#intoxicating fear part V

[chaotic-orphan]

Intoxicating Fear (V)

Know Your Place

Continued from here // Masterpost

*~*~*~*~*

Superhero was standing in front of Kit, chatting, and Kit knew it was a dream. He was doing a mission report. Standard procedure. Kit had done them ever since he started working for Superhero, under the radar and acting as a vigilante in the city.

“And what about Omen?” Superhero asked, and Kit tilted his head slightly.

Omen? Ambrose?

Ambrose was the source of Kit’s nightmares; he couldn’t even escape them in his dreams, and he wanted to tell Superhero everything he was doing to Kit. He wanted so badly to cry into Superhero’s shoulder, even if it was just a projection from Kit’s subconscious.

“Nothing to report I’m afraid,” said Kit, except… Kit didn’t open his mouth to say that. “Ever since the docks he’s been MIA.”

Kit frowned, but his face remained neutral.

No, Kit didn’t know exactly where Ambrose was, but he knew he wasn’t MIA. Kit knew there was definitely some things to report such as Ambrose’s sadistic torture and humiliation in using Kit’s power against them.

Superhero shook his head, tsked and said: “I should have never sent you out there alone.”

“You couldn’t have known, Superhero,” said Kit, “and besides, I’m fine.”

Kit was absolutely not fine.

He couldn’t feel anything in his body, and he felt too far away to be talking like this in his dreams. Not when Kit was so aware of everything.

Aware of how clear he could see Superhero in front of him.

Aware of being in Superhero’s office to give his reports like normal.

Aware of the horrible smell of Superhero’s usual spicy tuna sandwich that he insisted went great with that vinegary BBQ sauce.

Kit frowned and blinked but his eyes didn’t blink. His lips didn’t frown. He just stayed still and waited for Superhero to either reply or dismiss him. He wanted to pinch himself to wake up, this dream was eerily realistic. Too much detail, it was making Kit anxious and yet his heart remained eerily steady.

“Right, well,” Superhero sighed, running a hand through his hair, and shooting Kit a soft happy smile. “Thank you for the update, Kit.”

“I’m just sorry it wasn’t good news,” said Kit a little sadly. Superhero shook his head and put a reassuring hand on Kit’s shoulder, but Kit didn’t feel it.

“Don’t worry, Kit. You and I together, we’re unstoppable. We’ll catch Ambrose before he strikes again. Before he hurt anyone else. I pro—”

The world swirled and shifted and changed and Kit was gasping, as if he had just resurfaced from underwater, all feeling returning to his body as sudden as a tsunami.

“Annnnnndddd you’re back in the room,” Ambrose said, voice far too happy as it reached Kit’s ears. He could feel his body now alright. Feel the electricity buzzing through it and feel the ache in his arms and feel the tiredness of his eyelids.

He gasped in startled breaths as his body spasmed with the aftershock of whatever Ambrose had just done to him. Ambrose had reached up a hand and cupped Kit’s cheek in his palm, then gave it a light slap.

“You in there, little hero? Or do you need another jolt?”

There was an unnatural crackle in the air, electric and fierce and loud. Kit flinched at the buzz of electric blue, nearly the same colour as Kit’s own electricity. Ambrose hummed, his dark eyes capturing Kit’s pained ones and locking them into Ambrose’s carnivorous gaze.

“There you are,” Ambrose purred, digging his fingers into Kit’s cheek. Kit wrenched his head back with an effort, his chest heaving heavy laboured breaths.

Kit only got his bearings then. He wasn’t sitting down anymore, but this time Ambrose let his feet rest flat on the ground with no water. His arms were dragged above Kit’s head, leaving them hang in a Y shape compared to his body. Kit pulled on them, feeling the rubber still sitting snug around his hands, testing the strength and Ambrose’s laugh followed the clack of Kit’s cuffs shifting.

“Yep. You’re there. Do you want another quickie?”

Before Kit could refuse the crackle filled the air and Ambrose pressed it against Kit’s ribs. Kit’s scream was sudden and torn from his throat in a strangled cry of shock. He squirmed away from the pain in a desperate attempt for relief, but Ambrose just followed his movement with a smirk on his horrible red lips. Kit’s muscles spasmed and seized so hard it felt like he was about to burst from the pressure of the electricity coursing through his skin.

After what felt like far too much, and much too long, the crackle in the air died and Kit sucked in startled breaths.

Quick, shallow, useless.

Ambrose put his hand on Kit’s cheek again, steering his head to look at Ambrose, to meet his terrible dark eyes.

“I think that’s enough for now, Kit, don’t you?” Ambrose said sweetly. Kit let out a soft breath of relief. Ambrose tightened his grip on Kit’s face until Kit squirmed before saying: “aren’t you going to thank me, Kit? Did seeing Superhero not teach you any manners?”

Kit blinked, momentarily forgetting the pain of Ambrose’s fingernails biting into his skin.

“Seeing Superhero?” Kit asked, voice far too croaky and rough from the electricity. He flinched when Ambrose lit up the baton again and the air crackled with blue light before ushering out, a sloppy apology: “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. Yes, that’s enough Ambrose. Thank you.”

Ambrose smiled, pleased, and let go of Kit’s face before moving away from Kit altogether. Ambrose walked to a small table with a bunch of tools perfectly laid out on it and placed the electric baton down in its perfect place.

“It’s a cattle prod,” said Ambrose conversationally, keeping his back turned to Kit. “In case you wanted to know. Tricky thing to get ahold of, but… I’d do anything to see you in pain Kit. Especially at the mercy of the very power that makes you oh so special.”

Kit licked his lips, mouth dry. “What do you mean seeing Superhero?”

It was a dream. Kit had thought it was a dream. It felt like a dream, he couldn’t move or talk or breathe or speak and everything had felt far too far away. Dreamlike.

It had to be a dream.

Ambrose let out a soft insidious laugh, more of a chuckle than anything, and Kit felt the familiar coil of fear wind deep in his gut.

Ambrose turned to face Kit, resting his hands on the table behind him. He was wearing his usual, dress shirt tucked into slacks and clean shoes shined to perfection. He smiled at Kit with his too red lips contrasting against his pale skin like blood on snow, and his dark eyes captured Kit’s in his snare.

“I mean seeing Superhero, Kit. Last time you begged me so beautifully I decided you deserved a little reward. You wanted to be awake, or well… to not go to sleep again,” Ambrose said easily, words flowing like highly pressurised water, cutting into Kit with every new one that fell so easily from Ambrose’s lips.

“So, I let you stay awake, briefly when you reported back to Superhero for me. Tell me, how did it feel seeing Superhero? Being in your body, conscious, so close to being able to reach out and tell him all the atrocities I’ve committed against you, and not being able to so much as lift a finger?”

A lump formed in Kit’s throat as powerless tears started to well in the back of Kit’s eyes. He didn’t say or do anything, he just remained silent and still, not wanting to give Ambrose what he wanted. Not wanting to give him a reaction.

“Did the electricity seize your vocal chords, little Kit? Would you like it to?”

Kit just stared.

Despite everything in his body begging him to speak, to tell Ambrose not to shock them again, Kit remained silent. Just staring ahead.

“Hmph, silent treatment. Fine I can just put you to sleep again and let you wake up when you sink a knife into Supe—”

“No!” Kit blurted, then silently chastised himself, balling his hands into fists above his head and tugging uselessly on his cuffs. Idiot.

Ambrose crossed the room in two long strides and grabbed Kit by his chin, tilting his head up to stare Ambrose in the eyes. He didn’t realise that Ambrose was taller than him until that moment. His dark eyes had a vile hunger in it, and a sharp anger glowered back at Kit for his disobedience.

“Then tell me how it felt.”

“It felt—” Kit croaked weakly, hating himself for obeying and yielding to every threat Ambrose threw at him, like some scared child. “It felt like a bad dream, like a nightmare. I thought… I thought I was dreaming because I couldn’t do anything, or feel anything, until you shocked me back here.”

“Do you believe me now, little Kit, hmm? That nobody is looking for you? That nobody knows about our secret little meetings,” Ambrose asked, voice deceptively sweet. The weight of Ambrose’s words hit Kit harder than Other Hero’s blast of water. He wasn’t lying. Kit was really and truly alone; nobody knew about Ambrose because Kit…

Kit had seen himself tell Superhero that it was alright. That there was no word of Omen. That Omen had disappeared after the docks, but he hadn’t because he were standing in front of Kit now, smirking at him with his horrible smile and his horrible eyes.

“Yes, you see now, don’t you?”

Frustrated tears gathered behind Kit’s eyes again at the utter helplessness of his situation, of the complete powerlessness. He felt trapped here with Ambrose.

No one was coming.

No back up.

No heroes to save him.

Kit balled his hands into fists, tugging hard at the restraints keeping him chained to the ceiling.

“Don’t be so certain,” Kit ground out, his voice watery and weak but he didn’t care.

“Superhero’s still looking for you, and when he finds you,” Kit continued, leaning as far forward as his restraints would allow, smile feral as he pushed Ambrose’s hand back, “he’ll find me too, and I’ll make sure you suffer.”

Ambrose’s eyes lit up with that. He laughed, taking his hand off Kit’s face and patting Kit’s chest instead. Kit rolled back, limbs aching as the chains pulled taut around his wrist and gritted his teeth.

“Promises, promises,” Ambrose hummed. “I look forward to seeing this vengeful side of you Kit. That was brave, to threaten me like that when you know there is absolutely nothing you can do to stop me.”

Ambrose shrugged, rolling his shoulders, grinning widely. “Maybe Superhero finds me, and maybe you do what you said you would. But as long as you’re here with me, I’ll make sure that you assure Superhero that all is well and that I’ve disappeared into the sunset. Keep that spark of defiance for as long as you can hold onto it Kit.”

“From what I can see… there is one little snag in your brilliant plan Kit. You forget I own you now. You’re like my own little puppet.”

“I’m not your puppet!” Kit cried, anger leaking into his expression.

Ambrose just smiled. “No?”

“No.”

“Interesting,” Ambrose hummed, turning his back to Kit. He walked across the room back to his little table of horrors and then the world faded to an impenetrable darkness, as if Kit’s eyes were shut in a basement with no light or windows, but… but he was still in the same position. Nothing had changed.

Kit pulled on his restraints just to make sure, and he was certain that he was in the same room, same position, same time but it was hard to know.

“Am—” Kit began then stopped himself. What was he going to do beg? Cry out? Make sure he was still there?

Ambrose was probably the one doing this to him.

“Kit?” It was Superhero who said that, and Kit froze. His heart thundering against his ears.

Did Ambrose make good on his promise?! Was Kit stabbing Superhero. His blood ran cold, a shiver crawling slow and icy up his spine.

There was a hand on Kit’s wrist and Kit jerked back, not trusting any of this. Even if there was a small part of him that wanted to.

“Easy, Kit. I’m getting you down.”

“No…” Kit said softly. “No this is a trick. Don’t touch me, Ambrose!”

“Kit, shh, or he’ll hear us.”

“You can’t fool me, Ambrose,” Kit spat, voice poisonous and broken. “You’re not as good as you think you are.”

Or maybe I’m just going easy on you, Kit, Ambrose purred inside Kit’s head.

Kit shook his head, screwing his eyes shut trying to shake Ambrose out, but he knew it was useless. “Maybe I’m just going easy on you. You’re so brave when I can’t use my powers, Ambrose. You know that? We have a word for that in the hero tower. Cow—”

Kit cut himself off.

It wasn’t a natural thing, more like he ran out of air and couldn’t make it with enough breath to the end of the sentence. Kit choked, swallowing, and trying to start speaking again but he couldn’t.

“What was that, Kit?” Ambrose asked out loud. The darkness bled away from the centre of Kit’s vision, and he could see Ambrose staring at him with a sick sort of interest. “What was the word?”

Kit opened his mouth and tried again but nothing came out but a breathy wheeze, as if Kit’s voice was gone.

“Hmm,” Ambrose said, tilting his head. “Mustn’t have been important. Anyways, since a cat’s got your tongue let’s go back to my little puppet analogy, shall we?”

Ambrose started walking then. He walked around Kit, circling him like a vulture ready to pick the meat from Kit’s bones. Maybe he was. Kit followed Ambrose with his limited vision until Ambrose disappeared from Kit’s sight and the blackness screwed up the small tunnel of vision Kit had.

“Puppets can’t see,” Ambrose said behind Kit now. Kit turned his head to the side hoping Ambrose would let him see again even just a sliver. This was too much. This was too much, and Kit couldn’t even beg for Ambrose to stop. “Puppets can’t speak. Remind me again, Kit, can you speak?”

Before Kit could do anything, he heard the clack of the cattle prod. It was pressed against his leg suddenly and Kit screamed but no sound came out. Kit’s muscles spasmed, his calf slipping out from under him, and he cried as his shoulder took the brunt force of the pain but he couldn’t scream.

“If you’re not a puppet, Kit, tell me when it hurts, and I’ll stop.”

Kit vaguely heard the words through his nerves lighting on fire and trying to scream as loud as he could, to get any air from his lungs and force his vocal chords to produce sound. To do something!

Fuck!

Stop! Stop! STOP! AMBROSE PLEASE! PLEASE! PLEASE!

The electricity stopped cackling through the air and Kit sagged in his restraints, his legs going out from under him. He hung limply by his wrists, nerves still on fire on every point of his body. He swallowed weakly, snot and tears flowing freely in rivers down Kit’s face.

“See, Kit?” A hand was on his cheek, gently wiping away his silent tears as he sucked in heavy breaths and heaved out shuddering sighs. Kit couldn’t even pull away, he didn’t have the strength, so his cheek rested heavily in Ambrose’s palm. Putty in Ambrose’s hands. His muscles still spasming from the aftershock. “A puppet can’t feel pain. I could give you that power you know. Turn off the nerve receptors in your brain, then you wouldn’t feel a thing for real.”

Kit shook his head, sniffing and sobbing silently.

“No? Then maybe you could actually rebel against me, hmm,” Ambrose cooed, running a hand through Kit’s hair. Kit flinched as Ambrose’s fingers pushed the stray hairs off of Kit’s forehead soaked in sweat, back out of his blind eyes that Kit couldn’t see out of.

Kit swallowed hard at Ambrose’s words, trying to steel himself and make himself impenetrable but he couldn’t help the dread dripping down from the lump in his throat and pooling into his gut. He was completely and utterly at Ambrose’s mercy. So powerless.

He couldn’t see if Ambrose didn’t want him to.

He couldn’t speak if Ambrose didn’t want him to.

He couldn’t breathe, if Ambrose didn’t want him to.

He was choking on his helplessness and the realisation made a fresh wave of tears to pour down Kit’s cheeks.

Slowly, achingly slow, Kit’s vision returned to him, and he recoiled slightly, squinting against the dim light of the room that was too bright after his bout of pure darkness.

“There. See, Kit? I can be merciful too,” said Ambrose, voice imperceptibly soft. Ambrose reached up his other hand, the cattle prod hanging from his wrist, and cupped Kit’s cheeks in two hands, wiping away the tears, forcing Kit to look into his dark eyes. “I just wanted you to understand exactly how powerless you are to stop me, so maybe I don’t have to punish you as much. Would you like that?”

Kit couldn’t do anything in reply, but he wasn’t sure he even wanted to. What do you say to something like that? A promise to not hurt Kit was worth as much as a flammable fire extinguisher. Worth as much as a Kit with electric powers wrapped in rubber.

“You can talk, Kit,” Ambrose told him, with an encouraging smile.

Kit sucked in a breath and sure enough he could hear the pathetic gasp of air. His eyes shone with the hopelessness and pain of Ambrose’s latest attack, he didn’t even want to see how pathetic he looked… but he knew one thing for certain.

He wasn’t broken yet.

“D…” Kit rasped and then descended into a small coughing fit before composing himself, swallowing and clearing his throat. He looked into Ambrose’s hideous dark eyes that were too bright at Kit’s misery. “Do… your worst, Ambrose. I’ll get out of here eventually, and you’ll… pay.”

Ambrose smiled, his red lips curling up at the edges into a smile sharper than a Stanley blade. “Oh, I look forward to it, Kit. You are just so determined. So full of surprises, I knew it was a good idea to take you, and you just keep giving me more and more reasons to keep you.”

Ambrose dug his nails in Kit’s cheeks with a grin before letting go of Kit’s face and stepping back and raising the cattle prod like a sword and holding it up towards Kit.

“You have your little vengeance plot going on, and while it’s cute and absolutely adorable and delusional. I can and will” Ambrose said, touching the cattle prod to each of Kit’s shoulders. Ambrose’s face brightened when Kit flinched back both times, terrified, “do whatever I like with you in the meantime. How’s that sound?”

Ambrose held up the cattle prod and pressed the button down, watching as Kit flinched at the mere sight and sound of the electricity.

“Ready for round two?”

*~*~*~*~*

Continued here

The Orphanage (plz lemme know if you want to be added or removed <;3) — @nameless-beanie @andithewhumper @annablogsposts @whatwhumpcomments @whumpasaurus101 @0eggdealer @rejectedbytheempty @princess-bubble-blossom

[eraenaa]

I Can Fix Him (No Really I Can)

Inspired by the song "I Can Fix Him (No Really I Can)" by Taylor Swift

Rafe Cameron x Reader Tag List

Summary: Trust me, I can handle me a dangerous man.

Warnings: Substance Use, Possessiveness, Jealousy, ¿Kinda Toxic Relationship?, Mention of Violence, Mature, 18+, P in V Sex, Shower Sex, Oral Sex (F & M receiving), Fingering, Choking, Boobjob, Filmed Sexual Relations, Not Proofread 

Word Count: 2,372

A/N: Sorry for being MIA finals week was rough and I was kinda burnout hence the almost month long hiatus but Taylor's new album revived me, so maybe expect more works inspired by TTPD songs!

You sat quietly as Rafe rested his warm hand on your thigh. You waited for him to finish his drink as he laughed around with his boys at the bar. Their voice echoed through the establishment, garnering curious glances from the other patrons present. You feel him squeeze your thigh tighter, his little signal that he wanted some affection, maybe a kiss or a touch from you. He turned to you, pupils enlarged from the little pill he took, “Are you bored?” He asked, and you quickly shook your head, placing your hand on the back of his head, and ran your nails gently against his skull. “No, baby,” You murmured and moved to kiss his lips, tasting the brandy on his tongue. Rafe parted from your kiss, looking intently into your eyes to see off you lied; he seemed satisfied enough and returned to his conversations with his friends. 

You hear the offensive joke that Rafe said a bit too loudly and held your breath. Placing your hand on his shoulder, hoping it would snap some sense into him, it usually did. You feel pitying and feared glances pointed towards you. The bartender to your left shook their head and muttered, “God help her,” when they realized you were with Rafe. A man who was notorious for his rage and ill temper. He was often perceived as rash and maybe even psychotic. Perhaps their judgment of him was true… but that is what attracted you to him anyway. You could not help but be intrigued by him and his imposing and reckless demeanor. You were certain you could tame him. You said to yourself, “I can fix him; no, really, I can.” 

He drove the both of you home. A bit of a misjudgment on your part, seeing how intoxicated he was, but there was something thrilling about him taking the reigns while still addled with dopamine and alcohol. There was something seductive in the way his hand would trail upward and upward on your thigh as he raced down the streets of the Outer Banks. But there was something different this night. There was tension in him that did not come from the lust you and him were succumbing to. “What’s wrong?” You asked, taking hold of his arm, caressing it in a way that made gooseflesh rise on his flesh. You bit your lip as his hold on you was tighter; you were certain it would once again leave his mark. “Everyone in that bar was looking at you… they were looking at what’s mine.” He snarled and pressed flat on the gas, making you speed down the streets so carelessly, but you could not find care as that elicited a wave of want in you. “They were only looking…” You trailed, testing to see what reaction it would garner from Rafe. 

You watch him shake his head, his jaw clenching in annoyance. “They were looking at what’s mine. They were practically undressing you with their eyes— imagining stealing you from me,” He gritted as you were nearing home. You voiced your disagreement, but that only seemed to enrage him more. “You enjoyed it, didn’t you, huh? You fucking enjoyed their attention.” Rafe accused, and your eyes darkened at his words. Just as the rage in him burned quickly, it died in a snap. You removed his hold on your thigh and stole away your touch on his arm. You did not wait for him to open the door of the passenger seat for you but instead got out of the confined space you were trapped in and left him. “Baby, wait, I—“ Rafe called, any irritation in his voice gone the moment he realized he had offended you. 

You were nearing your bedroom door, ready to lock him out for the night and repent for his offense, but he caged you in his arms, pulling you close to him. Burying his head at the side of your neck, he offered his apologies. “I’m sorry baby… I just don’t wanna lose you,” You hear his muffled boys. Smirking to yourself as you actually got an apology from him. From all the stories you heard of Rafe, ranging from his family to his friends and even his past flings, not one of them got an apology or anything that resembled half of it from him. But here he was, saying sorry over and over again, waiting for your reply. You kept silent for a while longer, and you felt him move over to the front of you, trying to kiss your lips, but you moved your head to the side. You bit your lip as you hear him puff, surprised by his following action. You watched Rafe sink down on his knees and hold you tightly against him, burying his face in your abdomen, his apologies spewing out from his mouth as if you were a god to whom he offered his prayers, pleading to be heard. You sighed and ran your hand through his hair, hearing him soothingly hum and burrow his head deeper into your abdomen.  

You were about to urge him to stand, but you were rendered frozen, and your breathing hitch when you feel his fingers take hold of your dress, hiking it higher. “Rafe,” you called as his lips trailed kisses on your exposed skin, his breath teasing your core that had already been aching for him. “I’m sorry,” He said once more, and you could only sigh as he placed a kiss between your thighs. You held tightly onto him as he lapped your folds, showing you just how sorry he was. “Rafe… Fuck, Rafe,” you called as he inserted a finger, but you were already on the verge of an orgasm by just the way his nose burrowed into your nubbin. “Do you forgive me, my baby?” Rafe asked, and you could only moan out your agreement and hear him hiss as you pulled on his hair and came down hard on his fingers and face. 

You hummed as you woke the next day with Rafe tracing hearts on your face; he had been watching you sleep. You gazed at him through the hazy sight of the fresh morning, “You look so pretty when you sleep,” Rafe said softly, and you smiled up at him. Gone in his system were the substances that were his ruin, but he could not deny. You quite liked him in this state, but you knew he would rather have his mood be altered by opioids and any other drugs that he believed would aid him. It won’t. And you just need to change that outlook of his or at least find another drug that would not be his ruin. 

“You’re mine,” Rafe gritted in your ear, his arms wrapped tightly around you as he realized every bastard at the party was staring at you. “I’m yours,” You repeated to calm the rage in him. He did not consume anything harsh or damnable per your request, but you were starting to rethink your decision because apparently Rafe, without his usual pick me up, was rather more paranoid and frantic. Every little interaction you have with the opposite sex pushes him closer over the edge. “Rafe,” you sighed as he stepped away, challenging a guy whose gaze had been flying to you the whole night. “The fuck you staring at, huh! Do you want a fucking fight, bro?! Stop staring at my gi—“ Rafe screamed, and you pulled at him with all of your might for him to face you and save the innocent man from being beaten up to a pulp. You turn to Rafe’s friends, urging them to help, them being the able-bodied ones to escort Rafe outside to calm down. 

You stood before him as he sat by the ledge of a planter box. His head was in his hands as he tried to calm his ragged breathing. You stood silently as he took out a box of cigarettes and hastily lit a stick. “Stop looking at me like that,” Rafe spat, and you furrowed your brows at his words. “Like what?” You asked, and Rafe shook his head and took a long drag of a cigarette. “Like you’re disappointed! I know that look all too well,” He scoffed, and you took in a deep breath, stepping closer to him. Squatting down to meet him at eye level, placing a kiss on his cheek, and your hand found home at the back of his head again, running your fingers through his hair, noting how he would lean into your touch. “I’m not disappointed,” you say in earnest, but Rafe scoffs at your words. “You are. Don’t lie to me.” He gritted and threw the bud of his cigaret onto the ground, the glowing embers slowly dying down like the rage in him. 

“I never lie to you,” You say softly, placing your hold on the side of his face. “I’m yours, Rafe,” you say softly. “You’re mine.” He answered back. “Exactly. Then why are you trying to fight those others who are completely insignificant to us?” You ask softly, brushing your thumb across his brow, watching as his eyes fluttered close and a sigh left his lips. “Because I know what they want. I know they want what’s mine.” He gritted, tensing in anger once more, his fists clenching and warning danger. “But they won’t get to have it, won’t they?” You asked and stared deeply into his ocean eyes as they opened once more. “No. Never.” He swore, and you smiled, placing a kiss on his lips. 

Kissing you was the greatest high Rafe felt. The high he now realized was the only one he’d want to chase. Nothing chemically and artificially induced could compare to your lips. “Let’s go back inside,” Rafe said after your kiss had sedated his rage. “On one condition,” You said and stood your ground as he tried to pull you back into the direction of the party. You pulled him to you, flushing your bodies, and returned your hand to caress his troubled head. “No more invoking fights? Stop glaring at those guys?” You asked and watched as he frowned at your words. “I… I can probably do no more fighting— but baby, come on, they keep staring at you and—“ You shook your head and interrupted him. 

“Be a good boy tonight, and later… I’ll do what you’ve been asking me to do since last month,” You hindered your grin as you watched Rafe’s jaw turn slack, his eyes now intoxicated and dilated with the thought of you. “What do you say?” You asked, batting your lashes at him, trailing your fingers against his forearm, your eyes already catching a glance of the dent in his trousers. “I’ll be a fucking angel if you want.” He almost growled. And you let him usher you back to a party with a smile beaming on your face. 

Rafe kept true to his word. There was practically a halo around his head for the rest of the night. Foregoing his pilled and powdered remedies, even tossed out the intoxicating liquid in his glass. You thought miracles never happened, but Rafe even let you join your friends on the dance floor without him. You saw as he reigned in the hellish thoughts in him as men around danced by your side. Instead, he stood still in his spot, his mind on the thought of heaven you’ll present him if he played nice. 

You, too, kept true to your words. You were on your knees, your hands pushing your tits together, and in between them was Rafe’s cock. A video camera by your side as Rafe had been begging you almost everyday for a home video together. Reasoning that ‘it would be a reminder of you when you are away.’ And the thought of you is the only thing that gets him on. “Fuck, baby— god, you’re so good. How are you this good?” Rafe groaned as you fucked him with your tits. It was the best reward for him, you rarely gave him head, and this was the first time you ever fucked anyone this way. Rafe fisted the sheets as you wrapped your lips around the tip of his cock again. He moaned out your name as you took him deeper into your mouth, the sound of you gagging on his cock spurring him on. But before he could come, before he could reach a different and higher level of high he always sought, you pulled away. 

“Baby… oh, baby, please, you can’t do this to me,” he almost begged, his eyes in a daze at the sight of you messy from sucking his cock. You crawled upwards and hung from his lips, him already expecting a kiss. “Fuck me in the shower,” Was all you said before you hastily dispread to the bathroom and turned the faucet on. It took a few moments for Rafe to process your words, but once he did. He quickly stood, took the camera, and positioned it to point toward you, who was already soaking wet. 

Rafe was quick to push you against the glass shower door, already excited to watch the video of you and your tits against the glass. “Yes… oh, god, like that,” You cried as Rafe mercilessly pounded behind you. He gathered your hair and gripped it back, eliciting a burning yet pleasurable sensation. “You’re always so prim and proper… but looked at you, you fuck like a whore,” Rafe gritted, and your eyes rolled back as he positioned his thrust to hit the spot that made your words incoherent. “You like that, huh, baby? You like it when I fuck you, dumb?” He asked, not expecting a reply but rather your moans. Rafe relinquished his hold on your hair and instead gripped your throat. Pounding harder into you as he felt you clench tighter around him, your body shaking and on the precipice of orgasm. “Mine. Mine, mine, mine.” Rafe gritted out as he, too, was close. “Yours. All yours, Rafe.” You cried as you came around him. Panting his name as he clung in the high that was you. 

I screamed when I first listened to the song that inspired this fic, bc Rafe was the most prominent thing that it conjured in my mind.

[skyrigel]

You are in love 11 | B.B

Part 1 of " You are in love "

Pairing: Benedict bridgerton x best friend! Reader

Warning: smut, 18+, p in v ( rough), fingering, fluffy fluff, Idiots in love, might have used whore, use of f word( alot) double orgasm, teasing, inexperienced! Reader, horny! Reader

Rigel's note 🪩: aftermath of my " You are in love 1 ", this is the confrontation and smut part of the request. My cow is so angry at me—i write so cringe sometimes, 10 points to your house if you find 1989 ref other than title.

You can hear it in the silence...

It was only a minute after you laid in your bed, you heard it, a soft thud against your window followed by another.

Your heart dreaded because it wasn't the first time your best friend had thrown rocks at your window, first time—when he called you a duck in front of lord Ivor, a childhood memory and second when he was bored so he thought calling upon his fairer sex friend would be the best choice and another time—

This particular one was very violent against the glass and for a moment you wondered if it would break, you pushed the blankets aside, feeling the night chill settle in your bones as you pulled your night gown closer.

Your feet touched the cold floor, chill reaching up your spine as you dragged yourself to the window and there he was.

Basking under the moonlight and ever so beautiful, his cheeks flushed like he had run miles and his heart heaving, his eyes widened at your silhouette and a deep sigh escaped just after a smile took refuge on his lips, those treacherous lips.

You opened the window, he dropped the pebble.

" Benedict ! " You screamed whispered down at him, his smile grew but his expressions were pained, like he was deeply confused.

" Can we talk ? " It was loud and clear, echoing in the dark, he wasn't drunk but there was something very intoxicating about him.

You face palmed, feeling your heart sink because you still haven't forget the warm tingling, still haven't forgotten the way your heart cart wheeled along with everything inside you, crawling it's way to Benedict.

Every friendly castle crumbling in mere moments, just by remembering how tenderly his mouth moved when he was protecting you and how tenderly it would be to have it against your—

" Please, please, please, " He chanted, not attempting to keep it low, then he dropped to his knees and even in the dark you couldn't mistake the silvery bead, those were tears.

" Give me one chance, let me talk, let me—"

" I am coming ! " You leaned across the sill, telling him shush with your fingers as you backed away, running out of your room but tiptoeing all right, missing the third step because it creaked and opening the back door soundlessly to your secret gardens.

Despite the fear of getting caught and chill that was swirling, your own heart wasn't being much help, your face grew warm at the mere sight of him and let alone the other embarassing things that he did to you, just by existing.

" Are you mad ? " You stomped your feet across him, crossing your arms as he looked up, his knees penetrating in grass, like he was begging for all of his sins, like you were something to worship, like a false god.

Benedict's eyes were red in the moonish glow, he was radiating, he was crying, he was so very beautiful.

" You are really mad Benedict ! Go home, we will talk tomorrow—"

" I thought i lost you." He said, it was more of a cry but you were too baffled to form words anymore. He sniffed.

" I thought i would never see you again...when I lost you...my heart..my heart was the closest to exploding." He said, clutching his heart as his lips parted in a gasp. It was paining him but it pained you all the same.

" Oh Benedict." You whispered, your hand inevitably caressing his cheek as he shaked his head profusely.

" You don't understand how much... fuck...I came here all the way thinking you would be gone somewhere i couldn't follow...like i fucked everything again—"

" You ran all the way here ?! " You garbbed his chin, you knew it would hurt but you needed to know this.

" That's not the point." He avoided your gaze but you jerked him right up, eye to eye.

" Are you fucking mad Benedict ?! Are you drunk ? " You leaned to sniff his mouth but he only reeked of the few lemonade he downed with you.

" I...no...I am sorry." Benedict swallowed hard, his adam rolled and readjusted again and the warmness was there again, spreading through the creaks of your bones.

" That was really stupid Benedict." You said softly, you couldn't imagine what whistledown would write if she had seen him running wild.

" I know, I know...it just seemed right to me, like I couldn't stop myself even if I tried but I am sorry, i don't wanna lose you, and I meant it all, truly and completely." Benedict said, his hand grabbing your wrist like you would run away and leave him.

" Benedict we aren't talking about running..?"

Benedict's brow raised as he worried his jaw, his eyes dazed as they lingered on your lips more than it was approved by.

" I am talking about.. about my defending you but I swear I wasn't trying to be hero or some knight in shining armour, i just wanted to be there like you were always for me." He inhaled sharply, you were knocked out of your breath as you tried to breathe and speak and failing in both.

" I know..I know I have embarassed you deeply and i am so sorry, i am—"

" Benedict shut up." You yanked your hand away from his grip, breathing harder as he watched grimly, not making a sound.

" That..." You bited your lip, " I'm..." Your heart was beating too fast and your cheeks deepened in colour as you turned to him.

