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kutepik · 3 months ago

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Eyes on you - Part 2

(mdni 18+) Caleb is aware that you know about the hidden cameras all over his house. Now he’ll have to face the consequences of his actions once he gets home.

3k words. also posted on ao3!

Part 1 HERE (please read it for context)

Did you... Winked at the camera?

Did you... know? Were you aware of the cameras all along? And you did all that, knowing he'd be watching?

Caleb stared at the large monitor in his office like a maniac, replaying the part of the tape where you left your soaked panties on the bathroom door handle and looked directly at the hidden camera next to the painting in the hallway. He played the scene once more, pausing at the frame where you winked directly at him. Caleb's lips curled up into a sick smile. He could touch himself and cum right there and then, but you were clearly waiting for him at home to “relax”. Fuck, fuck, fuck. You were as fucking insane as he was. And that made him even crazier about you.

Flustered and in a hurry, Caleb left his office without explaining himself to anyone, determined to arrive in less than twenty minutes - no, ten if he ran over a few stop signs. It didn't matter how many tickets he got, he just had to be quick enough to find those panties still wet. And trust him, he would.

Now he found himself in that hallway, standing in front of the closed bathroom door with those panties between his fingers. He could feel the wetness and viscosity of your fluids against the soft fabric. It was so soaked that his fingers got wet enough to bring it to his lips and lick it like a hungry dog. It wasn't enough. Caleb brought the panties to his mouth and nose, sinking into their smell, taste and wetness. And that was the scene you witnessed when you opened the bathroom door, dripping from the shower and wrapped in a towel.

The lilac eyes of your oh, so dear friend Caleb seemed more violet in the dimness of that corridor. He looked at you like an animal, not a man. It was almost threatening, if you didn't know that this man would never be able to do anything to you - at least not something you didn't want him to.

At first, when you left the panties on the doorknob, the plan was to get Caleb into the bathroom, where you two could work out the sexual tension that had built up over the years. But now, here, with this man explicitly pleasuring himself with your used panties, obsessed, hungry, and unashamed to show it to you, all you could think about was how far he would go for you.

"Pathetic” you said, lifting your chin, your eyes locked on his. His pupils dilated as he heard you, his hand still holding your panties to his nose, as if he could not fucking stop smelling and feeling you in that dirty piece of cloth, even with you here, watching him and scolding him for it. "I knew you stole my panties in high school," you muttered quietly, taking a step forward. "But you're still doing it as a full-grown man? Really pathetic" His erection was obvious "And what about those cameras? Hm?" You pushed your hand against his, suffocating him with the panties he smelled like a pervert. Caleb smiled while groaning under the fabric, breathless. "Did you think I wouldn't find out?" You pushed him, your hand still over his nose and your panties, making him stagger backwards and through the bedroom door that was opposite the bathroom in the hallway. With one last push, Caleb fell onto the bed, his elbows supporting him, and you took the opportunity to grab your panties back. He panted like a dog after his favorite toy, forcing you to put a knee between his legs — against his hard-on — to prevent him from moving.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he groaned, rubbing his clothed cock against your leg. “I- you're driving me crazy-" he gasped, holding your thigh "Literally. All I think about is you, all I want is you, all I..." He panted, still thrusting against your bare skin like a pervert. You pressed your knee down harder, making him moan louder and stop moving.

"Since when did you install the cameras?" You waved your panties in front of his face like a tempting reward. "Hm?" You brought the fabric close to his nose and pulled before he could grab it.

"Ever since you came back to Linkon and told me you were coming to see me," Caleb leaned his head against your stomach, like a devotee holding onto their god. "I just wanted to see you when I wasn't home, Pipsqueak. I just want to make sure you're safe." The Colonel's rough fingers curled into the fabric of the towel wrapped around your damp body, pulling you closer, secure in his embrace. "You're everything. Everything" He lifted his face, still pressed against your abdomen, staring at you with eyes that were now a deep purple.

"You say it like that was your only intention." You pulled his hair back, forcing him to pull away from you "But what about the cameras in the bathroom? The ones near the shower? Are they there to protect me?" He bit his lip and tried to pull you close again, but you pulled even harder on his hair. Caleb groaned, and even with the force that your knee exerted on the middle of his legs, you felt the abundant pre-cum against your skin.

"I told you, crazy. You drive me crazy, Pip. I want it all, to see it all, to touch it everything-" He dug his fingers even deeper into the towel. "I tried, I swear, I really did. But you're like a fucking drug. The panties weren't enough, I needed more." His voice was rough, like he was about to lose it, about to give in to his desires, but he kept fighting with everything he had.

"More." You repeated and loosened your grip on the back of his neck, bringing the same hand up to caress his face. With the other hand, you released your panties on the floor. Then, you moved to the knot holding the towel and loosened it, letting the fabric fall to your feet. "Like this?"

That was all it took for Caleb to sink his face into your stomach again, this time feeling skin on skin, covering it with mouth-open kisses. "Yes, yes, yes, fuck-" He sank his fingers into your flesh, bringing your mound against his lips. "Fuck, yes, like that," he said, almost desperate.

