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ellemj · 2 months

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Look At Me

Bucky Barnes x Female Reader One-Shot: SMUT

Request by @daddy-bucky: one bed trope "with a bit (LOTS & LOTS) of breeding kink."

Summary: Bucky gets exposed to a chemical compound that heightens his already above-average sense of smell. Then he's stuck sharing a bed with the girl he's nearly fucked on more than one occasion.

Warnings: profanity, dubcon (noncon? if you look too close?), slight thigh fucking, unprotected sex, somnophilia, heavy breeding kink, MINORS DNI, 18+!!!

Word Count: 7.5k

A/N: This one took me a few days because I got a bit of writer's block around the time the smut started. Thanks to @daddy-bucky for this unhinged request, specifically for the part where you requested that he be feral, apologizing but can't stop himself, and for mentioning that he can smell her ovulating. You are unhinged and I love it.

There are worse things than a mission going sideways. There are worse things than being stuck in a safehouse overnight. There are even worse things than being hunted down by a few thugs from a HYDRA offshoot. But you’re sure that there isn’t anything worse than being shut in with a man that you’ve nearly slept with on more than one occasion.

You stand in front of the bathroom mirror, splashing cold water on your face as you try to come up with a way to make it through the night. You’re a four-hour drive away from the compound, and a five-hour drive away from the nearest SHIELD base. The safest option you had was to head to the closest safehouse and tuck in until morning, with a handful of modern-day HYDRA operatives hot on your heels. You start toweling your face dry and running through all of the mistakes that were made today.

The first mistake was believing that the intel you received about the new HYDRA facility was accurate, without doing the recon yourself. You were told that the facility is empty three days a week, only in operation from Monday through Thursday. That’s why you and Bucky staged your break-in for today, a Friday. Your second mistake was letting Bucky follow you into the lab, instead of having him stay at the door and keep watch. You don’t know what possessed him to take his own look around, to start reading the labels on the various vials located in glass refrigeration units and on benchtops throughout the room. Your third mistake was tucking your gun into your thigh holster while you searched through the lab’s computer, looking for the identification number of one specific compound that you were sent to retrieve. If you hadn’t holstered your gun, you wouldn’t have been caught off guard when a night guard came bursting through the door, pointing his weapon right between your eyes. If you hadn’t holstered your gun, you would’ve been able to shoot the guy yourself. Bucky wouldn’t have shoved you hard enough to send you crashing into one of the little glass refrigeration units in an attempt to get you out of the line of fire, before killing the guy himself. The shot leaving Bucky’s gun didn’t even register in your mind as you watched the glass door shatter and the vials inside shake around on the shelves. As you steadied yourself and shot Bucky an annoyed look, you didn’t notice the vial full of pale pink liquid was the only one that had broken and spilled.

“Are you okay?” Bucky asked gruffly, grabbing you by the forearm and pulling you away from the broken glass. You nodded quickly, feeling perfectly fine after being seconds away from having either a bullet in your head or shards of glass in your skin.

“I’m fine, just help me find the vial labeled 012-6A, so we can get out of here.” You double-checked the ID number on the computer screen one last time as Bucky stepped around you and began rifling through the refrigeration unit that you’d just been shoved into.

Bucky wouldn’t have known that he inhaled enough manganese to cause hyperosmia. He noticed the pink liquid spread over the surface of one of the shelves as he stepped in close and read over the various labels on the vials that were still intact, but he assumed you’d already seen the spill and since you didn’t mention it, it must not have been a big deal. In truth, even if you’d seen it and been able to properly identify it as a manganese compound, you would’ve written it off as being a minor incident. You’d have to be continuously exposed to it, inhaling large quantities of it over time to really be in any sort of major danger. A little sniff in a lab accident wouldn’t send either one of you to the hospital.

However, one of the known side effects of inhaling manganese is significantly increased olfactory perception, or to put it plainly: a heightened sense of smell. You might be able to smell the cleaners used on the lab floors or the wet dirt stuck in the treads of your tactical boots, if you’d inhaled the manganese. But Bucky, already having a heightened sense of smell from the super soldier serum coursing through his veins, would soon be able to smell everything.

