenson pulls you close, his hand gently sliding down to fix your underwear, carefully smoothing it back into place. He takes a moment to pat over it, a satisfied smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he feels the warmth radiating from you.
“This is just the beginning,” he murmurs, his voice low and filled with promise. He leans in to kiss your forehead, his touch lingering as if he’s imprinting this moment into both of your memories. “There’s a whole day ahead, love. And I’m not done with you yet.”
You shiver under his touch, your body still humming with the aftershocks of pleasure, and the anticipation of what’s to come makes your heart race all over again. As he stands, offering you a hand to help you up, you know this day is going to be one you’ll never forget.
***
Jenson leans casually against the pit wall, his eyes fixed on the big screen broadcasting the live feed from the paddock. You’re on camera, poised and professional as always, a radiant smile on your face as you prepare for the post-FP2 interviews. The soft buzz of the paddock fades into the background as he watches you, the world narrowing down to just you and the screen.
He knows your routine by heart — the way you stand, the confident tilt of your head, the way you hold the microphone with ease. But today, there’s something different, a lingering anticipation that’s been building ever since this morning in the hotel room.
You catch sight of Charles Leclerc approaching, and your smile widens, eyes brightening with recognition. “Charles! A strong session today. How are you feeling going into qualifying?”
Charles grins back, his boyish charm in full force as he stops in front of you. “Feeling good. The car’s in a good place, and we’ve got a solid shot at pole.”
Jenson watches the interaction closely, the subtle way Charles leans in just a fraction closer than necessary, the playful glint in his eye as he responds to your questions. It’s nothing out of the ordinary — Charles is known for his easy charm — but to Jenson, it’s a reminder of how easily others are drawn to you, how effortlessly you command attention.
You laugh at something Charles says, a soft, genuine sound that Jenson feels in his chest. He sees the way Charles’ eyes flicker over you, lingering for just a second too long. It’s innocent enough on the surface, but Jenson knows better. He knows the effect you have on people, the way you light up a room just by being in it.
“Glad to hear it,” you say, your voice smooth and warm, the consummate professional. “There’s been a lot of talk about strategy — how much of a role do you think tire management will play tomorrow?”
Charles’ gaze doesn’t waver from yours, his smile widening as he leans in slightly, just enough that it feels intimate. “It’s always a factor, but I think we’ve got it under control. Of course, anything can happen on race day.”
Jenson’s jaw tightens imperceptibly, a flicker of something dark and possessive flaring up inside him. His hand slips into his pocket, fingers brushing against his phone. The control, the power, is right there, just a tap away. He can’t resist the temptation — especially not when Charles is looking at you like that.
You’re in the middle of another question when Jenson’s thumb hovers over the app. He watches you closely, the slight flush in your cheeks, the way you shift your weight from one foot to the other, the way Charles’ attention seems to linger a bit too long on the curve of your lips.
Without a second thought, Jenson taps the screen, the motion almost casual. He increases the intensity just enough to remind you of his presence, of the promise he made that morning. The toy buzzes to life against you, sending a jolt of sensation through your body that’s as unexpected as it is intense.
You falter, just for a split second, the question dying on your lips as your body reacts to the sudden stimulation. Your eyes widen slightly, the microphone trembling in your grip as you try to maintain your composure.
Charles doesn’t seem to notice the brief pause, still caught up in his answer, but Jenson sees everything. The way your breathing hitches, the way your posture stiffens as you fight to keep your cool. It’s subtle, but it’s there, and it sends a thrill through him.
“Are you okay?” Charles asks, noticing the brief flicker of something in your expression.
You force a smile, nodding quickly as you scramble to regain control. “Yes, just — just a little tired from all the running around today. But I’m fine, really.”
Jenson smirks to himself, satisfied with the small victory. But he’s not done yet. He adjusts the setting again, this time dialing up the intensity just a notch, enough to keep you on edge but not enough to make it impossible to continue.
You feel the change immediately, the vibrations intensifying against you, and it takes every ounce of willpower not to react visibly. You clench your jaw, forcing yourself to stay focused on Charles, to keep the interview on track.
But it’s hard — so, so hard — when every nerve in your body is alight with sensation, when every word feels like a battle to keep your composure.
“So, Charles,” you continue, your voice slightly strained but still steady, “do you think Ferrari has what it takes to challenge for the win this weekend?”
Charles tilts his head, considering the question, his gaze still fixed on you with that easy, confident charm. “I think we’re in a good place. The team has been working hard, and we’re going to give it everything we’ve got. But we’ll have to see how things play out on track.”
Jenson’s eyes narrow slightly as he watches Charles, the way the younger driver’s attention never wavers from you, the way he seems so comfortable, so at ease. There’s no mistaking the attraction there, the subtle undercurrent of flirtation in every word, every glance.
And Jenson can’t help himself. He taps the screen again, the movement almost automatic, dialing up the intensity just a bit more.
This time, the reaction is immediate. You gasp softly, your eyes widening as the sensation overwhelms you, and you have to bite your lip to keep from crying out. The microphone slips in your hand, your grip faltering as you struggle to keep control.
Charles notices the change, his brows knitting together in concern. “Are you sure you’re okay?” He asks, his voice softer, more intimate now.
You nod quickly, trying to brush it off, but the effort it takes to speak, to form coherent sentences, is almost too much. “I’m — yes, just a bit … distracted. But I’m fine.”
Jenson’s smirk deepens, satisfaction blooming in his chest as he watches you fight to maintain your composure. He knows how hard it is for you right now, knows exactly what you’re feeling, and it drives him wild with a mix of possessiveness and desire.
But he’s not cruel — not really. He gives you a reprieve, lowering the intensity just enough to let you catch your breath, to finish the interview without completely unraveling on live television.
You take a deep, shaky breath, trying to regain some semblance of control as you wrap up the interview. “Thank you, Charles, and good luck tomorrow,” you manage, your voice only slightly breathless.
Charles smiles, still concerned but letting it go as he nods. “Thank you. And take care of yourself, okay?”
You nod, offering a strained smile in return as you turn away, your heart pounding in your chest, your body still thrumming with the aftershocks of sensation. You can barely focus, barely think, as you make your way off camera, the weight of Jenson’s control heavy on your mind.
Jenson watches you go, his heart pounding with a mix of satisfaction and anticipation. He knows what’s coming next, knows that you’ll find him the moment you’re out of sight, knows the confrontation that’s brewing just beneath the surface.
But for now, he’s content to watch, to wait, to let the anticipation build as you navigate the pit lane, trying to keep your cool while knowing that he’s the one pulling the strings.
You make it to a quiet corner of the paddock, out of sight of the cameras, and lean heavily against the wall, your breath coming in short, ragged bursts. You know he’s watching, know he’s aware of every reaction, every tremor in your body.
And then, as if on cue, your phone buzzes in your pocket. You pull it out with trembling fingers, already knowing who it’s from. The message is simple, just one word: Mine.
You swallow hard, a mixture of emotions swirling in your chest — desire, frustration, love, and something darker, more intense. You know you’re his, there’s no question about that, but the way he reminds you, the way he exerts his control over you, leaves you breathless, craving more.
Before you can respond, you hear footsteps approaching, and you look up to see Jenson walking towards you, his expression calm and collected, but with that same spark of intensity in his eyes that you saw this morning.
“Jenson,” you start, your voice shaky but filled with emotion.