" Hot." You said finally, gripping your night gown as your knuckles went white, all blood rushing to your face and places too holy.

" You're hot ? " Benedict tried but a grin tiptoed it's way and it was so beautiful across his face that you wanted to feel it against your own lips. Shut up !

" What you did for me Benedict...it was...it was the hottest thing you ever did...you were..oh my god...you were on fire." You closed your eyes, feeling yourself vibrate throughout your body with just his heavy gaze.

" I thought," he recovered his slackened jaw, smiling like a star,", i embarassed you."

" You could never ! " You shaked your head, taking a step, not much, it was enough.

" And the time I called you a duckling? " He laughed, sound rich and melodic and that's how you loved him the most, free and feral.

" Well you could be an idiot sometimes." You chuckled softly, taking a deep breath as Benedict outstretched his hand.

" I know, I know...I am such an idiot and that's why I need you, I want you by my side." He said earnestly, you took his hand as he pulled you closer.

" This...it has been a torment all this time." He whispered it lowly, voice heavy as he kissed each word on your knuckles, your brain was dead in it's wake.

" Benedict." You exhaled, this would ruin you, there would be no coming back.

" I watched you leave and i...I thought what would become of me and there was only one answer—nothing, there's no me without you. I can't imagine a life where it's not us." He brought your palm closer to his lips, pressing them softly, inking each syllable.

" Benedict." You shaked your head because you would do something very stupid if he didn't stop, Benedict stood up, his knees buckling and making an odd sound.

" So you must know, it can't wait anymore because I can't keep it in, it's killing me." Oh how much it was killing you, little did he know, You felt the moment stop when he leaned down, his breath heavy on your cheek as his eyes darted to you.

" You're my best friend." He said, and you knew what it was, he is in love.

Then he kissed you, soft warm lips against yours and it was only a moment before he pulled away.

" I am sorry...fuck—"

" Don't ever apologise for that ! " You pulled him by his collar, crashing your lips again like waves meeting the shore, it was like your soul was crawling out for Benedict and nothing else mattered.

A moan escaped his mouth and your whole body shuddered at the sound he was making, those sound that drowned in your own mouth as your devoured him, you felt him grinning against you and oh you could die, In silent screams and even in your wildest dreams, you never dreamt of this.

Breathless, you spared a moment and he looked so beautiful with his swollen kissed lips beaming up with your saliva. Your.

" I... Benedict...more." your cheeks blazed, you were damn sure your ears were red because Benedict looked like he was about to die, his grin splitting his whole face in half.

" This..it was perfect ! " He said, dipping down to kiss your cheek, you thought he would pull away but he then rested his forehead against yours, your breathing leveling with his in synchronise. It felt real, all of it.

He pulled you by your waist, nose bumping in yours.

" I want to give you everything..." He breathed, " everything that you want."

" I want it Benedict." You were only half aware of the thing you wanted from him, perhaps to entwine your souls together, you weren't sure but this torment was too much.

His thumb caressed your lips and then your jaw, making stars and circles as he whispered in a amused little voice.

" We must wait—" you kissed him, hard on his mouth and you were sure someone's tooth was chipped but it melted the pain as soon as his mouth parted for you, his tongue swiping across your lower lip like a Eden's feather.

You were holding his face like it was your life support and he was too holding you back like you were his most precious treasure, his hands were slowly progressing up your thigh, your night gown sliding up. He stopped, you stopped tugging at his hair and felt him whine against your mouth, nipping in response. You guided his hand to your slick as oil womanhood, he gasped against you.

His eyes were shining brighter than every star that hanged high.

" Oh." His fingers touched you and you thought you would die just there, moaning like you never had.

" You are...you are wet." He said, his cheeks deepening in heat and colour, his smile becoming a grin as your eyes dazed.

" Fuck ! " You moaned, arching back when he swiped his one long finger against you, Benedict moaned just the same.

" Oh lord...oh lord..oh fucking lord." Benedict groaned, you were sure he smiled wickedly before his finger penetrated inside you.

The coil in your stomach lurched and something heavy dropped inside you.

" It might..it might.. might hurt." Benedict dropped his head to the crook of your neck, kissing once before he set his eyes on you.

You winced as one finger became two, pulsing inside you, your soul was no longer inside you and it was as if you were floating.

" Ben...oh—" you almost cried, your eyes tearing up when his pace increased and he was panting and shaking, his eyes widening when you came with a sharp cry, thighs shaking and turning to jelly as Benedict watched dazedly.

" Fuck i ruined..I ruined — " you looked as Benedict withdrew his fingers covered in silvery thick juices.

" Shhh... " He cooed, smiling as he brought his fingers to his mouth, you gawked as he wickedly sucked them in, humming at the sweetness. " You were beautiful."

" Can we..can we go inside ? " You were being nasty, you knew but what you wouldn't give to see Benedict, whole of him, raw and naked.

" I...I would love to but in order to keep your virtue intact—

" Shut up ! " You groaned, taking his hand.

" Anthony will kill me." He shrugged, entwinng your fingers together and they moulded like they were made for each other.

" I will kill you." You said, he smiled like the devil he was.

-

You can feel it on your way home...

" Hey." You laughed when he pinned you against your father's study, kissing you deeply, " shhh..." He smiled, lowering his head to your cleavage, licking it, placing open mouthed kisses all along.

" My father's on hunt, he will come tommorow" You whispered, the servants were the only concern and honestly, there was hardly any concern.

" Good, tommorow i am talking to you father." He smiled up at you, kissing your flesh and you mouthed all prayers you knew.

" Wh..y ? " You said, Benedict hoisted you up, his hands underneath your thigh as he carried you up, missing the third step because he knew, he has been here.

" To marry you my little kangaroo." He laughed when you deadpanned at him.

" Call me that vile thing again and I will say no." You hid your face in his neck, smiling.

" Well since you're smiling—ow"

" Not smiling! " You nipped at his skin, salty and just like Benedict, it was like a dream come true, to kiss him, to love him, to have him.

" What should I call you then cupcake ? " He pushed open the door, lowering you gently down on the couch as he backed away.

" Cupcake ? " You offered, he mouthed a 'sweet' before he removed his waist coat.

" Oh lord..." You gasped as one by one Benedict began to discard his clothes, his skin gleaming with sweat and beauty, he was like the one poets wrote poems about, he was artist but he was art in himself, dazzling and ever so mesmerising.

" C'mon, don't act like you're unimpressed." He wiggled his eyebrow, teasing as he started to work on his breeches, you felt warmth tingling throughout you, you demanded touch because you were starving.

" You're like a poetry." You said, it was more of a breath but he heard it anyway, stopping as held the last bits of dignity together.

" You have called me poetry earlier too."

" Byron's poetry."

" But poetry indeed." He dropped the last clothing, naked and bare in front of you and like every bit about him, he was beautiful.

" My snowman..." You couldn't hold back the grin, Benedict was all macho and bravado but it crumbled when he strided towards you, he so wanted you to like him, every bit of him, whole of him and you did, with your whole heart you would love this man, forevermore.

" Yours." He mouthed, coming over you, his fingers undoing your nightgown and it was revealed that Benedict was rather good with buttons.

He sensed the way your body shivered at his touch, his fingers examining the work he did there with his mouth, he looked at you, you nodded, your night gown slipped down.

" Oh my...you have been hiding this from me ?! From an artist ?! " He sniffed down your body, placing tender kisses all over.

" Really ? I don't know...never thought I was much of bea—" Benedict shut you up with a kiss.

" You're the most gorgeous person I ever met and-" he kissed you again, " my sweet little kangaroo, so please." He shaked his head.

His length twitched on your thigh and you dare not look down.

" It's okay." He said, " all yours." He added with a wink, you glanced at his hardened leaking length, red angry at its head.

A desire in you swirled, to touch it, to hold it, to claim it, you brought your hand before Benedict pulled away, scaring you.

" I am sorry, I am sorry." You threw your hands back, Benedict opened his mouth abruptly.

" Oh no, i would let you fence with it later but right now I really really want to make it good for you."

" Right...I don't know what it meant but..that fencing part Benedict?! " You giggled, Benedict laughed, placing himself between your legs.

" It...it might hurt babe." He said, you stopped giggling.

" Not much." He assured, placing a kiss on your stomach, you so needed to be filled by him, his slender fingers could make you see heaven, you were dying to think where his thickness would take you. He was going to split you, you were going to very much enjoy it.

" Are you sure.. because..we can just do any other time...like wait for marriage, " you made a face, " not that I am not interested...you have no idea how much I am dying to see you scream my name."

" Benedict." You teased, putting all your seduction in it, Benedict eye rolled fondly.

" Oh Benedict! " You said it louder, Benedict eyes were blazing, the vein on his neck was throbbing like worm set free.

" You have no idea what you have done." He practically growled, taking your hand as his tip teased your entrance, you really didn't.

Your heart stopped when only his tip pushed through your folds, your resistance at it's peak, a beak of sweat tricked down your cleavage, Benedict closed his eyes, muttering something.

" Fuck..fuck you're so tight." He hastily said, his length pressing inside, you looked at how he was only half inside but you were already panting and moaning like a whore.

" Oh fuck ! " You screamed as he pushed all at once inside you, his hips smacking against yours making an obscene noise.

" I am gonna make you see stars." He said, his voice shaky but determination was dripping as he slowly thursted, once—your head threw back, twice—you were no longer bounded in body and space, thrice—your eyes closed and it was just stars and cosmic rays, you lost count and control as Benedict set his pace in a feral way, he was pushing inside you like beast set free, his hips rolled and slammed down at you with an alarming rate, they left a burning pain before he striked again.

" Benedict ! " You were screaming, your breasts rolling up and down and he watched devilishly, penetrating into your hole, plunging inside, your jaw slackened like his, his drool dripped down as he was lost somewhere, in his own daze.

He pounded inside you, his breath caught in his throat and his face red, you only half registered when he lowered his whole body, his mouth inches away from you and his thursted one final hard one.

" Oh my god ! " He bited his lips, his knees buckling as his cry sharpened, you felt the insides of your swirl with warmness, arching back, mouth agape with moans he brought out of you, the coil inside your stomach loosened as you came, body going limp. It was the second time you felt mere smoke in existence, everything dizzied while you short circuited.

You opened your eyes to look at him, your devil, your snowman, he was panting, his hair plastered to his forehead, his smile dazed.

" Was it good? " He nuzzled his nose in the crook of your neck, you were aware of his juices mixing with yours inside you and it made your nipples hard, just by thinking.

" Ama..zing." you kissed his forehead, his limp cock still inside you, you liked how full it made you feel, like complete.

" I was thinking about a snowman waltzing." He laughed lowly, it's sound buzzing inside your skin, you didn't get why.

" Why ? "

" Umm...to last longer because.. because I would have come just by the way you looked at me."

" I was looking like a perv ?! " You huffed, he glanced up, his mouth easing your hardened nipple, speaking around it.

" Oh yes, like you couldn't get enough of me, you have compromised me, now you must marry me to keep my virtue entact." He sucked back again, you chuckled, feeling the corner of your eyes glistented with tears.

It was several moments gone, his head on your chest as you scatched his scalp, untangling his hair and occasionally pulling him for a kiss, he was still inside you, coaxing inside your warmness, relishing.

" Benedict." You whispered, not bothering if he had slept already.

" Huh." He mumbled softly, heavy with sleep.

" You're my best friend." you knew what it was, you are in love.

[drunk-person]

Uncontrollably (One shot)

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x cousin!reader

Summary: After long years without seeing each other, Aemond is reunited with his cousin who came from Dragon Stone for a festival in the kingdom. And after a warm reunion in the library Aemond decides, against his better judgment, to visit his cousin's room just as they did when they were younger before her father, Prince Daemon, took her to Dragon Stone. He just didn't count on the fact that things could get so out of his control.

WARNING: 18+ mdni! Smut, p in v, fingering, Oral Sex, loss of virginity, no description for reader.

Word cont: 3.900 k

Author's note: This One shot is a deleted scene from a chapter of a long fic I've been writing for a while. However, after writing it, I didn't think the scene was so consistent with the story's setting and I rewrote it differently, so I decided to share the deleted scene with you. I hope you like it, and again English is not my first language.

Aemond knew he shouldn't be there. Not after what had happened in the library, he knew he was playing with his luck, testing his own self-control. But he couldn't help it. Y/n was so close, he knew how to get to her, it wouldn't be long now before she would have to return to Dragon Stone again, and then he didn't know when he would see her again.

— To hell with it. — He sighed before pushing the wall and finding himself inside the wardrobe of Y/n's room. Aemond took a deep breath and knocked twice on the wardrobe door from the inside.

— Aem? — Came her sweet voice with expectation and a slight fear outside.

— Yes, it's me. — He replied nervously and then the light illuminated the dark wardrobe as Y/n opened the door smiling at him. Aemond tried, but couldn't help but look from top to bottom, she was only wearing a nightgown with a very thin fabric and a silk and lace cloak on top.

— Hey. — She said shyly as she closed the front part of the slip, better hiding her body from his eyes.

— Hello. — Aemond cleared his throat a little nervously — I thought we would read a little, just like the old days.

He lifted the book "Tales of Ancient Valyria" that he had in his hands, still inside her wardrobe, her favorite book, and Y/n's eyes lit up.

— Well, first you need to get out of the wardrobe. — Her playful voice made Aemond's body relax as he smiled and lowered his head to get out of the furniture without hitting the top. He then saw Y/n's eyes staring at him in awe.

— What it was? — He smiled, already out of the wardrobe and facing Y/n in the room.

— You got so tall. — She spoke simply.

— Did you just realize that now? — Aemond frowned, teasing her.

— Certainly not. — She laughed. — But it's strange to see you coming out of the wardrobe so big, when the last time you did that we were practically the same height.

Aemond smiled and guided her by the hand to the rug in front of the fireplace, feeling the skin on his hands tingle where his palm met hers. He sat on the floor and just like when they were younger, Y/n sat next to him, leaning her head on Aemond's shoulder gently, and the prince had to hold back a sigh.

He began to read aloud the Valyrian words from the book that he already knew by heart from so many times he had read it with her in mind. Aemond practically recited the stories, and barely wasted time looking at the pages, focusing too much on admiring the beauty of the princess lying on his shoulder.

— Se skori janderys geptot, zȳhon ābrazȳrys ozmijiō zirȳla tolvie tubis, se ziry jumban syt zȳhon amāzigon, gīda skori everyone ivestretan zȳhon ziry istan. — Aemond recited this part almost whispering, lost amid Y/n's beauty.

"And when Janderys was gone, her wife missed her every day. She waited patiently for her return, even when everyone told her it was impossible."

After that part, Y/n looked at Aemond and he didn't dare look in another direction, he just got lost in the beautiful eyes that he loved so much. Her sweet smell entering his nostrils intoxicated him and he felt his entire body shudder from one moment to the next with her proximity. The lack of control almost took over him once again, as had become common in the last few days, but this time he got up quickly, leaving the book lying on the carpet next to Y/n.

Aemond pulled away a little as he tried to regain his senses and contain the urge to kiss her again, just like he had done in the library. When they were children everything was so much simpler. Why now that he was a man couldn't he just sit on the rug and read a book with her without feeling like he was going to combust?

And just as thoughts were starting to flow again in Aemond's mind he felt the touch of Y/n's hand on his shoulder, the intoxicating smell once again overwhelming him.

— Aem? — She called him with that sweet voice that did things to his mind that he never thought possible. Aemond pressed firmly on the eye, keeping it firmly in place. — Are you okay?

— I am. — He turned back to Y/n, trying to maintain his composure, but as soon as he turned back, his gaze went straight to her red lips. Aemond quickly looked away, trying to look anywhere but at her lips. But then... his eyes fell onto the bedside table and the prince's eye pupil dilated instantly.

The tournament crown he had given her.

— You brought it with you.

— Of course, it's not every day that I'm crowned the queen of love and beauty by the greatest warrior in the kingdom.

His words awakened something within him that he hadn't yet realized. Such a feeling of possession and pride washing over him that Aemond could barely breathe, he didn't want to breathe, unless the air was the same as Y/n's.

The memory of the sounds she made against his neck in the library while she rubbed against his clothed thigh and that he tried not to think about tonight at all costs flooded his mind, the way she looked at him full of desire when he handed her that crown dominated him, the feeling of her skin against his during the dance that she had granted him hours before made him lose the control he swore to maintain.

And without being able to contain himself, Aemond pulled her firmly towards him by the hips and kissed her on the mouth hungrily. He wanted her so much it hurt. Y/n sighed and took her hands to his hair, tangling them in the silky strands as she pulled him even closer into the kiss.

He squeezed her hips between his fingers as he had been dreaming of doing for some time, and lightly squeezed her ass, pulling her closer and closer amidst the voracious kisses. Aemond kissed Y/n's neck while they both tried to catch their breath, he gave light bites and sucked in some spots while she sighed for him.

— Aemond.

She moaned his name sweetly and Aemond barely had control over himself when he raised his hands that were on her hips to the top of her back and holding tight to the collar of the fragile nightdress he tore it, making Y/n moan and rub herself against him as the pieces of fabric fell to the floor.

The Vision in front of him could easily have killed him. The naked body he had only seen in his wildest dreams was even more beautiful than he could have dreamed, it was perfect. Her breasts were as beautiful as he had imagined, the delicate curves of her waist and hips seemed designed by the gods themselves and between her beautiful thighs that she pressed firmly in search of relief, her intimacy that he was sure was already wet for him.

Aemond wanted to control himself, he would control himself. But he wanted to at least prove it first. And then he swore to himself that he would just taste her and pleasure her, just as he had the day before, and then he would leave. He would ask the gods for forgiveness for his indolence, and everything would be fine.

And with that thought he approached her again with his hungry gaze pulling her for another kiss while he brought his hands to her ass cheeks, squeezing firmly. Aemond guided Y/n to the bed and sat her down on the mattress with a mischievous smile on her face. She then looked up at him, looking confused with her lips swollen from kissing and the skin on her neck slightly red.

— Open your legs for me jorrāelagon. — He asked softly as he knelt in front of her, Y/n felt her whole body burn with shame, but obeyed, languidly opening her legs before Aemond's hungry eyes. My love

He said a filthy curse in Valyrian that made her blush even more if possible as he brought both hands to her smooth thighs, caressing and squeezing them. Aemond began caressing his left hand slowly while listening to Y/n's sighs and when he got to where he wanted he gently separated his lips from Y/n's intimacy and took two fingers to her sensitive pearl, caressing it.

Y/n sighed with pleasure at the new sensation of Aemond's fingers caressing her, and when he brought his fingers to her entrance and slowly placed them inside, making soft back and forth movements, she threw her head back while biting her lips.

Aemond enjoyed watching her reactions and smiled when he saw a slight frown of disappointment form when he moved her hand away, moving it back to his thigh. But before she could say anything, he firmly grabbed both of her thighs to keep them open. and dipped his head between her legs, licking her firmly from the entrance to the pearl.

Y/n moaned loudly at the sensation and gripped the sheets tightly between her fingers, and Aemond groaned as he finally felt her sweet taste on the tip of his tongue. He penetrated her tongue with his tongue and Y/n squirmed, begging for more.

— Aemond. — She said his name like a song, and he responded by giving her more and more pleasure, going deeper between her thighs with even more desire as he felt her squirm under his care. His mouth took every little part of her pussy for himself, while his nose hit her clit in a way that made her want to scream.

Y/n felt her entire body out of control, the feeling a thousand times stronger than the day before in the library. Spasms wracked her body and without control she fell back onto the sheets as she arched her back and moaned desperately. She took her hands to Aemond's hair, tangling her fingers between the strands and practically rubbing herself against his face without any shame.

— Aemond. — She practically screamed when she reached her peak, writhing against Aemond's mouth as he sucked her as if his life depended on it.

He felt her spongy walls contract more and more against his tongue and the delicious spasms brought with them Y/n's orgasm. Her taste numbed him, he wanted to feel that taste on his lips forever. The sound of her voice screaming his name at her peak almost drove him crazy, he wanted more.

Aemond moved up his lips, leaving kisses on her sensitive intimacy while he felt her shudder, and he went up her belly, kissing and sucking slowly, drawing sighs of pleasure from Y/n.

—It tastes so good. — He said as he continued to kiss more amidst the gasps of pleasure that Y/n emitted. — Sweet and perfect, like everything about you.

The kisses reached her breasts, and Aemond knew he should stop, that this was going too far and her virtue was at stake. But he told himself that if he could just touch those perfect breasts he would be satisfied. And then he took her left breast into his mouth and sucked it hard, driving her crazy as she had barely recovered from her recent orgasm. He squeezed her other breast with his hand, and gently pinched her nipple, giving her even more pleasure. Breasts so good, made for him to love, made for him to suck, with every sound made by Y/n, Aemond thought he was going to die

—So sensitive. So good for me.

Aemond rubbed his clothed body against her naked body looking for pleasure, his hardness pressing against her intimacy. He could feel her fluids moistening his pants and he moaned in pleasure at the sensation.

— Just for you Aemond. — She moaned sweetly at him. — Only yours.

A feeling of possessiveness came over him when he heard her say those words. From him. He wanted so badly to feel her bare skin against his bare skin, he needs to have that feeling at least once in his life. And he assured himself that he would go no further than that, that he would keep her maidenhood intact.

Aemond felt Y/n's hands pulling him by his clothes as she tried to kiss his neck just like he had done to her. And he ripped off his doublet and threw it haphazardly on the floor, then removing the lighter shirt he was wearing underneath and throwing it too, leaving his chest bare under Y/n's watchful gaze.

She pulled him back to her and kissed him passionately on the lips, and Aemond felt his skin burn and tingle as it came into contact with hers. Her warm breasts rubbing against his chest, Aemond took his hands to her back and pulled her further up onto the bed, where the two became even more entangled in kisses as they rubbed against each other in search of pleasure.

Y/n put her hand on the drawstring that held Aemond's pants in place and he held her hands, stopping her from pulling.

— Aemond. — She sighed his name with her eyes closed.

— I can't do that. — He spoke against her neck. — It would ruin you.

— I just want to feel you... feel your body against mine. — She sighed and scratched his back. — It's not fair that I'm naked and you're not.

Aemond took a deep breath and then inhaled. He couldn't do that, it would be going too far. The prince then got up from the bed with difficulty as he tried to move away from her delicious body.

— Aemond. — She begged there sprawled on the bed, naked, with her hair messy, her lips red from kissing and her silky legs parted as moisture ran down her thighs. He couldn't deny her. Just that more and he would go away to his own room, he was a gentleman. He wouldn't take Y/n's virtue without being married to her.

He untied his pants under her watchful gaze and then ripped them off, throwing them in the pile of clothes, leaving him completely naked, with just his eye patch. Aemond walked to the bed again and lay down on her body, now being able to feel the moisture that dripped from her directly onto his dick. By the Gods, how he would like to bury himself in her.

The two kissed eagerly and Y/n intertwined her legs against Aemond's slim waist in search of friction, making him moan against her lips as he rubbed himself against that hot moisture.

— Take it off. — She begged breathlessly between kisses, putting her hand to her eye patch.

— No. — Aemond denied, gently taking her hand away from the eye patch and stopping kissing her neck.

— Please Aemond. — She begged, looking at him while caressing his face. — I want to see you in full, I don't care about scars.

And Aemond knew that there was nothing in this world that she begged him naked under his body that he wouldn't do. If she asked him right now to ride Vhagar and burn an entire city, he would burn it without a second thought. And taking his hand to his face, he removed the eye patch, looking at her slightly nervous, fearing to see rejection in the eyes he loved so much.

Y/n admired him enchantedly. It was different from the last time she saw him, there was a shiny sapphire stone where Aemond's eye had once been and the wound was well healed. Y/n gently brought her hand towards his eye, stroking it softly the region.

— It hurts? — She asked in a soft voice.Aemond shook his head slightly as he turned and placed a kiss on Y/n's palm.

— Almost no more.

— Gevie. — She said with a look of pure adoration as she pulled him into another passionate kiss that made Aemond sigh.

Y/n kissed his way up his face until she reached his left eye where the sapphire was and she left a long and affectionate kiss, as if Aemond was the most important thing in her world.

— Vok issa jorrāelagon. — She said with her eyes full of pure adoration, making some tears well up in Aemond's eye, who, with a genuine smile, kissed her even more passionately than before. You are perfect my love.

— Ao issi vok, se olvie gevie mirre vēttan ondoso se jaes. — He spoke with his face glued to hers while rubbing their noses and lips against each other in an extremely intimate way. You are perfection, the most beautiful creature ever made by the gods.

Aemond's throbbing member rubbed against Y/n's wetness, leaving them both panting with desire amidst the intimate caresses. And she wanted him so badly in that moment, more than anything she had ever wanted in her life.

— Aem. — She whimpered. — I want you. I want you so badly.

— We can not do that. — He panted, pulling away slightly from her.

Y/n tangled her fingers in his silver hair, pulling him back into a voracious and messy kiss.

— Y/n... — Aemond sighed between the kiss, trying to pull away, but not having the strength to do so, he wanted so much, but knew he shouldn't.

— I was made to be yours. — She grunted, holding him by the hair and looking at him in a way that bordered on despair. — Only yours. Not from him.

Him. Aemond knew who she was talking about, and for a moment in that haze of lust he had forgotten about that bastard who wanted to steal what was his.

— Aemond, I'd rather die, I'd rather be ruined, I'd rather anything than let him lay his hands on me. I feel sick at the thought of him putting his hands on my body. I don't want him. I want you. With everything in me, I want you. She looked directly into his eyes as she spoke, still holding him by his silky silver hair.

— I am begging you Aemond Targaryen. — She sighed beneath him, her eyes shining with desire. — Ruin me.

Aemond can't resist any longer, not with her begging like that. And with a groan he looked into her eyes and began to penetrate her soft, warm intimacy with his hard bulge. And at that moment he came to the conclusion that he had never felt anything as good as that in his entire life.

Y/n dug her nails into Aemond's back as she felt him slowly enter her insides.

— Aemond. — She sighed amidst the pleasure and slight pain and he immediately stood still, looking at her with slightly frightened eyes.

— Did I hurt you?

— No. — Y/n grabbed his shoulders pulling him closer to her. —Don't stop, I'm fine.

Aemond continued pushing inside her slowly, fearing to hurt her in any way, and little by little he sheathed himself completely inside Y/n, who was squeezing his shoulders and scratching him lightly. Aemond lay still inside her, panting as he felt her hot walls pressing and pulling him closer and closer, and trying to contain himself he buried his head in the curve between Y/n's neck and shoulder.

— You can move. — She sighed.

—Are you sure? — Aemond asked, looking into her eyes again while trying to contain himself.

Y/n confirmed with her head, putting her hands through Aemond's already messy hair and pulling him into a wet, slow kiss that got messier as he started to move inside her.

Aemond pushed himself lightly inside her and felt her gasp into the kiss and pull his hair. He then started to move harder and faster and the feeling of y/n's intimacy contracting against him was killing him.

— So good. — He moaned to her amidst the kisses and thrusts that became increasingly stronger as he lost himself in Y/n's moans.

— More. — She begged amidst moans. — Please Aemond, more.

Aemond bit her neck hard and sucked it uncontrollably when he heard her cry out for him like that. He then fucked her hard and loudly while they both panted amid the kisses and love bites, the prince seemed obsessed with her neck and was sucking it in an almost animalistic way at that point.

— Mine. — He panted.

He then took his right hand to her breast and desperately bit and kissed it down her lap until he reached the other breast, putting it in his mouth and sucking it as if he were going to devour it. Y/n threw her head back in pleasure at feeling so many sensations at the same time, and when he removed his hand from her breast and placed it between her legs, caressing her furiously, Y/n felt like she had lost all control over her own body.

— Yours, only yours Aemond. Always only yours.

The pleasure that hit her was even stronger than before, the feeling of Aemond inside her made her want to cry with joy. His naked body against hers, his mouth kissing her everywhere and she came against his cock pressing and milking it while she moaned Aemond's name wildly, crossed both legs against his naked ass and scratched his back pulling him closer and closer.

Aemond, feeling her coming and pressing against him, could no longer resist and without thinking about anything, without looking at tomorrow or the possible consequences, he spilled his seed deep inside Y/n while moaning breathlessly looking at her contorted face of pleasure.

— I love you. — He declared in the midst of pleasure and he could see her eyes, lost in pleasure, filling with tears as she brought her hand to his face and caressed it.

— I love you too.

And completely exhausted after the climax, they both fell into unconsciousness, still naked and hugging each other with satisfied smiles on their faces that lasted until the next morning, when Aemond did not appear to do his morning chores and they were both awakened by the horrified scream of the queen at the enter his niece’s room. Followed by Aegon who, upon seeing the scene, gave a malicious smile towards Aemond.

— Well it looks like we're not going to have a wedding anymore, at least not one with little Jace, isn't that brother?