"I'll give you what you need." You replied in a sweet tone and lifted the leg that had been caging against his cock to rest on the bed. This gave Caleb full access, and he understood the message. He started eating you out like a starving man who hadn't eaten in days. His tongue sank between your wet flesh, up and down, while his nose circled over your clit, soaking in your scent as if his life depended on it. One of his hands that had been holding your waist went down to your dripping pussy, and Caleb ran his fingers into your folds, wetting them with your juices. Suddenly, you felt his calloused, lubricated fingers enter you, curving as they fucked into you deliciously.

"Thank you," he whispered as he kissed and licked your clit non-stop, at the same time as he fucked you with his fingers at a frantic pace. The whole situation had already turned you on, and the way Caleb fucked you with his fingers was too intoxicating for you to last long. Soon, your thighs started trembling, betraying the orgasm that was about to come. "Princess, please, please, come on my fingers, please," he begged, desperate, as he increased the speed of his thrusts and the movements of his tongue against your sweet nub.

"Caleb!" You grabbed his hair again, trying to keep his face away from the squirt of your orgasm, but he grunted and stayed between your legs, drinking every drop.

"You think I wouldn't want you to come all over my face?" He stuck out his tongue and licked your pussy again, looking at you obscenely. "I fucking dreamt about this for years. God, you're perfect." He kissed your belly again and nuzzled his face there.

"You're really crazy." You grabbed his face, watching his drunken, cum-slicked smile. He seemed satisfied with it, as if your pleasure was all that mattered, and in fact, Caleb could die now, and it would be more than enough. But that wasn't enough for you. Not at all. During the time he was supposedly dead, if there was one thing you had learned, it was how much you regretted not having done more. You put yourself through hell, thinking about what might have happened if you'd just admitted that you knew about his crush on you, or that you knew about the hidden panties, or that you'd heard him masturbate countless times and call your name when he thought he was alone. You spent sleepless nights back then, thinking about what Caleb would do if he found out that you liked this, this obsession, this devotion, and worse, you felt that way about him too. You were obsessed, crazy, and attentive to him and what he did for you and to you. Now that he was back to you and had made his intentions clearer than ever, there was no point in hiding.

"Take your clothes off." Your eyes lit up as you stared at the large stain in the middle of his pants. That wasn't just pre-cum. He came just from eating you out. Crazy bastard.

Caleb pulled off his clothes carelessly, as if he couldn't believe what was happening. "Are you sure? I mean, I don't really need you to do anything. It already feels really good just to have had the chance to eat you out and make you come." You could tell he was holding back, and it made you angry. You wanted all of him, everything, completely honest and true, to you and to himself.

"Caleb." You climbed on top of him, rubbing your wet pussy perfectly against the length of his throbbing and once again erect cock. Caleb moaned with pleasure, bringing his eyes down to meet your folds as you licked his cock clean. "You can do whatever you want to me." Your hips moved back and forth slowly. "I love that you're fucking insane about me..." You both moaned as your clit rubbed against his swollen tip. In one smooth motion, you lifted your hips slightly and held his hot length, rubbing the throbbing head over your clit, using his cock to please yourself.

"Oh my god, that's so fucking hot," he cried as he began to thrust against your clit, moaning loudly along with you.

"Caleb, I love that you're insane about me, because I'm just as insane as you are, and for you." With another roll against his tip, your lips let out a loud moan that was soon interrupted by Caleb's rough hands pulling you into a kiss. It was dirty and unceremonious. Your tongues met obscenely and without shame.

"I-I can really do whatever I want? You sure?" He said between kisses, lowering one hand to your ass and the other to your soaking cunt.

"A-Ah! Yes! Please." You felt him thrust his fingers into you again, fucking you. The noise was wet, erotic, and your moans mingled with your panting breaths.

"I want to fuck your pussy with my cock, please, please, please - I know you said I can do whatever I want, but I want to hear you tell me that I can, and that you want it as much as I do. I want to fuck you stupid and make you come again and again and again and fill your pussy with my cum to the brim," he said against your ear, spreading kisses as he continued to push his fingers inside you without stopping.

"I want you inside me. Fuck." You whimpered at the speed of his fingers. "I want your cock, I – I want you." Your lips came together again in a hasty kiss.

He thrust his curved fingers in harder, eliciting an obscene sound from you, before pulling them out. "I'll give you what you want. I'll give you anything, anything you want." Caleb ran his wet fingers over his own throbbing cock and held it, slapping it against the folds of your sensitive pussy. With his other hand, he lifted your hips just enough to bring his cock closer to your hole. He let out a loud sigh as he circled the tip over your entrance, feeling you, soaking into your juices. Then, in one smooth motion, he thrust in and reached your bottom. You swallowed him whole at once, both moaned in unison. This was just insane.

"Are you okay? Are you feeling okay?" He said, breathing heavily, his eyebrows scrunched up, violet eyes searching your face for any sign of discomfort. You smiled and relaxed your hips a bit more, lowering yourself enough to feel him balls deep into you. "Oh my god, you're so fucking good, you're taking me so deep. God, you're so tight—so perfect for me." Caleb looked so happy, finally being able to feel you, to be inside you, to fuck you. The two of you stared at each other breathlessly, still, savoring the sensation of being connected like this for the first time. "Look at you," he said, moving his hands up to your breasts and caressing them. "I need to fuck your breasts, cover them with cum, bite them and suck them..." Caleb murmured in a trance as he ran his hands over your body, imagining the possibilities. He brought his fingers up to your mouth, and you opened your lips and sucked his index and middle fingers. "I need to fuck your mouth too... I've imagined you sucking me off and me slapping my cock against your pretty cheek just to paint your face with my cum. I bet you'd look so beautiful." You moaned with his fingers inside your mouth. He withdrew the wet digits and guided them into his own mouth, sucking on them.