He doesn’t say anything at first, just steps closer, his hand reaching out to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing lightly over your lips. “You did well,” he murmurs, his voice low and filled with pride. “But you know this isn’t over yet.”
Your heart skips a beat at his words, the promise of what’s to come making your pulse quicken. You nod, unable to find the words, but he sees the understanding in your eyes, the acceptance of what he’s done, and what he’s going to do.
He leans in, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispers, “You’re mine, and I’m going to make sure you never forget it.”
With that, he pulls back, his eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that sends a shiver down your spine. He doesn’t need to say anything else — you know what’s coming, and the anticipation is enough to make your knees weak.
“Let’s go,” he says finally, his voice firm but gentle as he takes your hand, leading you away from the paddock. The noise of the crowd fades, replaced by the quiet hum of the facility around you. He doesn’t speak, doesn’t need to, and the silence between you is thick with anticipation. You can feel your heart pounding in your chest, each step forward amplifying the tension that’s been building all day.
He stops in front of a bathroom door, glancing around to ensure you’re alone before pushing it open and guiding you inside. The door closes behind you with a soft click, the lock sliding into place with a finality that makes your pulse quicken.
The room is small, sterile, with white tiles and a large mirror above the sink. The only light comes from the overhead fluorescent bulb, casting sharp shadows on the walls. Jenson doesn’t waste any time — he turns you around, hands gripping your hips as he lifts you effortlessly onto the counter.
You gasp as the cool surface meets your skin, the contrast with the heat radiating from your body almost too much to bear. He stands between your legs, his presence overwhelming as he leans in close, his breath hot against your neck.
“Look at you,” he murmurs, his voice a low rumble that sends shivers down your spine. “So eager, so ready for me.”
You can’t help the whimper that escapes your lips, your body trembling with anticipation. His hands trail down your thighs, fingers brushing against the edge of your skirt before pushing it up, exposing the thin fabric of your underwear.
He pulls out his phone, the app already open, and you can see the glint of satisfaction in his eyes as he turns up the intensity again. The toy inside you comes to life with a sudden, powerful vibration that has you gasping, your hands gripping the edge of the counter for support.
“Jenson-” you manage to breathe out, but the words are lost as the sensations overwhelm you. Your legs tremble, your body straining against the relentless stimulation, but he doesn’t relent. Instead, he steps back slightly, his hands on your knees, gently but firmly pushing your legs apart.
He watches you, his gaze dark and intense, as you struggle to keep yourself together. The toy pulses inside you, every nerve ending on fire as you fight to stay on the edge, to hold on just a little longer. But it’s too much — everything is too much — and you can feel yourself starting to unravel, the pleasure building until it’s all-consuming.
“Don’t hold back,” Jenson murmurs, his voice calm but commanding. “I want to see you fall apart for me.”
Your head tilts back, your mouth falling open as a moan escapes you, loud and desperate. You’re so close, teetering on the brink, and when he presses just a bit harder on your legs, holding you open and exposed, you finally lose control.
The orgasm crashes over you, wave after wave of pleasure that leaves you breathless, your entire body trembling as you cry out, unable to stop yourself. You fall off the edge, utterly consumed by the sensations coursing through you, and Jenson watches every second of it, his gaze locked on you, unblinking, taking in every reaction, every shudder, every gasp.
When you finally come down, your body weak and spent, he steps closer again. His hand trails up your thigh, fingers hooking around the edge of your underwear before gently pulling it aside. The toy slips out easily, still buzzing faintly, coated in the evidence of your pleasure.
He doesn’t break eye contact as he brings it to his lips, his tongue flicking out to taste the sweetness that lingers on it. The sight alone is enough to make your heart skip a beat, the intimacy of the act making your breath catch in your throat.
“Delicious,” he whispers, the word sending another shiver down your spine as he licks the toy clean, his eyes never leaving yours. When he’s satisfied, he leans down, pressing a kiss to your inner thigh before sliding the toy back inside you.
The sensation is different now, your body still sensitive, and you gasp softly as he adjusts it, making sure it’s nestled perfectly against you. He steps back, his thumb brushing over your thigh as he looks at you with a mixture of pride and desire.
“There we go,” he murmurs, his voice low and possessive. “You’re ready for the rest of the day now, aren’t you?”
You nod, your breath still coming in short gasps as you try to regain some semblance of composure. But it’s hard, especially when he’s looking at you like that, his eyes filled with the promise of more to come.
He helps you off the counter, your legs still shaky, but his hold is steady, grounding you as you smooth down your skirt and try to collect yourself. He tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, his touch gentle now, almost tender.
“This is just the beginning,” he whispers, his lips brushing against your temple. “You’re mine.”
And as he leads you out of the bathroom, back into the world, you know that no matter what happens, you’ll always be his, and he’ll always be yours.
#f1 imagine#f1#f1 fic#f1 fanfic#f1 fanfiction#f1 x reader#f1 x you#jenson button#jb22#jenson button imagine#jenson button x reader#jenson button x you#jenson button fluff#jenson button fanfic#f1 fluff#f1 blurb#f1 one shot#f1 x y/n#f1 drabble#f1 fandom#f1blr#f1 x female reader#jenson button x y/n#kinktober
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hii mamas, probably stupid since youve been writing less, but js incase can i req ellie swiping through an album of videos and photos of reader, but then her mood is instantly changed when she swipes to a sx recording thta she completely forgot about? miss youu 😔😔
i’m sorry baby ik i suck ive been reaaall busy lately so i haven’t had much time for writing but! here’s a short one. working through requests slowly but surely. enjoy!
thinking about loser!ellie turning pussy drunk for you, or rather, the thought of you, in seconds. bc when am i not thinking about loser!ellie?
loser!ellie, naturally, never leaves the house. why would she— when she has her savage starlight comics stacked up on her shelf, her xbox hooked up, locked and loaded with a never ending amount of games, and most importantly, you, to come over whenever she pleases.
except for now, unfortunately. you had gone out to see an old friend who was visiting in town, and ellie, trying her very best to be a respectful girlfriend, decided to stay in (against her wishes).
as the pathetic, attached, and adorable loser she was, she had resorted to scrolling through her compiled camera album of you, which you self- titled “the prettiest, coolest, smartest, awesomest girl ever. aka your wife.”
she laughed under her breath, shaking her head fondly at the statement as she continued to swipe through countless candids, selfies, and clips of you. her girl.
she couldn’t help but smile sweetly into the crook of her elbow, head falling sideways into her mussed bed as she relived her favorite moments with you, which was really actually every moment she spent with you.
after skimming through an 8 minute long video of the two of you trying, and failing, to kill a small bug on her bedroom wall, it’s safe to say ellie’s heart was warm, and filled to the brim.
the next video’s thumbnail doesn’t immediately draw up any memories of hers, a blurry view of what seems to be her wall of space posters, so she assumes it to be an accidental recording.
but it’s— 18 minutes long??
curiosity winning her over, ellie clicks on the video, a loading symbol popping up on the screen briefly before sounds of heavy breathing overtake the room.
bedsheets rustle in the background, as ellie watches what appears to be her own hand scrambling at the phone’s lens, propping it up on her bedside table.
the view is what can only be described as filthy. your back arching off the mattress, legs tied to opposite posts on the bed as you writhe, gasping for air as ellie holds a vibrator lush against your clit.