---------------------------¤¤-----------------------

Tag list: @anukulee

[sl4sh3rsub]

art the clown hcs (nsfw: mdni)

art the clown x reader (AFAB, AMAB, FtM, MtF)

warning: so so much. unhygienic behaviour, p in v + anal (all unprotected - pls stay safe irl), creampies, fingering (receiving), overstimulation (receiving), dubious consent + cnc (with art), noncon (with [sometimes intoxicated] victims + art, not with reader), art is mute, reader is put on display and used as bait for art's activities, art makes his own snuff?? idk but there's sexual stuff with dead bodies + art in the same vicinity, masturbation, blood kink but lots of blood in general, gore, mentions of injury and giving injury (not on reader), public sex/exhibitionism, oral (giving + receiving), rimming (giving), period sex, cumrag, sexual photographs taken of/for reader, art goes commando, scarification, art is a switch - if only to commit to the bit, fear play (empty guns, dull knives), bondage (reader receiving), cum eating, somnophilia, shoe humping, cum tributes, feet stuff mentioned, musk kink, corruption kink mentioned?, mtf section mentions art performing an orchiectomy

a/n: kinda edited. he's so nine inch nails/orgy coded and the movies are so scary that i chickened out rewatching parts of terrifier 2 pls forgive me :3 the first dot point is to set the mood, sorry but it gets right into it

READ THE WARNINGS this one's very intense - please, if you think this might be too much for you or just uncomfortable, skip this one.

order: general hcs first then amab + afab then ftm + mtf, different sections = different content n tried not to repeat much

_ _ _ _ _

general hcs

art will put on a home video of him torturing and toying with someone while you're held between his legs - he wants to have a fun little viewing party for his recent exploits! he toys with your hole, teasing you as his cock ruts into your lower back. the sinister clown ignores the thrashing of your legs as he pulls orgasm after orgasm out of your poor, tired body. the only time he lets up, giving a break from his constant stimulation on your sweet spots, is when he pauses to mimic a wave or jolly dance in the video he's showing you. the way your slick arousal thins and connects his fingers whenever he waves at the screen would be comical if your head wasn't so fuzzy from the constant edging. he loves tormenting people but the methods for you are a bit more... delicious

whenever he comes home injured, he patiently sits propped against a wall as you tend to his weeping wounds. judging by the ripped clown suit and gashes littering his skin, it was evidently a rough night. he doesn't bother to tell you that he will heal at abnormally fast speeds, he just loves the sight of his blood smeared on your skin. while you bandage art up, the gauze ends up giving him more coverage than his shredded suit - he meets your gaze with a sly grin as he thrusts up into your hand, showing what he has to offer. you'll have to ignore the drying blood all over the two of you, as he rushes to pull your face into of his lap to let out some pent-up energy :<

he's always so playful whenever you both get down and dirty, whether it's pulling surprised expressions whenever you cum, dragging his finger down from your lips to your throat to shush you or flick your nipples only to giggle at your surprised face

if art is not in the mood to trudge home alone after a rampage, he'll text you an address to meet him at. to no one's surprise, it's always a laundromat. he loves to fuck you in the empty establishments while his clothing is in a washing cycle - after all, it would be rude to get your clothing dirty while he's taking you from behind over a dryer. he pays extra attention to getting off and finishing inside you as a way to wind down from a wild time, his creamy release dripping onto the floor. guess you'll have to bust out the mop on shaky legs while art cheerily dresses himself and patiently waits for you on the bench next to the window - he can't help but admire his special person and be proud of how he made them come undone

his favourite way to wake up is to have his throbbing cock in your mouth, his gaze half-lidded as you work your hand along his length and envelop him with your soft lips. art is addicted to you sloppily gagging on him, spit and precum drooling down his balls. his huffs of pleasure gracing your ears are the sweetest part of any early morning

whenever you finish giving art head, kiss his tip softly after swallowing, making sure to slurp up his cum from dribbling down his shaft and he'll trace a heart on your forehead with your tears from gagging on him. if you meet his gaze as you catch your breath, he'll quietly shush and tut at you in reassurance while you rest your cheek against his bare thigh, petting your hair

the clown likes to play a game where he captures male victims he's focused on, strips them down, then ties them up in a row and gags them. he makes them watch as he pleasures you in front of them, spread on display as he mocks them and their tears, all while you come undone on his cock and fingers. he punishes the one that gets hard first (away from you, of course - he drags the guy to the next room to deal with later). art puts you on display in front of the remaining men, dons a shitty wig and red lipstick then slowly jerks off the softest person as they gradually get more aroused at the sight of you playing with yourself and moaning for art to fuck you. art is overall most turned on by other people watching you without touching what's his - he loves showing you off and feeling proud that they could never pleasure you like he could :3

art fucks you against the windows of buildings he's snuck into - he loves giving an eyeful for his potential victims and he's not above tempting them into the building he's camped out in with the false promise of joining in

he has certain hand signals for you to bend over, drop your pants or get on your knees. it's not in an intimidating dominant way, it's simply out of necessity as he cannot verbally order you to do anything in the bedroom

your pleasure is not the priority all the time - art's main goal is for him to feel good, however he may realise that certain things make you squeeze his cock perfectly and as a result, your orgasms are a coincidental byproduct of his lust

art is a sucker for being balls deep inside you when he cums but he also enjoys painting your sloppy hole - an excellent view, plus there's so much to scoop up and finger deep back inside you

whenever he cums, art's tummy tenses and his thighs spasm as his eyes roll backwards. his chest shudders as his breathing gets shaky, needing to grab onto something to steady himself. his cum itself is generally thick but whenever you remind him to drink water, it'll get very thin and watery. it's important to note, his cum colour fluctuates between a regular milk colour and pitch black goop

art the clown freeballs in his satin costume, just hangin out for the sake of convenience and simplicity - if he's needing to piss, rub one out or get undressed to sleep, why should underwear be in the way? he's an absolute pervert, so he loves you seeing his dick whenever you look at him

force him have a shower - not even a bath, the water would get dirty too quick. caked layers of metallic blood and dirt don't help anyone's general scent and if he's around you a lot, you don't want a smelly clown trailing you and in your general vicinity

he wanders around naked after he takes a hot shower, when his costume is drying and his painted neck is waiting to be properly touched up. expect to see his bare dick twitch while you stare in shock, mouth hanging open at his blatant lack of shame in his nudity. the same thing applies to whenever the clown suit has a hole in it - at this point it's any excuse to be in the nude and flaunting his body around, the tapered tip of his cock always pulsing under your bashful eye

art carves his name into you - or something like 'art was here', 'art's art' or 'art's toy' - but you get to choose where! in his mind, it's like a collaborative effort :<

he's addicted to your warmth and tightness, so be ready to have his pasty cock buried in you whenever there's nothing to do. he'll pull you onto his lap while bunched up and all tense, pull down your underwear and spit on his length, slowly sliding into you as his muscles release all tension. he's practically a limp puddle once he's deep inside - he's comfortable enough to nap like this and will cuddle you until you feel the same way. the bastard will occasionally toot his horn to scare you into clenching around his softly throbbing dick

his love language is physical touch - his hand is always hovering near your hip, ass or lower back and he pats your cheek or kisses your temple if you've been good, petting your hair as you doze off next to him. his version on an 'i love you' is a warm palm cupping your face as he intertwines his body with yours, your muscles relaxing as you lean into his heat

the clown always, always leaves deep bites and bruises all over your body. prepare to have painkillers at every single meal, because he makes sure you're aching and bleeding when he's done with you after a rough day

as he doesn't make you participate in his meals of flesh and rubbish, expect to have his victim's homecooked leftovers, as well as pizza and other take-out regularly - all with a little extra salty glaze ontop <3 he's a romantic after all and still wants a small part of him inside you no matter what, that way you're never really lonely - his warmth settling in your tummy and also leaking from between your legs

art marks up your neck with his tongue and nails, leaving crescent moons and maroon roses etched into your skin like a morbid necklace. although he's not happy that you don't heal abnormally fast like he does, your shudders as his cold nails trail over your tender flesh spark a warmth within his gut and a glint in his eye

art chokes you so often that his hand is practically your necklace. he likes the control he's able to exercise subtly with a squeeze of his fingers and you don't mind the comforting pressure of his thumb skimming over your pulse. be sure to wash his gloves often thought - whenever you drool or have given him head and his hand then takes its place around your throat, the remnants of the fluids often soak into the material clinging to his palms. eventually, it'll make his skin tacky with dried cum and spit, stuck to the threadbare gloves

his guilty pleasure is having you ride him and take control, with zero regard for accidentally overstimulating him - sure he could breed you of his own volition, in his own time, but he's your toy in that moment with no control. the coincidental creampie being fucked deeper and deeper in you makes a shiver run down his spine. he's willing to be a pliable doll for you to mould into a quiet fuck toy to play with. be sure to hold art close and comfort him after you take control and he'll do the same back after he's been rough

art gets his hands on incredibly dull knives and empty guns with no magazine, especially pistols, and brings them into your sexual life. he loves the fear in your eyes as he trails the blades down your chest, tracing your nipples and thighs but the clown is especially turned on by making you suck the barrel of a gun - pretty eyes glittering in panic and arousal. he makes a game of rigging a shotgun with tripwires - if you shift too much while he trails his tongue down your body or thrash as he makes you cum on his face, the threat of the trigger being pulled gives you a rush of adrenaline that makes your eyes roll back, vision fading white. his gun fixation is not limited to just that - some other ideas he's been cooking up include you being fucked by a dead cop's handgun while humping his clown shoe, as well as you christening each new weapon he creates during his tinkering sessions

if he's desperate to jerk off, he'll do it wherever - ready to get it over with even if he ends up rubbing one out next to a dead body or in the middle of a public park. if he returns to you with dirty gloves and semen drying on the wrist, don't ask what happened because his mimed description of events is never pleasant

art sits on your face and gets off with his fist while you fuck him with your tongue, lapping at his hole. he tosses his head back and pants very softly, thighs trembling as he grinds himself on your face - bonus points if you let him pull back and fuck your mouth with his cock for a bit before returning to suffocate you between his asscheeks

he loves licking your skin everywhere. absolutely everywhere. he loves the taste of your salty sweat and warmth, feeling powerful having your pulse race under his tongue. if you fuck him, stuff your fingers in his mouth and his eyes will roll back in his skull

art suspends you with chains and rope, teasing you until you're begging to be fucked. his deft fingers trace your curves and edges, flicking and pinching your nipples, inner thighs and ass as he manically grins with a clear cock print in the front of his suit. he only maneuvers you to take his cock once you're dripping spit, tears and arousal onto the cold floor and screaming for him

as art knows you belong to him, sharing you with another man gets him going like nothing else - he'll eiffel tower you with a restrained captive, urging you to choke on the stranger's hardening dick as he fucks you so deep you're gasping for air and seeing stars. what's gonna happen, the guy survives? fuck no, he's already practically giftwrapped at death's doorstep just from becoming art's captive. why not make the last few hours of his life enjoyable and more than fulfilling - if the poor sod is willing, you could even keep him for a night or two as a pet

if you have genital, nipple piercings or even a septum done, art will dangle a little bell from each hoop. it immediately brightens his day to hear the little jingles whenever you're bouncing on his dick and he can't resist flicking them to make you jolt or smacking your ass whenever you walk near him just to hear the sweet soft tinkle under your loose clothing

art cleans up each basement/house he temporarily stays in, with a designated bed to fit the two of you and ensures there's a bathroom and basic laundry attached for your comfort - he notices you tend to avoid his being in his proximity whenever he gets too smelly. he may also move in with you for bouts of time - provided you have the space - but also camps out at his usual haunts and drags you along to hang out with him! the poor clown hates being lonely :(

he might go on a walk with you and toy with you - he gets off on watching you panic as he whips his dick out in public and gestures for you to kiss it, rub your face over it and worship him, hard or not. the control he holds over you and the headrush of power, combined with your submissive gaze aimed up at him, makes his growing affection and attachment towards you grow stronger

he brings you human organs and shitty handwritten poems - 'here's a heart but i wanna be the one pumping inside of you <:o)' or 'i could call you this esophagus the way you swallowed me so well last night >:)'

he has a collection of picture frames in his hideout because he takes photos of you and sticks them in nice frames - who needs playboy magazines when he can make tributes to you? you can tell which one is his favourite, with the crusty sludge stuck to the glass and wood protecting the flimsy picture

art definitely wants a footjob every now and then, every once in a while. it means he can tie up your hands while you get him off AND he still has two hands to play with you - a win win situation all around. he's not really into it strictly because it's feet, he just gets off on the thought of corrupting you more with such a taboo action

he has a love-hate relationship with piss too - he loves to have you obediently under him as he showers you with piss and cum, corrupting you a little more each time he marks you with his smell, but he hates because it masks your natural scent which is one of the few things that makes his head spin

if you get anxious or restless, he always has a cold body nearby.. oh you want something warmer? feel free to suckle on his soft cock or his sac while you cuddle his leg and fidget with the cloth of his pantleg

although he's gotten a lot better at regulating his personal hygiene since you met him, he doesn't always clean himself up - the musky and tangy stench of blood, sweat and grime permeates his suit until he scrubs clean

art loves it when you do filthy things for his pleasure, like sniffing his armpits while humping him or rimming him with his sweaty balls resting on your nose, making your brain go dumb

_ _ _ _ _

amab hcs

whenever art is thinking about being away for a few days to camp out at a certain location, he'll grab himself a clean rag and dedicate an entire night to getting you to cum on the cloth as many times as possible. it wouldn't be a pair of underwear from either of you - he hates wearing any type of clothing under the suit, even if it's your cum stained boxers - so it'd have to be a ripped piece of cloth from an old clown outfit. he'll jack you off and fuck you while holding it over your tip and even gag on your cock until the flimsy material is coated and probably permanently stained in your spend. he just wants a keepsake for the road and why not make it imbued with memories of the two of you enjoying yourselves? his own little cumrag to remember what he has back home, something special to return to!

art will ask you to be bait for him - either through stripping down sensually and pressing your bulge and ass against the windows of art’s current setup to entice horny, often intoxicated, onlookers late at night or indulging catcallers and inviting them to get it on with you back at the designated building, caressing their chest and crotch as you both giggle and meander inside. the clown always has your back and would not let you get hurt by the strangers at all, but the bait portion of his plan is extremely important to lull the victims into an optimistic headspace for them to ignore the shady setting

art craves the sensation of you throbbing under his tongue, the feeling of your pulse as you leak your pleasure all over his lips and the heavy musky taste slips down his throat

he'll get you a cute, sparkly plastic ring from a gachapon machine down at the arcade and fake proposes to you! later in the week, he'll break into a sex shop and bring home a matching cock ring (he's a romantic)

art has an obsession with your balls - nipping at them, having them slap against his chin or nose bridge as he messily takes as much as he can down his throat, you name it. expect greasepaint at the base of your cock and staining your pubes

he scrapes his nails down your back whenever you fuck his tight ass, pale cock bobbing and leaking everywhere. he adores marking up your back with the red ridges of broken skin as he cums all over your chests, shooting warmth up and splattering it on your flushed neck

if he's on top and riding, he'll put all his weight into choking you while he bounces up and down on your cock, eyes glinting with pride at your gasped thanks whenever he pulls you back from the brink of unconsciousness

_ _ _ _ _

afab hcs

art is obsessed with you whenever it's 'that time of the month' - you can barely get away from his wandering hands and quiet presence. he drops everything the moment you reach for your favourite snacks and heat pack, drags over a dark towel he keeps on hand for you. ever since he learnt that orgasms help relieve cramps and pain, he has felt a lot less selfish for wanting to ravage you while you're tender and bleeding. he has numerous photos of his bloodied cock framed by your ass cheeks or your warm cunt and he often takes videos on your phone of his length throbbing and oozing copious amounts of pink cum <3

art has an addiction to taking upskirt pictures of your puffy pussy imprint against your thin, practically see-through panties, still slick despite your embarrassment. his guilty pleasure is taking the pics when his cum is leaking from your hole, soaking the fabric

art will ask you to be bait for him - either through stripping down sensually and pressing your chest, ass and pussy against the windows of art’s current setup to entice horny, often intoxicated, onlookers late at night or indulging catcallers and inviting them to get it on with you back at the designated building, caressing their chest and crotch as you both giggle and meander inside. the clown always has your back and would not let you get hurt by the strangers at all, but the bait portion of his plan is extremely important to lull the victims into an optimistic headspace for them to ignore the shady setting

art pretends to talk and communicate with your cunt - acting out gestures as if holding a conversation with your clit while slowly coaxing you to cum and even gesturing at you to shush if you try to interrupt the important moment

eats devours pussy like a demon, a man starved. no hesitance and no restraint, he’s the type to suckle open mouthed kisses to your clit and fucks your dripping hole with his abnormally long tongue. nipping at your folds as he coaxes you to the edge with just a finger, tongue swirling in your slick as you cum - he is sloppy in his work but enthusiastically diligent with the cleanup, not a drop gets past his mouth. greasepaint might stain your thighs afterwards but it's a small price to pay for a talented clown's best efforts

art will find pretty lingerie for you to wear for him, parading around his hideout, making sure you know how hard he gets at your nipples and pussy covered delicately in lace

he flicks and circles your clit while you sleep, cumming all over your pussy before putting your panties back in place. he loves leaving little presents like that for you when you wake - a fuzzy head and a sticky and throbbing mess down there, strings and globs of cum connecting your thighs and the flimsy, soaked material

_ _ _ _ _

ftm hcs

art has never had a handsome toy with a self-lubricating hole before - his fascination with your t-dick leads to endless nights of him experimenting on you with his mouth, fingers and cock to see what makes you tick. his favourite pastime is suckling on your tender dick while he pulses his fingers against your cervix, your whole body jerking from sensitivity as his deft fingers circle your sweet spots

art will ask you to be bait for him - either through stripping down sensually and pressing your chest, ass and boypussy against the windows of art’s current setup to entice horny, often intoxicated, onlookers late at night or indulging catcallers and inviting them to get it on with you back at the designated building, caressing their chest and crotch as you both giggle and meander inside. the clown always has your back and would not let you get hurt by the strangers at all, but the bait portion of his plan is extremely important to lull the victims into an optimistic headspace for them to ignore the shady setting

he keeps a pair of your slick-stained boxers in his ol' bag of tricks, a little keepsake for his on-the-go orgasms - he's a sniffer for sure, securing it over his face so both his hands are free to use on his dick as he gets off to your scent

he scrapes his nails down your back whenever you fuck his tight ass, pale cock bobbing and leaking everywhere. he adores marking up your back with the red ridges of broken skin as he cums all over your chests, shooting warmth up and splattering it on your flushed neck

eats devours boypussy like a demon, a man starved. no hesitance and no restraint, he’s the type to suckle open mouthed kisses to your cock and fucks your dripping hole with his abnormally long tongue. nipping at your folds as he coaxes you to the edge with just a finger, tongue swirling in your slick as you cum - he is sloppy in his work but enthusiastically diligent with the cleanup, not a drop gets past his mouth. you both tiredly giggle after he's done - the face paint around his cheeks and lips is hopelessly smudged, especially after he licks his lips and grins at you. guess he'll have to redo it later, no harm done <3

he fucks you so hard and bruises your cervix to the point where you can only moan his name and whine when he properly pulls out and gives you water with a heatpack and blanket, genuinely scared he went too rough on your insides. if your legs fail after such a long night, he'll throw you over his shoulder or pick you up like royalty and use his inhuman strength to carry you around

_ _ _ _ _

mtf hcs

art the clown is thrilled to have a pretty toy with parts he's familiar with! his fingers nudge your prostate as he suckles on your tip to draw out your sweet noises. he takes you down his throat with ease, tongue lapping at your base - the combination of art's deft fingers working your hole and his hot throat clenching your length brings you to the edge embarrassingly fast. he's always had a thing for seeing his black lip paint smeared on your balls

art has an addiction to taking upskirt pictures of your bulge imprint against your thin, practically see-through panties, slick from your precum drooling and sticking to the fabric despite your embarrassment. his guilty pleasure is taking the pics when his cum is leaking from your hole

he insists on battering your prostate until you're shooting blanks - he never lets up on your poor hole until you're fully spent and your head is empty with only his name on your pretty lips

art will ask you to be bait for him - either through dressing up prettily and then stripping down sensually and pressing your bulge, chest and ass against the windows of art’s current setup to entice horny, often intoxicated, onlookers late at night or indulging catcallers and inviting them to get it on with you back at the designated building, caressing their chest and crotch as you both giggle and meander inside. the clown always has your back and would not let you get hurt by the strangers at all, but the bait portion of his plan is extremely important to lull the victims into an optimistic headspace for them to ignore the shady setting

he scrapes his nails down your back whenever you fuck his tight ass, pale cock bobbing and leaking everywhere. he adores marking up your back with the red ridges of broken skin as he cums all over your chests, shooting warmth up and splattering it on your flushed neck

the clown loves to have you dolled up in lingerie and parading infront of him, bulge and hard nipple pressed against the soft and dainty fabric. his cock gets visibly hard at the sight of you and his head spins at the sensation as you shyly offer to help with his urge to take you then and there

if you're desperate for gender-affirming surgery, art will hone his skills in surgery and sterilization to safely give you an orchiectomy - pun intended. he'll practice and go through the motions for weeks if it means you are happy and he gets to care for you

_ _ _ _ _

thanks for reading. lmk if you liked it, i'm writing this at 5am. if i got anything wrong, don't hesitate to tell me.

stay safe.

_ _ _ _ _

@stonerinthelonlycorner

[girlygguk]

crazy; jjk (m)

summary you know it sounds twisted. that most people would see hyungwon as the perfect boyfriend. healthy, balanced, all the things that relationships should be. that’s when you realized... you weren't like most people. but that's okay. because neither is jungkook.

pairing ceo!jk x employee!(f)reader

rating 18+ minors dni; smut, fluff, angst

genre coworkers to lovers au, established relationship

wordcount 15.5k

content jk 29 | yn 26, very jealous controlling and possessive jk, same for oc, spirited & bratty oc, jk is rich and spoils his girl, pet names, toxic relo, jk is a red flag, oc is a red flag, they’re obsessed w each other, bonnie n clyde ride or die type shit, soft yandere, drama, mc arguments, cursing, they get angry quick and over it quicker, bar fighting, jk punches a guy.. or two, blood, oc is roughly grabbed on arm by a male w/o consent, canon couple

warnings dom jk, sub oc, pre established traffic light sw system, daddy kink, consensual degradation, fingering (f rec), oral (f rec), cum eating, dirty talk, breeding kink, condomless p in v sex, oc has an IUD, multiple orgasms, creampie, kinda rough(?) sex but i think it ends quite softly, theyre dirty and in love!

a/n pls read all the warnings first & only proceed if ur comfortable!! these two are superr obsessively dependent and possessive so tread lightly baby 🙂‍↕️!! im kinda self conscious abt the smut but i like the fic part and i hope u do too <<3 lemme know if i missed any tags 🖤 mwah

There was something dangerous about him. Something you couldn’t help but be drawn to, no matter how much you knew you shouldn’t. It was like playing with fire—intoxicating, thrilling… stupid.

You knew it complicated things, maybe even made life harder, but you never had been one to back down from a challenge. And when someone like Jeon Jungkook—the kind of man who looked like pure trouble but made you feel more alive than you ever had—walked into your life, resisting him was never even an option.

It hadn’t always been like this. You used to date Park Hyungwon, after all.

Hyungwon was perfectly fine. Kind, sweet, thoughtful in all the ways that made him a good guy. The type who held open doors and asked if you wanted to split dessert. You’d met him through his cousin, Jimin—your colleague and an absolute angel on Earth. In fact, you ended up closer to Jimin than you ever were with Hyungwon.

Because Hyungwon? He was just… ordinary.

There was nothing wrong with ordinary. Some people needed that. They craved stability, predictability. But you? You realized a long time ago that you needed more. You craved intensity. You needed to feel like someone’s whole world. And when your boyfriend didn’t care who you were with, what you were doing, when he didn’t even notice if you went days without texting… well, you started to feel invisible.

You knew it sounded twisted. That most people would see Hyungwon as the perfect boyfriend. Healthy, balanced, all the things that relationships should be. But that’s when you realized... you weren’t like most people.

And then he entered the picture.

Jeon Jungkook, CEO of Jeon Corp, son of the late Jeon Jun-seo.

You’d been at Jeon Corp for three years now, starting as a temp and moving into a more permanent role. Everyone knew him—the young, ruthless leader who took over seamlessly and ran things with an iron grip after his father's passing. People admired him, respected him. Feared him.

It had been two years since you made it official with the man you knew was the epic love of your life. Before that, you were friends with benefits for—what, a week? Maybe less. You both knew right from the start that there was no going back to being just colleagues or fuck-buddies. He consumed you, and you reveled in every second of it.

In the early days of your relationship, you couldn’t help but worry. Maybe your promotion had less to do with your work ethic and more to do with Jungkook lusting for you. It was hard not to question it, especially when he was your boss, and you knew exactly how intense his desire for you was. But Jungkook shut that shit down fast.

He had hundreds of employees under him, most of whom he hadn’t even had a proper conversation with. He’d approached you solely because of your performance—your results catching his attention long before he even knew what you looked like. Jimin had confirmed it.

Still, you loved teasing him about it—how he’d basically been eye-fucking you the entire time during your first real meeting. Jungkook never denied it. He would just give you that cheeky, devilish grin of his, reminding you just how that meeting had concluded—with you, bent right over his desk.

Now, sitting at Lumi’s bar with the soft murmur of conversations and the clink of glasses fading into background noise, your phone buzzed with a new message. A smile tugged at the corners of your lips, heat spreading through your veins as you read his words.

My Love 10:43 PM Why is your location off? Sent with Siri

10:43 PM Turn it on. Now. Sent with Siri

You bit your lip, already imagining the storm brewing inside him. He was driving, and now probably wasn’t the best time to mess with him. But you were still pissed. And the brat in you couldn’t resist poking him just a little more.

You 10:47 PM i'm out, my love.

His reply was immediate, almost before you even hit send.

My Love 10:47 PM Not in the mood baby. Turn it on

You rolled your eyes, stifling a laugh as you took another sip of your drink. You could picture him now, pulling the car over, typing furiously with that adorable, frustrated frown. Oh, he was pissed—but that only made it more fun. You let him stew for a few minutes longer.

You 10:52 PM bad day at work? :(

His next texts came in a flurry, and you could almost feel the heat in them.

My Love 10:52 PM Why the fuck are you taking so long to respond? Who are you with?

10:53 PM You didnt tell me you were going out tonight and I just went all the way to your fucking house to find out you’re not even there? And your car’s gone? You drove to go out??? Are you fucking crazy?

His jealousy stoked a fire inside you. You knew better than to test his patience... but you just couldn’t help yourself.

You pulled up your camera and hit record. It started with your legs—crossed elegantly on the stool, the hem of your little black dress riding up just enough to tease. You let your foot swing, the glossy polish on your toes catching the dim light. The clip was short, but you knew Jungkook would recognize the bar in an instant.

Then, you flipped the camera. Your face came into view, framed by a pout and the neckline of your dress—the replacement for the one he’d ripped clean off you the last time some idiot tried to touch you. Jungkook had beaten the guy to a pulp, of course, which was why you were both banned from JaeJae's nightclub downtown. But you hadn’t cared then, and you certainly didn’t now.

Just before you stopped recording, you made sure the camera caught a glimpse of the arm next to you—the arm belonging to the guy who had been sulking since you brushed off his lame advances. You had been ignoring him ever since you walked in, but apparently, he was as clueless as he was underwhelming.

You hadn’t expected to be at this bar alone. In fact, you were supposed to be home with Jungkook tonight. He’d promised an early finish—four o’clock, to be exact—and you’d planned a cute pamper night for the two of you. Face masks, cheesy rom-coms. You even baked cookies.

But then, three o’clock rolled around, and your phone rang. His voice on the other end was apologetic, practically rehearsed at this point. He had to stay late. Again. Not even just a little late—ten-fucking-thirty late. Two hours past his usual finishing time.

You were livid. He promised you tonight.

You hadn’t even let him finish his sentence before hanging up, ignoring the rapid flood of missed calls and texts as you angrily dumped the chocolate chip cookies in the trash.

You were so pissed you might’ve even made his assistant, Hoseok, cry when Jungkook sent him over to check on you. Poor guy. You’d apologize later. Maybe.

By the time 10:32 hit and your phone was still silent, that pit of anger in your stomach twisted into something much sharper. You pulled up the security cameras at his office—and, of course, the room was empty. His briefcase, his keys… all gone.

He had left work without even telling you.

He always texted you when he was leaving the office. You knew there wasn’t a chance in hell it was infidelity; that wasn’t even a possibility. Cheating wasn’t something either of you entertained. But the silence? The lack of communication? That cut.

Sure, you’d been ignoring his calls ever since he canceled on you… but you were allowed to be pissed right now. He? Was not.

When your doorbell camera alert went off at 10:42, right before you were about to check his location, you felt a mix of relief and annoyance rise in your chest. You pulled up the feed to see him standing there—frustrated, fist clenched around his phone, clearly ready for a confrontation.

But you weren’t home.

You were here, at this grimy, sticky bar. Waiting.

The guy next to you shifted in his seat again, breaking you out of your thoughts. He was still there, lingering, despite your obvious disinterest. But honestly, you were kind of glad he hadn’t left.

Because the response you got from Jungkook when you hit send on that video?

Absolutely fucking perfect.

My Love 10:55 PM I'll be there in five minutes.

10:56 PM And if there is anyone sitting next to you who doesn't have a cunt or the name Park Jimin, theyre fucking dead Y/N

10:56 PM And you’re fucking walking home

You suppressed a laugh as you wiped the sugary remnants of your drink from your lips, knowing better than anyone just how serious he was.

As much as you hated to admit it, you loved the way Jungkook loved you. His possessiveness didn’t bother you. In fact, it drove you wild. That definitely made you as much of a red flag as him. But did you care?

A few minutes passed as you took some selfies and uploaded them to your Instagram story, twirling the straw in your glass absentmindedly. Then you remembered the idiot next to you.

"Oh," you said, clearing your throat. He perked up immediately, pulling his beer away from his lips as he turned toward you, eyes lighting up in anticipation. Gross. "You might want to leave."

His smile faltered, confusion knitting his brow. "What?"

You blinked, tilting your head slightly as if he hadn’t just heard you. Leaning in closer, you repeated yourself. "I said, you might want to leave."

He chuckled, leaning in way too close, his breath hot and stale. “Why would I do that? Sitting next to a pretty thing like you? You look a little bored, baby… I can keep you entertained.”

You suppressed a gag. "Hard pass." You shuddered, pulling back. “But really, my boyfriend’s on his way, and he’s pissed. You might want to move down a seat or two.”

He just laughed, lifting his beer again and taking a long gulp, his eyes creepily never leaving yours. "I can handle myself just fine, sweetheart. It’s hot that you’re worried about me, though."

God. You’d never been drier in your entire life.

"Your funeral," you muttered, rolling your eyes as you turned back to your phone.

A few more minutes passed in silence, and just when you thought the idiot might’ve finally left you alone, you felt him shift again, turning toward you like he was about to start up another conversation. You sighed, not actually wanting to watch another guy get the shit beaten out of him. So, you grabbed your purse and your half-empty glass, ready to leave.

But just as you slid off the stool, his hand wrapped around your arm.

"Where are you going, baby?” His voice dripped with sleaze. “This playing hard-to-get thing was sexy at first, but now it’s getting kinda boring.”

Your stomach turned, and you yanked your arm from his grip, disgust curling your lip. "Eugh, could you be any more of a stereotypical douche? Get a fucking life."

You took a step to leave, but his hand clamped down on your arm again, harder this time.

“You’ve got a mouth on you, huh?” His voice dropped, and a sickening grin spread across his face as his fingers dug deeper into your skin. “That’s okay. I like ’em that way.”

Rage flared in your chest, hot and immediate. Without thinking, your hand swung forward, and the rest of your drink splashed across his smug face. His eyes widened in shock, the liquid dripping off his chin, but you weren’t finished.

Your free hand darted into the outer pocket of your purse, fingers wrapping around the pink pepper spray canister Jungkook bought for you. You whipped it out, aiming the nozzle directly at his face and pressed down hard.

“Fuck!” he screamed, stumbling back, hands flying to his eyes. But you didn’t let up. The adrenaline thrummed in your veins as you kept spraying, ignoring the yelps and curses spilling from his lips as he clawed at his burning face.

“You crazy fucking bitch! Stop!”

“God, you piece of shit!” you yelled, uncaring of the stares now fixed on you. “Don’t ever touch anyone when they don’t want you to! Fucking pig!”

The can felt significantly lighter by the time you finally stopped, and the guy was practically on his knees, whimpering. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw the bartender waving security in your direction and your eyes rolled to the back of your head. Typical. He’d been close enough to hear everything, but now he wanted to intervene?

“Cunt,” you muttered under your breath, slamming your empty glass on the bar before turning to leave.

“I’m going, I’m going,” you scoffed as the guard approached, adjusting your purse on your shoulder and smoothing down the hem of your dress. As you turned to walk away, you pulled out your phone, thumb hovering over Jungkook’s contact.

But before you could make it far, a heavy hand pressed into your back, shoving you toward the exit.

“What the fuck are you doing?” you snapped, stumbling as the security guard forced you forward. “I said I’m leaving. I’m just calling my boyfriend. Let go of me, freak—”

“Ma’am, don’t speak to me like that,” the guard growled, his voice deep and commanding. “Get outside, now.”

“I'm going, you big loof. Can you at least let me wait in the bathroom? If my boyfriend sees me standing outside alone, he’s gonna—”

"I don’t care what he’s gonna do to you, ma’am. Keep moving."

You almost laughed. "Do to me?" You were about to tell him how wrong he had it—that he should be the one worried—when suddenly, the hand on your back vanished. You stopped, brushing yourself off, ready to turn and gloat.

But it wasn’t your words that made him let go. It was Jungkook.

Your very angry boyfriend had shoved the guard—who was easily twice his size—backwards so hard the guy stumbled, nearly falling over.

Jungkook’s eyes were wild, flicking between you and the security guard, a dangerous mix of concern and pure rage.

"Oh, hi, baby—"

“Get in the car,” he growled, his voice low and deadly as he handed you his keys. “And lock the fucking doors. Now.”

His tone sent a shiver down your spine, and you bit back the urge to argue. Instead, you took the keys and turned toward the door, but the security guard wasn’t backing down.

"You and your bitch need to leave now," the guard snapped. "You’re banned from this bar."

Another one? You almost pouted, but he kept going.

"We have you on CCTV. If the victim presses charges, you’ll be contacted."

“What victim?” You laughed, taking a step toward the guy. “You’re gonna let that pig press charges?”

Jungkook’s head snapped toward you, jaw clenched, staying firmly between you and the goon. “What is he talking about? Who’s pressing charges?”

You rolled your eyes, crossing your arms as you gestured toward the guy still rubbing his eyes with a bar towel, water dripping down his face. “That idiot. But it’s fine, baby. I finally got to use the pepper spray you gave me,” you added, poking Jungkook’s stomach with a giddy smile.

His lips twitched, but his expression stayed serious. “Why’d you have to use it?”

You shrugged, tilting your head, giving him that innocent look you knew drove him crazy. "He kept trying to touch me, but don’t worry, I handled it. Let’s go now, please."

But Jungkook’s gaze was already darkening, his eyes now fixed on the pathetic excuse of a man across the room. You could see the anger rising, feel the tension radiating off him, and you knew he was seconds away from losing his shit.

“Let’s just go, love,” you urged, voice rushing as you eyed the situation. “It’s over now.”

The security guard had disappeared to fetch backup, and you couldn’t help but smirk at the thought. The fact that he needed help dealing with Jungkook was almost laughable. Your man might not have been the biggest guy in the room, but you knew that shove must have rattled him, seeing as though the sidekick he'd now acquired was even bigger than he was.

And they were both stomping toward you.

You turned to warn Jungkook, “Baby—” but as your eyes shifted back to him, he was no longer at your side.

Your gaze snapped to the bar. There he was—storming up to the sleazebag still nursing his wet eyes with a towel, completely unaware that your furious boyfriend was closing in behind him. Ugh, he was like an angry, sexy bunny.

"Fuck," you muttered under your breath, pushing past a couple of people and hurrying over as quick as you could in your three-thousand-dollar stilettos.

As turned on as you were by the sight of him right now, you really didn’t need him missing work tomorrow because he'd been locked up for the night.

And then you, of course, also missing work because you had to sleep in the uncomfortable plastic chair next to his cell, since the officers wouldn’t accept bail again until he had completed his twelve-hour minimum hold.

You were almost there when you saw it—Jungkook’s hand gripping the back of the guy’s collar, yanking him back with so much force that the idiot’s eyes flew open in shock, panic flooding his face as he realized what was happening.