You couldn't take it anymore, so you threw your torso back, leaned on his knees with your hands, and started rolling back and forth, riding him. Caleb watched as your pussy swallowed his throbbing cock up and down. "Holy shi- Yeah, just like that, fuck- like that." He brought his thumb to your sensitive nub and started stimulating it in slow, circular motions.

"A-Ah, instead of thinking about what you are going to fuck, why don't you concentrate on this?" You teased, lifting your hips just enough to reach the sensitive head of his cock, only to slowly roll over.

"You are- " Before Caleb could finish, you sank down again and started fucking yourself on his cock at a faster pace. Caleb threw his head back and cried out, moaning your name like a mantra. "'Holy fucking shit, where did you learn that?!" Before he could think too much about how you had acquired your sexual skills, you decided to hit him with another brutal ride. He groaned again, gripping your hips tightly. That would leave a mark

"Better than you imagined, huh? When you touch yourself thinking of me." You said breathlessly, without stopping the movement of your hips. Caleb lifted his face to look at you, his eyes full of water and his mouth swollen from biting down to hold back his moans.

"Are you kidding? Fuck. There's no comparison." He rubbed his thumb against your clit again, encouraging you to roll over more, seeking more friction. "Ah- Ah, yes! Good girl, use me however you want, fuck me, please." His finger followed the increasingly rapid speed of your hips, almost violently, abusing your already swollen spot from another orgasm. "Please, please use my cock however you want, fuck, sit on it, cum on my cock, please"

"C-Caleb- Ah, ah, Shit!" You were breathless at the way he rubbed your clit, and suddenly, you stopped riding, sitting on him with your legs trembling, as you felt the orgasm come for the second time, wetting his cock with your liquid again. Your walls were contracting non-stop against his member, making him curse loudly.

"Fuck, you're so hot, squirting all over my cock, so fucking pretty.” He moaned, eyes filled with lust as he absorbed the vision of his cock soaked from your juices, “You're going to drive me crazy squeezing me like this, shit-" He suddenly pulled your torso into a tight embrace, pressing your breasts against his chest as he began to thrust into you like a savage animal. "I'm sorry, I really can't hold it anymore," he bit your shoulder as he rammed into you with all his might, fucking and fucking you deep and dumb. Your sweaty skin seemed to melt and fuse together, and it was almost as if you were one. "You're so beautiful, so perfect. Your pussy was made to be fucked by me and only - shit - by me." He hugged your back as you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling you two as close as possible. "You were made. for. me," he punctuated the words with each thrust, and took on an erratic rhythm.

"I was. And you for — Ah! Me." You said, burying your face in his neck, and it was like a trigger: Caleb's legs started shaking, and his cock started throbbing, shooting his load inside you, over and over again. You both groaned loudly and hugged each other even tighter, as if that were humanly possible. The two of you stayed like that, hugging, soaked, stuck together, panting, and even after a full minute you could feel Caleb's cock twitching inside you, releasing one last hot spurt.

After a bit of quiet time to catch your breath, you began to laugh and planted a few kisses on Caleb's sweaty neck. Carefully, you lifted your face to look at him. He had his eyes closed and a smile on his face.

"Hey, Colonel, how's it going?" You said, your voice hoarse and tired. Caleb let out a quiet "mm-hmm" of approval. "Can you let me go now? We're disgusting." You looked down, feeling the sweat that glued your breasts and belly to his chest and abdomen. Caleb wrapped his arms around you and kissed your forehead.

"I'll never let you go," he said with a smile. You laughed and nuzzled your face against his neck again. You stayed like that, together, your breathing calming down and your heartbeats synchronizing. Suddenly, something popped into your head.

"Hey, how long do these cameras keep the recordings?" You whispered, and Caleb shivered. You looked at him again, and he opened his eyes, his pupils getting bigger again.

"I don't know... A few hours, or days, maybe." He stroked your back, lost in thought. "Do you want to see?"

You laughed and stared back at him, "Absolutely."

#lads caleb #love and deepspace #caleb x mc #caleb x you #caleb x reader #caleb xia #fanfic #lads smut #kutepik #caleb smut

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the-shedevil-writes · 24 days ago

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Polaroids (Bob Floyd x Reader)

DESCRIPTION: Bob keeps your relationship private, but he doesn't try to hide the dozens of Polaroids of you all over his locker and truck. He has a daily routine of taping his favorite Polaroid of you to his jet's console, but when it goes missing, things get chaotic. Luckily, you're there to make everything better. WORD COUNT: 2.3k WARNINGS: Bob gets angry in this one, folks. Cussing. Fighting. Hangman's an asshole- sorry. MY MASTERLIST - READ ON AO3

Bob didn’t like talking about his relationship. It’s not that he wasn’t proud of her, or that he felt ashamed. But in fact, the opposite. He’d seen these animals, he’d call co-workers, and how they’d treat girls. Granted, the squadron he was with now wasn’t so bad. Rooster, Hangman, and Fanboy were hard flirts, but they had basic decency. He never felt embarrassed by their behavior when they went out to the bars, and they’d try and pick up a girl. If they were successful, they celebrated. If they weren’t, they’d walk away and move on.