“ah! ellie!” you’re crying out, ankles twisting and pulling at the grasps their in.
present-day ellie’s face glows a deep red, her breathing already picking up as she watches the screen, entranced. her legs come together, squeezing, as she begins to rock her hips down into the bed ever-so-subtly, clit grazing the seam of her pants in reach for the smallest sparks of stimulation.
she had completely forgotten about this video, the post-sex exhaustion wiping it from her memory, but it served as quite the pleasant surprise for her pathetic loser!self now. she flips over onto her back.
heart pumping, she roams her fingers across her navel, dipping under her boxers as she stares at her past self humping greedily on one of your thighs, head thrown back. your hands were gripped on the meat of her hips, pushing her down harder against yourself as she continued to shakily rub the toy over you.
her soft whimpers intermingled with your pleading moans to form an addicting symphony— ellie biting down on her lip as the tip her finger brushes over her pulsing clit.
“ellie, please, need your fingers,” you whine in the current scene.
“you got ‘em,” she hears herself husk out.
ellie groans, her finger twitching down involuntarily to press harder into her needy, puffy clit.
“fuck,” she swears under her breath, head falling back into a pillow as she fucks her hips up harder against her hand. her jaw drops open, head spinning as she pleads for your touch. simply yearning like the fucking loser she is, whimpering your name over and over again as she pants out heavily.
video-ellie has now ditched the vibrator, fucking her fingers messily into your weeping pussy as you raise a hand up to cup her heat.
“gonna let me stuff you up, els?” you ask, half-lidded with a surprisingly cocky smirk for the amount you’re dripping down your thighs.
“please,” ellie cries now, in sync with her recorded whines as she replicates your motions, a halfhearted attempt to relive the eye-rolling experience.
you, or she finally slides two fingers in, curling them impatiently to rub over that one spot that has her whispering, “please mommy.”
the phone falls onto the mattress, filthy sounds still playing in the background as ellie clutches the bedsheets instead, twisting them for dear life. her fingers thrust more rapidly now, sounds of her slick filling the air as she spreads her legs eagle-wide to reach even deeper.
how pathetic she is. this wet from just a video recording? this desperate for your touch? she’s nearing her finish already, beating past-her, which from the sound of it, seems to be getting edged.
her fingers jam harder into her g-spot, little uh-uh-uh’s slipping out from between her lips with the movement. ellie’s other hand scrambles for her thrown phone, dazedly clicking your contact and thumb searching for the audio recording option.
she can’t hold it anymore, legs kicking and squirming as she tries to get her words out.
“m-iss y-you real, real- fuck- bad. mmph please- need you ho-home n-ow, babe, g-gonna cum, gonna cum, gonna cum,” she rambles, her voice getting higher as she gets more lost in the sensations.
her back flies off the bed, hips bucking animalistically as she chants your name loudly, fingers still moving at lightning speed.
“miss you,” she whines quietly now, catching her breath and pouting as she slides her fingers out of her raw pussy, before hitting send with her not cum-coated hand.
yes this was short asf. n what about it? i banged it out in a zoooooom. ;)
#wlw#lesbian#tlou#ellie williams#tlou2#the last of us#abby anderson#smut#ellie tlou#ellie williams smut#ellie williams fanfiction#ellie williams fanart#ellie williams tlou#ellie williams the last of us#ellie x reader#ellie smut#tlou ellie#ellie the last of us#lesbian ellie williams#ellie williams fanfic#ellie williams imagine#ellie williams x reader#ellie willams x reader#ellie williams headcanons#loser!ellie#seraphicsentences interacting w her girls
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What a Mess || CL16
Pairing: Charles Leclerc x fem!reader Summary: After the disastrous start to the Brazilian GP, Charles needs an outlet Warnings: 18+ only, NSFW, smut, oral, rough sex, choking WC: 1.3k
Charles didn’t say a word as he navigated his way through the garage to you. His team patted his back and offered words of consolation but he didn’t feel them, he didn’t hear them. All Charles needed was an outlet for the blood pulsing through his body with all the rage of an inferno.
You were on your feet as soon as you saw him round the corner and though you couldn’t see his eyes through the visor of his helmet you knew that they would have darkened with the storm of emotions ravaging him. He didn’t stop as he reached you, merely reaching out after ripping the glove off his hand and grasping your upper arm to tow you along with him.
“Charles, I’m so sor-”
“Don’t,” he spat, the tone clipped and acerbic. “Don’t say another word.”
You kept your lips closed and nodded as you let him guide you out of the sight of his team. The garage wasn’t as permanent as some of the other tracks, with temporary walls erected from thin materials, so silence was needed when he shut the door to his driver room. You watched as Charles grabbed a chair and shoved the metal back up under the door handle before testing its durability.
Your fingers were already reaching for the zipper at the side of your dress as he tugged his helmet off his head and let it fall to the concrete floor with a crack. He tugged his balaclava off next and dumped it next to your dress at your feet as you reached for him. For a moment he closed his eyes and let you cradle his face, the lack of crease lines on his cheeks showing just how little he spent wearing the protective gear. You would do anything to see Charles race again - really race, like he did last year.
Somehow he still had hope for next year.
But what he needed now, well, Ferrari couldn’t give that to him. Only you could give him what he needed. An escape.
“Turn around,” he whispered as he caught your hands and pulled them away from his face. “Bend over.”
You complied in an instant, eager for the pleasure he promised and the high he was chasing. Your hands spread across his massage table as you pressed your front down onto the cold black vinyl and heard the velcro snap of his collar before the zipper was dragged down his race suit.
“Don’t make a sound,” he breathed across your skin and you shivered with delight as dropped to his knees behind you. “Fuck, you’re already so wet for me.”
His palms grasped your ass, roughly massaging them as he watched you squirm on the table impatiently. Next came his teeth, a chuckle following the bite to the sensitive skin at the back of your thigh as your back stiffened with the sounds you barely suppressed. His strong hands pushed your stance wider and his breath was heavy at the sight before him.
Finally. Finally, he buried his head between your legs and dragged his tongue along your slit. You couldn’t hear his moan when he tasted you but you could feel the vibrations on your core and your nails nearly pierced the vinyl at the sensation.
Charles worked you into a frenzy with his lips, his teeth, his tongue. He wasn’t happy until your legs could barely hold you without buckling and your silence was broken with a muffled cry. One orgasm rolled into the next and you lost yourself in the heady feeling, your mind empty save for the man who rose to his feet behind you.
“You’re a mess,” he whispered in your ear as he draped his body over yours, pride thick in his tone. You relished the weight that pinned you in place and the warmth of his skin on yours, barely being able to remember when he had stripped his fireproofs off. Charles’ hand fisted your hair and turned your head to crane back enough to see his green eyes jaded. “You’re a mess, just like me.”
Whatever argument you might have put up was swallowed by his kiss and it was just as messy with teeth and tongue. You melted at the growl he gave as he won the fight for dominance as he always did and a hand slipped between your bodies as he lined himself up with your entrance.
“Putain,” he swore as he reverted back to his native tongue. Your neck was still strained and the ability to talk or even swallow was almost impossible but still a strangled sound escaped as he snapped his hips and filled your cunt with one hard thrust. “Shhh, ma chat.”
You tried, you really tried, but your brain was no longer connected to your body as he fucked you into a mindless state. Your eyes rolled back into your head with each long stroke and your ability to breathe was lost when he bent his knees and somehow found a deeper angle.