You bit your lip, trying to shove away the image that popped into your head of Jungkook’s hand tangled in your hair, pulling you up in that exact same way when he had you beneath him, forcing your eyes on his as he drove into you from behind.

God, not now, Y/N.

“Koo, baby, wait—” you called, but it was too late. He was gone.

Before the guy could even think about pushing Jungkook off, your boyfriend slammed his head down onto the bar with a sickening crack that echoed through the room. You winced, feeling the pain in your own skull just by watching it.

“Fuckkkk,” you hissed, finally reaching him and grabbing his arm. His muscles were rigid, vibrating with barely controlled rage. “Baby, come on. Security is coming—let’s go—”

But your words didn’t register. Jungkook was in another world, eyes burning with an almost feral intensity as he jerked the guy back up.

Without hesitation, he reeled back and delivered a brutal punch to the guy’s face, the thud of knuckles against bone filled the space as the man’s head snapped to the side, his knees buckling as he collapsed to the floor in a heap.

You sucked your teeth in frustration, but honestly, you couldn’t care less if the guy sat there on the ground and bled out, truly. What you did care about was the thought of Jimin covering your shift tomorrow because you had to spend the night bailing Jungkook out of jail again.

“Okay, my love, that’s enough. Let’s go—”

“Baby, go and—” Jungkook growled, his voice dangerous and low, as he lifted the guy again. His fist swung forward, colliding with the man’s nose, and you winced at the sharp crunch that followed. The guy collapsed again, shaky hands cradling his face as blood spurted from his mouth.

Jungkook’s head whipped around, his dark gaze locking onto you with a ferocity that sent a chill down your spine. “Go and get in the fucking car,” he snapped.

“No, you fucking idiot, come with me—”

Before you could finish your sentence, your feet were suddenly off the ground, the world spinning as you were slung over a massive shoulder. It took you a second to process what the fuck was happening.

"What the fuck!" you screamed, pounding your fists against the back of the goliath security guard who was carrying you like a sack of potatoes. Your purse fell to the ground as the guy just kept walking toward the exit like you were nothing. "Put me down, you fucking freak!"

Through your distorted, lopsided vision, you caught sight of the other, even bigger, guard heading for Jungkook while you were being dragged away.

The second your boyfriend saw what was happening to you, the loser he had been beating on was forgotten. His eyes locked on the guard manhandling you, and fury ignited in his expression.

The guard approaching barely had time to take a step before Jungkook threw him to the ground like he weighed nothing. His unbuttoned dress shirt sleeves exposed the veins in his arms, rippling as he stormed toward you with a look that promised murder. Yummy.

You were still smacking the back of the giant guard carrying you, panic creeping in as the door got closer and closer. "Baby, my purse!" you whined, halting your attack for a second and pointing to the ground. Jungkook was already stalking past it. "Pick it up!"

He grunted in frustration, turning on his heel to grab the fallen Prada before charging back after you. 

The guard reached the door just as Jungkook caught up, and you braced yourself for the moment you’d be tossed out like trash. But in one quick motion, Jungkook grabbed your outstretched hand and used his other hand to grab you by the bum, pulling you off the guard’s shoulder.

You beamed as he set you back on your feet, happily taking your purse from him while he just rolled his eyes. Then, he turned and sent his fist straight to the giant’s jaw. The guard actually stumbled backward, clearly feeling the weight of the hit, and for a brief moment, you thought it was over.

But then the bastard straightened up, cracked his neck like a fucking terminator, and stepped forward again, completely unfazed.

"What. The. Fuck," you seethed, your eyes widening in disbelief. You grabbed Jungkook’s hand, tugging him back, but he was already mirroring the guard’s steps, ready to go again.

"Nope," you muttered, wrapping your arms around his bicep and using every ounce of strength to drag him toward the door.

You knew he could easily overpower you, and you could feel the tension in his muscles as he debated it. But after a beat, he scoffed, shooting a final glare at the guard, who had stopped in place, phone in hand as he watched you haul Jungkook outside.

Probably calling the cops, taking down your registration—whatever the fuck. You could already imagine the panic on Jeon Co.’s PR team’s faces when they caught wind of this fuck fest of a night.

You finally let go of Jungkook’s arm when you got outside, your hand diving into your purse for his car keys. He followed close behind, silent but simmering with rage, as you both made your way to his car. It was parked right next to the entrance—definitely not in an actual spot—but he clearly didn’t care. He’d probably left it there to get to you faster.

As soon as the cold air hit your face and you and Jungkook were away from everyone, it’s like all your anger from earlier flooded right back.

You marched straight toward the driver’s seat, just wanting to get the hell out of there, but before you could reach for the door handle, Jungkook’s bruised hand snaked around your waist and pulled you back against him. He plucked the keys from your hand with ease, scoffing under his breath as he ushered you toward the passenger side.

"Give me the fucking keys, Jungkook—"

He let out a dark, humorless laugh. "First of all, you’ve been drinking. Don’t be fucking stupid. Second of all, why do you sound like you’re mad at me? I’m mad at you!"

"I had a fucking lemonade, I didn’t drink, you psycho!" you snapped, spinning on your heel to face him. "And, I’m sorry, mad at me?" You shoved his hand off your stomach and made a grab for the keys, but he slipped them into his pocket, resting his hand right over them like he was daring you to try.

"You’re the one who just went ape-shit and beat half the bar to a fucking pulp!"

"Don’t be dramatic," he rolled his eyes, leaning casually against the car like he hadn’t just trashed multiple people inside.

"You just fucking—"

He narrowed his eyes dangerously. "And why am I here in the first place, Y/N?"

"Oh, I don’t know," you snapped back, voice dripping with sarcasm. "Maybe because you’re a—"

You cut yourself off this time, catching the slight arch of his brows—just a fraction.

His head tilted, that infuriating smirk tugging at his lips.

"I’m a what, baby?" His voice was low, amused, taunting.

You squinted at him, but he just waited, utterly patient, like he had all the time in the world.

"I’m a what?"

Your eyes rolled to the sky in frustration, and you turned your back on him, yanking on the door handle in frustration. But of course, it was locked. You didn’t even bother looking back at him.

"Open the door, Jungkook."

"Sure," he jingled the keys in his pocket with infuriating calmness, "When you finish your sentence. I’m a what?"

You glared over your shoulder at him, biting back a snarl as your eyes raked down his stupidly gorgeous frame. Tousled hair, the top two buttons of his dress shirt sluttily popped open, bruised and bloody hands casually tucked into the pockets of his designer slacks. So fucking annoying.

"You," you started, eyes narrowing as you stepped back. "Are sleeping alone tonight." You punctuated it with a sarcastic smile before pushing off the car and storming down the street toward your own.

The second you started walking, you heard his footsteps trailing after you like a shadow. You just shook your head, your tone clipped as you bit out, "Go home, Jungkook. Your home. I’m sleeping at my own place tonight."

"Mm, and how do you plan on getting there?" His voice followed, calm—too calm.

"Hmm, take a wild fucking guess, genius," you snapped, diving back into your purse to grab your keys. But your hand came up empty.

"Mother fucker," you hissed, spinning around to find yourself face-to-face with his broad chest. You took a breath, glaring up at him. "Give me my keys."

"When you finish what you were saying," he replied lowly.

You scoffed, incredulous. "You’ll give me my keys and let me drive home if I finish my sentence?" You almost laughed in his face, knowing damn well he was full of shit.

"No," he shrugged, his honesty almost infuriating, "but I still want you to say it."

You groaned, exasperated. "Why is it so important to you—"

"Everything you say is important to me." His tone was unflinchingly direct. "And I want to know what you think of me."

For a split second, your heart tugged at his words, even as the anger bubbling in your chest fought to take over.

You weren’t mad at him for going in there and smashing that dirty sleaze’s head into the counter. You weren’t mad that he had taken on the Goliath twins like a reckless maniac with no concern for his own well-being.

You were mad because he lied to you.

"A liar." The words slipped from your lips, quiet but cutting, your eyes locking with his.

The flicker of pain that flashed across his gaze was immediate. He hadn’t been expecting that. He had braced himself for you to call him a possessive jerk, a jealous asshole, even a fucking loser. But not that.

"Baby," Jungkook swallowed, his beaten hands slowly gliding down to caress the sides of the dress he both loved and hated seeing you in. "I’m so sorry."

"Yeah," you nodded, rolling your eyes as you turned your head away just as he tried to lean down for a kiss. "Always are, huh?"

"Please, don’t," he sighed softly, his breath warm against your neck as his nose nuzzled into your skin. It was hard to believe this was the same man who had buried his fist into a guy’s jaw just five minutes ago. “I would never leave your side if I didn’t have to. You know that. You have to know that.”

"And you just had to stay back tonight of all nights?" Your words were sharp, cutting. "Couldn’t get one of your two fucking assistants to carry some of the workload? Or maybe that slut from level 7 who’s always begging to take some stress off her ‘big, hunky, hardworking boss?’"

Jungkook let out a low chuckle, nipping at your neck in amusement when you imitated Heejin’s voice. She hadn’t ever said anything quite that bold—obviously. You would’ve had him fire her on the spot if she had. But her lingering glances, the way she was always offering herself up for extra tasks, the way she hovered around… yeah, her actions spoke louder than words, and it made your blood fucking boil.

"Our board meeting ran way overtime, and they sprung last-minute critical amendments on us for the Cypher Project, baby," he mumbled into your skin, his lips brushing along the curve of your neck. "You know no one else could’ve handled it, or I would’ve been out of there."

"Okay." You nodded, lips pressing together as you let him kiss your neck for a while, but your mind was still racing.

"Okay?" he echoed in a hum, his mouth moving lower, pressing another soft kiss just above your collarbone. He sounded almost suspicious at how easily you seemed to be dropping the argument.

"Okay," you repeated, still letting him kiss you, your body slightly relaxing under his touch.

He hummed again, but then something clicked. No. This was too easy. You were never this quick to drop an argument. There wasn’t nearly enough groveling.

"Baby—"

Before he could finish, your hand shot into his left pocket, snatching the keys and shoving him you off with your other hand. He stumbled back, eyes wide with surprise as he barely caught his balance. You didn’t wait around to see him recover; you just turned and headed straight for your car.

Of course, he followed.

"Baby, come on—"

You didn’t stop, your pace quickening as you adjusted your handbag on your shoulder. "Nope. Don’t care."

"Baby, I'm fucking sorry."

"Uh-huh," you muttered, clicking the button to unlock your car before yanking the door open. He was right behind you, still trying.

“You’re not seriously leaving me right now, are you?”

You shot him a cold glance, leaning on the car door. “Yep. Maybe you should call Heejin—see if she’s free tonight. She can keep my side of the bed warm,” you spat, sliding into the driver’s seat.

His jaw ticked, tongue poking at the side of his cheek as he leaned back, letting you slam the door in his face. The engine roared to life, filling the thick silence between you two, but he didn’t even flinch. Instead, he nodded, something dark flashing in his eyes as his teeth toyed with his lip ring.

“You know I’m just gonna follow you, right?” His low voice carried through the glass, calm as ever.

You rolled your eyes, throwing the car into gear and pulling out of the lot.

But you weren’t the least bit surprised when, just a few moments later, you caught sight of his car pulling out right behind you.

He was home before you.

Not that you were surprised. You had gotten the doorbell alert two streets over, and it only made you scoff, your foot easing off the gas as you slowed down even more, wanting to make him wait. You had briefly considered going to Jimin’s for the night, but you knew better. Even though Jungkook had a soft spot for his assistant, there was no way in hell he’d let you sleep over at another guy’s house, and you weren't about to drag Jimin into that.

Sliding out of your car, you said nothing, grabbing your coat and purse from the passenger seat before locking it. Jungkook was already perched on your front doorstep, his head snapping up the second your tires crunched against the driveway.

“Baby, I need you to turn your location back on. I get it. You made your point—”

“Don’t start, Jungkook.” You sighed, your heels clicking against the stone steps as you brushed past him to unlock the front door.

You didn’t even bother closing the door behind you as you walked in, knowing he was right behind, the sound of it clicking shut as he locked it for you. Your purse and coat landed carelessly on the hallway table, and your fingers instinctively massaged the soreness creeping up the side of your neck. Without a word, Jungkook crouched down and slipped off your heels, lining them up neatly next to his shoes.

It was late, and the exhaustion that had been chasing you all night was finally sinking in. Your body ached, your mind was running on fumes, and all you really wanted was to crawl into bed and sleep. But something in the air told you that wasn’t happening any time soon. Whether it would be another argument, angry makeup sex, or another night of kicking Jungkook to the couch—only to lie sleepless for an hour before dragging his ass back to your bed—you weren’t sure yet.

Your steps were slow as you made your way to the bathroom, flicking the light on before leaning heavily against the sink. You cracked your neck, your eyes closing for a brief moment as the exhaustion took over.

You didn’t even flinch when Jungkook’s chest pressed against your back, his strong arms slipping around you as he reached for the faucet to wash his hands. The water ran pinkish, swirling down the drain as it cleared the blood and dirt from his knuckles, but you weren’t concerned. He knew how to throw a punch safely—years of boxing and training made sure of that. This was very mild compared to the damage he’d done in the early days of your relationship. Back then, you’d spent more time getting him unbanned from clubs than actually enjoying them.

He dried his hands slowly, taking his time before reaching for one of your hair ties on the counter. His fingers worked through your hair, gathering it into a loose ponytail.

You were far too drained to even consider pushing him away—not that you would’ve, even if you weren’t. Upset? Sure. But truly mad? Not really.

You knew exactly what you were getting into when you fell for a wildly successful, young CEO. Long nights, last-minute cancellations, missed plans—it was the nature of his world. Normally, you accepted it. But tonight had been different. Tonight was supposed to be one of the rare, precious evenings you finally had time to spend together after months of clashing schedules. You’d planned for it, gotten excited about it, and then… it was ruined. So, yeah, you were pissed.

But at the same time, you understood. The Cypher Project was monumental for Jeon Corp. Jungkook had poured nearly a year of blood, sweat, and no sleep into it. It was his baby, and only a handful of people were allowed anywhere near it—his assistants, his CCO, and you. This project mattered. But god, you missed him.

This, though? This was just typical Jeon Jungkook groveling. He’d pamper you, apologize at least a thousand times, buy you another bag or three, and then fuck you until you couldn’t remember why you were mad in the first place. The order of events varied; the bags sometimes took a day or two to arrive.

Once your hair was up, he gently spun you around and lifted you onto the bathroom counter. Your eyes remained shut as he moved between your legs, his long arms reaching for your skincare products. You didn’t have to tell him anything—he knew your routine better than you did at this point.

Before he got started, you cracked one eye open, just for a moment, grabbing his right hand and holding it softly in your lap. Your thumb traced over his knuckles, following the tiny splits. One was still bleeding slightly, while the other looked like it would be bruising by morning.

“Getting better, baby. Barely any blood this time,” you hummed, lifting his hand to your lips and pressing a gentle kiss to his knuckles before closing your eyes again, waiting.

He smiled at that, though you couldn’t see it. The weight of the towel settled on your lap, and his hand left yours, resting lightly on your chest as he leaned you down, cupping warm water from the sink to wet your face. You stayed still, letting him move through the motions, only shifting when he needed you to. His touch was precise but gentle as he massaged the cleanser into your skin.

Your toes wiggled absentmindedly on either side of his thighs, tapping softly against him while he moved through your products, handling each one with practiced ease.

Jungkook was quiet for a moment before he finally spoke.

"I want to move in with you."

You didn’t open your eyes—mostly because your face was covered in toner—but the way your feet stopped swinging and your eyebrows shot up said everything.

“Well, that’s one way to grovel,” you muttered under your breath, leaning down blindly to rinse your face. Jungkook cupped his hand, helping you wash off the spots you missed before gently wiping your face dry with the towel. He pressed a quick kiss to your lips through the fabric.

Cute, you thought.

“Gross,” you mumbled, the faintest smile tugging at your lips.

He didn’t respond, just slipped his hands down your bare legs, wrapping them securely around his waist. You tugged the towel down and blinked up at his pretty face. He just stood there, quiet, watching you. Waiting.

"Are you waiting for something?" you asked, raising an eyebrow.

He bit his lip, barely concealing a smile. “Hmm. Is that how you’re going to be?”

“I don’t know what you mean…”

“So your answer is no, then.” He hummed.

“My answer is nothing because you didn’t ask me a question,” you retorted, brattily swatting his bum with your foot, the light tap making him smirk.

“It’s going to happen eventually,” he said, his tone certain, almost mocking, as he leaned down to brush his lips against yours. His hand caught your ankle, stopping your wandering toe from getting too close to the no-go zone. Well, except that one ti—

“May as well get it out of the way, baby.”

“Oh,” you laughed, amusement coloring your voice as you unwrapped your legs from his waist, resting them on the counter. “Glad you consider the next step in our relationship something we should just get out of the way.”

His eyes sparkled with amusement as he pulled your legs back down, positioning himself firmly between them again, his hands settling possessively on your thighs. “You know what I mean,” he murmured, his voice dipping into a low growl.

“You already know I’d do anything with you, baby,” you sighed, rolling your eyes as your feet lifted back up to drum lightly against his bum. “But I’m annoyed that you asked me this right after an argument. You’re just doing what you think will make me happy—”

The cold, metallic sensation on your thigh interrupted your sentence. Frowning, you glanced down to see his tattooed hand resting on your skin, something small and cool pressed beneath his palm.

Your brows furrowed. “Move your hand, Kookie.”

He didn’t move, his gaze locking with yours. His eyes were serious—more serious than you’d seen in a long while. And that was saying something. Jungkook was always confident, always certain about your relationship, but this… this was different.

“Y/N,” he said softly, his tongue flicking at his lip ring.

“Yes?” you asked, your voice softening as your finger reached up to gently swat his tongue away before you adjusted his lip ring back into place.

“You know how much I love you, right? Like, really know how in love with you I am?” His voice was so genuine, his eyes searching yours intently.

Your head tilted slightly as you swallowed the urge to tease him. The feeling of that little cool object under his palm had your mind racing. You already knew exactly what it was, and if you’d been wearing underwear right now, they’d be fucking soaked.

“I do,” you nodded just as seriously, your hands resting on the counter on either side of your thighs as you leaned forward, waiting for his pouty lips to meet yours. He didn’t make you wait long, leaning down immediately, humming as you gently suckled on his tongue and over his lip ring before pulling back.

“I know, baby. I feel it every day." You spoke against his lips, giving them a soft peck before pulling back a little, "I’m so lucky to have you all to myself. I love you just as much, my darling. I hope you know that.”

“I do, baby.” He nodded, leaning down to brush his pretty nose against yours. “You’re it for me, angel. There’s no one after you. That, I know.”

“Mmh,” you grunted in delight, your nose scrunching as your hand snaked around the back of his neck, pulling him down to your lips, hard.

Jungkook melted into you instantly, his hands finding their way up your body as he kissed you with the kind of need that made your entire body hum. His fingers curled into the back of your hair, pulling you deeper into the kiss, and you moaned softly against his mouth, just as his hands moved lower.

“Oh my god,” you mumbled, breaking the kiss suddenly as your eyes dropped to the now-uncovered little piece of metal resting on your thigh.

Tears welled up in your eyes the moment you saw it. Your hand darted down, snatching up the now-warm key like it was made of glass, your fingers trembling as you inspected it. This wasn’t a key to his penthouse—you already had one of those.

This was new. Bigger. And turning you the fuck on.

Jungkook's bunny teeth grazed his lip ring, a rare flicker of hesitation crossing his face as he watched you silently. Jeon Jungkook didn’t get nervous. He was rich, successful, gorgeous, and had the hottest girl he had ever seen in his life all to himself. But even he couldn’t deny that his heart was beating a little fast, or whatever.

“Baby, fuck," you choked out, your brows furrowing as the tears threatened to spill over. You looked up at him, still clutching the key. "You fucking... ugh!"

Your hand gripped the collar of his shirt, yanking him back down to you. You kissed him again, deep and needy, your lips crashing against his with a desperation you couldn’t quite name.

"Love me that much, hm?" you mumbled between kisses, your voice husky, body arching into him as his tattooed hands slid down your sides, long fingers squeezing around the soft flesh. "Bought me a fucking house, huh, baby?"

Jungkook’s smirk brushed against your lips, so cocky, so him. “Well, I’m not fucking renting it.”

A loud laugh bubbled out of you, muffled by his mouth still pressed against yours. It was cut short when his tongue slipped past your parted lips, hot and familiar, moving with practiced ease.

His tongue... fuck, with the number of times and places you’d had it in your body, you were sure you could pick it out from a lineup blindfolded. Skilled, wet, with that lingering touch of cigarette. Fucking perfect.

You grunted against his mouth, your hand blindly reaching to set the key on the counter without pulling away. “Told you to stop smoking.”

“Told you to get fucked,” he hummed back, his words vibrating on your tongue as his hands slid from your hips to your ass, gripping hard enough to make you gasp before pulling you flush against his growing bulge.

“Cunt,” you giggled, your fingers tangling around the back of his neck, pulling him in deeper, your tongue chasing that smoky flavor as heat pulsed between your legs. The softest whine escaped your lips as you swallowed his taste.

“Bitch,” he mumbled lowly, tattooed fingers giving a dirty squeeze to your ass, brows furrowing in delight as his hips ground into yours, the thick, hard length of him pressing between your thighs. Even through the layers of fabric, the friction sent a needy throb straight to your clit.

Your nails scratched lightly against the nape of his neck, and just as you were about to bite down on his tongue, he suddenly pulled back, leaving your lips parted in a confused pout.

“What?” you whined, trying to tug him back down to your mouth, but he wasn’t budging. His eyes were locked in place.

On your crotch.

Oh.

“Y/N.” His voice dropped, deeper, more dangerous.

“Yes, my love?” you blinked innocently, tugging at the collar of his shirt. He didn’t move.

“Are you not wearing fucking panties?”

“Um,” you pursed your lips, pretending to think. “Would you believe me if I said I was?”

Your boyfriend scoffed sorely, giving a bitter nod before peeling himself from you completely and walking out of the bathroom.

You sat there for a second, blinking, frowning at the sight of him walking away, watching how the thick muscles in his back rippled beneath his shirt. God, you just wanted to run your tongue over every inch of that perfect, sinful skin, remembering all the times you had gotten off just by riding that big fucking back—

Shit.

“Baby!” you called after him with a pout, hopping off the counter and ignoring the sticky feeling between your thighs as your feet hit the floor. You wobbled slightly, legs stiff from sitting too long. With a quick kiss to the key resting beside the sink, you dropped it into your jewelry case and scurried after your angry boyfriend.

“Kookie, hold on…” The sound of your footsteps echoed down the hallway, needy and impatient.

This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. You were really pissed when he canceled, okay, and so you did the one thing you knew would get under his skin... going commando in public when he wasn’t around.

You fully expected him to find out at the bar or during some angry foreplay at home. Then, he’d get all sexy, possessive, and you’d end up screaming his name so loud your neighbors would complain again.

But not like this. Not after he’d been so gentle, taking your makeup off with soft, careful touches. Not after he’d just given you the key to the fucking house he bought for the two of you! He was probably feeling all soft and vulnerable, having just taken such a big step in your relationship...

You know, people didn’t really get it—but deep down, your boyfriend really was just a big, cuddly teddy bear. Sure, a teddy bear with like three assault charges, but that’s besides the point.

God. Fuck, fuck, fuck!

Jungkook didn’t stop. He rounded the corner into your bedroom, shoulders stiff, jaw clenched.

You followed him in, flicking on the light just in time to see him unbuttoning his shirt, quietly tugging it free from where it had been tucked into his slacks. His back was to you, standing near your vanity, jaw tight with restraint, anger radiating off him in waves.

The muscles in his broad shoulders flexed as you stepped closer, your palms sliding up the expanse of his back.

"Baby, I'm—"

"Don't." His voice was low, firm—a quiet command cutting off any apology on the tip of your tongue. He pulled his shirt off, tossing it over the chair beside him before his hand moved to his belt, the metallic clink sounding sharper in the silence of the room.

You sighed softly, pressing a kiss to his warm, bare shoulder, the skin still taut with tension. Your forehead rested against his back as your arms wrapped around his waist, holding him close. “Are you mad at me?”

"Mhm." He scoffed, pulling his belt through the loops and throwing it onto the growing pile of clothes.

Without a word, he shrugged off your hold, his back stiff as he walked over to your dresser. Opening the middle drawer, he pulled out one of his shirts, and without even looking back at you, he held it out.

You didn’t hesitate, taking it from his hand. He didn’t need to say anything—Jungkook never wore shirts to bed. Your fingers slipped behind your back, tugging down the zipper of your dress before you let the fabric fall in a pool at your feet.

His eyes caught your movement in the mirror, and he scoffed softly, watching as you unclasped your bra. The bra slipped down, the absence of panties now glaringly obvious. His expression tightened as you slid his shirt over your head, the oversized fabric falling to mid-thigh.

Jungkook unbuttoned his slacks in silence, shoving them off until he stood in just his briefs. He bent down, gathering both of your discarded clothes before disappearing into the bathroom to toss them into the hamper.

You heard the water running as you pulled the band from your hair and padded toward the bathroom, wanting to brush your teeth too. But before you could enter, he stepped out, his tall frame blocking the doorway.

"Get in bed," he said sternly, leaving no room for argument.

You pouted but turned around, dragging your feet toward the bed. From the way he flicked off the light behind you, it was clear you weren’t getting dicked down tonight. Jungkook always kept the lights on when he was fucking you—he liked to see everything properly. You frowned as you crawled under the covers.

"My love," you started softly, watching his back as he climbed into bed, turning to face the window. He didn’t respond. "Baby, please—"

"I’m so fucking angry," he finally spoke, his voice low, thick with frustration. Your hand raked over the tattoos covering his tense arm as you scooted closer, your fingertips tracing the ink in the way you always did to calm him down.

"Turn around and go to sleep," he grumbled, laced with warning.

"Can’t sleep when you’re mad at me. You know that," you whined softly, shuffling closer until you were pressed against his back, your leg draping over his waist, pulling yourself into his space.

He tensed under your touch but didn’t push you away.

You nuzzled into him, your cheek resting on his shoulder, hand tracing gentle patterns along his side. "Talk to me, baby," you whispered, your voice soft, pleading. "Please."

"You knew it would piss me off. I don’t know why you’re surprised—"

"Yeah, but I thought it would be like sexy, possessive, fuck me into the mattress mad…" Your words were muffled as your lips brushed against the warmth of his back, speaking directly into his skin. “I didn’t expect you to ask me to move in with you, baby—”

"So, if I didn’t," he interrupted, tugging the blanket over his shoulder, brushing you off in the process. "You wouldn’t be sorry at all?"

You frowned, pulling the blanket back down and reclaiming your spot, pressing yourself against him again.

“Not really,” you admitted, lips finding the little heart tattoo on his shoulder blade that he’d let you needle into him. You pressed a gentle kiss to it, your voice softening into a playful coo. “Was really mad at you. But then you were all stupidly cute and you bought us a fucking houseee, baby.”

Your fingers curled around his bare side, your kisses turning into quick, playful pecks across the tattoo. "And now I am very..." You pressed another kiss to his skin, “sorry.” Kiss. “My love.” Kiss.

He shifted slightly, his body tense but responsive to your touch. You knew you were getting to him, your lips soft against his inked skin, your tone low and slow. His jaw tightened, but he didn’t stop you, not entirely immune to the way your kisses trailed over his back, or the way your fingers skimmed down his side.

“You think you can just kiss me and make it better?” His voice was still low, but there was something softer creeping into it, the edges of his anger starting to blur under your touch.

You gazed affectionately at your softie's back, a smile playing on your lips as you rubbed your nose over the tattoo. “Maybe,” you hummed. “But I can do a little more than kiss you, if that's not enough…” you whispered, your hand trailing lower, brushing just above the waistband of his briefs.

He let out a small, frustrated sigh, but his body betrayed him—muscles relaxing slightly under your touch.

“Brat,” he muttered under his breath, shifting his position to lie on his back, allowing the blanket to slide down his body and reveal his broad, toned chest.

A soft, approving grunt left your lips as you shamelessly drank in the view, your eyes lingering on your favorite tattoo, scribbled prettily across his chest.

You’ve always been vocal about your love for Jungkook’s tattoos—they’re one of your favorite things about him. Some hold more meaning than others, but they're all breathtakingly beautiful. Honestly, with the number of times your nails have raked down his skin while he takes you like an untamed force, you’d think the ink would’ve rubbed off by now.

But your favorite? The tattoo nestled right below his left, perfectly pink nipple.

Your name.

You’ve never been one for tattoos on yourself, and you know people have all sorts of opinions about getting your partner’s name etched into your skin—a curse, they say. But when Jungkook told you, not asked, told you that he was going to get your name tattooed on him, you'd never dropped to your knees so fast in your life.

You were both lounging lazily on his couch, enjoying one of those rare days off, when he told you the news. The next twelve hours were spent on his lap, with the couch left in a state that required professional cleaning. Jungkook was very upset when you had it cleaned while he was at work, but you made it up to him.

By telling him you wanted one too.

You could already picture your sweet Christian mother rolling in her grave at the thought of you getting a tattoo, let alone your boyfriend’s name—the same boyfriend who’s done things to you no amount of repentance could ever erase. But it’s okay. You planned to get it in a place she wouldn’t see, wherever she’s watching from.

When you told Jungkook about your plan to get matching ink, it led to the second most tender and passionate sex you’d ever had—the first being the day you both said “I love you” for the first time. He's a sap like that.

You were supposed to get "Jungkook" etched onto your inner thigh, but the moment the needle touched your skin, you knew there was no way in hell you were sitting through all eight letters. So, you settled for "JK." Still adorable, and you loved it. So did he.

He’s obsessed with it, sometimes spending hours suckling on the ink. He’ll fall asleep with his head in your lap, the tattooed skin nestled in his mouth like a pacifier. His hand gravitates there when you're out to dinner with friends, resting directly on the spot if you're wearing a skirt, over your jeans if you're not.

Jungkook, of course, got your entire first name and let you pick where it would go. He only had one condition: it had to be on the front of his body—somewhere on his chest or maybe his thigh. When you asked why, he simply said he wasn’t getting any other tattoos there. That space was only for you.

You immediately picked the spot under your favorite nipple of his, and rode him into the sunset right after.

Angel isn’t a word most people—well, any people—would use to describe Jeon Jungkook. But for you, it’s that simple.

He’s your angel. Your short-tempered, jealous, possessive, fiery-fisted angel. For forever and then some.

Despite your boyfriend's irritated expression, you could sense the familiar heat building up in him, causing his eyes to darken and his teeth to tug on his lip rings unconsciously. You felt yourself clench around nothing at the sight.

God, you were down so bad.

A sly grin tugged at your lips as you shifted, sliding your leg over his waist to straddle him, your bare heat pressing flush against the hard bulge straining beneath his briefs. A soft, satisfied hum escaped your throat as you leaned down, letting your lips graze along the sharp line of his jaw.

“Thought you liked your bitches bratty,” you murmured, the words brushing against his lip rings. You kissed your way slowly, deliberately down his neck. “Heard Heejin can get real mouthy.”

“Hm, she’s not usually that bad around me,” he said, his tone casual, almost playful. His tattooed fingers slipped beneath the hem of your shirt, tracing lazily along your sides. “Then again, her mouth is usually otherwise occupied.”

Your lips froze mid-kiss against his neck, the heat in the room shifting as a bubbling wave of jealousy swirled low in your stomach. You knew he was only matching your teasing with his own, but it didn’t stop the image from forming—Heejin, beneath you, as you straddled her in this exact position. Only this time, you weren’t smirking. This time, your hands gripped a pillow, pressing it down firmly until her frantic kicks finally stilled.

You recovered quickly, trailing your kisses lower down his chest. “Yeah?” you bit, voice tight as you continued kissing along his skin. “She suck your cock just the way you like it, baby?”

Jungkook swallowed a shiver as you slid down his body, your mouth hovering over his chest. The tension between you thickened as your teeth grazed his nipple, your tongue darting out just enough to tease.

“Yeah,” he answered, voice strained as he felt your hot breath fan over him. “She’s real sloppy with it. Bit surprising, considering she acts like a fucking church girl in the office—”

You waited until his nipple hardened from the sensation of your breath before biting down, hard, sinking your teeth into the sensitive skin.

His reaction was instant—a sharp hiss slipping through his clenched teeth as his fingers dug into your sides on instinct, gripping you hard enough to leave marks.

His hips jerked up against you, the friction sending a spark through your core as he tried to suppress the groan building in his throat at your obvious stake to claim. His restraint was fading, and you couldn't fucking wait.

You followed up with a soft lick, soothing the now-red nub before lowering your mouth to press a wet, possessive kiss over your tattoo on his chest.