But it was his past experiences with other pilots. Locker room talk always rubbed him the wrong way. He did his best not to judge these guys. He had those thoughts, too, but he had heard too many dehumanizing things said about women he knew and didn’t. So he preferred to keep his gorgeous girlfriend, Y/n, under wraps, even if he did trust his current friends.

They preferred to keep their lives separate anyway. With Bob having his work and friend group, and Y/n having hers. It kept their conversations interesting, as they had their own lives to discuss, not just their shared one.

The Dagger Squad, of course, would try and pry any information out of him. All they knew was that he had a girlfriend. Half the time, they’d forget what her name was because they had never met her, and Bob preferred not to talk about her, for fear they’d ask to see her.

He was surprised they didn’t notice the Polaroids. Taking pictures of his girl was his favorite thing to do besides flying. He wasn’t exactly a photographer. But he made good use out of the instant Polaroid camera she got him for Christmas. It was so much better than taking pictures on his phone because he could hold the memory in his hand. The light and the moment were captured and printed instantly just for him.

They were stuck everywhere. Photos over the years were plastered all over the inside of his locker. In his phone case was a picture of her wearing his glasses. And in the fold-out mirror of his truck was a photo of her taken off guard in the kitchen that she hated, but he loved. The one of her kissing his cheek was usually tucked in the front pocket of his flight suit. They all served as reminders of what he had waiting for him once his shift was over. His best friend and the most beautiful woman he had ever seen in his whole life.

His favorite was the photo he taped to his control panel every day. It was a little beat up, naturally, but he made sure to keep that one in the best condition it could be. It was his good luck charm- the first Polaroid he had ever taken of her. It was Christmas morning, and she sat next to the lit tree, in his old Lemoore High School shirt that she had stolen for herself. She hugged the frankly huge teddy bear that he had gotten her. While the lights on the tree sparkled in the photo and cast a golden glow on her smiling face. For some reason, when he had it, the missions went better. The days went by more easily when he got to see his girl’s face after a stressful hiccup in flight.

It had been a long and grueling day flying under the sweltering sun. They had been training for a strike mission, and the dogfighting exercises had left him drenched in sweat, and owing Maverick 200 push-ups. Thanks, Payback, for the BRILLIANT idea. And thanks, Hangman, for doing what he did best- leaving him in the dust and pushing his buttons.

After an almost embarrassing amount of time, he walked back to the locker room with biceps so sore they screamed. He unzipped his flight suit and took his glasses off, using the white shirt underneath to clean the fog and sweat off them. He couldn’t wait to go home and find his girlfriend in her study, working. And he especially couldn’t wait to bug and distract her from all of it.

That’s when the sense of dread hit him, and he realized. He quickly checked all his pockets. Yes, the one of her kissing his cheek was there. But his lucky charm wasn’t in any of the other pockets. He rushed to climb out of his flight suit and scrambled to throw on a random shirt and shorts from his duffel. He couldn’t leave it in the jet. Who knew what maintenance would do if they found it? They’d probably just throw it away.

Throwing on his backpack, he sprinted back down to the hangar. He didn’t even notice the whole squadron standing around talking. He didn’t care. All he wanted was his favorite picture and for this horrible day to be over with.

The sunset shone on his forehead, exacerbating the glistening stress sweat. He quickly climbed the ladder onto the Super Hornet and looked inside the backseat interior. The only place it could be. And when he looked at the spot between the radar and the comms control, he put his face in his hands. It wasn’t there. The memory of the Christmas lights and the bear was missing.

“Fuck.” He said to himself. It was hard to get Bob to curse, but this felt like an appropriate occasion.

Then Hangman’s voice rang out behind him.

“Hey Baby on Board! You sure this isn’t a picture you found on Google?”

Bob’s head whipped back to find Jake Seresin holding the photo. On one hand, he was just grateful that someone had found it. On the other hand, out of all the pilots, he wished so deeply that it wasn’t Hangman.

He quickly climbed down the ladder. “Give me it back, please.” He said exasperated, and walked towards him.

Jake held the photo up so that Bob couldn’t get it. Neither of them was short, but Hangman was just slightly taller.

“I’m not kidding.” He said, trying his best to keep his cool. It took a lot to make Bob angry. He was typically level-headed and able to logically think things through. That’s why he was a WSO Top Gun Graduate, and not necessarily a pilot. But right then, his whole day had been building up inside him, and this was the one thing he didn’t mess around with.

“I just can’t believe that a babe like this is with a guy like you. Really, you should let me call her up.” He said teasingly with a smile. After leaving Bob and Phoenix stranded, AND doing this, Bob was at the end of his rope.

“Hangman, just give him back the photo,” Phoenix voiced with her arms crossed. She and Rooster watched the whole interaction, which just made him feel worse. This was humiliating. It was like they were boys in a school yard- which Bob would say was an apt description of most of the people he had worked with in the past.

He reached up for the photo and finally got a grip on it, but Hangman didn’t let go.

“I just think it’s funny! I wanna look at it. I think there’s more in his locker, too.”

“Just let go, Hangman.” His voice was less whiny and more serious now.

“No!” He grinned.