There was no hope of keeping quiet when he found the sweet spot deep inside you and whatever he saw on your face had his hand curling around your throat. The sound that was building deep in your chest was choked with his tightening fingers and your heartbeat began to throb in your ears.
Your head spun and your body reacted, your hips bucking and your core tightening. Just when you thought you were going to have to reach for his hand, his fingers loosened and your lungs gasped for fresh air before it was stolen again. He knew what you could handle, and you knew you could trust him. He needed this as much as you did. He needed to be in control of something when it seemed everything was out of his reach. You were more than willing to let him control you.
This time when your orgasm came your cunt clenched tight around his cock and he trembled at the feeling. He called you his vice, in every sense of the word, and he relinquished the control he had yearned for as he lost himself in his own blissful release.
For a few moments he just lay there, draped across your body like a comforting blanket but all too soon the noise of the world around returned to your drumming ears and reality drew him from you.
“Why the fuck am I so unlucky?” he asked as he swiped his clothes from the floor, but you weren’t sure if he was asking the universe, himself or you.
“There’s no such thing as luck, Charles,” you answered anyway. His eyes flicked to you and watched your skin disappear beneath the dress you pulled back on. “Ferrari is unreliable. If you want to change your ‘luck’, start with changing your team.”
“You know I can’t do that,” he sighed. He kicked the chair aside that blocked the door before opening it and brushing his sweaty hair back into place. “I’ll see you tonight?”
He shouldn’t have had to ask and his insecurities only made you sad as you stepped closer to him. You caught his chin between your thumb and forefinger, tipping his head down so you could see your reflection in his eyes. “I’m not going anywhere.”
His smile almost chased away the shadows on his face before he kissed you, soft and gentle this time. “I should go.”
“You smell like sex.”
He froze and realised he hadn’t even been thinking clearly enough to wash his face and after running his tongue over his lips he could still taste you. A real smile grew on his face and his head fell forward to touch yours with a laugh. “Oh my god, I told you I am a mess.”
“Yes, you are,” you agreed with a laugh as you closed the door again. “But this is a mess that I can help with. Come on, take a seat, it’s my turn to boss you around.”
#charles leclerc fanfic#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc imagine#charles leclerc x you#f1 imagine#formula 1 fanfic#formula one fanfiction#f1 rpf#f1 smut#charles leclerc smut
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make up sex w/ billy butcher ♡
billy butcher x fem!reader cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, daddy kink a/n: eeeee i'm so excited for the last episode
Weeks of torture lead to this. Almost a month of clipped tones and cold stares, fake smiles and pushing the line between love and hate. It all leads to nights like tonight. They were why you put up with all of it.
You and Butcher had a fight a couple weeks ago. It wasn't relationship ending, but it was more tense than most. Strained the two of you enough that the rest of the team could tell something was up.
But right now, you couldn't even remember what the disagreement had been about. Something with some recon assignment - he should've done this, or you should've been somewhere. It was currently lost in your mind because it was hard to care about anything else when the swollen tip of his cock was nudging against all the right spots inside you.
He had you on your back in his bed, his arms hooked behind your knees to keep you in place. You had your arms around his neck the best you could. You wanted him as close as possible. As much as he'd pissed you off, you really did miss him.
You missed the soft, syrupy headspace he could coax you into. The one that made you look at him like he hung the moon and stars and sculpted all the earth's mountains. The one you were in at this moment.
"Daddyyyyy," you whine for him, your arms closing tighter over his shoulders.
A breathy groan rumbles against your neck. It made him feel so fucking pathetic, but every time you said that it was like a spool of ribbon unraveled in his belly. The words that follow don't even feel like his own. It's like they've been carved into his consciousness by some divine being that ensures your pussy never strays too far from him.
"Daddy's here, baby. Daddy's right here. He's taking care of you."
Those mumbled reassurances have your walls constricting around him, trying to lure him further in and then lock him down there forever. He feels your thighs trembling so hard against his sides that they're practically vibrating. You needed this.
"Fuck, you're gonna push me out. Too fucking tight," he grunts.
"Nuh uh, daddy's too fucking big," you laugh and nudge the side of his head with your nose.
He glances over at you, chuckling at your dopey smile. His mouth lands on yours for a sloppy kiss. Your lips slide against one another with the momentum of his thrusts.
"Yeah? Or is flattery how you apologize, love?" he teases.
That gets a laugh out of you. "It's not flattery if it's true."
Your giggles are cut short by more of your own moaning, the sweet bursts of joy morphing into whiny cries. You try to roll your hips up to meet his pelvis, to get him even deeper, to get more friction on your throbbing clit.
If you were more lucid, you'd feel how smug he was oozing off of him. He took great pride in the fact that he could get you like this. That he could take you, totally capable and independent, and fuck you till you were whimpering daddy and rutting against him like it was all you were good for.
"You want it bad, don't you? I could probably sit still and let you just fuck yourself on my cock and get the same feeling," he murmurs.
That earns him a wild head shake from you. "Noooo," you plead, "Not the same as when daddy does it."
"Oh, not the same, hm?" he mocks, "Guess I have to keep going then. Can't leave you unsatisfied."
Your head bobs up and down as you nod. You were getting so close. It'd be plain cruel to tease you like that now. He was getting close too. The pulsating warmth of your hole was too much for him to resist much longer.
"Where do you want it, baby?" he asks mid-pump.
"Inside, daddy. Pretty pretty please. Need it inside," you beg automatically.
He'd have to be evil not to give you a creampie right now. Not after the weeks you spent abstaining from his cock. No, tonight you needed his load shot deep in your cunt.
"My girl," he coos and pecks your temple, "You need the reminder of who you belong to."
You nod eagerly. You needed the physical manifestation of the end of this fight. The ropes of his cum fired inside you would seal the deal.
So that's what he does. You squeal, and your entire body contracts as the bubble of euphoria inside you pops. Your hands scramble to grab at him.
"Daddy, daddy, daddy. Fuck, fuck, fuck," pours from your lips.
He strengthens his hold on you, presses you down so hard into the mattress that it's shocking the wood doesn't snap. He chokes out a loud groan and unloads himself inside you. His hips fuck against you in sharp bursts. His breaths come out in rough pants. As much as he loved what he did to you, what you did to him was a sight to behold as well.
When you've both come down, he rolls off of you. You both get the chance to breathe and cool down, before he tugs you close again and nuzzles the top of your head.
"You feel better now, darling?" he smirks against your hair.
"Mhm," you answer with a dreamy sigh, "Never gonna fight again."
#billy butcher x reader#billy butcher x you#billy butcher x y/n#billy butcher smut#billy butcher imagine#the boys x reader#the boys x you#the boys smut
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You get a very dumb cat that loves Simon
Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Gnreader and Beans the Cat!
Fluffy Fluff Corniness! 🌽
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• Being the long term partner to Simon 'Ghost' Riley definitely had its up and downs. One of the downs however is how lonely you'd get when he left for missions
• So after a particularly long Mission were your love was gone for months, you decided that a pet was a good way to help cope with the worry and hollowness.
• You'd gotten a cat from a shelter and had it for only a few weeks before Simon returned. One thing you had realized in the short time you had owned the cat was... he wasn't the brightest
• After returning from picking Simon up from the airport and sharing in more kisses then you knew was possibly Simon walked through the door with a happy sigh at being able to return home till he spotted the changes and the cat sitting dead center of the livingroom-
• "What the Hell is that thing?" He says gesturing to the feline staring up at him with his tongue hanging out.