“Sorry,” you mumbled insincerely, pulling back just enough to lock eyes with him.

Jungkook’s gaze was fiery, narrowed as he looked up at you, but you could see the way his breath quickened, his stomach contracting deliciously beneath your bare heat that he was affected.

The grip on your hips tightened, pulling you down harder as he let out a low warning. "Careful, baby."

You smiled small, dragging your nails lightly over his abdomen as you trailed back up his body. “Sorry, baby. Hyungwon used to love it when I did that—"

You didn’t get to finish your sentence before Jungkook was flipping you onto your back, his hands gripping your wrists and pinning them above your head. The look in his eyes was dark, jaw clenched tight as he loomed over you.

If there was one thing that drove Jungkook over the edge, it was when you mentioned your ex.

"Think you're so funny, hm?" His voice dropped low, a dangerous edge creeping in as his grip on your wrists tightened slightly, his gaze darkening as it scanned your face. You could feel the shift—he was serious now.

You pouted up at him, a small smile still playing on your lips. “Just being honest, love. Hyungwon’s left nipple was really sensitive—”

A deep scoff reverberated from Jungkook’s chest, his fingers tightening their hold just enough to send a shiver down your spine. He leaned down, his nose brushing yours as his jaw clenched.

"If you ever comp—" he stopped abruptly, his breath unsteady, voice shaking with barely-contained rage at being compared to the guy he’d nearly put into a coma the last time he laid eyes on him. His jaw clenched, tongue sliding over the inside of his cheek as he glared down at you. "Say his name again, Y/N. I fucking dare you."

You don't know why you did it.

Maybe you lacked survival instincts. Or maybe it was because you were wetter than the fucking Atlantic.

Oh well. Too late now.

"Hyungw—"

You barely got through the first syllable before you were flipped onto your stomach, your cheek pressed into the mattress, the sudden force of the movement knocking the air from your lungs.

A grunt escaped your lips, your head tilting just enough to catch your breath. You could barely contain the smile threatening to spread across your face, your bottom lip caught between your teeth as a thrill of excitement raced through your veins.

Fucking finally.

Jungkook’s weight vanished from the bed, and though every nerve in your body screamed at you to move, you knew better. You had been here before, too many times to count. Sitting up to look at him would earn you more than just punishment—it would leave you edged and begging for release until you were a writhing, pathetic mess. Normally, you’d relish every second of that torture, but right now you were too fucking soaked and too fucking needy to drag this out any longer. You haven't had his cock inside you since before he left your place for work this morning.

And that was like… seventeen fucking hours ago!

Your body thrummed with anticipation, the ache between your thighs pulsing as you stayed perfectly still, hands flat at your sides. You nuzzled deeper into the pillow with a pleased hum, toes wiggling in eager impatience.

Then came the sound you were waiting for.

He was back behind you, the loud click of the belt buckle confirming it. "'M getting too soft on you, baby." His voice was low, dark.

The mattress dipped beneath his weight, and you felt the cold brush of the belt against your bare thighs, the sensation jolting straight to your core.

You bit down harder on your lip, resisting the urge to respond. You knew that would only make it worse. And better.

"Let you ignore my texts," he hummed, the belt dragging slowly up the curve of your legs, making you squirm involuntarily under his touch.

"Let you walk around with no fucking panties," he growled, his hands pulling up the hem of his shirt so your body was fully exposed to him. You immediately gripped the fabric, holding it tight so it stayed in place, eager to feel the weight of his eyes on your bare skin.

"Bought you a fucking house."

He rested the belt on your waist, a promise of what was to come, then his fingers trailed lower, sliding exactly where you wanted them. He gripped your ass, spreading your cheeks just enough to let you feel the warm brush of his fingers against your slick heat.

"This what you wanted, baby?" His voice was a low, mocking drawl, dripping with condescension. "You want me to fuck you like the needy little slut you are?"

A helpless whimper escaped your lips, your thighs parting instinctively at his words, betraying the desperation that throbbed through every inch of your body.

It was fucked, really—how easily he could lead you into this hazy, trance-like state with just a few words. In everyday life, you were lippy, hot-headed, the kind of person who would never let anyone walk all over you without a fight.

But with Jungkook? When he controlled you, when he degraded you, it never left you feeling small, not like other inferior men from your past who only managed to make you feel amused or bored.

With Jungkook, it was different. The way he commanded you, as twisted as it was, it made you feel seen. Wanted. Like you were exactly where you needed to be—in his hands, under his control. All you desired was to surrender completely, to let him take and take until there was nothing left.

Maybe you were biased, considering you loved the man currently smirking wickedly above you with every fiber of your being, but who cared? He owned you, and god, did you love every second of it.

Jungkook hummed, his fingers sliding through your wetness, gathering it slowly. You could hear the smirk in his voice. "So wet just from running that fucking mouth of yours, huh?"

Your breath hitched, every nerve firing as he lifted a hand to press lightly on the buckle resting on your back, the pressure sending a delicious ache radiating through you. You could already imagine the sting it would leave, the thought alone making you drip.

Then, his hand trailed back down your side, leaving the belt untouched and useless on your back. You bit back a disappointed grunt.

"All leaky and achy just from imagining Heejin-ah with my cock in her mouth, baby?" His taunt was biting, and you couldn’t stop the irritated noise that bubbled from your throat. He deliberately added the friendly honorific to get a rise out of you. And it worked.

"Oh?" Jungkook's laughter was filled with malice as he lightly traced his thumb over your folds for the briefest of seconds, not enough to satisfy, not even close.

"You don’t like it when I talk about other girls having me like you have me, huh? Not so fun is it, baby?"

His thumb brushed against your clit, fleeting, fast, gone before you could even register the sensation. Your hips bucked, chasing after the contact you craved, but he was already pulling away.

"Funny that," he mused before his tone turned menacingly low. "Because you sure as hell like talking about that boring fucking cuck a bit too much for my liking."

With the last remnants of your composure, you opened your mouth, ready to fire back one last bratty comment. Maybe the lord was on your side, though, because before you could get a word out, Jungkook cut you off.

"Color."

The retort died on your tongue, and before you even processed it, the response was out.

"Bright fucking green."

Jungkook’s mouth came down hot and harsh, his evil tongue licking a fat stripe right down your soaking slit. He took one of your ass cheeks in each hand, parting them effortlessly. You felt more than heard the deep inhale and exhale over your cunt as he dipped his nose into it like a dog would do to their water bowl on a hot fucking day.

Your breathing turned erratic, and your hands curled into fists to stop yourself from grabbing his head and forcing him deeper into your pussy. The way his tongue moved so deliberately, so lazily, only heightened the tension coiling tight in your core. When he had his fill of dragging his nose up and down your slit, his mouth latched onto your clit, slurping it up like it was his last fucking meal.

Your back arched, a strangled moan ripping from your lips as your fingers clawed at your sheets, trying to clutch onto any last thread of sanity. The grip on your ass tightened, keeping you wide open as he went at you with a brutal pace. Your thighs trembled around his head, your hole fluttering at the pleasure he was delivering to your clit. He was relentless, taking out all his anger and frustration on your poor little pussy.

Your cunt couldn’t keep up with him. It was dripping, soaking your boyfriend's face faster than he could lap it up, coating his chin and dripping down to the sheets beneath you. He groaned into your pussy, a low, dirty sound that vibrated right through your core.

"Ah! Fuck baby," you sobbed, burying your face further into the mattress. "Ngh-fuckkk!"

He didn't stop, tongue noisily sucking and flicking at your clit. Then his hand lifted and came down hard on your right ass cheek, the sharp slap sending a jolt straight through you. It ripped a moan from your throat and you forced yourself not to ask for another one.

"Not my name right now," he pulled back enough to scoff.

Before you could respond, Jungkook’s hands were already on you, shifting your body until you were holding yourself up on your hands and knees, your weight settled into doggy position.

He let out a low hum in approval before wasting no time and burying his mouth back into your heat, tongue sliding up and down viciously through your sopping folds.

“Ah-uhhh! Yes, daddy, oh my godddd,” you cried out, your eyes rolling back, hips bucking as his nose pressed deeper into your pussy.

He moaned into you, the vibration rippling through you as his tongue trailed slowly toward the entrance of your weepy hole.

Your evil fucking boyfriend hovered there for a moment, pretending to tease the tight muscle before his lips gave a big, harsh suck. The sound echoed in your ears as he slurped up as much of your slick as he could, coating his tongue before shoving it right into your clenching hole.

“Ah!” Your scream tore raw from your throat, your nails digging sorely into the mattress. His free hand slid up your body, four fingers pressing into the top of your ass cheeks, gripping you with possessive strength, while his thumb found your swollen clit, rubbing it in big, messy circles.

"Daddy -ah! Oh my fuckkk yes, eat your fucking pussy daddy, goddd."

Jungkook groaned lowly into you, eyes fluttering closed as he relished in the taste of the sweetest pussy he's ever had and will ever have in his life. He was manic as he drank from it, slurped at it, rubbed it all over his dirty fucking face. The wet sounds of his tongue pistoning into your hole, his finger sliding over your soppy clit, your fucked-out whimpers while you screamed for your Daddy.

Music to his fucking ears.

Your legs shook, elbows digging into the mattress as you forced yourself to keep form. If it weren't for your boyfriend's firm hand pressed against your stomach, holding you up, you both know you'd be face down on the mattress again.

Jungkook felt the tension in your belly beneath his palm and he knew you were getting close. He let you writhe for a few more seconds before slowing his movements, slipping his tongue from your hole and pressing a kiss to the pretty, puffed outer lips. He gave a wet suckle to your pebbled clit on his way out and finally pulled back with a loud smacking sound.

As much as the whiny cry you let out when he pulled away made his already aching cock throb harder in his briefs, he needed both hands for what he was about to do to you. And you knew it.

His bunny teeth poked out to graze against your inner left thigh, pussy-coated lips puckering to press a soft kiss over the ink that bore his name. Then, his hand pulled back and landed a quick smack on your right thigh, the light sting spreading instantly across your skin.

You understood immediately, a strained groan slipping from your lips as you rolled onto your back, head sinking into the pillow.

The belt buckle had been digging into your skin, so you quickly pulled it from beneath you, tossing it beside you on the bed. Your feet pressed into the mattress, knees bending as your legs spread open once more, leaving your glistening pussy on full display—just the way he taught you.

"Mm," Jungkook hummed approvingly, his eyes raking over your body with that look of dark satisfaction. His hand drifted to his cock, now uncomfortably hard, and gave it a rough palm through the fabric.

When his gaze paused at your chest, where his shirt had slipped back down to cover your breasts, you knew what to do. 

But you didn't want to take it off… it was your favorite.

Instead, you tugged the fabric higher, pulling it up over your tits, shuddering as the material grazed over your sensitive nipples. Your tongue darted out to wet your lips before you bit down lightly on the hem, holding it in place between your teeth.

Jungkook let out a low, dirty groan, his fingers trailing up your thighs, giving the soft flesh a possessive squeeze. "Good girl, baby."

"Thank you, daddy," you keened at the praise, though your response came out muffled with the shirt wedged between your teeth.

You gave a little impatient wiggle of your hips, feeling the mixture of slick and saliva begin to drip out of your pussy the longer it was left unattended.

Jungkook's eyes hooded at the sight, watching as a glob of his spit dripped down from your pussy and disappeared right between your crack. He swallowed hard, hands itching to spread the fat cheeks and watch the liquid pool around your tight, puckered hole. He'd grab your phone and make you bring up Park Hyungwon's contact, force you to Facetime the pathetic fuck, and make him watch as he let more of his spit trail from his mouth right over your greedy ass. Then he'd use his big tongue to shove it deeper and deeper into your winking little hole .

Of course, the Hyungwon part was purely theoretical because you no longer had his number or any contact with that cunt anymore. Jungkook saw to that three days into your relationship. But the other parts—

"Daddy?"

His gaze slowly drifted up to your pretty face when your muffled voice broke him from his thoughts. "Yes, my baby?"

"Wha's da bel' for?" you mumbled, your speech slurred by the fabric of his shirt still caught between your teeth.

Jungkook’s tongue swiped over his bottom lip, eyes darkening at the sight of you struggling to speak, and he wasn’t surprised when his cock twitched in response, pressing harder against his stomach.

He glanced at the belt lying next to you. “Was gonna punish you, angel,” he admitted softly.

His hand trailed down, freeing his throbbing shaft from its restraints and kicking the briefs aside. The (non-sexual related) clean freak in him made a mental note to tidy up later.

Climbing onto the bed, he settled between your legs, his weight pressing down on you as his chest melded into your soft, warm skin. A quiet, content sigh slipped from his lips as he let himself sink into you.

“But 'm still very sorry about earlier,” he murmured, his words a gentle apology as his hand brushed along your side, his nose nuzzling against your boob. “And I wanna be a little gentler with you tonight. Is that okay?”

A warmth swirled in your stomach, sending soft flutters through your body. Your hand lifted to thread through his silky, messy hair, your nails grazing his scalp just the way he loved.

“Of cour-kkhm,” His eyes flicked up to meet yours from where his head rested on your chest, and with a bunny smile, his fingers carefully tugged his shirt from your mouth, freeing your lips so you could speak more clearly.

Leaning down, you pressed a gentle kiss to his tattooed fingers, feeling his warmth seep into your skin. “You can have me any way you want, baby,” you whispered softly, your words full of affection. “You know that.”

“Never getting rid of me, you know that, right?” he murmured against the soft skin of your sideboob, his lips puckering to suck a delicate mark into the flesh.

“Would never try,” you sighed, your hand trailing down to rest on his warm, solid back as he licked tenderly over the mark he’d left. “Would fucking castrate you if you even tried to leave me.”

A low, deep laugh rumbled through his chest, vibrating against your body as he shifted up, his naked form pressing closer until his mouth found its place in the crook of your neck. He mumbled softly, a smirk tugging at his lips, “Would let you.”

You giggled, your head tilting to meet your other half. “Slut,” you mumbled sweetly before connecting your mouth with his. Your lips moved together in perfect sync, tongues lazily lapping against each other, unrushed and full of love.

The taste of you in his mouth had you clenching around nothing as the memory of his filthy tongue buried between your thighs minutes ago resurfaced. Your hips rocked up lightly, exhaling through your nose when the tip of his cock just barely brushed against your sticky clit, the sound loud in contrast to the soft click of your tongues.

Jungkook was no less affected, groaning into your mouth as his fingers tightened around the sides of your waist. His hips shifted down so the full length of his shaft could slip between your slick folds, and he reveled in the loud, squishy noise of your heat enveloping him as he slid back and forth.

“Mmmmhh,” you broke away from his mouth with a sigh of relief, your head lolling back as your body ignited at the feeling of his cock finally returning home. He didn’t make a move to push inside just yet, continuing his deep thrusts, coating his length and balls in your slick as he rutted back and forth. "Shit, baby."

Jungkook’s groan was strained as his hand trailed from your side, slipping between the two of you without moving his head. He reluctantly pulled his cock from your slick folds before two of his fingers were there to replace it, sinking into your heat without hesitation.

"F-fuck," you choked, your chest heaving at the sudden stretch, your body reacting instantly to the familiar intrusion. It was the first time something stiff had been inside you all night, and the relief was overwhelming.

Jungkook groaned low in your ear, letting you adjust for a second before his hunger took over. He pushed his fingers in deeper into your hole, sinking them in fully until his palm slapped loudly against your clit. Then he pulled them out and drove them back in, harder.

"Oh god, b-baby, shitttt." Your nails dug into the skin of his shoulders, jaw slacking when his long fingers easily reached that spongey part deep inside of you.

He nuzzled into your neck, his lips brushing the hot skin there as his fingers continued their relentless pace, a soft groan escaping his throat. The way your walls squeezed tightly around his fingers like you didn't want him to pull out, the loud sqsch-sqsch-sqsch of your pussy echoing in his ears as he thrusted his hand in and out of your dirty little hole.

God, he was going to cum untouched like a fucking teenager.

“Need to put it in, please, baby,” he begged softly, voice strained with need, his breath hot against your neck. “Need you."

Your hand cupped his face, fingers brushing lightly over his jawline as your eyes fluttered shut. “Take it,” you mewled, breath catching as his fingers slowed. His hips shifted back over you, his heavy balls pressed snugly against your clit. “Take it all, baby. It’s yours.”

Jungkook didn’t need to be told twice. He withdrew his fingers, his wet hand wrapping around his throbbing cock. He exhaled into your neck before slipping back into your folds and you choked out a loud sigh of relief as he finally began to fill you up.

“Shittttt,” he slurred against your neck, his forehead pressing into your jaw as he sank all the way in until his hips were flush with yours. “God, baby... so fucking good.”

His body stayed pressed against yours, his chest melting into your own, every inch of his skin needing to feel yours. His lips ghosted over your collarbone, up your neck, and to your jawline, pressing gentle kisses as he moved inside you with deep, unhurried thrusts.

“Fuck, baby,” you whimpered, your hands sliding up his back, pulling him impossibly closer. You buried your face into his neck, the scent of Bvlgari and tobacco making your head spin. It was so good. So fucking him.

The warmth of his heavy body on top of you made you feel so safe, so completely his. It fueled the burning ache in your stomach, the pressure in your core building with each deep stroke.

Your brows furrowed, overwhelmed, and your eyes pooled with tears, both from pleasure and emotion. "God, I love you so much, Jungkook. You make me feel so safe a-and loved," you choked out, voice trembling.

Jungkook’s hips stilled slightly, but you felt the way his cock twitched inside you at your words. He pulled his head back, looking down at your tear-streaked face, eyes softening.

"My baby," he mumbled softly, his clean(er) hand lifting to brush away your tears before leaning down to press soft kisses over your flushed skin.

"As long as I’m alive, nothing and nobody will ever hurt a hair on your pretty little head, Y/N." He kissed over the fresh tears, licking the salty liquid off his lips before placing a soft kiss onto your pouty lips. "Besides me, of course, when you ask me to."

A watery chuckle escaped your lips as he added, "I love you more than I love myself, baby. You're my world. I would kill for you," another kiss to the corner of your mouth before he cheekily added, "almost have."

You giggled, shaking your head and leaning up to press a grateful kiss against his lips. You followed it with another, longer one, brushing softly over the cool metal of his lip rings. "Can't wait to live with you, baby."

"Mmm," he groaned in satisfaction, his hips instinctively picking up their slow, deep rhythm at your words. "Yeah? Can’t wait to be trapped in my house, nowhere to run when you’re being a little brat?"

You laughed, breathy from the way he was rolling his hips into you. "Like I get far as it is? You just follow me like a dirty stalker."

His smile turned dark and playful as his thrusts became a little sharper. "Uh-huh, and you think that would stop when we sign some stupid joint tenancy papers?"

You couldn't help the way you clenched around him at that, big eyes blinking up at him in shock. "You're letting me sign the papers with you?"

Jungkook's brows furrowed as if confused. "Baby, it's our house; why wouldn’t you?"

A grunt rumbled from your throat as you pulled him down, teeth sinking into his bottom lip. Jungkook groaned into your mouth, his hands sliding down to grip your hips tightly, his thrusts growing rougher in response to the bite.

The sounds that echoed around your bedroom were wet, needy, the slick squelching with every push and pull as he kept his pace, deep and steady. Your breaths mingled, his lips hovering over yours as he rocked into you.

Jungkook groaned lowly, his hips pressing harder, more urgent. “You feel so fucking good, baby,” he rasped, his lips pressing soft kisses along your jaw, up to your ear. “Give it to me every day, and it's still so wet and tight for me, fucking hellll.”

You keened at his praise, biting your lip harshly as his pace quickened. Your legs wrapped tighter around his waist, thighs squeezing as you pulled him deeper inside you until you were so close you were getting shoved into the headboard with each thrust.

“Ah, bab-uh! Right theree,” you whined, back arching as he hit that spot with precision, his thick head shoving against your g-spot like it was second nature. He knew your body inside out, and still, every time felt like a new fucking discovery.

Jungkook grunted lowly, his lips hovering by your ear as he thrust deeper, harder. “Right there, baby? That’s my spot, isn’t it? Feels so good when I fuck into it like that, huh?”

Your nails dug into his back as you whimpered, completely at his mercy. The slamming of the headboard against the wall was so loud but you couldn't care less. “Yes, yes, fuck, baby, that's yooourr fucking spot, uuh! Fucking take it, baby, godd!"

Jungkook groaned, his hips snapping faster, rougher, each thrust more desperate as he pounded into you. “I will,” he promised, possessiveness dripping from every word. “And you’re gonna give it to me, right, baby? Gonna beg me for it?”

“Please, baby, take it,” you cried out, your legs tightening around his waist. “Take it all, it’s yours. Just fucking take it.”

His hand gripped your hip hard, anchoring you in place as he slammed into you over and over again. He shifted you down a little so your head wasn't slamming into the headboard and his free hand slid down to rub over your slippery clit.

"Whose is it, huh? Who does this dirty fucking pussy belong to? Tell me.”

“You,” you sobbed, your body trembling beneath him, the pressure building in your core so quickly you could barely think. “It’s yours, baby. All y-yours.”

“Say my fucking name when you come,” he demanded, “and you’re gonna take everything I give you, right, baby? Greedy little pussy’s gonna suck up every drop of my fucking load. And you’re gonna hold it in there until I’m ready to turn you into a mama.”

You came so fucking hard.

It hit you all at once—your release crashing through you, your body shaking violently as a broken scream ripped from your throat, nails digging so deep into his skin you knew you’d leave marks.

“Jung—” your breath hitched in a sob “Jungkooookkkk!”

Your body arched into him, every wave of pleasure crashing through you, leaving you limp and trembling beneath him as he kept pounding into you, chasing his own release. The sound of his balls slapping against your ass echoed in your ears, barely drowning out the breathless thank yous tumbling from your lips.

“Good fucking girl,” he praised, his voice strained as his hips stuttered, his cock pulsing as he used you as a fleshlight.

“Gonna be the best daddy,” you cried, legs shaking as you let him abuse your whimpering cunt. “Can’t wait to have your fucking babies. Give you, uh, g-give you as many as you want daddy.”

“Fuck, Y/N,” he groaned, head thrown back in bliss. “Yeah? Gonna keep popping out babies for daddy until he says you’re done? Gonna let me fuck you so full until it sticks... 'til your belly’s so big you can barely fucking walk, baby?”

You could hear the slick, wet sloshing noise every time he pulled out and slammed back into your pussy, and you swore it was the prettiest sound you’d ever heard.

“Yesss, daddyyy,” you cried out, voice high and desperate. “Please make me a mommy. P-please.”

“Nghhh, fuck!”

With one final deep thrust, he spilled into you, hot and thick, his body trembling as he filled you completely. Your name fell from his lips again as your greedy walls fluttered and clenched around him, eager to milk every last drop of cum from his cock.

But he didn’t stop.

Jungkook’s hips kept rolling into yours, adjusting for a moment at the sensitivity before he sped up, dragging his softening cock against that perfect spot inside you. His thumb was cruel, chasing your swollen clit even as it tried to hide from him.

It was too much, too intense, but you couldn’t stop the way your body reacted—back arching, nails back digging back into his big shoulders, a broken wail spilling from your lips.

“Fuck, baby,” you whimpered, head falling back as the overstimulation consumed you. “I c-can'tttt—”

“Another one," Jungkook growled, his lips brushing over your jaw, kissing you through every ragged breath. “C'mon, my love, you can do it. One more. One more, then you're done, baby.”

And just like that, it hit you—your second orgasm crashing through your body, leaving your toes curling and vision blurring. You cried out his name, your entire body shaking beneath him as he kept grinding, coaxing you through every wave of pleasure until you were trembling, thighs quivering around his waist.

“God, fuck!” you sobbed, clinging to him as the last of your release pulsed through you, squeezing his soft cock tight as he groaned into your neck. You were limp, shaking, but he stayed right there.

You both knew the chance of actually getting pregnant was very slim, thanks to the IUD in your arm, and you weren’t ready for that. You think.

But the breeding talk always turned you both the fuck on, and that 0.9% chance set something dangerous ablaze inside you. The risk, however small, just made it so much hotter.

You let out a content sigh as you crashed back to earth, shaky arms looping around his neck, pulling him down, craving the weight of his body on yours. Jungkook collapsed on top of you, his breath hot against your neck as he pressed soft kisses to your skin, still buried inside you

“Did so good, my baby. Always so good for me,” he cooed, his voice low and soft, as his nose nuzzled gently against your skin, brushing over your collarbone.

A breathy giggle escaped your lips as your fingers threaded through his slightly damp hair. “Thought you said you wanted to be gentle tonight.”

Jungkook hummed lazily against your neck, his lips trailing over your skin with a soft chuckle. “That was gentle,” he murmured, sinking deeper into your warm skin.

You snorted softly, shaking your head. “You’re not wrong,” you replied, your chest still heaving slightly as your hand slid soothingly up and down his back. You felt him smile against your neck, his arms tightening around you, his cock still nestled deep, clearly in no rush to pull out anytime soon.

For a moment, it was peaceful—the sound of your mingled breaths the only noise in the room. Then, Jungkook lifted his head slightly, glancing at the soft glow of your Mac screen. His eyes caught the time, and he let out an annoyed groan, burying his face deeper into your skin.

“Hm? What’s wrong?” you asked, your fingers still threading through his hair as you glanced toward the screen yourself. Your heart dropped when you saw the time.

“You’ve got to be up in, like, three hours,” you mumbled, running your hand down his back, your feet sliding up and down the back of his thighs in an attempt to soothe him.

Jungkook’s body tensed slightly at the reminder, his lips still pressed to your neck. You could feel the irritation in his silence, and your heart sank at the thought of him leaving before you even woke up.

“I’ll make your lunch before I come into work at eight, baby,” you offered softly, your voice gentle as you tried to ease his frustration. “I can bring it up to y—”

“I’m not going,” he interrupted, his voice firm but soft against your skin.

Your heart stilled at his words, and you pulled back slightly, trying to see his face. “What do you mean, you’re not going?”

“I’m not going in tomorrow,” he repeated, lifting his head to meet your gaze. “And you’re not either. We’re staying right here until we both get some real sleep.”

You blinked in surprise. “But—”

“And then,” he cut you off again, his lips brushing yours as he spoke, “we’re gonna wake up, pack your shit, and move into our house.”

Your heart fluttered in your chest. “Yeah?” you whispered, your voice barely audible as you looked into his eyes, searching for any hint of hesitation.

Jungkook nodded, his lips curving into a soft smile as he leaned down to kiss you pouty lips, his hands brushing back your hair. “Told you, you can’t run from me anymore, baby.”

You grinned against his lips, wrapping your arms around his neck as you kissed him deeply, your heart swelling with love.

“I love you so much, my dirty stalker,” you cooed against his mouth, your fingers drifting to trace over your name inked across his chest.

Jungkook’s eyes crinkled as his lips pressed softly against yours again, his body relaxing as he breathed you in. “I love you more, my crazy girl."

END.

WOW what a ride!! let me know what you think?? love you 🖤

[wife-of-all-dilfs]

burning pt. 2 | b. blake

part one | masterlist

summary: season three — a daunting decision is to be made. multiple cups of grounder celebration juice, an arrogant bellamy blake, and a desire to prove oneself cause an inevitable outcome.

pairing: bellamy blake x reader

warnings (including all parts): alcohol consumption/intoxication, sensual dancing, jealousy, sexual desecration??, mild possessiveness, arguments, bellamy speaking in trigedaslang (giggling and kicking my feet), dialogue-heavy, manhandling, mild angst, smut, unprotected p in v (do not), reader is short because i’m short, deal with it <3

notes: THIS IS PART TWO OF FROM THE FLAMES!!

word count: 2.6k

No.

Way.

There was absolutely no way I was going to join a horde of drunken warriors dancing around a ten-foot-tall bonfire.

At least, that was what I had told Raven ten minutes ago.

Given the current position in which I was standing (which was just outside the crowd of dancers by a barrel containing a brew that I told myself was just really strong moonshine) and the alcohol oozing through my veins like sweet, molten honey, I think it’s safe to say that I had contradicted myself.

How many drinks had I had now? Two, three? Somewhere around there.

I wasn’t drunk, I swear. Although, I was certainly working my way towards being so. Raven had gently coerced—threatened—me into joining the raunchy dance circle. I had at first refused, but when she began to suggest telling Bellamy my ‘little secret’ if I didn’t do it myself, I reluctantly, very reluctantly, agreed.

So, that was that. I was going to dance. With Grounders. Around a bonfire. In front of Bellamy.

Hence, the drinks.

The only times I had ever danced were during parties back on the Ark, but those were so tame and regulated. This was vastly different. There were no rules, no sophistication, and certainly no guards keeping tabs on how close a girl danced with a boy. The latter was clear as day, taking the form of a couple dancing together a few feet in front of me.

A woman with dark, slicked-back braids and deep bronze skin pushed herself against her partner, a tall man with lengthy facial hair and spike-cuffed fists that must’ve been the size of my head. One of his hands was on her back, the other on her hip, ruching up her long skirt so that it exposed her thighs as she glided her chest up his torso. They grinded and swayed and flowed together in time with the pulsating beat.

Dread grappled me. I had to do that? How the hell do you dance like that in jeans and a tank top?

Through the ever-migrating crowd, I spotted Raven standing with Monty and Harper on the opposite side of the square. Of course, she had already been watching me the whole time. The fear on my face was unmistakable, yet she only sent an impatient nod of her head that said, “Get on with it already.”

If anything, you could always rely on Raven for her persistence.

“Christ, help me.” I plunged my cup into the barrel, fervently bringing its contents back to my lips and down my throat.

“Didn’t take you for a religious one,” came a deep voice from behind me.

I swivelled around, my cup still craned to my lips, and found the incentive for my drinking habits standing before me.

Bellamy.

Gracelessly, I choked as a much too-large mouthful of liquid streamed down my throat. My innards recoiled in on themselves. “Bellamy,” I said, attempting to compose myself. “Hi.” Unfortunately, the abhorrent aftertaste still lurked on my tongue, causing my expression to sour into one of disgust. “God—makes moonshine seem like apple juice.”

Apparently, he found this amusing. A hum of a chuckle bobbed in his throat. “Looks like you’re enjoying the party then.”

A few variations of how I wanted to reply: “I wasn’t until you started talking to me,” “Not really, but if you take me into a back alley right now, I might,” and, just a plain and simple, “I need you.”

What I really said: “Oh, yeah, I’m having a great time. You meet this guy?” I patted the barrel behind me. “Really supportive. We’re becoming good friends.”

He nodded, eyeing me with a quizzical smirk. “I can see that. Maybe you should branch out a bit. Have you met the one called Water yet?”

“You’re funny.”

“Alcohol tends to have that effect on me,” he said, and I laughed. His freckled cheeks rounded into apples and his teeth made a rare appearance; he looked away as if to hide his smile, as if Bellamy Blake couldn’t possibly be anything but serious and brooding. He’s kept my secret; I’ll keep his.

We both observed the crowd and the fire as a new song began to play, standing comfortably, wordlessly, side by side. Maybe ‘wordlessly’ was a bit of a stretch—there was a magnitude of words filling my mind, especially when he began unzipping his jacket and shrugging it off to expose his contoured arms to the fire’s fervour.

His arms…

“How many drinks have you had?”

I blinked. “What?”

He stared at me with a mischievous glint in his eye, draping his jacket on an unlit makeshift barbeque. “I said, what do you think of all this?”

The veil of lust-ridden (let’s call it what it was) fog lifted from my mind, and my brows creased deeply as I attempted to piece together what he was talking about. It took me a few belated seconds before I realized he had been referring to the Grounders and Sky People uniting as one people. I could hardly contain an idiotic smile from breaching my lips—my opinion was important to him.

“It’s—well,” I stammered, “it’s different.” It’s different? If only he knew how badly I wanted to club myself with a brick at that moment. Despite my obvious mental stagnation, he expressed nothing but patience, waiting with a visible longing for my input. So, I tried again, slowly working around the alcohol and shrewd blockages in my brain. “Honestly? It scares me. Their first impression of us was that we were cold-blooded killers and ours of them was the exact same. Ever since we hit the ground, we’ve been at each other’s throats; we’ve all committed so many acts of war.

“I’m scared of how fragile this peace is, how one tiny mistake could lead to the annihilation of our kind or theirs, or even both.” Bellamy watched me with silent contemplation. I continued, “And I’m scared if this peace does break, you’ll be on the front-lines because I know you’ll refuse to be anywhere else. And I know you and I tend to… disagree more often than not, but if you were to die—” I looked down, bashfully scrutinising the toes of my boots “—I think I’d be lost.”

He didn’t speak. He didn’t move. I immediately wished to snatch the words my loosened tongue had released and shove them back down my throat. His silence was writhing excruciatingly through the air, surrounding us like a constricting serpent.