The two tussled and grabbed at the photo. It felt like a moment that was way too long. Until eventually they each pulled in a different direction, twisting it. It completely bent. Thankfully, it couldn’t rip because of the type of film, but the photo itself was fairly distorted. Bob’s heart beat out of his chest, and it was like his stomach twisted the same way the photo did.

He suddenly let go of the photo and pushed Hangman so hard he stumbled back, surprised. The photo slapped onto the pavement.

“YOU FUCKING ASSHOLE,” Bob said, following after him, ready to beat the shit out of him. Even though at first glance, most people would believe that Hangman would win in a fight between the two. It didn’t quite look it at the moment with the anger in Bob’s eyes and his arms pumped from the earlier push-ups.

Rooster quickly ran over and grabbed his shoulders, pulling him back. “HEY HEY HEY!”

Phoenix ran over and did the opposite, pushing her hand against Hangman’s chest, though he didn’t try to move forward. He knew he was in the wrong here, and it was clear by his guilty expression.

“Bob, man, calm down,” Rooster said. They all looked at him, surprised. Timid, awkward Bob was… kinda scary when he was pissed off. His glasses slightly crooked and red in the face. Maybe it was just strange to see him so out of control.

He slowly pushed Rooster off of him and walked over, grabbing the crumpled photo on the ground. After a failed attempt at straightening it out, he put it in his pocket and walked off, steaming.

That night, when he got home, he slammed the door. He was never the type to do that, but he felt so defeated. His duffel bag dropped to the floor uncaringly.

“Bob? Is that you?” Y/n called out from the study.

He sighed, a little relieved. “Yeah. Yeah, it’s me.” He said, his voice almost completely flat. That wasn’t normal. He’d usually meet her in the study, but at the sounds of distress, she quickly came out.

She walked out to find him hanging up his sweatshirt with a depressed look on his face. His usual smile was replaced by a small, tense frown, and his shoulders were high and stiff. Something was very wrong.

“Oh, baby.” She said, walking over, “What’s wrong?” Her voice was so gentle.

He sighed and quickly wrapped his arms around her. “I’m sorry. I need to shower,” He said, not having gotten the chance to on base. But he still squeezed her, needing the support dearly.

She shook her head against his chest. “What happened?” She knew he was trying to avoid it.

He stepped back and pulled the bent photo out of his pocket. “Hangman happened.”

She gasped at the sight of it in his hand. “Oh no… Is this a man or a dog we’re talking about here?” She asked confused, and that made him laugh a little. He was already so grateful to be home.

“Man. Though he definitely acts like a dog.” He groaned.

She gently took the photo from his hands. “I can try and fix it. Straighten it out. There might be a crease still in it, though.” She tried her best to flatten it out like he did, but to no avail.

He shook his head. “You can try, but I doubt it’ll be okay.”

That answer was so depressing, she looked up and tilted her head. “Hey, we’ll get it back to normal. I’ll look it up. How about you go shower and eat? I made pasta cause I was too lazy to be a real chef tonight.” She tried to lighten the air. “Then you can tell me all about your day.”

He sighed in relief. “You’re too good to me.” He said softly, pulling her in for a much-needed kiss.

And that’s exactly how they ended up sprawled on the couch, each with bowls of penne and vodka sauce. On the coffee table, the photo lay on a piece of wax paper and was buried under some thick fighter jet manuals Bob had.

“It was just like the whole day had been building up in me. Payback’s bet. Hangman leaving me and Phoenix dead in the water. The two hundred push-ups. And the photo going missing in the first place drove me crazy. So when he bent it, I just… exploded a little.” He admitted, almost ashamed to have lost control.

She sighed. “That’s okay. It was natural after all of that.” She reassured gently, reaching for his calf and squeezing it. “This Hangman guy sounds like a real douche.”

“Understatement.” He said, but he was feeling better talking through it all with her. “I just hope that the photo is okay. You know it’s my good luck charm, and if it’s not flat, it won’t stick to my console very well.”

A small smile appeared on her face. “It’s under some of the thickest books I’ve ever seen. If it’s not flattened, then that’s just defying gravity.” She said.

He exhaled again, relaxing, and it was like the tension in him completely dissipated. “You’re right.” He said gently.

“Hey, maybe after today he’ll leave you alone.” She suggested.

He scoffed, “Hangman? I give him less than a week before he starts using you against me.”

She chuckled and set her bowl down so she could lie down against him. “Hmmmm, gotta get you enrolled in anger management classes then.” She teased.

He kissed the top of her head. “You’re funny.” He said sarcastically.

The next morning, he woke up at the crack of dawn per usual. He slowly slipped out of his girlfriend’s grasp, and she whined, half asleep. Their typical routine. He gently leaned down, ran his hand over her hair, and kissed her forehead. “Go back to sleep.” He whispered, and she subconsciously did so.

He got ready in his khaki uniform and walked out to the living room. On the table were the stacks of manuals. He very carefully took them off one by one and set them on the couch to soften the noise. Checking on the Polaroid, he sighed in relief as it was flat again. A small crease was across the middle, but at the very least, it was flat. He turned it around and saw something new. On the plain white back of the photo was a lipstick kiss mark over the folded line. In the tiniest pen was ‘A kiss to make it better’.

And the biggest smile grew on his face. This was better than he could’ve asked for.