• "I got a cat!" You say cheerfully, Gesturing to the feline he was staring at. Simon stares at the cat. Watching it blink one eye then another as he took a heavy breath.
• "His name is Beans!" You said cheerfully, Simon raiding an eyebrow at this. Before looking back at the cat and could clearly see there was no greater thought behind the damn things eyes as he meowed at him.
• Simon closed his eyes like he was trying to keep himself from either laughing or crying at the same time-
• "Fucken Hell-"
• He finds Beans to be a constant reminder that some creatures don't need brain cells to survive. The cat while sweet is a fucking idiot, it likes to stare at nothing get what you call 'Zoomies' at the most random times and it perplexes Simon how the damn thing survived more then a day. Especially when it clips a wall during one of these Zoomie moments and he has to turn away to keep from laughing.
• The only time he gets mad at it is when he's doing the Dirty with you and feels a pair of eyes staring at him. Turning his head to see God Damn Beans in the doorway staring at the two of you getting it on.
• "Damn that fucking cat-"
• After a few weeks home and with Beans, Simon wakes up from a terrible nightmare/panic attack. Panting as the shadows of his mind had creeped in on his dreams and plagued him with fear and reliving the worse in his life.. Getting up gently as to not wake you he ventures down to the living room to sit and watch TV to hopefully settle his mind just enough to sleep.
• He sighs still sweating from the panic attack and takes a seat on the plush old couch, Running his hand over his naked face as he tried to relax- feeling the itch to grab his balaclava just to add some security to his troubled mind. He heard the gentle sound of bells catching his attention as he watched Beans get up from his fluffy cat bed and walk to him.
• Jumping onto his lap Beans began to gently knead Simon's chest and stomach region. He remembered you saying this was called 'Making Biscuits'
• "Tryin' to comfort me eh?" He questioned as he gently began to pet the cat who was continuing its late night action.
• After a while of this which did distract Simon enough to feel the panic attack start to fade away, Beans curled up high on his chest and begun to purr loud and hard. Vibrating the whole man's chest like a old school massager.
• He felt himself start to relax as the gentle sound of purring began to lull him to sleep, his hand still on the back of the cat gently as he drifted off into a dreamless sleep.
• The next morning when you get up you walk downstairs to see Simon sitting on the couch with Beans still asleep on his chest, curled in a relaxed ball under his warm hand.
• You take at least 100 pictures of this.
• After that night Simon is more okay with the cat and Beans just adores Simon now. Following him everywhere and sleeping on the soldier at every opportunity.
#x reader#cod thoughts#cod ghost#cod x reader#ghost cod#cod mw2#cod mwii#ghost x reader#simon ghost riley#simon ghost riley x reader#simon ghost x reader#simon riley x reader#cod x gn!reader#cod x male reader#cod x female reader#ghost x you#ghost x y/n#ghost x male reader#call of duty imagine#call of duty#call of duty thoughts#call of duty ghosts
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Home Movie - Rafe Cameron One Shot
+18 Minor DNI
Rafe x Girlfriend!Reader
⭐️ republished ⭐️
+18 Minor DNI
🪄 Warning: SMUT & Swearing, Pet names, no use of Y/N, birthday sex, first-time anal fingering, unprotected p in v, oral (male receiving), recording a sex tape, hair pulling, Rafe talks you through it.
📖 You and Rafe spend some quality time together after your birthday celebration, where you catch all the fun on tape.
2.9k <- almost all smut oops
Reader’s POV:
Your fingers comb through the back of Rafe’s hair, making him groan. “You know how hard it is to get you alone, princess?” Rafe chuckles, breathily as you amble toward the grand staircase. His face melts into your neck; lips meeting your skin, making your head fall to the side. “I’m glad everyone could be here for you, baby.” He mumbles against your neck, working his way up to your ear, sending chills down your spine. “Fuck. I hate sharin’ you though.”
“And, I hate sharing you. Tonight was perfect, baby. Thank you. Seriously, this has been the best birthday ever.” Rafe pulls back slightly, meeting your gaze, his blue eyes sparkling. The corners of his rosy lips curl into a smile.
“That makes me so happy, sweetheart.”
Rafe sets you down, not losing contact, lowering himself to your lips. He kisses you deeply, consuming all of your senses. His rich cologne, the sweetness of his taste, and green apple Jolly Ranchers, he can help but snag from your purse. He moans into your kiss, music to your ears as the touch of his rough hands glides higher and higher up your bare legs. He backs you up against the wall, tongue tangling with yours.
“You still up for this?” He mumbles between kisses.
“Mmm… Mhmm.”
“You’re gonna look so good on camera, princess,” he rasps, the vibrations of his low tone tickle your ear, making you powerless. “Oh, I got you a gift. You wanna put it on for me? I’ll set up the camera.” You bite your lip and nod.
“After you, pretty.”
A smile rolls across your lips as you see the mess of gifts arranged on the counter, a spray of rose gold and blush-hued balloons lofted on the ceiling. “Rafe,” you sigh, happily as you take in the additional gifts added, a lovely bouquet of roses, your favorite pink wine, and a white apparel box with a red bow.
Rafe walks behind you, body pressing against your back, arms shrouded around your waist as you unfasten the satin, undoing the knot. You draw back the top, plucking out the tissue paper; letting out a sinful little laugh. There it sits, a VHS C resting on a nest of red lace lingerie.
Snagging the VHS you pass it to Rafe. He wastes no time, popping back the lid; pulling out the smaller cassette, jamming it into the camera. He turns back to you cupping your cheeks in his large hands, kissing your forehead, your nose, your lips. “Be a good girl and get dressed for me. Yeah?”
“Jesus Christ, princess,” he groans, lustfully as his bare chest presses flush with yours. “How are you so sexy?” Rafe whispers against your lips, deepening the exchange a moment later, claiming your lips in a passionate kiss. His fingers drift into your hair, pulling you even closer. You reach down, stroking your hand over his clothed cock. “Lemme see you.” He draws back to take a better look, moaning lowly as his eyes drink you in.
Rafe spins you under his finger, his darkened eyes trailing from the tips of your black heels to the top of your lace-trimmed thigh-high stockings. His finger traces the little straps, clipping your hosiery in place; following the line to the garter belt cinched around your waist.
“This is one selfish fuckin’ gift,” he chuckles, darkly.
“I love it, baby. I feel beautiful-”
“You are beautiful. Damn… You’re divine, angel,” he moans before you can say much more, lighting you ablaze.
“You ready?” Your hands rest lightly against his chest, feeling his heart racing underneath, matching your own.
“Haven’t thought about much else today, princess.”
“Neither have I,” you whisper as your lips brush against his, feeling the anticipation build.
His large palms circle the fullness of your ass. “Shit…” He groans, drawing out the word as his hand meets only skin. His arm reaches further around your hip, fingers skimming your ass, reaching as far as he can, the tips of his fingers swirling your arousal dipping into your entrance. “You don’t even have to take these off.”
“How ‘bout that?” You add, breathily, fanning the flame. He doesn’t respond, just a hungry stare as he picks you up, shifting the two of you to the mattress, looking like he could absolutely devour you. He reaches down, practically ripping the button of his slacks open, going on all fours toward you as you move back to the headboard.