Say something, Bellamy. Say anything.

“I think I’d feel the same,” he finally spoke, and the relief I felt was instant. I looked up at him. His pupils were bowls of sweet melted chocolate as he cocked his head to the side. “What would I do without my favourite sparring partner?”

My heart soared.

My favourite sparring partner.

Favourite.

So much for not smiling like an absolute idiot. I could only pray the fire’s orange light masked the jeopardising tinge of my cheeks, though there was nothing I could do about my blatant staring. Maybe it would have been embarrassing if I were the only one, but Bellamy had the same problem.

Someone seemed to hit ‘pause’on time.

The blood in my veins moved like a tranquil river; my heart expanded and subdued with each slow beat. The voices and bodies around us blurred into one big mass of nothing. All that seemed to be moving was the music drifting down towards us from the tower and Bellamy’s face, which was leaning closer in microscopic intervals, almost unnoticeably. But I noticed.

And then the bonfire roared with a loud crack.

Voices mingled. Bodies shuffled. Time restarted.

Bellamy cleared his throat and looked away, just as I began inspecting the cup in my hand. What was in that stuff? It was supposed to give me the confidence to dance in front of him; he ruined—a term I’ll use loosely—my plans by greeting me directly, so now I was just tipsy for no good reason.

At least now I didn’t have to join a wanton circle of dancing grounders.

Wait.

Was Bellamy going to kiss me?

“Didn’t think I’d see a grounder mating ritual tonight,” muttered Bellamy as he watched the scene with crossed, disapproving arms. The light spirit he had been in before had obviously been overthrown by his usual brooding nature. Funny that—that his mood only soured after hemade it seem like he was going to…

You know.

I turned towards the crowd, away from him (and his damning muscular arms that bulged impossibly over his chest). “You don’t approve?” I asked flatly. His sudden detachment had pissed me right off. “Everyone,” I addressed the partygoers in a hushed tone only Bellamy could hear, “stop dancing right now. Bellamy Blake doesn’t approve of fun.”

“I didn’t say that,” he countered.

“Then go dance.”

“I don’t dance.”

For the second time that night, I contradicted myself. “Well, I do.”

Now that regained his attention. I could see him staring at me in my peripheral vision.

“Right,” he scoffed. “You’re gonna dance.”

Ouch.

His words struck a chord deep inside me, causing my expression to wilt into something defensive. My arms folded promptly over my chest and I turned to stare him down. “Is it so unimaginable?”

“I just can’t picture you dancing,” he spoke with an arrogant grin, as if his viewpoint originated from the truth and mattered above all else.

It was moments like this one that pushed me to judge whether I should indulge in my attraction to Bellamy. Maybe it was the booze talking, but I really just wanted to slap him across the face. If not literally, then maybe figuratively, by proving him wrong.

I’d had this problem ever since I met him: he would tell me to do one thing, and I’d do the complete opposite; it felt like an unspoken rule at this point. Which led me to my next decision.

My arms dropped to my sides. “Good thing you won’t have to in a minute,” I snapped.

I began making for the bonfire and dancers, each of my curt steps fuelled by spite and a chemically altered brain. I just can’t picture you dancing. Yeah, right. I’d give him something to picture, the smug asshole.

“Hey.” A large hand caught my wrist, pulling me back half a step so I that had to stop.

I shot a fiery warning over my shoulder. Bellamy’s eyes reflected regret and a touch of submission; he knew it had been the wrong move and immediately let go of my arm, withdrawing half a step himself in placation.

“Look, I’m sorry,” he spoke cautiously like I was a spooked animal about to attack. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“Well, you did upset me.”

“Princess, I—"

I whirled around on my toes and we came face-to-face (well, face-to-collarbone). The swiftness of my actions must’ve caught him off-guard because he cut himself short mid-sentence and the bulge of his Adam’s apple bobbed nervously in his throat.

The scorching intensity of my gaze was pointed directly up at him now, just daring him to speak another word. He didn’t. His mouth had set into a hard, impenetrable line that represented his oath of silence. It was a smart choice, but, god, he had gotten me so riled up that whether he was smart no longer mattered.

I just couldn’t help myself.

The gap between us shortened as I took a smooth step forward, keeping us connected by the eyes. A challenge in the form of a scornful smile broke across my lips. “No leaning in this time, huh?” I spoke.

Bellamy’s eyes twitched into squints, his jaw clenching in unison. It was strange how he took offence to being called out on something he had done—a common trait in those affected by frequently un-called-out arrogance, no doubt. I’d have to start helping him out with that.

A bomb was ticking beneath his skin and I knew firsthand how short the fuse was. Subconsciously, I think I wanted to blow it. Subconsciously, I think I enjoyed it: the arguing, the tension, the heat. I enjoyed how we knew exactly what set each other off and how intimate knowing such information about one another was. I enjoyed getting in his face and him getting in mine.

I enjoyed the moments when it would become blatantly obvious that the tension between us never originated from a place of hate or malice, but from somewhere deeper, fleshier.

Or was I so impaired that it was really just me?

Thoughts calculated behind his hooded gaze—of hate, of malice, of flesh, I wasn’t sure. And just when I thought he wasn’t going to reply at all, his neck hollowed with a deep inhale, and he leaned down to my height. My heart dropped to an unspeakable place. His breath was hot on the tip of my ear, “Did you want me to lean in?”

I stared at his shoulder, trying to conceal the shiver trickling down my neck and over my breasts and much, much further below. He lingered in place for a half-second longer before returning to full height. Can you guess the shape his lips made as he scanned my perplexed expression? It’s not difficult.

I was going to slap him. Not out of dislike: but because how dare he make me want him so badly? And in front of so many people? And without even knowing that I actually did want him and it wasn’t just the alcohol that was making us both sexually frustrated?

I swear to god I was going to slap him. My hand flexed, but before I could act, the universe made evident that it was on Bellamy’s side.

The sudden bellow of horns signalled a change of song. Our attention was dragged away from one another, turning to the celebratory howls and shouts echoing between those surrounding the bonfire. The flames had exploded to new heights as someone fed more wood to the base. It burned so brightly, so dangerously that if I didn’t know any better, I’d have mistaken it for a god.

The horns vibrated in the air, repeating over and over as more instruments were introduced to create something dark and haunting. Slowly, I began to smile. I knew what I was going to do now, and it certainly wasn’t slapping the smirk off of Bellamy Blake’s face.

“Sorry, Blake,” I voiced over the music. We were looking at each other now; somehow in those ten seconds we were distracted I must’ve sucked him dry of pride and consumed it myself, because I now wore the smirk, and he wore the confusion. One last time, I downed a gulp of my drink and said, “Places to be.”

And then I was gone, heading straight for the crowd of orange-skinned dancers, slick, sweating bodies, and pulsating horns. I’d hoped that last drink would kick in fast, especially if Bellamy’s eyes were to be as vigilant as ever.

part three {to be written}

[ruins-of-babylon]

𝐄𝐧𝐞𝐦𝐲 - 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟐

♡︎♡︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♡︎

Mattheo Riddle x reader smut

𝒮𝓊𝓂𝓂𝒶𝓇𝓎：After Mattheo successfully woos his enemy’s girlfriend, he has to deal with the aftermath of Theo’s anger

Part 1 here

𝒲𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈：toxic!theo, Theo calls reader bitch and whore, Theo almost hits reader, oral (m receiving), edging, unprotected p in v (use protection!), kinda public sex, creampie, kinda breeding kink, let me know if I missed anything!

𝒩ℴ𝓉ℯ：I’m sorry this took kinda long to write, I’ve been pretty busy lately

🔞🔞MDNI!!!!🔞🔞

On Sunday morning, you woke up surrounded by someone’s arms, covering as much of you as they could. It took you a moment to remember what happened last night, and who was currently holding you. You smiled as you recalled the events of the previous night, how you promised Mattheo you would be his, how he had claimed you as his own. As you took in more reality, your smile faded. You realized you were sleeping in Theo’s bed, and he still thought you were together. He would probably be back soon. Shit! You thought as you sprung up from your comfortable position and turned to shake Mattheo awake.

“Matt, wake up! Theo could get here any minute!” You shouted at him. He only slightly stirred, before groggily opening his eyes half way and grabbing you to lay down with him again.

“Shhh, just go to sleep, princess.” He whispered in his sleepy voice, his grip on you tight and unrelenting as you tried to squirm away. You sighed at his sleep-intoxicated state, turning in his arms to face him. You kissed him deeply, pulling his hair sharply but gently, trying to wake him up further. He groaned into your mouth as you kissed him, kissing back sleepily. He chuckled softly at your actions. “You need to get up.” You whispered to him as you pulled away from him.

“Let’s just sleep for a little longer. Okay?” He said, nestling his head into the crook of your neck. You groaned.

“No, Mattheo. Theos going to see you in his bed and kill you if you don’t get up. Okay?” You replied. His body tensed as he took in what you said. He finally sat up and turned to you.

“You said you were mine now.” Was all he could manage, a sad tone in his voice. You felt bad for him, seeing him so vulnerable.

“I am, baby. I just need to break up with Theo so we can be together.” You replied, rubbing comforting circles on his back. He turned to you and smiled, understanding your thinking.

“Okay, baby. I’ll go.” He said, getting up and getting dressed. You watched him, nearly drooling. He was a sight for sore eyes, you could say. He had just finished putting his clothes on before he kissed you goodbye, heading for the door. Halfway there, he heard the door knob shaking. He looked around and immediately ran for the open closet. Your heart pounded fast in your chest as Theo revealed himself, walking towards you on his bed. You were only wearing your underwear, hiding under his covers. He peered at you as you smiled at him. He returned the smile, and crawled into bed with you, pulling the covers away from your body.

“Damn, I forget how gorgeous you are.” He said, smirking, kissing your lips. You felt awkward, knowing Theo wasn’t going to be happy when you broke up with him. But you had Mattheo, and he’d protect you. You pulled away from the one-sided kiss slowly.

“Theo, can we talk?” You whispered. He pulled away from you as well, a concerned look on his face.

“About what?” He questioned, looking nervous. You gulped down your fear before speaking up.

“I want to break up.” You quickly said, waiting for his reaction. You studied his face, watching as he seemed to go through all the stages of grief.

“What?! Why?” He shouted. You shakily looked up at him, trying to search for the words.

“I-I just…” you stumbled over your words, trying to piece together an excuse. It was hard when you could feel his gaze down on you, seemingly trying to intimidate you. “You don’t treat me well. You’re controlling and I don’t feel like this relationship is healthy or loving.” You finally told him, finding sudden confidence. You stood up, getting your clothes from the side of his bed, putting them on while keeping your eyes on him.

Mattheo watched the situation unfold, peering through a gap in the closet door. He saw you and Theo exchange words and almost laughed when he saw Theos expression. That quickly turned to something else - anger, sadness, fear, he didn’t know - when Theo lunged at you, grabbing your wrist tightly and pulling you to him.

“You can’t fucking leave me. Don’t you know what I’ve done for you? All this time, money, effort I spent for you. For us. I’m all you have.” He spit out, a sadistic smirk on his face as he saw you tear up.

“You can’t stop me. I’m breaking up with you whether you like it or not.” You whispered. You wanted your life back, your freedom back, and he wouldn’t get in the way of that. Your teary eyes glared at him.

“You ugly fucking bitch. No ones going to want you. I’m the best you’re ever going to get, you fucking whore.” He shouted. Mattheo cringed. He really hoped this wouldn’t wear down on you. He hated Theo more than ever. How could he treat his girlfriend like this? Especially since his girlfriend was you. Emphasis on ‘was.’

You pulled yourself away from Theo, taking a deep breath. His words stung, you had to admit. But you had to carry on, you knew he wasn’t right for you. You maintained your silence and simply walked towards the door, brushing your shoulder against him as you did. This action seemed to anger him, and as he turned and raised his hand, Mattheo took action, jumping out of the closet and stopping his hand. He delivered a strong punch to Theo’s gut before grabbing your hand and rushing both of you out of the room. As you ran, you laughed. It was over, you were free from your toxic ex. A feeling of glory filled your chest. Your lungs burned, sputtering for breath. The cold tile of the dungeon creating a heavy slapping sound as your shoes met the floor. Mattheo was intoxicating, and as he looked at you with a bright smile, you knew you would do anything he did, if he only asked. As you ran farther, still holding hands, you suddenly stopped in some random hallway, not sure of where you were anymore.

“Where are we?” You asked him. He looked around, trying to find something that could help identify your location. When he saw a small broom closet a few feet in front of you, his search for a way back to a familiar place was interrupted. He pulled your hand farther, opening the door and pulling you in. Confused, you stared at him as he casted a silencing spell on the room. When he turned to you, you knew what he had in mind. When he kissed you, you let out a moan into his mouth, kissing him back with the same energy. The kiss was filled with passion and need, tongues moving together in a messy haze. He gripped the back of your head, holding it in place as he nearly stuck his tongue down your throat. He pushed you down to your knees, and you felt the cold pavement under you, your knees crying in pain. He stroked your hair and face with one hand while he unzipped his pants with the other. When he had finally released himself from his pants, you almost immediately brought your tongue to the underside of his dick, licking a stripe over a prominent vein. He groaned, which only gave you motivation to keep going. You swirled your tongue around his head, licking up all the precum leaking from him. It tasted slightly bitter and salty. As you slowly moved your lips down his cock, he used his hand to guide your head, his fingers gripping your hair with a firm grasp. He suddenly shoved your head all the way down, his head bumping the back of your throat. You gagged, tears forming in your eyes.

“Good girl.” Was all he said. It turned you on even more, making the discomfort worth it. You brought your hands up to his balls, lightly massaging them to bring him even more pleasure. He threw his head back so hard you could hear a loud thump against the wall. He moaned and groaned repeatedly, and you smiled at his reaction. Eventually he started to twitch in your mouth.

“I’m gonnna cum, baby. Keep going.” He said. You smiled knowingly before pulling him out of your mouth, leaving him on the edge. He yelled loudly at the loss of stimulation, his head moving to look down on you. He grabbed your head, trying to bring you back to him, but you batted his hand away, standing up and kissing him.

“What is it? Why’d you stop?” He all but screamed at you, clearly frustrated. He seemed like he was about to cry. You almost felt bad.

“Wouldn’t you rather cum inside me?” You seductively asked, looking at him through your lashes. He groaned, because of frustration or because he liked the idea, you didn’t know. He eagerly ripped your skirt off you before picking you up and sitting you on his hips. He maneuvered your panties to the side and pushed himself into you, your wetness making it easy. You cried out, trying to adjust to his size. He held still as he knew you were stretching for him, busying himself by kissing your neck.

“Move, please.” You moaned out to him. He didn’t even take a second before he set a pace, quickly moving himself in and out of you. Filthy sounds could be heard coming from the place where you both met as well as from both of your mouthes. It sounded like heaven. His thumb reached between you two, quickly finding your clit and rubbing slow circles, making you moan out even louder. A tight coil was forming in your tummy, a feeling you knew thanks to Mattheo.

“I’m gonna cum soon.” You warned, and suddenly he stopped all movement, just like you had done before. You regretted your previous mistake, now empathizing with Mattheo.

“Why should you get to cum? You didn’t let me finish earlier.” He smirked teasingly. You were on the brink of tears, previously so close to your orgasm just for it to be snatched from your gasp.

“Please! I’ll be good, I’ll do anything! I’m so sorry, baby.” You cried, grasping at his chest and trying to plead with your eyes. He laughed.

“Yeah? You’re sorry? Hmm. I don’t know yet.” He seemed like he was pretending to think about it, coaxing you to continue.

“Yes, yes, please. Please, Matt, fuck me better than Theo could.” You pleaded, kissing his neck. You knew that would get him. Unsurprisingly, that fueled him, and he finally started moving again, this time faster and more aggressively. His dick slammed into you, deeper and faster than ever. You moaned repeatedly into his ear, but he was only grunting.

“Better than Theo, baby?” He asked, clearly jealous.

“Yes, ahh, yes Matt.” You said between moans. You noted that he fucked rough when he was jealous. His thumb on your clit quickened its pace, bringing you closer and closer.

“I’m going to cum, baby.” You told him, clenching around his dick again and again.

“Cum, then. Cum for me, princess. Show me how good I make you feel.” He breathed out. You could feel he was close too. His cock kept twitching inside you, his thrusts getting sloppier. With that, you came, scratching his back and shoulders with your nails as you rode out your orgasm.

“I’m gonna cum in this tight little pussy, gonna show you who you belong to.” He said before fulfilling his promise.

He stilled inside you, both of you panting to catch your breath. “Gotta keep my cum inside, don’t want it leaking out.” He explained. You moaned at the thought.

“Can we stay like this forever?” You asked. It felt so nice to have him so close to you, still filling you up. He laughed, enjoying the thought.

————————

For @claud012 who asked for a part 2 <3

[jjsfavgirl]

NSFW alphabet • j.maybank

Enjoy this!!

Warnings: p in v sex , oral m and f receiving , shower sex , dirty talk , fingering , aftercare , corruption kink , sex toys , dom! JJ , sub! JJ , dom! Reader , Sub! Reader , eating cum , oral fixation, size kink , smoking weed , mentions of UTI , male masturbation , talk of erections? , teasing , quickies.

18+

-

A- after care | JJ is BIG on taking care of you after you have sex, because of how rough he is afterwards he’s a big softie. Lets you wear his shirts, even sits with you in the bathroom checking on your while u pee as to avoid a UTI, he’ll then carry you back to bed place a kiss on your forehead then cuddle you till you both fall asleep.

B- body part | as much as he loves your personality my man is an ass man at heart, always squeezing your ass while you’re bouncing up and down on his cock, giving it it firm slap whenever you are just existing in your house. He always gives you his smaller boxers just so he can see your plump bum cheeks sneak through the bottom.

C- cum | my man cums HARD. Especially if he doesn’t masturbate for a while his white liquid comes out in strings after strings. He makes many jokes about being a proclaimed “artist” after he’s covered 90% of your body in his seed. Your face, your tits, your stomach,your ass, your thighs.

D- dick | JJ is fucking hung, he always thought he was average due to all the porn he’s watched. But when you first fooled around at the château, you were on your knees in front off JJ as he was man spread on John B’s couch when he quickly fumbled to open his belt and slide down his long cargo shorts which caused his large hard length to spring out of his boxers. He loves the thought of his big dick pressing against all the walls in your cervix , doing the stomach trick just to see him tip above your belly button.

E- experience | he had slept with quite a few girls before he met you, but once he did he stopped fooling around with girls out of respect in case you one day felt the same. He has experience on the sex side of things but he lacked the emotional connection with most his previous partners so when he met you he almost cried the first time you had sex. ( my poor touch starved baby ).

F- favourite position | he doesn’t understand all the really intricate positions he just thinks fucking is fucking and you don’t need to be mid twister match in order to have an orgasm. His favourite position is simple, you laying in his bed, his hands beside your head as he plowed into you from above, looking down at your orgasm face in awe.

G- goofy | his highness depends on how silly he is during sex. If he’s high he’ll be laughing and smiling the whole way through, it’s ten times worse if you’re both high, it’s just a laughing mess. But both fully sober and not in an intoxicated state he’s more serious.

H- hair | he has never once dared to try shave down there. Out of fear he might slice off his dick and also how much you begged him not to whenever he randomly brought up the subject of even trimming his pubes.

I- intimacy | the way he shows his intimacy during the act is with his words. He’s very vocal during sex. Doing so well for me baby , you can take it I know you can , c’mon princess cum for me , you’re so beautiful , m’fuck love this pussy.

J- Jack off | he is just as feral with masturbating as he is with sex, he’s cut down on his masturbation since you started dating ( always being able to have you get rid of his erections ). However, before you were dating my man would have to run back into the château bathroom after a day of watching you play volleyball with the other pogues in your tight pink bikini as your tits bounced around and almost slipped out every time you ran over to JJ in order to high five him.

K- kink | he isn’t the most kinky person ever, but he loves the thought of completely ruining you (corruption kink I think this is ) . If you’re a good girl kook he’ll love plowing into you and reminding you what your family would think about their A+ perfect daughter getting fucked rough by a dirty pogue.

L- location | he is a mostly bed sex guy. He doesn’t want to get caught or let anyone else see you in the orgasmic state that’s only for his bright blue eyes to see.But he loves surprising you by jumping into the shower with you, lathering your tits up with soap as he blows his load into your from behind.

M- motivation | he’s mostly turned on by just you in general. Your whole being makes him hard. But his main thing is kind of weird. It’s you being nice. If you smile brightly at him my man is bricked up immediately, or if your having a conversation with the bar tender as they’re making yours and his drinks he’ll watch your face intently as you smiled and laughed with the girl across from you ( if it’s a man it’s a different story ).

O- oral | as much as he loves getting his dick sucked, his favourite thing ever is pleasing his girl. He’s always eating you out, every spare second he has his tongue is exploring your folds as his finger enters your dripping hole. His tongue will flick and suck your clit as his fingers will brush against your gooey g-spot. ( he will also know that you have a massive oral fixation and will always bight his biceps whenever he’s wearing a short sleeved shirt or no shirt at all.)

P- pace | usually his pace varies during sex depending on the type of sex , sometimes he’ll be rough and fast and quickly overstimulate you enjoying watching you squirm but the other time he’ll be slow, allowing you to fully adjust to his size and stretching your walls, he will talk you through it and place kisses all over your face every time he lent down to your face.

Q- quickie | no matter how rough and fast he is, JJ isn’t the biggest fan of quickies, of course he will fuck your quickly in your pink bikini before going on a boat trip with the pogues but he prefers sex sensual and slow.

R- can’t think of one :( the prompt I’m using says risk for R but I can’t think of any I’m sorry guys :)

S- stamina | my man is fucking energetic , never once stopping to take a break during sex or take a breath while eating your pussy. But the second you both pull back, chests heaving up and down and heavy breaths filling the room he’s out like a light, falling asleep immediately or being stuck in a fucked haze.

T- toys | JJ doesn’t own any toys for himself but enjoys using your own toys on you. He’s not into the whole BDSM thing but he’s willing to use your vibrator and dildos on you so he can watch you in overstimulated pleasure.

U- unfair | JJ fucking Maybank is the biggest tease known to man. He will tease you from the second you get on the HMS Pogue. Hand on your thigh which inches closer to the hem of your bikini, pulling you into his lap and gripping your bare hips with his ringed fingers and lightly rubbing you against his hard erection.

V- volume | he’ll always try and match your volume, if your quiet, he’s gunna be quiet. But, he will always be talking you through it . M’Doing so good f’me baby , taking me so well , this pussy was made for me.

W- wild card | a random head cannon: he always tells John B and Pope that he’s the dominant one always. Which is pro dominantly true. Sometimes . Sometimes he’ll crumble under your touch as you’re overstimulating the poor boy by grinding forwards and backwards on his long length as it hits all the right places inside you, his hair was soaked in sweat at the tips as his ringed hands cling tightly to your bare hips, moving you in all the place he wanted causing his head to tilt back in pure ecstasy.

X- X-ray | under his clothes (we’ve all seen in obx cmon my mansey is fine) he has very tough muscular arms, his abs are formed into a perfect six pack which makes you drool every time he’s on top of you thrusting into you while you whine and beg for more.

Y- yearning | luckily for JJ he was blessed with a girlfriend with just the same sex drive as him. Let me just say for the first month of your relationship all you and JJ wanted was to be with each other inside all day, every day. Let’s just say you still go at it like rabbits and nothing has changed.

Z- zzzz | after sex, JJ’s eyes will to shut but he knows that he has to take care of his princess first, cleaning up his left overs from between her thighs, placing a soothing kiss on her still sweaty forehead before carrying her to the toilet for her after-sex-piss before carrying her back to bed and tossing one of his weed smelling shirts over her head with a smile.

Enjoy!!!

[adeptus-nonsense]

humans are poets as well as warmongers

Humans nowadays are well known far and wide in this galaxy. Mostly because they are some of the most chaotic, Stupid or bold "daredevils" around (think i used that word correctly).

While i do recall my first meeting with the humans very V E R Y badly since i served in the contact wars when the Graktuka a well known theocratic empire and very influential and politically strong contender in the galaxy stumbled across human colonies. They saw this as an hostile action since the planet they were settling were a holy world, That however is a story for another time.

Just know that the Graktuka empire shrunk by a significant margin to the point where they asked for militairy support. The humans had apparently developed a kind of magnetic accelerated firing plattform piercing through multiple layers of hull completely ignoring shields. Given that Graktuka empire relied on shields since most of the galactic arsenal is plasma based but their hull wasn't weak at all. Unconventional weapons had to be used to even dent their armour. Realising that the humans ships were massive but rather primitive and slow a ground based invasion was seen to be the optimal way off going.

If you were there you would know why humanity is as feared as they are. Masters of the what did they call it? Art of war? Yeah something like that. Fields of bombs buried into the ground detonating with a light step. Weapons dedicated to injure soldiers just enough to save them but not kill them in order to make the invader spend more resources on saving said soldier.

Even our bases of operations with shields were not safe, let me tell you if you think regular humans can cause damage to stuff by touching things dont even get near trained saboteurs with your stuff. They break things in a ways that seems like a simple malfunction and will work after a simple repair. When the shield generator first broke down i thought i could fix it in a matter of minutes, I still havent fixed it to this day and i have taken that thing apart thousands of times without finding the fault.

safe to say we lost that war and this is just one one planet. This was the short part. Just be glad that they pack bond with just about anything. Saw a human carry a cleaning unit and named it "Ronald the Roomba" And that is apparently our ships mascot. But this is things we all are aware of. Let me tell you of their poetic side

This is not something most of us see as common knowledge about humans, but their cultural aspect besides war is for a lack of better words beautiful. This thing they call music.

for all their wars they know how brutal they are and write songs about everything they did wrong and how they wished how they could change it. But that is not all, according to human Jakob music portrays emotions and ones feelings in a way that regular communication doesn't and you dont even need to understand the words to understand the emotion said piece is carrying. Which i know to be true, it's almost therapeutic

I think My log of it will be a better way to describe since it is honestly hard to describe [alltough be careful their music is quite loud for most prey species]

Year 4574 human sector 456854 log 1 of service leave. I am currently here on a passion project of mine. While the war has ended 6 years ago off now the tensions do still exist. Me and some comrades in service are taking some time off and going to what humans call a bar and apparently there is a human performing. I have no idea of how this is gonna go. All i know is humans are incredibly chaotic especially when intoxicated. Still i should probably record this for the culture scientists at social scientific hub.

Log 2

*murmur and loud talking in the background at the bar*

"for clarifications sake, my name is Groakslo, i am here with my two comrades Kyukla and Telosa. We are currently at the bar only to see that humans are actively drinking poison, i was quite shocked to hear this and asked if it isn't dangerous and the bartender said and i quote "nah we gucci" note to self find out what gucci is."

Log 3

"the humans were beginning to get rowdy and even slight outbursts of violence did occur but nothing the surprisingly loud bartender couldn't handle by a very concerning threat, followed by him saying that the band is preparing so settle down. Telosa and i looked at each other very confused but still awaited this "band"

Log 4

"the band arrived and started to set up weird things, long instruments with metal strings, of varying thickness, i asked the a human who were close by what they were and he said instruments. I asked what they were used for and he said to play music. I was getting nowhere and decided to see for myself what they were gonna do."

Log 5 (i decided to be quiet for this one)

"welcome folks and aliens of all sorts shapes and kinds! Thank you for coming to this bar for our first debut our name is The Lines In between, and for those who dont know human music, we'll slowly lean you into it with this first on and it is namned Memories beneath the stars" [3 hours of music recorded]

Final log (yes i know i could voice record but i want to write while the memory is fresh i'm bad with words)

I never knew that humans could make such songs. Telosa and Kyukla was particurlarly affected. The song was as the name suggest the memories we made sneaking out to watch the stars as younglings, reminiscing about the times when the stars were the most unknown, adventure filled and beautiful place to be in. But also about the connections they've lost over the years, the good times wiped away like a water slowly polishing a stone into sand. It was odd, beautiful calm, sad all at once.

The voices i heard when i fought humans in war can not even be compared to that of the singer in that band, what is most perplexing is that the once borderline rioting bar was completely quiet when the band was performing, almost as if in a trance completely captured by the singers voice, smooth, rough, raspy but controlled in a way i thought impossible. A song about 4 human minutes somehow managed to capture the full emotional spektrum of not only humans but multiple species in that bar.

Humans truly are an astounding species. Truly a species that are on all of the extremes, stupidity, ingenuity, violence, poetry and many many more. For now i'll sign off and hope you at the social cultural exchange fellas have a field day with the music file attached to this.

Grokslo, highly decorated former geothermical shield generator militairy specialist.

[bunnie-online]

love you like me. {A.S.}

part one || read while listening

warnings: modernAU, OOC ani, rough, dubcon!!!!, fear kink (??), name calling, oral (f receiving) unprotected p in v (STAY SAFE YALL), slight breathplay

MINORS DNI || NOT EDITED

(ty for your patience !!)

"You know, you don't have to act out for me to prove it to you. You can just ask."

his breath on your ear was almost intoxicating. he lets out a mocking chuckle at your rigid body language.

“tch aww what’s wrong?” he leans in closer. “did you think i was oblivious to the way you look at me? you’re the most obvious person i’ve ever met.” his voice lulling you into a false sense of security for his next actions.

he suddenly wraps his large hand around your neck, your eyes roll into the back of your head momentarily as you let out a sigh. “ya know, one of the best parts about our annoyingly thin walls, is that i hear you gossiping with your friends about all the nasty, dirty things you like.” he whispers again. “stand up.” he orders you.

you follow his command, as your stood your legs wobbled slightly. he adjusted his grip to the back of your neck, pushing and guiding you down the hallway to his bedroom. “is this really happening right now?!” you thought to yourself, you’ve fantasized about Anakin having his way with you for the entire duration of your friendship. this feels too good to be true. you were ripped from your thoughts when Anakin roughly shoved you onto his bed, you landed face down.

you start turning onto your back when he grabs you and flips you over quicker. your eyes are wide, surprise, lust and a hint of terror are swirling around your irises. “aw, am i scaring you, baby?” he pouts, his voice full of artificial sympathy. you nod meekly, unable to form a coherent response.

“oh, sweet girl.” he leans in, gripping your cheeks with one hand. “i know you like it. desperate sluts like you love being scared.” your eyes widen again in pure shock. you’ve never heard Anakin speak this way before, the tone in his voice, the words he’s using. you knew he wasn’t completely innocent but you didn’t think he was this immoral.

“and” he climbs on top of you, his muscular arms on either side of your head. “you’re forgetting, doll. i know every. little. thing. about you.” he starts kissing your face, trailing down your jaw onto your neck. “these walls are thin, remember. i even know what speed you use on your vibrator.” Anakin laughs menacingly at your gasp. your face is a flushed as it gets.

“you can hear that?” you sputter out. “everything. i hear everything.” he answers, his hips starting to unconsciously grind down against you. “i’m gonna make you forget every other man who has ever touched you.”

Anakin climbs off of you to access your jeans. he pauses for a second, waiting for you to stop him, you give him a nod of approval. he might be ravaging you, but he still respects you.

after receiving permission, he unbuttoned your pants and pulled them off of you hastily, taking your panties with them. “oh you’re so beautiful.” he whispers almost to himself. “gonna make you addicted to me.” his words slurring, drunk on power and pleasure.

he grabs your ankles and yanks you towards him, your ass almost hanging off the bed. he drops to his knees and nuzzles his face between your legs. licking a long tantalizing stripe up your folds. you arch your back and pleasure and your hands tangle through his dirty blonde curls as he continues his ministrations. Anakin was good at this, way too good at this. not too long after he started, you were almost ready to let go. your breathing heavy and legs shaking. Anakin stopped his actions abruptly. the whine you let out was simply pathetic.

“shhh i know, baby i know.” he caressed your face. “ ‘m gonna make you cum, i promise. but i want you to cum on my cock.” he leans down to leave one last kiss on your heat. he stands up quickly, barely giving you time to adjust to any of his movements. before you knew it he was leaning over you, your knees tucked to your chest, and his cock just barely poking you.

“gonna make you feel good okay, baby? no one’s gonna ever make you feel the way i do.” he takes your face into his hand again softly stroking it, once again luring you in with gentle, loving hands before going in for the attack.

his hand comes up to cover your mouth and nostrils before he forces his cock into you. you let out a muffled scream. Anakin is the biggest you’ve ever had. not to mention the best, the way he’s moving his hips is making your head spin, but that could also be from the lack of air. there’s a very dull burn in your lungs due to your airways being cut off. you tap at his wrist twice and he moves his hand. you start gasping for air in between his harsh thrusts.