Now he didn’t just have a good luck charm, but also a kiss to remember her by.

#bob floyd #lewis pullman #lewis pullman fic #robert floyd #robert floyd fic #top gun #top gun maverick #top gun maverick fic #bob floyd x female reader #bob floyd x reader #bob floyd fic #robert bob floyd #bob floyd fanfiction

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techpatriotreview · 1 year ago

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slmckle · 7 months ago

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RAFE AND HIS WEIRD FUGGLER OBSESSED!GF!!

Rafe always knew his girlfriend was weird, but the day she bought the most vile, weird, grotesque stuffed animal was the day he knew she was superrr weird, but he loved her, nonetheless.

YOUR POV:

you were at the store with your boyfriend's sister, Sarah Cameron. she was the complete opposite of him, but that was good. she was a super sweet girl who loved you like you were her own.

as you two walked down the aisles you came across a green stuffed animal with squinted eyes and... human teeth??

"Sarah, look at this!" you said before turning to face Sarah with the interesting stuffed animal in your hands. she looked at you with a face of horror and mock disgust.

"y/n, what is that?!" she asked before taking it from your hands, inspecting it in all its creepy glory. "I do not know, but I want it...!" you said with a grin on your face

you grab the stuffed animal back from Sarah and begin walking to the cash register to begin checking out.

as you and Sarah get into the car, you pull out the stuffed animal and grab one of the protein bars Sarah bought and slide it in his arms, so it looks like he's holding it. you slide your phone out of your pocket and open the camera app and take a picture of it. you then decide to send it to rafe with the title, 'look what i bought'

——————————————————————————

RAFES POV-ISH:

rafe was lying down in his bed, wishing he could spend time with you on his day off, but sarah had gotten to you first.

he was about to drift off to sleep until he felt his phone buzz under his pillow. he grabbed it, turned it on, and smiled when he saw it was from you, your name marked with a heart in his notification center.

but his smile quickly fades when he sees the most vile, sickening, and disgusting creature on his screen. his face scrunches up as he types a reply.

“WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT” he frowns when he sees your reply. “it’s your kid don’t be mean??” he then scoffs to himself before typing, “that thing is NOT my kid.” he’s loving this playful banter between you two.

he wears a smile on his face as he sets down his phone once again, letting himself drift off to sleep.

god, he loves you.

sorry this was short :((

tags: @maybanksprincess

#rafe obx #rafe cameron x reader #obx x reader #rafe cameron smut #outerbanks rafe #rafe cameron #rafe x reader #text post #fuggler #obx season 4 #outer banks #jj maybank x reader

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reveriebae · 21 days ago

Text

Send Nude?

pairing(s) : Mingi x reader

word count : 2332

summary : you were only kidding, he wasn't.

genre : smut

warning(s) : Online flirtation → IRL hookup, Mirror fingering, Vein kink (explicit worship), Cock worship, Dirty talk that will get you pregnant, Ass slapping, Doggy style, Praise + degradation mix, Spit, lube, cum mention, Choking (light), Hair pulling, Marking (handprints, cum inside), Slight overstimulation, After-sex banter & bratty backtalk, Mingi being hot and knowing it. Let me know if I missed anything!

A/N : SONG MOTHERFUCKING MINGI, I WANNA SIT ON YOUR FACE TILL YOU CAN'T FUCKING BREATH😤😤

Minors do not interact, 21+ only!!

🪐smut under the cut🪐

It starts with an Instagram story.

Not even a sinful one—well, not explicitly. Just Mingi, shirtless, post-gym, flexing in the mirror like he’s auditioning for an anime reboot of Magic Mike. Traps bulging, abs glistening, hair messy like he just rolled out of bed and into your fantasies.

But it’s the veins. The veins.

His arms look like god personally sculpted them to ruin your life. Thick, pulsing rivers of blood lust crawling from his forearms up to those thick biceps. The kind of veins that scream, "I can hold your legs open and still roll your eyes back with just two fingers."

And the worst part?

You’re mutuals.

You don’t know him, not really. But you’ve exchanged likes. A few meme replies. He once retweeted your selfie with a “👀” and that alone had you contemplating the circumference of his dick.

So when he drops that mirror thirst trap with a casual caption—

“gym got me feelin like a Jojo character today lol”

—you don’t think.

You just type.

"send nude?"

It’s meant to be funny. You’re high on vein kink and zero impulse control. You expect no reply. Maybe a like at most.

Instead...

fixon_n_on has sent you a message.

You blink. Your heart skips. You open it.

@fixon_n_on : you want it from the front or the back?

You almost throw your phone across the room.

You stare at the screen, face hot, mouth dry, thighs not. You're about to reply with something dumb like “LMAO chill I was kidding,” when a photo comes through.

Not a dick pic—he’s smarter than that.

It’s him, again, in the mirror. This time in sweatpants, low enough to show that dangerous V-line. His phone’s in one hand, the other pushing his waistband down just enough to reveal no underwear. His dick’s not out, but you can see the print. And it’s…

Well. Jesus wept.

@fixon_n_on : front. want the other too?

"You’re insane"

"You can’t just do this"

"I’m literally feral now. I hope you’re happy"

@fixon_n_on : send something back then.

I wanna see what I’m working for.

You panic.