He kisses your forehead, retreating on the bed. One snap open, then the next. Rafe unclasps your garter belt straps, peeling the stockings off your thigh and calf, kissing and kissing some more as he reveals more and more skin. His fingers never lose contact, landing on your panties again.
Rafe drops his hips thrusting and rolling his rock-hard bulge into you. You can feel the chill of the slick between your thighs making you release an eager whimper. “Need you,” you whine.
“You still wanna try, sweetheart?”
You nod rapidly at him before lowering your gaze, taking in his perfect form, tanned skin and thick muscles. His blonde fringe dusts his forehead, brushing against you as he continues to torture you with a few more hindered thrusts.
“I need you inside of me,” you breathe, tugging at his boxers, drawing them as low as you can before Rafe yanks them off completely. His hard dick stands straight, weeping at the tip. You wrap your hand around his thick shaft, swiping your thumb across his tip before taking it between your lips, purring at the taste.
“I’m obsessed with you,” he mumbles under his breath, his body tacking you to the mattress.
“Fuck. Me.”
“Anything for you. Hands 'n knees, sweetheart.”
You roll over underneath him as he rises on his knees, moving back slightly for you to assume the position. You rest your forearms on the bed, ass in the air.
“Like this?” You ask, looking over your shoulder, making his eyes roll back.
“Just like that,” he groans as he takes hold of your curves, spreading your cheeks slightly. You watch a devilish smirk stretch on his lips. His eyes drift to the camera, checking his angle, making sure to get the perfect shot.
He draws his hand back slapping your ass cheek, a satisfying clap cracks through the room. Rafe snares your hips, towing you closer. You relax your body a little more, the sway of your spine deepening.
Rafe’s rough fingers meet your clit, making you release a throaty moan. “Such a pretty pussy,” he groans as he works a little further back, toying with your entrance, running his fingers through your folds before slapping your cunt. “Always so wet for me.”
“I’m so wet for you,” you pant. “Please, Rafe. S-Shit-” You’re cut short by a new sensation, as Rafe rubs his thumb over your taut hole using your slick as lube. He runs a line of spit down, making you release a little gasp as he circles a little quicker before pressing it inside, making you clutch the sheets.
“Good?” A smile spreads on his perfect lips.
“So fucking good,” you moan. Rafe draws his finger out, pulling out a moan from your trembling lips. Rafe presses against you again, his pointer finger replacing his thumb.
“Want me to keep goin’?”
“Yes. Fuck, Rafe… Don’t stop,” you whimper.
You watch as Rafe wraps his fist around his dick as well. Your entire body starts to throb, heart banging in your chest as Rafe pumps his long cock at the same tempo as his finger, working in and out of you. A bead of precum drips from his swollen tip onto the comforter below.
Is he gonna fuck me too?
You feel heat spread across your already hot skin as he answers your question. His fat cockhead presses against your entrance, making your fingers twist in the sheets, gripping tight, eyes squeezed as he glides inside your pussy.
“O-Oh, Rafe. I- Mmm…” He sinks balls deep, the skin of his body pressed against yours, making you cry out. He lets you adjust to his size and the new sensation.
“Please…” You manage, wanting desperately for him to move.
“Gotta use your words, baby girl. There somethin’ you want?”
“Fuck me,” you whine.
“There’s my good girl,” he grunts, rocking into you at a familiar tempo, working his fingers in tandem with his thrusts.
“Oh my god,” you gasp, in ecstasy as he adds another, filling you fuller than before.
“Jesus Christ,” he huffs. Rafe curls his digits inside your ass, pumping both a little quicker, making you tighten around him more. “Feels so good, baby… G-Goddamn,” he pants between ruts.
“So good,” you cry.
Rafe’s palms the arch of your ass with his other hand, spanking your cheek before gliding it forward, forcing your body a little lower. He feeds off your whines and moans, searching for that perfect angle to send you over the edge.
“Right there,” you cry.
“Like this?” He asks in a taunting tone, using your words from before. “Right there, sweetheart?”
“Yes. Yes.”
A cocky smile spreads on his lips as he watches you carefully. The clapping of skin fills the room along with the lewd squelching of your cunt. “Faster,” you snivel.
“Mhmm?”
“Harder,” you plead through quivering lips, spit seeping out the sides of your mouth.
“Yeah?” He bullies. His hand takes a grip on your ass, rough thrusts with his fingers and cock making your body weak.
“Gonna cum.”
“Mmm… Squeezin’ me so tight. S-Shit,” he stammers.
You scream out his name, pussy fluttering around his length as you cum harder than you ever have before. Your toes curl tight, hands weaved in the sheets as you flood his cock with your release.
Your lashes beat to a close, muscles settling around him as his fingers pull out. “Mmm…” Rafe growls from behind you as his hand rounds your hips. He grinds his cock slowly, just rough enough to make the plush of your ass recoil.
“Felt so good, Rafe,” you mewl in exhaustion, feeling his hand sail up the bend of your spine, raking into your hair.
“You liked that, baby? You want more?”
“Yeah. Wanna make you cum, daddy.”
“Look at the camera for me, darlin’,” Rafe rasps, taking a tighter grip on your strands, guiding your fucked-out smile to the lens. You blink your eyes, doing your best to focus, ears ringing slightly.
“So fuckin’ beautiful… Holy shit,” he moans as he continues to fuck into you nice and slow. “I wanna go a little slower this time,” he whispers. “That alright with you, baby doll?”
“That’s perfect.”
“Come here, sweetheart,” he calls for you.
The pads of Rafe’s calloused fingertips skate up your thighs, finding your dripping cunt. He runs a few small circles on your clit as you scratch your nails up his thigh. He lets out a deep moan as you apply a little pressure, rolling his heavy balls in your small hand.
“Can you suck me clean, baby?”
“Fuck, daddy… Please,” you sigh, dreamily as you slot yourself between his strong thighs.
“Open,” he rasps, making you flatten your watering tongue. He inserts his thumb pressing down on it before inserting his cock nice and slow. “Close…” You wrap your lips around his length, feeling it strain on your tongue. “Suck, sweetheart.” You taste his essence, paired with a hint of your own.
“You’re lips look so pretty around my dick.” You take him to the back of your throat, sucking him off to the tip, eyes locked on his. “Co'mere, baby,” he croons, guiding you back in, kissing your lips, taking in the taste as well. His kiss is unhurried and deep, his tongue rolling slowly with yours, making you light-headed
Rafe pushes you back onto the bed, mounting you quickly, leaning his toned frame over your own. His kisses journey lower and lower on your body, kissing and re-kissing your skin, breathing in your perfume as his hands play as well.
His ringed fingers circle your breasts before pressing them together. He growls in satisfaction, kissing the mounds of your breasts. He flicks his pink tongue across your hardened nipple, sending chills across your body.
“Shit, baby. Look at you,” he sighs, marveling at your curves, pinching your nipples between his thumb and forefinger. He rolls your pebbled skin roughly making pleasure spur between your thighs, causing you to shudder out a breath. “Fuck. I love your body, honey,” he groans. Rafe crawls closer, a boyish smile on his lips as he lowers himself to your ear, the warmth of his breath making a flighty giggle flee your lips. “I’m fuckin’ your tits later.”
“Yeah,” you smile as you tuck yourself into his arms.
“Neither can I,” you breathe, spreading your thighs a little wider as he takes his shaft in his hand.