“you co-vered my nose! i co-uldn’t breathe!” your words coming out choppy due to Anakin’s hips pounding into yours. “i know.” he smirks knowingly. “now shut up and let me use you.” no one has ever used you like this before, you’ve certainly brought up your kinks to some of your hookups but most of them mainly let them go in one ear and out the other. all Anakin had to do was overhear your depraved little fantasies.

he covers your mouth again, this time he’s given you the gift of breathing. your pitiful whines and moans once again muffled by his large hand. you struggled to keep your eyes open, but you wanted to gaze at the gorgeous sight in front of you.

Anakin’s hair was almost covering his eyes, his mouth was hung slack, letting his moans just fall out. his toned abs contracting with each thrust. Anakin Skywalker is nothing less than a vision. he’s beyond beautiful.

your climax was rapidly approaching, Anakin’s earlier actions had such a heavy impact on you, you’ve never orgasmed this quickly with anyone else before. it usually takes a while of specific stimulation to get you off, but Anakin’s relentless pounding is everything you need right now, and he can tell. your walls squeezing down onto him, making his eyes roll backwards and his mouth drop even further. “that’s it, baby. that’s it. cum for me. cum on my cock, pretty girl.”

you wrap your hands around his wrists, digging your nails into the skin. your eyes go wide before snapping shut with your release, you almost see stars they closed so tightly. you velvety walls pulse down onto Anakin. causing his hips to stutter. he pulls out just in time for him to shoot cum onto your stomach. a harmony of your sounds of pleasure echo throughout the room.

Anakin finally releases your mouth and you pant, being granted the chance to catch your breath. he collapses on top of you, his arms shaking from holding up his body weight and the adrenaline pumping through his veins.

“you’re deleting those apps. those guys can’t compare to me.”

‘cocky’ you thought

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

AHH I HOPE THIS WAS OKAY!!! IM NOT USED TO WRITING ACTUAL SMUT IM SORRY😭

~bunnie

[sugarsong78]

The ritual (Part 3)

Summary: The blood moon has finally arrived on pandora and the Navi are very enthusiastic upon its arrival. The clan leader observes this night as a gift from eywa, and to appease her a ritual must take place for it. And Turok makto’s sons are more than eager to perform this very ritual.

Warnings: Aged up! Neteyam 21, Aged up! Loak 20, Noncon, Dub-con, manhandling to the reader, Licking, P in V, Hair pulling, Knotting, Slight humiliation, Fingering, Handjob, Dirty talk, Belly bulge, Marking/Scenting, Riding, Multiple orgasms, Biting, Blood, Kissing, Creampie

A/N: I’ve never wrote smut ever in my whole life so here you go 🫤

Loak stared down at you as he pinned you down on the ground, he continued to salivate from the site of you, you looked so beautiful and so very delicious. He watches as you continue to struggle underneath the tight grip he had on both of your arms. Him and his brother watched and chuckled in amusement as you fail to break through his hold. “ P-please! Please release me loak! I swear I’ll do anything for y’all! Anything but this please!!”

Your begging made both of the demonic brothers chuckle. “ Oh baby why don’t you relax? We’re gonna have such an amazing time together so just sit back and enjoy yourself.” Loak smirked a toothy grin and he began to lick your face with his awfully long tongue which felt wet and slimy. You shivered at the sensation “ah!ahh!” Loak continued to lick your cheek making you even more uncomfortable. Tears were streaming down your face and loak lapped them up, “mmm. Don’t worry (y/n).”

Neteyam watched the scene in interest, the sight of you being pinned down by his brother and your tearful wailing made him feel exhilarated. He wagged his tail and flew over to the other side of me, he closed his bat like wings and sat down on his knees. The lighting of the blood moon shined down on the two brothers making them gleam in a dangerous sinister light. Loak stopped licking your face and you felt cold due to the slightly chilly air and thanks to Loak’s saliva. Loak let go of both of your arms and you were then hoisted up by neteyam, he huddled you up to his neck and he sat you down and his legs as he held both of your arms.

He then began to lean towards your neck and was intoxicated by your wonderful scent. You tensed up as neteyam moved his nose up and down on your throat and hummed in satisfaction “You smell so good paskalin. Mmm you smell even better than the last offering we had before.” I froze at his last statement and started trembling. I remembered last year’s blood moon when a girl named luray was offered away to sully brothers and afterwards she has never been heard from or seen ever since. It’s also a forbidden topic to speak about in the clan and anyone who even mentions it was silenced immediately by Jake or one of his family members. The brothers have both been feared and praised from the clan members ever since this incident occurred.

Neteyam kept scenting your neck and he then started to lick it which made you gasp from the feeling “Ah! No!” He laughed and licked one more time, he leaned next to your ear “ You taste so good baby, I can only imagine how your blood tastes hm? Won’t you let me have some?” I begin to tremble and I then completely forgot all about loak, he flickered his long tongue to scent the air and he scented my arousal and grinned. “ I can smell you (y/n) you’re already getting all excited and wet for us both huh?” I blushed madly at Loak’s remark, but it was neteyam that made me feel even more embarrassed “ Oh is that it? You’re wet from this already we’re just getting started sevin.”

Neteyam grins as he continued holding me in the same position as before, loak moved his snake body right in front of me and he admired my legs. He started to kiss one of my legs while Neteyam started to remove my top gently. He admired your breasts and noticed how big they were and he then began to rub the both of them which I tried to compress a moan from but I couldn’t. Loak looked at my loin cloth and he then pulled my legs apart and scented me again, he licked his lips and ripped it off. I began to blush even more from being completely exposed like this, loak giggled and moved his fingers towards my pussy and saw how wet I was “ Look at how wet you are for us mama, you’re gushing out like a water fall.” He then sucked on his two fingers coated with my juices and moaned “ And you taste so sweet like the most sweetest fruit I ever had.”

Neteyam moved you up slightly his knees were still on the ground while he wrapped his tail around your waist he still gripped his arms around yours so you wouldn’t move. “I could already feel how much you enjoyed this from before sevin, you were soaking from all of touching” neteyam purred. He then pinched on of your nipples which caused you to wimper. In front of your entrance loak begin to lick and kiss around your clit that was met with subtle gasp and groans from you. After a while he then sinked his mouth into your damp cunt and begins to mouth into it like he hasn’t eaten in days.

“Mghh-ohhh!!” I moaned at the new sensation, loaks tongue texture felt so long and moist he lapped at my folds in a circular motion that caused him to moan too. I was squirming on neteyam’s lap as loak kept sucking on my pussy like a starved animal, meanwhile neteyam started to lick my left breast and suckled on my nipple. I felt so overstimulated it was too much as neteyam moved onto my neck and started to lick and suck on it “ Ahh-mhhh! So- soo much!” My moans sounded like pure ecstasy to the brothers and they can’t help but chuckle at my moans.

Neteyam then grabs my hair and pulls me upward to get a better angle at my neck and he leaned next to my ear “ I’m going to get a taste of you now my beautiful girl so this will hurt just a bit alright.” He then bites down on my neck “ Nghh-Ahhhhhh!!” It felt so painful, tears ran down on my face from the pain. Neteyam moaned from the taste of my blood “ Ohh my ewya. You taste so delicious! Ah your blood is the sweetest thing I’ve ever had!” He was astonished by the flavor of your blood as it was like a whole new nourishment for him, he bites down on your neck once again to savor the flavor. “Gahh!!” I cringed from him biting my tender neck once again, but then he finally let go of my neck and the pain lessened.

His entire mouth was covered in blood and he licked his lips and grinned at me. He let go of my hair and began to lick the remaining blood on my neck, this caused my wound to sting more and I whimpered from the feeling of his moist tongue. loak continued to massage and lick my pussy and I started to feel myself getting closer. He sped up the process and tapped at my pussy which made me cum. I moaned loudly as I climaxed into Loak’s mouth and he slurped and drank all of my juices like he was thirsty “ Damn baby! You tasted so damn good, and your pussy was so sweet like candy.” I felt so exhausted my body was starting to ache and my neck felt so sore after neteyam attacked it “ Now you can’t be falling asleep just yet sevin we’re not quite done with you just yet” he grinned a bloody smile. “ He’s right mama were not finished yet, after all we still need to do the main event you know” loak licked his lips and stared at you which caused you to plead weakly “ Ple-please, I promise I -I won’t tell anyone, just let me go”.

Both of the brothers looked at each other and laughed demonically as it was the most funniest thing they’ve ever heard. They both looked at me and thier eyes glowed a vivid red.

“ Oh we’re not gonna let you go so easily (y/n). You see this is something that has to be done during this night as a tradition, but just because it’s an annual thing doesn’t mean that we don’t enjoy it. All of those loathsome offerings were so dull and bland. But when it finally came to you, that's when things started to get more exciting. In fact we have been anticipating and waiting for the day we could both have you." My entire body froze. Loak’s words sent chills down my spine, have they been watching me throughout all of these months?! “He's right little lamb. All of those pointless women we’ve received have all been such a bore for us. Thier blood tasted so stale and they kept begging for mercy. So Don’t you see?” Neteyam moves his previous position and lays me on the forest floor griping both of my arms, I tense from the sudden movement and he gives me the most darkest grin I've ever seen " Your safe with us.”

He starts to untie his loincloth and it hits the ground. I was froze when I saw his member, he was so big and the once blue skin is no replaced with grey skin and black stripes around it. It was decorated with red glowing freckles and the tip was pink.

I began to squirm in his hold and panicked “ Ah! W-wait! Please neteyam! We don't have to do it this way!"

Neteyam looked down at me with a dreamy expression " Oh but this is how it has to be performed little lamb. This is a sacred day for you" he positioned himself in front of your entrance " Cause your gonna look so good swollen with our seed."

He then inserted his large cock slowly into your wet pussy and this made you moan loudly " Ohhhhhhhh!" . He began to thrust in and out inside of you, his large cock was sliding against your soft walls at a fast pace. He grunts " Shit" he moaned " You feel so good (y/n).”

I never felt so full. Neteyam was so big and so warm inside of me. He continued thrusting inside of me while moaning.

Loak looked at the scene in front of him and he began to play with himself. The sight of you and your moans are turning him on. He keeps rubbing at his slit and his large member begins to come out slowly, it was large and pink it looked nothing like neteyam's.

Neteyam continued thrusting into me “ Oh my pretty girl, you’re squeezing me so well. So…good!” He then licked my mouth and kissed me his tongue battled for entrance and I knew I couldn’t resist.

You start to feel your knot getting even tighter. Neteyam was pounding deeper inside of your tight pussy, each thrust increasing with speed.

I was a moaning mess underneath him, his large thrusts into my gummy walls were overwhelming “ Say my name little lamb” he purred Into my ear, “ i know you feel me deep inside of your pretty pussy.” I moaned loudly “ Neteyaaam! Neteyam!” I strained myself from saying it but I couldn’t resist it.

“ Nghh your pussy is so good! I can’t hold back anymore, I’m going to cum Inside of you (y/n)!” Neteyam continues to ram inside of me desperately chasing his orgasm and then he Moans loudly.

“ (y/n)! Oh (Y/N)!!” Neteyam releases his thick ropes of cum inside of me. I Moaned so loud from the intense climax, I also came onto neteyam’s cock which coated it in cream. We panted for a moment and he then slid out of me.

Neteyam sighs in pleasure and stands up while watching his seed slide out of my semi conscious body. He grins at the sight and he leans down once more and gently caressing my face. “ You did so well my yawne, don’t worry your almost finished” he kissed my head.

He turns to loak“ She’s ready for you now loak.”

Loak grins and unhands his cock “ Heh, thanks bro!” He slithers towards my body laying flat on the ground as neteyam puts his loincloth back on. I was still panting from neteyam’s time with me and I looked up at loak.

“ Hey baby, I know you’re all tired from neteyam. So I’m gonna fuck you all nice and easy okay?” Loak then picked me up which made me whimper and put me to my side. He lifts his snake body to the side as well and holds my both of my sides. He positioned his cock next to my wet pussy and teases my folds.

“Mmm, you feel so wet angel.” I whimper at him prodding my entrance. He purrs and inserts himself inside of my wet folds. I moaned loudly, his length somehow felt even bigger than neteyam’s.

“ Oh fuck! You feel so good (y/n)! Your pussy is so tight!” Loak begins to pound into me relentlessly, I moaned with every thrust into my womb.

He then leans next my ear and begins to nibble and lick it “ Cmon mama, I know you love this. I know you love how deep I am in this pretty pussy of yours.” His words made me shiver and he licks my ear again. “ Moan my name for me baby” i moaned his name loudly “ ohhh! Loak! Loak!!”

Loak grins and began to pound into me harder, this was just too much for me. His length was getting hotter and hotter with each thrust and he began to grunt from the friction. “Ahh!! Oh I’m- I’m gonna-“ loak grunts “ Yeah baby! That’s it cum for me!”

I screamed as I cummed all over his cock, loak looked down at the sweet coating on his length and licked his lips. “ That felt amazing baby, now it’s my turn.” Loak thrusted into me faster and harder I was panting and moaned from his pounding. He then leaned down and kissed me, his long slimy tongue on top of mine filled up my mouth. He then released my mouth and a long slimy string of saliva connected with our tongues.

Loak started to growl and whimper “ Ohh fuck baby I’m gonna cum! Nghh I’m about to cum inside of your pussy!!” With a few deep final thrusts loak moans for a long while and filled my womb with his hot and thick seed.

I yelled as he filled me up with his thick seed, I felt even more full then before. Loak was still inside of me and we both kept panting from the large climax.

Loak slides himself out of me and looked at his cum seeping out of my pussy. “ Mmm such a beautiful sight (y/n)” he grabbed his loincloth and tied it back on his snake waist. I remained on the ground exhausted from all of the activity. “ You did so good baby! Now you’re all finished!”

Neteyam walks over to me and loak “ We’re so proud of you yawne and now with this the ritual is complete.” Neteyam and loak both grin “ Aw (y/n)! You’re going to be such a wonderful mother!” Loak giggled and smiled down at me. I could barely understand what they were saying but I was soo exhausted that I fell asleep.

“Aw so cute. Our bunny is so exhausted” loak says while chuckling. Neteyam bends down and picks me up bridal style. “Sleep well little lamb”

Taglist: @rivatar @eywaite

[lokischocolatefountain]

Sunglasses

Married!Javi series Masterlist

Follow me on @javierpenaisapunk for my fic recs

Fandom: Narcos

Pairing: Javier Peña x Reader

Rating: G (wooo, that’s a first for me) Just fluffy fluff, you guys.

Word count: 1.6k words

Summary: Of all the things Javi has seen through his sunglasses, the sunglasses’ favorite sight is his relationship with his wife.

A/N: Apparently I’m writing fics from the POV of objects now. Hopefully it’s not really weird lol. Hit the follow button to read my next fic golf from the perspective of the sex Afghan on Javi’s leather couch (jk). Leave your girl a comment and reblog to fuel my obsession with writing this guy.

The Aviators were a staple of his look.

They could be anywhere. Dangling off the third or fourth button of his shirt at the bottom of the deep V that began at the collar. Perched on his nose, amber glass masking the intense gaze of intoxicating brown eyes.

They knew more intimately than most, his deepest fears. They had front row seats as he stared down the barrel of guns pointed at him. They knew the fear of seeing a teenage boy at the end of his gun, his hands shaking as the foundations of his morals stained under the pressure of his job.

If you asked them, they’d tell you of everything Javier saw at work, even the memories that he repressed to be able to wear his gun and badge another day. If you asked them, they’d tell you the first time he saw her. It was momentary. Fleeting. Nothing special. The aviators would let you know that his eyes did not linger, contrary to what his pretty pink lips whispered into her ears at night when he buried himself inside her. “Couldn’t take my eyes off of you the first time I saw you, Hermosa…” She’d moan and pull him close and kiss the lips that waxed poetic in between the dirty, dirty words that made her clench around him and pull his hair and arch her neck to let his lips taste her.

The aviators would tell you that they served as cover when he wanted to keep his emotions to himself. Police work did not take away how emotive those brown eyes were. So they sometimes served as blinds on the window to his soul.

She was the sunglasses’ favorite sight. Not because she was extraordinarily beautiful. Their owner would disagree- he would argue that she was extraordinary in every way, including beauty. He would add a couple more adjectives. But the aviators were more objective than the man they belonged to. However, both man and sunglasses could agree that she was their favorite view.

For Javier, it was her beauty- the spark in her eyes, the upward turn of her lips when she spotted him, the sign of desire when she looked him up and down, the way her shirts clung to her breasts, the fabric of her skirts that hugged her ass— you get the gist. For the sunglasses, the joy was in the way his eyes responded to the view.

First it was just curiosity. Pretty woman, sat by herself at the same restaurant where he sometimes had breakfast. Hard not to notice that she was a regular, one who sat at the exact same table and ate the same breakfast everyday.

Then it was desire. Nothing out of the normal for the man, the aviators would tell you. They’d seen desire on his side plenty when he saw women through them. The glasses were an accomplice to the way his eyes would gallivant over beautiful bodies. They sat close as his mind evaluated just how much he would love to have other parts of his body enjoy what his eyes had spotted.

As the relationship progressed, the aviators found themself in the mix a lot. Their owner found himself visiting her more often than other women. The pair was sometimes pressed against the chests of the couple as they drank from each other’s lips. Her hand sometimes took them off its place tucked in his shirt and set them on her bedside table.

The sunglasses would be the first to tell you when everything changed between Javier and the woman. At least on Javier’s part. Eyes that roamed the surroundings frantically to look for danger in every room acted uncharacteristically around her. They’d stop on her, take her in. Just when the glasses thought that their owner’s eyes had had enough, they’d find him continuing to stare. They were glad the man had her to look at. Something nice. Someone that made him happy.

She got closer to him than anyone else. And he let her.

The aviators weren’t a perfect barrier. If one stepped closer, stood heart to heart with the man, emotive brown eyes would reveal the depths of the soul.

She saw it through the sunglasses’ amber barrier. He allowed her the spot in front of his chest from where she could see it. She seemed to like what she saw, staying in the spot he gave her though he was afraid, though his mind told him to step back before she saw too much— before he liked what he saw more than he should. The aviators could tell you that he was long past that point.

There was no stopping now.

It was because of her that the aviators knew there was a world beyond sicarios, sex workers, and bosses cross at Javier for his transgressions.

There were dates in grassy parks, picking her up from university, and accompanying her to markets where she bought vegetables that Javier loaded in his jeep. The aviators were unaware of the existence of vegetables before that. They would be quite annoyed if you mocked them for this lapse in knowledge. To be fair to the object, Javier’s diet was strictly limited to whiskey and cigarettes.

The aviators were loyal. Javier only.

But they didn’t mind when she playfully snatched them off Javier’s face and placed them on her own. She played at his seriousness, looked through them in a mockery of his stern police-like gaze and let some expletives slip off her tongue in an imitation of him. It pleased the sunglasses that this woman who was so close to him believed them to be such an essential part of him that she used them to mimic him.

They got a glimpse into her soul then, could see that she had no malicious intent in snatching them off the rightful owner. It was not theft.

The twinkle in his eyes when she did that told the glasses that he enjoyed it. Other belongings found themselves on his women quite a lot. Especially his colorful shirts. They told stories of the beautiful women who’d wear them for a period after they’d been discarded on the floor in favor of access to the chest they covered up. The aviators didn’t have any such stories.

Until her.

The aviators would tell the shirts that they’d met her eyes, seen into her soul, seen that she liked him just as much as he liked her. The shirts in turn shared that he liked seeing her wear them after they found pleasure in each other’s bodies. It was different with her, the shirts would say. He liked her wearing them— the shirts — not just because he liked evidence of beautiful bodies in his belongings. No, he liked his woman wearing his shirts.

He lent them to her sometimes. When she squirted under the bright sun, he’d pluck them off his own face and offer them for her to wear. She’d smile and accept them, taking it as a gesture that he cared.

The sunglasses knew before the man himself that he’d fallen in love. Closest to the windows to his soul and all. His shirts would argue that they knew even before the sunglasses— they felt his heart beat faster when she came into contact with him. The sunglasses would argue that they knew better than the shirts— shirts changed everyday, but sunglasses didn’t.

They had the full picture if you will.

Ironically, the full picture was forgotten when it came to her. He had eyes only for her when she was around, the background blending together and fading away. Nothing else was important. They stared before only because of her physicality, but now they stared to learn and memorize every inch of her. They delighted in every micro expression, every smile and every frown, every which way she responded to him.

If you asked the aviators, they’d tell you proudly of being there when Javier’s eyes found a sparkling diamond ring in a jewelry store display. He took them off to admire it, to see its natural twinkle without the amber barrier. He didn’t buy it.

It was after all the biggest, shiniest rock that made it to the display of the store.

Not something one could afford on a government salary. Nothing you’d find on a humble professor’s finger. But, it put the thought in his head. Marriage. It frightened him, but not because of the commitment. No, it was fear that no sparkly bit of carbon would make her agree to a lifetime with his ass. He didn’t feel it with the last woman, Lorraine.

They blended in with her things soon. Next to her hair clip, her novel, both their wristwatches, and her earrings that he removed and set aside carefully when they made love. Just as his pants and shirts acquainted themselves with her dresses— on their bedroom floor, their laundry hamper, their dresser drawers.

Amber glasses would acquire scratches over the years. Javier would leave it forgotten in a drawer somewhere in his new home with his wife. Another pair of aviators, shiny and unscratched, would sit on the bridge of his beautiful nose. But if you asked them, they’d tell you of their clear vision though the scratches and from the dark depths of the drawer. They’d tell you that he still looked at her with the same adoration despite the years.

They’d find themselves roughhoused in small hands that like to play pretend. They'd sit on a nose, smaller yet similar to Javier’s as little lips that definitely belonged to her tried to talk like Papa. She’d laugh and tell him that their little one sounded exactly like him. He’d roll his eyes but enjoy the peaceful bubble he’d managed to forge with her.

The new aviators stayed shiny for not having seen the horrors, for having only the sight of his happy wife and growing family. But the OG, they’d proudly tell you that they shined despite the horrors of his old DEA job because they were there when it all began.

[makeyoumine69]

The Light in the Darkness 2

— PAIRING: Patrick Bateman x Fem!Reader

— SUMMARY: Patrick has always seen himself as an outcast with no desire for ties that would bind him to anyone or anything. He never even considered having a future with anyone else, but you came into his life and rocked his world. One morning, as he comforts you from a nightmare, Patrick realizes how ready he is to take the first step toward building the bright future he so desperately wants by your side.

— CONTAINS: Smut, fluff, hurt/comfort, established relationship, somnophilia, oral (reader receiving), fingering, unprotected sex (p in v), creampie, possessive behavior, Breeding kink, Size kink, Praise kink, body worship, nipple play, dirty talk, pet names, sweet & horny Patrick Bateman himself.

— WORDS: 1.5k

— SONG REC: Taylor Swift - Ready For It

— A/N: I just couldn't ignore my need to write some smut with breeding kink and possessive Patty. Many thanks to my dearest @sleeplessphantom for all the inspiration and support you give me. I love y'all and hope you like it!🖤

— LINKS: [MASTERLIST] [Part 1] [support]💗

Screaming, you were falling into the abyss, not realizing it was a dream. Not yet. Cold fear and numbing despair consumed you faster than the speed at which you were falling, and you didn't even know what to do, it seemed that no one was going to save you — you were alone, and that feeling was the most painful for you to bear. Loneliness was destructive and devastating, but when you met Patrick, you finally understood what it was like — to be loved, to be needed, to have a person who genuinely cared for you.

Your slight fidgeting was enough for Bateman to wake up and carefully check on you. With a gentle movement, he rolled you onto your back, pulled the blanket down, and ran his finger over your tense face as if he already knew what was going on. 

"It's okay, Bunny," he murmured, dipping down your neck to plant small kisses along your sensitive skin. "I got you."

You jerked as his large palm slid across your rapidly rising chest, teasing your hard nipples that were too tempting to ignore. Slowly, Patrick tugged down the straps of your nightgown, exposing your lovely breasts and gasping at how inviting they looked. To be fair, the urge to fuck you senselessly had been tormenting him since he came home, but your mental state was far more important to him than his own physical needs. Of course, if it were anyone else in your place, he wouldn't think about their feelings for a second. But you? You were his exception, his true obsession.

"Mmhmm... Patty," you whimpered in your dream at the gentle touch on your cleavage, but then a muffled moan escaped your dry lips as Patrick's plump ones wrapped around one of your swollen little tips and sucked it hungrily. "Patrick!"

The dream had changed, and you stopped falling, but your heart began to beat even faster as the electrifying sensation in your lower abdomen became stronger, especially when Bateman caught another nipple between his fingers, twisting and pinching it so skillfully that you squealed again, and this time it was really loud.

"Babydoll," he purred in a charming voice against your lips, watching you frown and breathe heavily. "You sound so sweet. Mmm, the things I want to do with you," Patrick slowly traced a wet line down your neck and licked the artery that was pulsating really fast. "I hope you will excuse my little weakness."

With that, he made his way down your pretty little body, pausing on your stomach to plant a loving kiss — Bateman did his best to control himself, even though his inner beast yearned to be unleashed.

"Ahhh," you almost choked on the air at how good his mouth felt on your oozing, taut lower lips. "Mmm—please..." 

The sight of your sleeping, fragile form, along with your innocent pleading and intoxicating taste, made his lungs burn with need as he was overwhelmed by surging desire.

"I'll give you even more than that, Bunny." He said, spreading your legs wider, making himself more comfortable between them to have better access to your juicy pussy.

At first, Patrick just drew a wet line across your inner hip, but then he moved down to your mound, kissing it and nuzzling against your tender flesh as he moaned softly at how tasty you were. You nearly sobbed with the pleasure his warm tongue was giving you, sliding over your delicate petals and sometimes brushing your sensitive bud just to tease it.

"Awwww," you whimpered briefly as he rested your leg on his shoulder and slipped two fingers into your dripping opening just to make you feel full. "Patty..."

You were the only one Bateman allowed to call him that because he just found it extremely sexy, but he never confessed about it. Huffing, Patrick lapped at your pussy, holding you tighter as you jerked from the tingling in your lower abdomen every time the tip of his strong tongue flicked against your blushing clit.

The power he had over you was too tempting, too mind-blowing, and at some point Patrick thought he couldn't take it anymore, so he slowly pulled down his white underwear and stroked himself while he was eating you out. With every single lick your body was on fire and Bateman was relentless in the way he devoured you, catching every little drop of your sweetness and ignoring the way his chiseled chin was covered in your wetness, glistening in the sunlight.

"My perfect little Bunny." He groaned in a low voice, sending vibrations to your little nub, and your legs began to shake. Smirking, Bateman just chuckled at your body's reaction and straightened up a bit to cover your small frame with his muscular one. "I love you so much."

With these words, he drew close to your neck and slowly kissed it while he lined his veiny dick against your soaked entrance, smearing your juices around his swollen tip. The urge to be inside of you was unbearable, he even had to bite his lips to suppress a loud moan as he began to sheath himself inside your tight little hole. 

It felt astonishing, his fat girth stretching you so deliciously that your inner walls spasmed around him, forcing your eyes wide open — you tried to scream, but he closed your mouth with his big palm and pushed himself further until you felt him poking at your cervix. And that sensation made you feel so numb that you almost bit one of his fingers.

"Shh, Babydoll," he murmured, watching you bat your big eyelashes in such an innocent way that it drove him crazy. "You can take it."

With a mischievous smile, he grabbed your hip and rammed deeper into you, the curve of his dick hitting all the right spots in your womb as he knew your body better than anything in this world. Whimpering, you didn't even notice how you were moving towards him, looping your legs around his back, so he could push himself even deeper. His long, raw strokes, accomplished by the friction of his pubis against your feverish clit, provided you with the release you needed for so long. As soon as Bateman felt you clinging to him, he replaced his hand with his lips, kissing you hard and sucking your tongue. Moaning, you clutched at his massive shoulders, and this time you fell into the chasm of pleasure and delight.

"That's my girl, such a good little girl," he crooned from above as he broke away from your lips and finally let you breathe properly. "I'm gonna pump that delicious pussy, I want to watch my cum pour out of you!"

The things he just blurted out made your heart skip a beat and your eyes widen in shock: "Patrick… you didn't use a condom?" 

Bateman just snickered and pounded into your wet cunt with a plap."Remember—argh—r-remember you told me you wanted to have a baby?"

God, his words made you want to scream. 

"Yes," you felt a tear roll down your cheek, you couldn't believe this was really happening. "B-but you told me you weren't ready."

"I changed my mind," he tongued your earlobe briefly before cupping your face and wiping away your tear, making you look into his brown eyes. "You're so small and cute, you're going to look so beautiful with your pregnant bump."

Instinctively, you hugged his neck and pulled him closer to kiss his cheekbone, his nose, his temple, you covered his face with little pecks wherever you could as you found yourself unable to hold back your emotions.

"I love you!" Your voice almost cracked, so you tried to say it again, but he stopped you with a finger, pressing you down with his massive weight, thrusting his hips into yours with a slapping sound.

"'Yeah, I know," he gave you his perfect, full-toothed grin, kissed your forehead, and then grasped your hips, nearly painfully, to bury himself as deep as he could. "Open up for me, Bunny… let me make you a sweet Mommy."

"Yes… y-yes please!" You moaned as you felt his thrusts become ragged but sloppy.

Fuck, the way your soft walls encased his dick felt like heaven. With a guttural sound, Patrick nipped at your neck, rolled his hips and exploded right into your womb, filling it with his fertile seed and plugging it with his pulsating dick. Never in your life have you shared a more intimate moment than this, and as he lay on top of you, sniffing really hard, you ran your fingers through his messy wet hair, sobbing from being so overwhelmed as you realized that he had just planted a seed of love inside you, and soon it would grow, and your future child would be the light in the darkness for both of you, shining and making you both happy like never before.

P.S. Thank you for reading until the end! I don’t have a taglist. You can follow my side blog @makeyoumineagain and turn on notifications to know when I update!

[bellewintersroe]

Charles Leclerc x SchumacherDaughter!

Lila is the youngest of the 3 Schumacher siblings, at 22 shes catching the attention of the public eye. With the new found popularity through Drive to Survive, social media has dubbed her the next ‘it’ girl despite her constant desire for privacy. When her love interest becomes more or less the most sought after man in F1, how will she cope with being the internets fascination? Both Charles and Lila have dealt with immense amounts of loss and trauma, so their mutual understanding for one another fuels their so called ‘friendship’.

Part 2 - no warnings! Filler chapter, slow burn/ start but will start to pick up soon.

From the first time I’d met Charles I knew I’d developed feelings almost instantly. I had always been the the type of girl who caught feelings quickly. Maybe that was a recipe for disaster, wearing my heart on my sleeve, but there wasn’t a single fibre of my body that could prevent it. Not being around the boy was helpful, but the one thing that fuelled the crush even further? Social media, of course.

I had always been private online. All my accounts were locked and I’d never planned on making them public out of the pure fear of gaining too much unwanted attention. That didn’t mean I couldn’t do a stalk however…

I’d find myself laying in bed until stupid hours in the morning for the following week after the Monaco GP, scrolling mindlessly through my searches. The majority of them were amusing- I didn’t seem to worry too much about gaining a hate train online, of course the trolls were there, but keeping as far out of the public eye as possible meant I was semi protected. User: Lila Schumacher sparks relationship rumours with Mercedes driver George Russell, despite him already being in a long term relationship with Carmen Montero Mundt.

I laughed at that one and all the responses telling the reporter to shut the hell up.

User: Charles today with Mick and Lila Schumacher. User: Lila Schumacher makes a rare appearance at the Monaco GP, 28.5.23. User: Lila Schumacher is so beautiful, like her mum, why don’t we see more of her? User: can anybody else see Lila Schumacher being with one of the drivers? Shes so gorgeous I wouldn’t be surprised. ——— > User: she looked to be talking with Charles, he looked v into her so maybe? ——— > User: no not Charles surely? I was thinking she’d be more with somebody like George or Lando.

——— > User: Lila and Charles Leclerc were talking at the Monaco GP, doesn’t mean they’re together but I’d DIE if he looked at me the way he looked at Lila- that’s all I’m saying…

I exited the app after that, deciding I’d read enough, I knew it was stupid to do, but part of me couldn’t help myself. I’d always been a nosy person. So when Mick invited me to come to the Spanish GP, I accepted his offer (much to his surprise). “You’re from Spain? Which part?” I asked Carlos Sainz, whom I’d engaged in a conversation with whilst attempting to find the Ferrari garages before the qualifying. He asked if I wanted leading back to Mercedes but I was trying to find Jean Todt, my God father and dads longtime close friend, so I got a tour from Mr Sainz instead. “Madrid, have you been?”

“Oh yeah, it’s beautiful there, I’ve been a few times…” my eyes glanced up from the floor, gaze landing heavily on the other Ferrari driver now stood in front of me. My breath hitched seeing the surprised looking boy.