But also? You're already halfway to your bedroom, lighting adjusted, camera propped up against your dresser. You pick your best lingerie—black lace, of course—and position yourself kneeling on the bed, arching your back, head turned just enough to show the smirk on your lips.

You send it.

And wait.

It doesn’t take long.

@fixon_n_on : oh you’re a fucking problem, stay like that.

@fixon_n_on : 10 minutes.

"what?"

@fixon_n_on : I’m outside.

Your soul leaves your body. You run to the window like a girl in a teen drama and THERE HE IS. In a hoodie and gray sweats, baseball cap pulled low, looking up at your building.

You open the door in a robe and nothing else.

He doesn’t say anything when you let him in. Just walks straight past you, drops his phone on your counter, and turns to face you like you’re his final exam.

“Thought you were just horny on main,” he mutters, voice low, eyes burning.

You shrug. “You posted that photo. I was just—”

“You were asking for it.”

And then he’s kissing you. Hard, messy, hand gripping the back of your neck while the other pulls at your robe like he owns the rights to it. Tongue sliding past your lips, hips pushing into yours, and God, he’s big. You feel it, even through the layers, pressing into your stomach.

He breaks the kiss only to whisper, “Where’s the bed?”

You nod toward your room, breathless.

He tosses you over his shoulder like it’s nothing.

You barely register the way he throws you on the bed—your robe falls open, lace panties barely covering anything, tits perking up like they know what’s coming. But Mingi’s not in a rush. He kneels behind you, towering in the mirror, eyes roaming every inch of your reflection like you’re his personal slutty art piece.

"Don’t move," he mutters. His voice is deeper now—dangerously low, like sin poured over honey. "Look at yourself. Look how pretty you are when you’re about to get ruined."

You start to turn around, but his palm lands flat on your ass, making your thighs jolt. You gasp.

"Did I stutter?" he growls.

You meet your own eyes in the mirror—wide, flushed, trembling.

Then you see his hand.

Veins. Fucking ropes of them, bulging from his forearm, crawling over the back of his hand like he was engineered in a lab just to wreck lives. He slides his fingers down your back slowly, tracing the curve of your spine, dragging calloused fingertips over your lace waistband and tugging it down with a single curl.

And you swear to God, you moan at the way his forearm flexes doing it.

“S-shit…” you breathe.

He hears that.

“Oh?” Mingi leans down, chest against your back, lips brushing your ear. “You moaning for my veins, baby?”

“Maybe,” you whisper, already breathless.

He smirks. “That’s the hottest thing anyone’s ever said to me.”

Then you feel it—his fingers, thick and skilled, sliding between your legs. He presses two against your slit, slow and teasing, rubbing over your folds like he’s just admiring the texture. You’re already soaked.

"All this," he says, voice hoarse, "from a fucking photo?"

"All this," you gasp, "from a fucking forearm."

He laughs. He actually laughs, low and cocky, before slowly sliding two fingers inside you.

And fuck—he knows what he’s doing.

Long, deep strokes. Curling just enough to make your legs shake. His other hand grips your thigh, and that’s when you see it—those veins again, tensing as he fucks you with his fingers, his eyes locked on your reflection.

"Touch your tits," he growls. "Wanna see how messy you look for me."

You obey.

Your back arches. His fingers go faster. The sound is obscene—wet and needy—and you're whining now, trying to hold it in, but failing.

“Look at you,” he pants, breath hot against your neck. “My needy little internet girl. You gonna cum just from my fucking hand?”

“I-I—”

“Say it.”

"Y-yes! I’m gonna cum—fuck, Mingi, your hands, your f-fucking veins—"

And then he pulls out.

You scream.

He grins like the menace he is, sucking his fingers clean, his fucking tongue dragging between them like he’s savoring the taste of your defeat.

Then?

Then comes the cock reveal.

Mingi pushes his sweats down and you actually gasp. Like, cartoonishly. Hand over your mouth, eyes wide, legs clenched.

It’s—

Baby.

It’s heavy. Thick. Veins trailing down the shaft like they belong in a goddamn museum. The head flushed deep pink, already leaking, curved just slightly upward like it was designed to hit your g-spot and wreck your life.

“No fucking way,” you whisper.

He wraps his hand around it lazily—more veins flexing in his forearm—and strokes once. Just once. And you feel your pussy throb.

"Yeah," he says, watching your jaw drop. "You're drooling."

You blink, dazed, mouth parted. Mingi’s standing behind you now, one hand gripping his cock lazily, the other on your ass, spreading you open so both of you can see how soaked you are in the mirror.

"Look at this shit," he grunts, dragging his tip over your folds. "Dripping like you were waiting for me. You been thinking about this cock all week, huh?"

"Y-yes," you whimper. “Ever since that fucking mirror selfie—”

He presses the head against your entrance but doesn’t push in. Just teases it. Rubbing circles around your clit with the head, using your wetness like lube, slick sounds making your face heat up.

“You got off to it?” he asks low, his lips brushing your ear. “Did you cum to my pic, baby?”

You nod.

"Uh-uh. Say it."

“I fucking came to it, Mingi. I rubbed my pussy to your arms and your stupid fucking veins—fuck—”

He laughs darkly. "Yeah, you’re sick."

Then—finally—he pushes in.

And Jesus fucking Christ.