You watch as he slides his cock into you slowly, plunging in with the wetness of your first orgasm. “Fuckkk. That feels so damn good,” he groans. Rafe begins to roll his hips into you. You can see all of his muscles at work as he holds himself up with his forearms, his gold chain keeps cadence with his thrusts.
It’s the perfect pace, the perfect depth, allowing you to savor him, every vein, and ridge, the curve of his swollen head dragging against your sweet spot already.
You look down, watching as he stretches you out; cock glistening with your cum. “It’s like you were made for me, baby,” he pants, breathily, pulling you from your daze, back to his beautiful eyes.
“I am…” you whisper.
Rafe’s hand works up your arm, fingers intertwining with your own. “I love you.”
“I love you too, Rafe,” you whimper as he pins your hand above your head. His lips meet yours, kissing you passionately as he fucks you close.
Your nails scratch into his hair, making Rafe moan into your mouth. You dig your heels into the mattress, close not close enough as you meet his thrusts causing your skin to slap together.
He presses himself a little deeper making you wail. Rafe’s body trembles, hips hitching at the sound of your bliss fighting himself to maintain his slower pace.
“Feels so good, Rafe,” you cry.
“So, so good. Shit. I’m gonna be leaking out of you all night, sweetheart. That what you want?”
“Wanna feel you all night,” you sigh.
He chuckles darkly, his deep voice vibrates against your skin just below your ear. “My dirty fuckin’ girl.” Rafe grabs his pillow from beside your head, placing it underneath you, changing positions slightly.
He pumps into you, building up speed. Your body starts to tighten around him, your finish surely coming soon. He separates from you, gripping your hips, thrusting at a rapid pace.
“Fuck, Rafe,” you moan, fiercely.
“Are you close?”
“Yes,” you whine, making him smile.
“You’ll cum, princess, but not until I say you can,” he orders through jagged breaths.
“Oh, fuck!” You yell, loudly as he spits on your pussy, rubbing circles onto your sensitive bud. You grit your teeth, muscles strained as you hold back your pleasure. “I can’t take it-” You huff.
“You will,” he grunts. Your eyes slam shut as he brushes his fingers from side to side.
“Rafe, please!” You plead. He smiles, his hand moving quicker causing you to grip the sheets.
“Cum for me, princess,” he orders, and you let it all go.
“F-Fuck, Rafe,” you sob, feeling your release, thigh shaking, back arching. Your wetness leaks from your pussy as he continues to pound into you.
Rafe throws his hips, pulsing deep inside as he fills you completely, his cum bursting out the seams, wetting his bed below. He thrusts slowly, brows threaded tight, milking out his last bits of pleasure.
Rafe leans down kissing you softly. “That was amazing,” he whispers through his rapid breaths as you cup his sweat-sheened cheeks in your hands.
“Fuck. That was so good,” you gust, doing your best to catch your breath.
“Let me shut it off. Okay?”
You nod, nose brushing against his, kissing him gently as he draws out. “Forgot that was on,” you giggle as you enfold your naked body in sheets, watching as he saunters toward the camera.
“Me too, sweetheart. It’s perfect. This is fuckin’ perfect,” he hails, holding the little cassette between his fingers, carefully setting it back in the VHS. He walks away, running his fingers through his hair, his bubble-butt bouncing slightly with each step.
“Where are you going?” You giggle.
“Cake,” he answers, merrily, turning around with it in hand, sucking some pink frosting off his finger. “Tastes like your pussy.” You roll your eyes and smile as you nestle into his pillow. “I’m serious. Better even.”
“Better!” You gasp, playfully, pulling yourself up as Rafe climbs on. He situates you between his legs, dragging you back, leading you to relax on his chest, yanking the covers over you once more.
“Comfy?” He kisses your temple as he holds you close.
“So comfy,” you sigh, blissfully. Rafe grabs the cake, resting it on your lap digging into the dessert, giving you the first bite, then him.
“Happy birthday, sweetheart.”
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18+
Summary: Steve is jealous, and it has some delicious consequences.
Warnings: Language, dom!Steve, jealous!Steve, possessive!Steve, references smut, slight smut, and NSFW.
A/N: Hi, everyone! Slowly tryna edge back into this writing thing. Here’s some filth! Much love to y’all! ❤️
Steve Harrington is seething. The kind of grit your teeth until they ache, fists clenching knuckle white, nails leaving their printed shapes behind in the flesh of palms - type of anger. There’s a blazing inferno clouding the mossy embers within his eyes, dilating his pupils into an intergalactic abyss. He’s worked himself up about it since he saw his former best-friend (and your high school tormenter) Tommy H, flirting with you at the video store when he came back in from his lunch break earlier in the day. It built into undeniable stormy waters on his drive home, leaving him with a clear objective: claim.
You’re expecting this, especially the moment that you hear his car door slam moments later, knowing his cool demeanor at playing it off when he saw you trying to casually brush Tommy away, was all a smoke screen. Steve isn’t upset at you, that much is clear. But you are well aware that he’s probably going to need whatever is going to take place when he gets into the apartment. He needs to be this way right now, desires to stake his claim over you. His footsteps find the decorative welcome mat and his key slides into the lock.
Fuck. You want to sing, a ping pong of sensations firing off the walls inside of you, taking dents out internal flesh, pushing onto organs.
You can feel your heartbeat in your throat, perspiration slick against your thighs, among other things. You’re already changed for an evening at home — baggy sleep shirt, a pair of Steve’s tube socks, and panties. The sound of the door closing and his jacket as it’s rushed off his body, you clasp your hands together and wait at the entryway for him. Excitement doesn’t begin to cover how you feel, adrenaline coursing through your veins, prickling you with a specific electricity. Watching Steve’s messy hair (he’s definitely been tugging on it) makes itself known first, followed by his extremely tight jeans and long sleeved navy shirt - it makes you gulp into your initial reaction.
He smells so good. That musky odor of leftover cologne hanging just beneath the sweat of him. He’s staring right back at you now, hands finding his hips, nostrils flaring, brows pinched. My god, you can barely see the color of his irises. You’re wetting your lips when he speaks.
“Find a chair and get your ass in it.”
There’s a vibrating pulse between your legs that Steve can tell when you tighten your thighs together, nodding. He smirks, waving his massive palm towards your shared living room. He’s right on you, warm, breath on your neck, that delicious sound of his hands working on the click of his button and metallic clip from his zipper. His shoes hit the floor the moment that you pull up a simple easy chair you’d had in the reading area you’ve sat aside in the corner of your living room. Steve appreciates you working a little harder for his pleasure, versus just plopping into the lazy boy (not that he’d really mind either way) You’re such a good girl for him.
He kneels as you settle, flinging his shirt off and baring that scrumptious jungle gathered along his torso, silver chain nestled at his collar bone line. He’s hard, hand already in the elastic of his underwear, petting, rewarding himself to punish you. His spare hand parts your legs with a crude wideness, enough that you double over against his mouth, his knees pressing to your own, nose nudging your cheekbone until it finds the bridge of your own nose. His breath spray is faint compared to the scent of nicotine when his mouth parts (he’s been smoking to calm himself. it’s gonna be one of those nights where you know you won’t be walking tomorrow morning without a limp - god, you can’t wait), lips then pursing back together to kiss you on your mouth’s corner, before giving into you and stealing you into an overpowering, but welcomed kiss that captures the breath from your lungs.
Let Steve have your breath. They’re all his anyways. All of you belongs to Steve Harrington.