“Lila! Hello!” Charles exclaimed, the exact same heart flutter I felt the other week in Monaco had returned. “Hi!” For some reason I was surprised he’d remembered my name, hearing him say it made me feel certain ways. He moved forwards, giving me a quick hug as I clamped my teeth down on my bottom lip so I wouldn’t grin so harshly. “How are you?” I asked. “I am good, I’m good. And you?” Charles was pink in the cheeks, brown eyes practically sparkling in the Spanish sun. He looked like Prince Charming or something out of a fairy tail, I found him intoxicating.

“Good, thank you.” I breathlessly spoke, “you have met Carlotto?” He then grinned as I snapped my attention back up to Carlos with a slight furrow of my brows. “Carlotto?”

“Lord Perceval.” I giggled out at the name now, turning back to Charles who was staring right back to Carlos with a wide eyed expression. “Lord Perceval? Is that a nickname, or?”

“No, no, no!” Charles laughed. “That’s my.. um that’s my middle name. Perceval.” Charles explained as I felt my cheeks beating up, hearing Carlos too giggling along. “Oh!” I exclaimed. “How posh.” I shrugged as he laughed slightly back to me with an uneasy, “yeah.”

“I better go find Jean anyway, has anybody seen him?”

“Oh, Jean? He’s in that way.” Charles pointed towards three different doors. I frowned in confusion. “Charles, show her, your directions are bad.” Carlos pointed out as I giggled nervously.

“It’s okay, I’ll try find him.”

“No, no, I’ll show you.” Charles insisted as I bit back a smile. “Thanks for getting me here anyway.” I thanked Carlos. “It’s ok.” The Spanish man politely smiled. “Chiedile un appuntamento.” Carlos then spoke to Charles as I glanced away, no clue what the hell they were speaking. Italian maybe? It wasn’t French and definitely wasn’t Spanish. When I did look up, Charles was staring back at Carlos wide eyes in a manner as though to say, shut the hell up. I pretended not to notice as Carlos giggled, patting me on the upper back before I began following Charles.

“I think he should be this way. I could be wrong.” Charles stumbled forwards, turning over his shoulder as I caught up besides him. “It’s okay, I don’t need him urgently, I just wanted to say hi.” And say hello to you.

“He is your god father, right?” Charles questioned as I nodded. “Yeah, he’s my dads friend.”

“Ah.” Charles nodded, and for a brief few seconds, I felt a little awkward. I was lost for words, dwelling in my nerves that had appeared now I was semi alone with Charles.

“I think I saw you earlier.” Charles then pointed out. “Oh yeah? Where?”

“Playing tennis at the hotel, I think it was you there? You looked good- at playing tennis I mean, but you did look good as well, merde, it might not have been you.” Charles stammered as I felt myself becoming somewhat breathless again, when he was nervous I felt this warm rush of excitement run through me, but it somehow made me feel nervous too. His compliment made me laugh, realising exactly what he was talking about.

“Yeah that was me, I was playing with another girl?” I tilted my head to look at the smiling boy. I hadn’t seen his smile falter once since seeing him again, I enjoyed the way it would lift up his eyes, the dimples forming in his cheeks and the way his teeth would poke through every now and then.

“Ah, yes it was you.” Charles shyly spoke. “Yeah, I’m not very good. I just like playing.” I grabbed at my blonde hair nervously. “I play too, I am bad.” Charles laughed out. “I’m sure you’re not that bad!” He responded with an uneasy noise.

“I just think you would beat me.” The fact he had noticed me earlier this morning had made me go all red in the face, I felt all giggly and weak in the knees.

“No way, I’m really bad. Trust me, I just play for fun.” I bashfully spoke, thanking him quickly as he opened the door for me. Jean wasn’t in sight ahead of me, so it gave me a little more time with Charles which I was thankful for.

“Me too.” He grinned as I offered him a smile in response, turning to my left to see Jean not too far ahead, sitting down and mid conversation. “Oh, there he is! Thank you for showing me around, I’d be lost without you and Carlos.” I joked, pausing to stand directly across from him now. “It’s ok, it gets confusing in here.” He shrugged as I nodded, going to turn around. “It was nice to see to see you again.” He quickly spoke, causing me to halt my movements and turn up once again. There was a slight height difference between us, I only stood at 5”3, and he was nearing 6 foot, I guessed?

“Yeah you too, if you see me playing tennis again feel free to say hi.” I giggled, shrugging nervously. “I will.” Charles laughed as I timidly broke eye contact, turning to go find Jean. “Oh!” Charles exclaimed again. I turned around.

“I was- we could play tennis maybe? If you would like to?” His words made my heart literally jump and I swear he could see the way my smile tugged up. I was nodding before I even replied, borderline too stunned and shy to speak.

“As long as you let me win you.” I managed to blurt out as he laughed once again, pulling out his phone. “I can probably do that… well you could do that.” He corrected, unlocking his phone and clicking on his phone book.

“Oh.” I perked, pulling out my phone, ensuring to clear any embarrassing messages from my notifications before allowing him to type his number in. It felt like a fever dream, no man had asked for my number before, it was always Snapchat or Instagram first- it felt slightly more… personal? I liked it.

“I will text you.” Charles nodded. “Okay, see you soon, Charles.”

“Bye, Lila…”

[cacoetheswriting]

celebrity skin. (part three)

pairing: rockstar!eddie munson x popstar!fem!reader word count: 5.8k summary: eddie finds a way to distract you.

content warnings: 18+, minors dni: smut with a plot, suggestive & mature themes, adult language, oral (m receiving), unprotected p in v sex (pls wrap it before you tap it), praise kink, slight degradation, heavy use of various pet names, oblivious idiots in love, mentions of minor character death, mentions of drug consumption, a little family drama, situational anxiety — if i missed anything, pls let me know!

psa: images used in the header don’t depict readers physical attributes! these are also described vaguely in the story, only that she’s a little shorter than eddie.

celebrity skin. masterlist

From the moment you became a household name, your life was a never ending circus.

Frankly, oftentimes it didn’t even feel like your life anymore. An act of sorts, and you were closer resembling a puppet on a string than a human being. Dancing when they told you to dance, singing when they told you to sing. Smile. Wave. Act a certain way. Be polite. Wear this. Go here. 

You could probably count on one hand the number of experiences since your rise to fame that actually made you feel human and more than half of those are thanks to a certain rockstar by the name of Eddie Munson.

Although your time with Eddie had so far been extremely brief, the curly-haired rockstar made you feel things you have only ever dreamt possible.

His cute crooked smile. His perfectly brown doe-eyes. The way he said your name. How he made you laugh. His delicate touch and the way he seemed to know every pressure point your body had to offer. It was intoxicating. He was intoxicating. 

And for a measly twelve hours, he was just yours, making you feel human.

Given the way everything played out between the two of you over these last few months, foolishly, you thought you’d get to keep him a secret from the rest of the world for just a little while longer — making up for lost time, and whatnot. Unfortunately, whoever took that picture and sold it to the tabloids clearly didn’t care, and why would they? In that moment, as they snapped the photo of a private conversation, whether your relationship with Eddie was real or fake, didn’t matter. Money mattered. Money always matters more.

“It’s gonna be okay, you know?” Eddie says, steering you away from your thoughts. He glances in your direction before focusing back on the road ahead. “Nothin’ the smart people we have hired can’t figure out.”

You look at him, a sad expression on your face. “In your own words, good for your career, bad for mine.”

Eddie scrunches his nose, faking a moment of contemplation. In reality, in the last few hours alone, he’s replayed that very first conversation with you about a hundred times. He was only joking around back then, but considering the language used on the front page of that lousy paper, and every other tabloid that followed, was clearly favouring him and disapproving towards you, his point was proven. And that only made his blood boil more.

“Doesn’t sound like me, sweetheart.” He’s trying to keep things lighthearted and the slight tease almost gets you to smile. Almost.

Instead, you let out a defeated sigh and lift your feet, placing them on the edge of the passenger seat before wrapping your arms around your legs and resting your chin on your knee.

“Guess we were never supposed to do this right.”

Eddie’s heart aches at your words. He doesn't like seeing you like this. He hated it yesterday at the studio after you saw each other again, before he got a chance to apologise, but he’s hating it even more now since there’s really nothing he can do aside from finding that fucker who took the picture and beating some sense into them — which would most likely only make the situation worse.

Then there’s the fear. Eddie can feel it, creeping and waiting to take him over whole at any given moment. He’s trying to push it down, remain positive and shit, because he knows nothing good can come from giving into feeling scared. But when he catches your gaze, he’s fucking terrified. There’s a sadness behind your eyes he’s really hoping isn’t accompanied by regret.

“It’s gonna be okay,” Eddie repeats his earlier sentiment while reaching over to take your hand in his and giving it a gentle squeeze. This time, he’s also reminding himself.

A rather uncertain silence settles in the air. You stare blankly at the road ahead, thankful for the LA traffic as it lets you spend a little more alone time with the boy you so desperately like, but hating it at the same time since this could quite possibly be the last moment you share before the chaos unfolds further. That feels wrong to you.

Eddie deserves better than every other fling you had, caught crudely by the paparazzi and making headlines worldwide. Difference between this particular rockstar and the trail of dates you left behind prior to meeting him was that you actually cared. You cared about him, wishing that was enough to get you both through this mess, but unfortunately you also cared about what the general public thought of your romance. Their opinion mattered as it would most likely dictate how this would play out with your respectable labels and management teams.

The rockstar also wants to get over this hurdle. He meant what he said about doing this right and he’s nothing if not a man of his word — especially when it comes to pretty girls that effortlessly occupy his mind, his heart, and make his dick hard. You tick all those boxes and about a thousand more.

“Hey,” you tilt your head to look at him. He meets your gaze and raises a brow, urging you to continue. “Is there somewhere we could go before meeting Marianne at the studio?”

“Anywhere, baby.”

“Someplace private. I think I need to feel normal for a little while longer before we’re met with our fate.”

Eddie chuckles at your dramatic choice of words, heart growing fonder ‘cause it seems he’s met his match. “Like Michael Corleone.”

You furrow your brows. “Who?”

He gasps, sporting a shocked expression. “The Godfather?”

“Never seen it.”

“Oh, baby, you wound me.”

You finally smile and Eddie swears his heart is going to burst. Yeah, he’s certain now he’s too far gone to let anyone ruin whatever this was shaping up to be. His whole life consisted of sticking it to the man and he wasn’t about to stop any time soon, especially since his first chance at real happiness was at stake.

-

“Eddie, I don’t think a record store is exactly private.”

He huffs out a laugh and without saying anything, jumps out of the car. Feeling a little unnerved, you remain in your seat, following him instead with your gaze until he’s at the passengers side and opening the door for you, like the gentleman you were beginning to learn he was.

“Don’t worry, sweets. It’s safe,” Eddie reassures as he reaches out a hand for you to take, “I promise.”

You exhale and nod. “Okay.”

So he helps you out of the car, kicking the door shut before throwing one arm around your shoulder and guiding you towards the entrance of the shop. From the outside, it looks like every average record store. You’ve been to enough of them in New York, back when no one recognised you, sifting through the albums for hours on end, in search of inspiration.

“How do you know it’s safe?” You ponder out loud, scanning the poster-covered window. At first glance, it seems he’s correct. There doesn’t seem to be anyone inside and you’re proven correct when Eddie retrieves a set of keys.

“‘Cause I own it.”

Seems as simple as that and it’s because of the nonchalant tone to his voice, you’re slightly taken aback. Though you don’t get to ask any specifics. He’s opening the door and his arm moves from your shoulders to your back, pushing you gently forward, as he continues.

“Welcome to the unofficial Corroded Coffin record store.”

A smile threatens to breach your lips as your eyes dart across the space. The first word that comes to mind is messy. There are boxes of records in every possible corner of the room. Completely unorganised as the apparent ‘Rock’ section features vinyls by Louis Armstrong, and where the ‘Blues’ sign is dangling loosely, threatening to fall at any given moment, Madonna makes an appearance. There’s multiple stacks of discs that were most likely no longer going to play like they used to and every centimetre of the wall is covered in posters that have faded with time.

Eddie locks the door behind the two of you then proceeds to pull down any blinds that allow any passersby to take a peep inside. He flicks on the light which flickers for a moment before turning on and it’s then you turn to face him, taking in the proud grin spread across his features.

“What do you think?” He asks.

“How come you own a seemingly abandoned record store?” You counter, unsure of what you actually think ‘cause even though the place has a certain charm, there’s something about it that seems almost haunting.

Eddie smiles faintly. He looks down at the stacks of vinyls and drags his fingers across the dusty shelf, then wiping them on the denim of his ripped jeans. He sighs, eventually looking back up at you.

“The very first song we taped, we did so in Jeff’s garage back in Hawkins and used a ridiculously old recorder so the sound was beyond shit. We really just needed somethin’ to play quickly for the club owners we wanted to hit up once we came to LA, convince ‘em to let us perform even on the worst slot available.”

Eddie walks past you and sits up on the counter that once served as the till. He fidgets with the scattered items around him as you watch him, already enticed by the story. Thinking also how different of a start you two had in the music industry.

“Obviously because we sounded so shit on that pesky little tape, no one wanted to work with us so we all decided to get different part-time jobs, save up some cash for a session at an actual studio. I ended up working in this wonderful little shop.” Eddie smiles at the memory and you can’t help but mimic his fond expression. “The owner was this older gentleman, Mr. Foley. He used to be a music teacher and when he retired, he used all the savings he had to buy this place. I was the only other person that worked here and ‘cause of the slow decline in vinyl sales, we used to just spend the days talking.”

Slowly, you cross the room and stop to the side of Eddie’s frame, brushing up against his leg. He glances at you then, brown eyes catching yours, and your heart flips inside of your chest.

“I don’t wanna bore you with all the details, sweetheart.”

“You’re not.”

Eddie smiles at you then continues, “So I told Mr. Foley, how I was in a band and what we were trying to do. He asked for the tape which at that point remained untouched in the glove compartment of my old van. The next day, when I came in for my shift, he had the tape playing and every time the song ended, Mr. Foley would rewind it and play it again.”

He pauses briefly, gaze shifting to your hand as he reaches for it, fingers grazing against your skin with such tenderness, you swear you’re going to melt. 

“You know, I never really did believe in luck,” he half-smirks, still looking at your hand and how every crease in your skin perfectly aligns with his own. “I started that day ‘cause about thirteen plays later, the shop door opened and in walked Marianne in all her badass glory. The rest, I guess, is history.”

His smile falters. “Mr. Foley passed a day before our debut album came out. He had no living family, but that didn’t stop my surprise when his lawyer called to say this place was now mine. Mr. Foley apparently amended his will two months before he died, making it very clear the store and everything inside was for ‘that good kid, Edward Munson’ with a note that said I don't have to keep it open, just clean it every so often and make sure any property taxes are paid on time.”

Silence falls upon you. Eddie’s squeezing your hand, only now his doe-eyes are back to staring deeply into yours. It’s a moment that feels surreal. A moment that makes you feel human, just like you wanted. And judging by the look in his eyes, the rockstar feels exactly the same way.

“That’s… Shit, I don’t know what to say.”

Eddie doesn’t seem to mind though. He tugs at your arm, pulling you closer in his direction and spreading his legs wider apart so that you could slide in between them. His hands move to each side of your neck, pinkies brushing along your jawline, as you wrap your own arms behind his back, palms spreading across the leather of his jacket.

“You’re the only person I’ve ever brought here,” he states in a tone dangerously close to a murmur.

“Well, I’m honoured.”

He’s smiling again, only this time it’s different. The curl of his lips, the dips in his cheeks, the glimmer in his eyes, all reminiscent of the cockiness he displayed the first night you met. And the longer he smiles at you like that, the more you think back to the moment in his bathroom, causing your stomach to flutter and heat rush to your face as well as the space between your legs.

You quiver against him and he bites down on his bottom lip as his smile grows. He seriously feels like the luckiest son of a bitch on the planet and all he’s doing is looking at you. It’s insane to him, how a little privacy and that picture-perfect beam you’re currently sporting, makes all the problems of the real world seem fucking unimportant. Left behind on the other side door of the record store you two were currently hiding in. 

Obviously that couldn’t have been further from the truth, but right at this moment, Eddie didn’t care about the stupid tabloids or the gossip. He didn’t care about the reaction of the general public or your management team. He didn’t care that there was a chance the two of you would be told to end things before they develop further. He didn’t care about anything but the girl that stood in front of him.

So Eddie’s dipping his head lower and capturing your lips between his. The kiss is tentative and sweet, different from any kisses you’ve shared before and you’re softening under his touch with every passing second. His moves are calculated, deliberate, until he can’t contain himself any longer and the kiss is no longer tender. 

Your hands are in his hair as he’s jumping off the counter without breaking contact. He’s pulling you flush towards him by your neck since close was apparently not close enough and you can feel your nipples hardening against his chest as he grazes his blunt nails against your skin, heads tilting side to side with nothing but hunger.

“There’s a couch in the back,” Eddie whispers in between kisses.

A quiet chuckle escapes your lips. “Do you really wanna have sex on your dead boss's sofa?”

But he just shrugs. “I’ve done it in places much, much worse than that, sweets.” A sentence that earns him an eye roll from you. “Plus, not really keen on goin’ to the studio with a fucking hard-on.”

And before you get a chance to respond, he’s spinning you around. One arm trapping you against him, ass to crotch so that you can feel his growing erection. He smirks when you moan faintly at the sudden contact, mouth now at your ear where he whispers harshly how he can’t wait to fuck you so hard you’ll never forget about him. 

“My pretty girl,” he coos, leading you down the corridor, other hand on your waist, desperately tugging at your clothes. “Been thinkin’ nonstop about sticking my dick inside that delicate pussy.”

“I’m already sure I could never forget about you,” you whisper, relating back to his earlier point ‘cause you needed him to know that no matter what happens, you’re completely and undoubtedly his.

Eddie groans at your words, cock twitching in the prison that are his pants and boxers. He trails sloppy kisses along your jawline, tilting your head backwards so that he can catch your mouth in a desperate kiss. It’s heated and given your current position, rather sloppy — which only makes you squirm more. So with your eyes closed, lost in the pleasure that is his tongue dancing with yours, you stumble over your feet, trusting he can lead you to the couch in one piece.

“Fuck,” Eddie’s breathless already. He lets go of you for a split-second, only to remove his leather jacket and give you enough time to also take off your own, tossing it to the side, where he just discarded his.

Rotating in your spot, so that you were facing him once again, you offer the rockstar a mischievous smirk and drop to your knees without warning. Eddie doesn’t have time to react as you work to undo his belt buckle and then the zipper of his jeans. You only look up at him with your not-so-innocent eyes when you pull his pants down, along with his boxers, freeing his fully erect cock.

He groans, all throaty and deep, when you wrap your fingers around his base. In the same moment, you’re leaning forward and Eddie’s hands fly to the back of your head as you run your tongue around the rim of his throbbing manhood before wrapping your lips completely around it.

“Jesus Christ,” he swears when you start to suck, cheeks hollowed. You begin to bop your head, taking him deeper and deeper until his entire length is in your mouth, hitting the back of your throat. And when his grip on you tightens, cock twitching in your mouth, you quicken your pace and suck harder, wanting to devour him completely.

“Shit. Baby, I—”

Eddie feels like he’s floating. Huffing, puffing, and moaning your name like a prayer as his hips start to thrust, meeting your mouth a little too eagerly, making you gag and your eyes water. He hits the back of your throat several times, revelling in the control he so easily acquired, and you’re completely breathless, soaked between the thighs ‘cause you love the dominance he emits.

His groans are getting louder, the sound music to your ears. He pumps into you forcefully till it’s a struggle to keep up, and just when you swear you can’t take anymore, he pulls out without warning. A ring-clad hand is on your throat and he’s urging you to get back on your feet, which you do without question. 

His lips are on yours in a flash, free hand making its way between your short skirt, tugging at your panties until they fall to the ground beneath. Then Eddie tumbles backwards, eagerly pulling you along as his tongue further explores your mouth. He only breaks the kiss when his calves hit the edge of the sofa. 

“Shit, I-I don’t have any condoms on me.” Eddie mutters.

“I’m on the pill now,” you say then add, “Clean and tested too.”

“Same, otherwise I wouldn't have let you—”

“Shut up,” you whisper against his lips, pecking them softly as your hands rest flat against his chest. You push him ever so slightly and Eddie drops to the couch with a thud. But he doesn’t bother making himself comfortable. Instead, he’s reaching for you again, fingers wrapped around your wrist as you straddle him, your aching cunt now hovering over his throbbing cock.

You contemplate teasing him a little, rubbing your slit along his tip until he’s the one begging to be fucked. But Eddie doesn’t give you the chance. He’s shoving himself inside your impressively wet pussy and all you can do is exhale in pleasure, matching in tone Eddie’s visceral groan.

His eyes roll to the back of his head when he feels your cunt closing in around his dick as he slides back out, then again when he pushes back in nice and slow.

“God, baby, you take my dick so well.” Eddie grumbles, continuing to insert and remove the full length of his shaft from your glistening cunt, “It’s like you were made for me.”

And the look in your eyes tells him you agree — you were made for him, you’re sure of it. No one’s ever made you feel the way he does and no one ever will. The squelching between your thighs, where his cock met your cunt, is proof enough so you rock backwards, arching your spine, and put your hands on his outstretched legs.

“Oh shit, sweets.” Eddie breathes as you start rocking your hips, feeling his head hit that spot deep inside of you. “God, that feels so good. Don’t stop.”

You increase your speed, rotating on his member forward and backward, forward and backward, getting faster and faster and faster. He’s panting underneath you, hands on your chest, squeezing and kneading your breasts through the fabric of your designer tank top, and you’re whining, the wonderful sensation of being filled up completely doing everything to overwhelm you. 

“Mhm, you fill me up so good,” you moan pathetically, grinding against his pelvis until you reach a speed you can no longer sustain without getting completely winded.

Then in the space of a heartbeat, you start to move up and down, and Eddie watches you with nothing but lust in his eyes. America’s favourite starlet hopping on his dick, moaning breathlessly. It causes euphoric waves of pleasure to contract inside of him in the form of pre-orgasmic ecstasy. “Fucking— Christ.” 

He’s quick with his hands, pulling the garment over your head with ease and hosting himself up so that his lips are at your collarbone. He’s licking and biting along the sensitive skin, hands mounding the supple skin of your breasts, rings cold against your sensitive nipples. Your own hands were on his chest, using the leverage to put more pressure on your downward movements.

“Can my pretty girl go faster?” Eddie asks in a mocking tone, face now inches from yours. “Can my baby fuck me harder or do you want me to bend you over this fucking couch and show you how it’s fucking done?” He spits harshly, pulling your bottom lip between his teeth, then letting it go just as quick.

Your moans turn into cries of pleasure as you obey his request, bouncing hard upon him. He throws his head backwards, breathing heavily, eyes closed. He focuses on the feeling of your cunt clenching around his hard rod. Pussy contracting around his cock again and again and again. 

"Eddie, fuck!” You’re almost screaming now, arching your back as your insides start to burn, orgasm building in your chest and moving downward to your connection point. “I’m so fucking close— Jesus Christ.”

You bounce, burying his length entirely in your tight hole and grind against his pelvis one last time, his name sputtering from your lips as your orgasm hits. And while you ride that high, body jerking against him, Eddie forces you to collapse on his chest. His arms hold you steady as he picks up where you left off, thrusting deep into your aching cunt, chasing his own release.

“Shit, baby. That was so fucking hot,” he’s groaning in your ear. His moves are relentless and you feel like a ragdoll in the confines of his strained embrace. His cock, completely covered in your juices, is dipping in and out of you with such force, you swear he’s going to break through that wall he’s hitting at each thrust.

“I’m gonna cum deep inside of you, shit.”

“Please. Yes. Please, Eddie, please.”

The quiet begging is apparently all he needs ‘cause seconds later he’s spurting hot cum inside your cunt and you shudder at the feeling. His chest heaving, heart beating in tandem with yours, as he empties himself completely. “Fuck, baby.”

Finding comfort in the crook of the rockstars neck, you lay in his embrace for a moment longer, mind completely numb from reality. The liquid pours from your pussy as Eddie eventually lets his arms fall, though not completely. His fingers gently trace along your bare spine as you both catch your breaths.

It’s serene, even considering the nastiness of what the two of you just did. You find yourself wishing you could stay like this forever, lost in the wonderland that Eddie makes you experience simply by his proximity. Then you find yourself thinking how what you feel towards the curly-haired man underneath you is a lot stronger than anything you’ve ever experienced and perhaps, even though you still knew very little about him, you were falling in love— no, no.

Impossible. Too soon.

Thankfully, Eddie breaks you away from your thoughts.

“If they tell us not to see each other and we have to sneak around just to be able to do this, I think it’s worth every second,” he says eventually.

You huff out a laugh, sitting up slowly. “Way to ruin the moment,” you tease and lift yourself off him before fixing your tank top back over your now very tender breasts.

“So you don’t wanna sneak around with me like a couple of high schoolers?” He asks as he watches you bend over to grab your panties, ass seeping out of your skirt in the process. He licks his lips at the sight before continuing, “There’s a thrill that comes with the chase, the secrecy, don’t you think?”

“What happened to doin’ this right?” You ponder with a smirk.

Eddie chuckles. “Well, I think you were right,” he says and you raise a brow, wanting him to elaborate, “We were never supposed to do this right.”

And although he says it in a lighthearted tone, clearly not meaning anything by it, not more than a silly joke anyway, the reality of his words crumbles on top of you like a ton of bricks. The weight is crushing, suffocating, and suddenly you’re hyper aware of your surroundings, remembering the events from this morning and the shitty article in the paper that outed you two.

You swallow, the smile on your face shifting from a real one to a fake. 

“Is there a bathroom here? I wanna go clean up.”

Eddie notices the change in your demeanour but chooses not to say anything about it, thinking if you wanted to talk, you would have countered his statement. So he tells you instead where the bathroom is located and watches you leave.

Exhaling, he stands. He reaches for his clothes and puts his boxers back on before pulling his pants up over them, buckling his belt. The thin walls separating the office and the bathroom allow him to eavesdrop. He’s not sure what he’s thinking he’ll hear. He’s afraid it’ll be crying ‘cause that might mean you regretted everything — and there goes that fear again, creeping up on him. But it’s just silence, only the flush of the toilet and the running water from the tap.

He can hear the door open and close, but when minutes pass and you don’t return, Eddie takes both of your jackets and goes searching for where you might’ve disappeared to. It’s not like you’re hard to find, standing in the middle of the corridor, staring at the photos on the wall.

Eddie’s tentative in his approach, slightly afraid of startling you. But you register his presence instantly, tilting your head in his direction and catching his brown eyes with your own.

“Who’s this?” You ask, full of curiosity, motioning towards one of the pictures. 

He stops next to you, gaze flickering in the direction of the photo in question and you watch as a smile breaches his lips.

“That’s Red,” he answers as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“That means as much to me as Michael Corleone.”

Eddie snorts at your comment, although his eyes remain glued to the picture frame. The photo features him in a Hellfire t-shirt that now resides at the bottom of his over-sized wardrobe and he’s pulling up his pants with one hand while the other is behind Max, fingers in the shape of bunny ears she clearly knew he was doing as her face is an unimpressed frown, ams across her chest.

It was taken moments before him and the guys left Hawkins.

“Max. She’s my kid sister,” Eddie explains and your mouth parts in shock. He looks back at you, taking note of the surprise. “Not by blood or anything. But she lived in the trailer park I grew up in and we’ve been through a lot together so yeah, kinda adopted her as a sibling I never actually had.”

His eyes glistened as he looked at you, a little shy around the edges which is an emotion you haven’t seen on Eddie before. It made the brooding rockstar seem a little more approachable, lovable. That, plus the fact in the space of approximately two hours he’s opened up to you twice. Honestly speaking of his past as if he was desperate for you to know the kinder side of his soul.

And you’d never admit how you knew it already. How you spent most evenings reminding yourself of the stories he told you that night in August and how your heart grew three inches with every secret spilled. You’d never admit that it’s this side you prefer as it makes him more amiable, ‘cause that would mean you were indeed head over heels infatuated with him, which shouldn’t be possible after such a short period of time together. Right?

Considering also how you’ve never told him anything too personal. Keeping your cards a little too close to your chest. You couldn’t be falling for someone that knew nothing about you aside from the shit he dead in the paper. Right?

Eddie can see in your eyes, thoughts running wild. He wants to ask what’s on your mind, but bites the inside of his cheek, thinking yet again how if he really wanted to do this right, he had to let you open up on your own terms. So instead, he glances back at the picture and takes the frame off the wall.

“She actually lives in New York,” he says.

“Oh yeah? What’s she doing there?” You ask, eyes following to where his are fixed on the young girl.

“Smart cookie, studying at NYU to become a psychiatrist.” He beams proudly and your heart soares inside of your chest ‘cause you can feel the happiness radiating off of him, making you feel warm.

“Well, I hope she's actually studying 'cause otherwise I'm payin' her tuition and rent for nothin'.”

“I should ask Val if she knows her.”

It’s Eddie’s turn to be surprised. His head snaps in your direction and you can feel his doe-eyes scanning the side of your face, waiting for you to continue ‘cause who the fuck was Val, and shit, if she knew Red then that meant your lives were already intertwined more than either of you realised.

When you finally turn to him, after what felt like a minute of racking silence, a smile is present on your lips.

“Valentine, my younger sister. She would be around the same age as… Red, right? I’m guessing she prefers Red if that’s what you called her.”

“Yeah. Red,” he affirms, brows strung together, “You have a sister?”

“Several, actually. And one brother who’s often mistaken for my kid given our twenty year age gap. A headache for my PR team, but the light of my life. As is Val. Me and her are the closest.” 

Eddie’s grinning now and you wanna ask him what’s gotten into him, but his elbow knocks into your own as if he was imploring you to continue. So you do.

“Big Corroded Coffin fan, that one. Don’t tell her I told you. She likes to act nonchalant about me being this star and hanging around other stars, so if she ever met you, she’d pretend she didn’t know who you were.”

“Kinda like you did,” Eddie teases.

You smirk. “I swear I didn’t know who you were.”

The rockstar rolls his eyes. “Hard to believe considering you were at my party and apparently your sister is a big fan.” He stands straight, all cocky and cavalier. “You seriously mean to tell me you’ve never heard my music?”

You gently push him back and wanting to act as coy as possible, you brush past him, heading in the direction of the front door. “Having listened to your songs and knowing who you are, well, those are two different things, hot shot.” You call behind you.

Eddie laughs. He hurries after you, swinging one arm around your shoulders and pressing a delicate kiss to your crown.

“Agree to disagree,” he whispers, flicking the lights off with one finger and leading you outside, into the sweaty Los Angeles heat.

After making sure the record store is locked, he helps you into the car before jumping behind the wheel. He throws the picture frame he took from inside into the glove compartment and starts the car.

“I don’t know about you, but I’m starvin’.” He exhales dramatically and you chuckle, “How about I take you on our second date? There’s a diner not far from here. I used to go there every damn day before all the fame and fortune. Now I like to stop by sporadically, mainly when I’m high ‘cause I swear they make the best burger in town and the owner lets me eat in the kitchen, away from the prying eyes of other customers.”

“How can I say no to a chef’s table?”

“How can you say no to me, sweets?”

You shrug. “I can’t.”

And Eddie’s smile grows wider. He tries to hide the satisfaction seeping through him right now, the pure unfiltered bliss. Tries and fails. Though at that point you’re both too far gone to care.

-

When the two of you finally make it to the studio, hours later than initially planned, the peace of mind fades into nothing, faster than either of you anticipated it would. Not because you’re forced to face reality and the situation at hand. No, because over burgers and milkshakes, you mutually decided you would stand up to your teams if they threatened to break this apart.

“They can’t end something that is bound to make ‘em money,” Eddie reasoned. “And baby, we’re making a song together. That’s millions, especially if we’re spotted together a few more times. Then there’s the music video. I can kiss you on camera, you’re talkin’ another couple grand right in the pocket of the people in charge.”

It was sound logic.

Unfortunately, you failed to account for the one person who wasn’t making money in this situation, but still had very much to say when it came to your image and “pristine” reputation.

A person forgotten by you until Eddie opened the door to the recording room.

Sitting, rather comfortably at that, on the single item of lounge furniture, was your Nana. She’s talking with Marianne who, judging by her posture and expression, is doing everything she can to impress your grandmother. 

You’re in half-a-mind to tell her it’s not worth the hassle, but you find yourself completely frozen. Unable to move or speak. Mainly because you were hating yourself for letting her slip your mind.

The thud of the door closing causes the two ladies to pause and turn to where you stood with Eddie. Marianne is immediately on her feet, shortly followed by your Nana who at first smiles, but when she notices the rockstar’s hold on your waist, her expression changes to one of disappointment, if not anger.

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