Your hands slam against the mirror, breath catching, your whole body jerking forward from the stretch. He fills you like he’s trying to mold his shape into your cunt. Thick, hot, just the right curve—and he doesn’t move for a second.

Just breathes.

"Goddamn," he mutters. “You're tighter than I thought. You tryna milk me already?"

You moan, legs trembling.

Mingi grabs your hair, yanks your head up to force your gaze into the mirror again.

“Nah. You watch this. Watch how I wreck this pretty little pussy.”

He starts thrusting—deep, rough strokes. Slow at first, like he’s letting you feel every fucking inch. The mirror fogs up from your panting, from his filthy mouth in your ear.

"You like that? Huh?"

"Yes—yes, Mingi, fuck!"

"This pussy’s made for me. Look how it sucks me in."

He groans when you clench, dragging his hand from your waist to your front, pressing on your lower belly.

"Feel that?" he growls. "That’s me, baby. That’s my cock inside you. Splitting you open like you asked for it."

You’re babbling now—nonsense, cries, desperate yeses. But Mingi’s not done.

“You wanted it so bad, right? Posting your ass online, sending me slutty pics like a little tease—”

“I wanted you,” you whimper.

“Yeah, you do want me. Want me to fuck your brains out. Want me to make you drool on this mirror like the cock-drunk little whore you are.”

Your legs nearly give out. He catches you, one arm banded around your waist as he pistons into you now, rougher, faster—pure filth slapping against your soaked thighs, the sound disgusting in the best way.

"Say it's mine," he growls.

"It’s yours," you gasp.

"Say you're gonna cum all over my cock like a good girl."

"I—fuck, Mingi—I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna fucking cum—"

And you do.

You cum hard, back arched, eyes rolling, your body twitching as he fucks you through it with a satisfied grunt.

“That’s it. Fuckin’ soak me.”

He pulls out just long enough to flip you around, throws you on the bed again, and gets on top. He kisses you hard, messy, fingers in your hair, his cock still throbbing.

“You think I’m done with you?” he breathes against your lips.

You’re still catching your breath, legs shaking, mascara smudged, when Mingi pulls you up by the hips and flips you back over like a ragdoll. He drags you to the edge of the bed, feet barely touching the floor, ass high in the air, pussy still dripping.

“You think I’m done with this ass?” he mutters, palm grazing your cheek, fingers flexing like he’s about to commit a crime. “Nah. Not even close.”

You glance back, dazed, lips parted.

And he just grins.

Then—SMACK.

His palm cracks against your ass, loud and sharp. You jolt forward, a choked moan spilling out.

"Fuck—Mingi!"

"Too much?" he asks, rubbing the sting gently with those big, veiny hands. The contrast between pain and softness makes your eyes roll back.

"Not enough," you gasp.

He laughs. Dark. Delighted.

"Filthy little thing. You like getting spanked, huh?"

"Love it."

Another slap. This time harder. And another. His handprint is going to be there for days.

Then he grips both cheeks, spreading them open. He groans at the sight of you.

“God, this pussy’s begging for me.”

He strokes himself once, then lines up—and thrusts all the way in.

No teasing. No build-up. Just ruthless, deep doggystyle.

You scream into the sheets.

“Oh my fucking God—”

“That’s right,” he growls. “Take it. Let me fuck this tight little hole till I break you.”

His rhythm is brutal. Each thrust slams into you with force, your tits bouncing with every movement. You’re whining, moaning, drooling into the pillows—and he fucking loves it.

"You feel that, baby?" he pants. "Feel my cock stretching you out?"

"Yes—yes, Mingi, fuck—so big—"

He leans over you, chest to your back, one hand choking the headboard, the other sliding under to grip your throat. His lips brush your ear.

"You gonna cum again? From getting fucked like a bitch in heat?"

“Yes—fuck, please, I want it—”

He pulls your hair, forcing your head back. His breath is hot and filthy on your neck.

"Want what?"

"I want your cock—I want you to ruin me, please, please—"

"You want me to fuck you dumb?"

"Yes!"

SMACK.

Another hit to your ass—this one meaner. You fucking sob.

“That’s what I thought,” he snarls. “This pussy belongs to me now.”

And then he grabs your hips again, starts fucking you harder—if that’s even possible. You feel every vein, every ridge, every goddamn inch dragging inside you like he was crafted by the devil for the sole purpose of ending you.

You're gone.

Crying out his name. Screaming.

“Cum for me,” he grits. “Fucking cum on this cock, let me feel you lose it.”

And when you finally do—when your body seizes, your orgasm ripping through you so hard your vision blanks—he doesn’t stop.

He fucks you through your orgasm. Keeps pounding, relentless, groaning like a beast.

“Fuck—baby, I’m close—where do you want it?”

"Inside," you gasp. "I want you to fill me, Mingi—please—"

That does it.

He growls, low and feral, and slams into you one final time.

You feel it—hot and deep, his cock twitching inside as he spills everything, his grip bruising your hips. He stays buried there, panting against your back, sweating, hand still on your ass like a trophy.

Silence.

Then—his voice. Hoarse, cocky.

"...My veins really did this to you, huh?"

You’re breathless.

"Fuck your veins, Mingi."

He grins, kisses your back.

"You did."

#ateez #ateez fic #ateez smut #smut #song mingi #mingi x reader #mingi smut #mingi fanfic #ateez mingi #mingi

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