And as he meets your glazed over, fucked out line of sight, thumbpad grazing your jaw - he knows.
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Another request because you asked for them and ilysm!! Dilf!Anakin making the both of you late to a fancy dinner party for his work because you just looked so damn good in that dress that he couldn’t wait till later to have a taste <3
TW: at some point it contains sexual content, so if you're sensitive to that or don't feel comfortable with it, please do not read it for your own safety and comfort.
You knew that look all too well—the dark, heated gaze that signaled his intentions before his lips even moved. Anakin’s possessiveness was intoxicating, a force you could never resist. Deep down, you knew all your efforts to appear poised, to stay composed, would soon unravel like threads pulled loose, dissolving into nothing but a hazy memory.
"Anakin, we’re going to be late..." you murmured, your voice soft but edged with urgency. You clipped the diamond earring onto your ear, the delicate piece shimmering against your skin.
“Let them wait,” he whispered, the words sending heat coursing through your veins. His breath grazed your exposed shoulder as his lips ghosted along the curve of your neck, the touch slow, almost torturously gentle. “I need an appetizer before dinner.”
The quiet command in his tone set your pulse racing. Your breath hitched as you met his gaze in the mirror, those ocean-blue eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that made your legs weak. His arms tightened around your waist, possessive, his intention clear—he wasn’t letting you go anywhere.
Before you could process the shift, you found yourself pressed against the wall, your dress hiked up to your hips, one leg draped over his broad shoulder. His mouth was on you, his tongue lapping at your drenched core like a man starved, devouring you with a hunger that stole the breath from your lungs.
“Anakin…” you moaned, the sound of his name dissolving into a whimper as his tongue flicked deeper, teasing your folds. The pleasure was sharp, intoxicating, making your mind blur with need. “The party—”
“Fuck the party,” he growled against your slick heat. He spit directly onto your swollen clit, his lips wrapping around it as he sucked, harder, deeper. The sensation was electric, sending jolts of raw pleasure through your body.
More.
Harder.
You couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe—all you knew was him.
His grip on your thigh tightened, his fingers digging into your soft skin as his other hand slipped between your legs. His long, skilled fingers found your entrance, teasing before pushing one deep inside, curling against that sensitive spot that made you see stars and your toes scrunching
A broken moan tore from your throat, your hips arching into his mouth. "You like that, baby?" His voice was a low rumble, the teasing edge in his words sending a new wave of heat through you.
All you could do was nod, helpless under his touch, your hands bracing against the wall as if you could ground yourself from the storm he was creating inside you.
“Use your words,” he murmured "just like big girls do" his smirk evident in his voice as he added a second finger, stretching you. The pleasure was maddening, pushing you closer to the edge, your body trembling under his control.
“A-Ani…” you gasped, barely able to form his name.
“Damn, you taste so fucking good,” he groaned, his lips vibrating against your swollen clit, sending shockwaves of pleasure through you. The heat in your core coiled tighter, threatening to snap, your body spiraling out of control under his relentless assault.
You were already on the verge of breaking, your voice ragged as you pleaded, “Please, I need more...”
"Yeah, baby?" His voice was thick with lust, his fingers curling inside you with precision, dragging against your walls in a way that made your breath stutter. “Then come for me. Show me how good daddy’s tongue feels. Give me that sweet cream.”
Your breath caught, your entire body trembling as he doubled down—his tongue flicking against your clit while his fingers pumped harder, faster. The intensity was too much, pushing you straight into oblivion.
“Come on, sweetheart,” he growled against your wetness, his teeth grazing your sensitive bud, pushing you over the edge. “Cream all over daddy’s face. Be my good girl.”
The orgasm ripped through you, violent and all-consuming. Your legs shook, the pleasure so overwhelming you thought you might shatter beneath it. You cried out his name, your hands scrabbling for purchase against the wall as waves of ecstasy washed over you.
Anakin slowed, drawing out every last pulse of your release, savoring it. His fingers slipped from your trembling core, and he straightened, his eyes dark with satisfaction. He brought his slick-coated fingers to his lips, his tongue darting out to taste your juices.
“Sweetest nectar I’ve ever had,” he rasped, licking his fingers clean.
Your chest heaved as you tried to catch your breath, your legs still weak from the intensity of it all. Anakin smirked, that cocky, dangerous smile that never failed to make your stomach flip. With casual ease, he adjusted your panties, smoothing your dress back down over your hips like he hadn’t just wrecked you.
He glanced down at his watch, his expression annoyingly composed. “We’ll be fashionably late,” he said, as if he hadn’t just reduced you to a shaking mess against the wall.
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🥀🪄🎸
boxer!eddie, smut, lore/flashback. minors dni. contains: oral, male rec. kinda filthy idk i love it.
Eddie's hand held yours, taped and knuckles bloody after the fight. With the way he'd fought, jabs so hard they had you cringing, you were shocked at the way he held your hand so delicately.
"The medics need to check you out-"
"-I'm good." Eddie muttered around a busted lip.
You eyed him with annoyance. "Ed, just let them check you out. Your dripping blood everywhere-"
"-Later." Eddie muttered, nodding towards his manager, slipping into the empty locker room.
"Later?" You scoffed, eyes rolling in clear irritation. "Later after you bleed everywhere? I would rather you didn't ruin another shirt of mine with- What are you doing?" You frowned as Eddie turned the lock behind you.
"I won." Eddie said simply, tattooed chest still gleaming in a thick sheen of sweat as if for emphasis.
"I'm aware of that." Your tone clipped in annoyed confusion. "Why did you lock the door?"
"Because I won." Eddie's bruised lip curled in a half grin that had your body bursting with excited heat. "C'mon now, just go ahead an gimme my prize."
Your cheeks pricked with heat, lips pursing so you hoped he couldn't see how it made you fluster. It started two matches ago, your and Eddie's little 'game'. A drunken conversation from the night before as you flipped though a magazine, cooing over a diamond tennis bracelet.
"If I win this match tomorrow, baby, I'll buy you that goddam bracelet." Eddie had cooed, nearly sweetly with a touch of gravel that had you giving a nasally laugh.
"You win tomorrow, and I'll suck your dick as soon as you walk outta that ring." You had grinned back at him.
And when he did win, he kept his promise, and so did you. Dropping to your knees as soon as you got to the locker room, pressing him against the door and taking him in your mouth.
Eddie swore it was a good luck tradition now, one you had to keep up after a win- not that you minded.
You rolled your eyes, feigning annoyance that was entirely unconvincing as you dropped to your knees, fingers pulling at the knotted strings of his shorts.
Eddie's taped hands found the sides of your head, holding you as you licked a long stripe up the underside of his cock.
"Fuuuck, baby," Eddie groaned, head tipping back towards the cemented wall, chest stuttering when your lips wrapped around his head, tongue swirling around his leaking hole.
Bloody knuckled fisted your hair as you bobbed, swallowing his length, eyes rounding to look at him the way he loved- the way that drove him wild. Had his hips stuttering, grip tightening just to hear you whine, the vibrations making his abs clench until he was spilling down your throat.
His eyes half lidded, a lazy grin on his lips looking down at you while you swallowed, lashed batting deceptively sweet up at him.
You'd let the medic in after that, call them in with a love drunk gaze you hope they didn't notice. Eddie's own pupils blown, slumped against the metal lockers while they patched him up.
"I feel better already." Eddie would grin, winking at you.
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