After finding vial 012-6A, the two of you were tailed from the moment you left the compound until Bucky started weaving in and out of traffic, doing everything he could to shake the tail. You notified Fury and Sam of the situation and within minutes, you had an address to a safehouse and were on your way.

Bucky carefully folds out the couch bed, watching the thin mattress unfurl before him. It might just be the most uncomfortable looking bed he’s ever seen, but it’s not like he ever sleeps much anyway. You, however, are in for a rough night. Before you went to shower, you found a set of sheets and a quilt tucked away in a closet and set them out. Bucky begins making the bed but something isn’t quite right. As he lays the flat sheet over the fitted one and begins tucking the corners at the foot of the mattress, he starts to wonder why the he can smell the metal springs beneath. The metallic scent is strong, as if he’s pressed his nose right against the springs and inhaled as hard as he could. He stands up straight and sniffs the air, instantly overwhelmed by the plethora of smells circulating in the air. What the hell is going on?

When you emerge from the bathroom a moment later, you find Bucky standing in the middle of the tiny house, running a hand through his hair and looking a bit bewildered.

“Bucky?” You call his name softly, slowly crossing the room and eyeing the bed that he’s made up for you both. He keeps his gaze trained on the floor, not even acknowledging your presence. “Bucky, what’s going on?” You try again.

“Everything smells really strong.” He answers dryly, still not looking up at you. You narrow your eyes at him and start scanning his features, looking for any clues as to what might be going on.

“What do you mean? Don’t things always smell really strong to you?”

“Not like this, this is…I can smell your shampoo.” He says. His blue eyes flit up, meeting your gaze and holding it.

“What did you touch in the lab?” You ask suddenly, already leaping into action. You sit on the side of the couch bed and reach for your bag that sits on the floor, dragging it over to your feet. You rummage around for your laptop, fishing it out as soon as it hits your fingertips.

“I didn’t touch anything.” Bucky promises, shaking his head. He takes a couple of steps back, away from the bed, as if he can’t stand the smell of your shampoo or whatever else he smells on you. You begin typing quickly, working to open a secure video call line to Bruce Banner. “There was a spill, in that fridge I pushed you into.” He remembers, recalling the liquid that was spread over the shelf.

“Did you breathe it in?” You cast him a glance over your shoulder as you sit and wait for Bruce to join the video call.

“No, I mean, I don’t know. There wasn’t an odor, it didn’t feel like I breathed anything in.”

“What color was it?” You ask, already narrowing down the list of chemicals in your head based on the fact that it was odorless.

“Pink, clear.” Bucky answers. He’s rubbing the back of his neck as you wrack your brain. Pink, clear, odorless, hyperosmia-inducing. You have a theory, but you need Bruce to confirm. Your shoulders relax as your mind begins to realize that the chances of the chemical having been life-threatening are very low. There aren’t very many chemicals out there that are known to cause hyperosmia, and the ones that do are really only dangerous in large amounts. Bruce’s face appears on your laptop screen and relief washes over you.

“Hey, I have a few questions for you.” You say kindly, smiling at the scientist that you’ve grown familiar with. Bruce smiles back at you and Bucky catches himself narrowing his eyes and wondering how close the two of you actually are.

“Shoot.”

“There was a spill in the lab, Bucky may have inhaled something odorless, a pink aqueous solution. It’s causing hyperosmia, he says he can smell my shampoo from across the room.”

“More than his usual hyperosmia?” Bruce questions thoughtfully.

“Yes.” You and Bucky both respond in unison. You look over your shoulder at him again and notice how uneasy he looks, how he’s being sure to keep his distance from you. “I’m thinking it’s some sort of manganese compound.” You guess, turning your attention back to Bruce.

“You’re probably right. Just be on the lookout for any symptoms that would suggest otherwise, but if it was a small spill and he only inhaled a minimal amount of vapor from it, I wouldn’t be too concerned. The only worry I would have would be not knowing how manganese might react with the serum, but I can do some research on it and let you know what I find.” Bruce pushes his glasses further up the bridge of his nose and crosses his arms over his chest.

“That’s what I was thinking. We’ll let you know if anything else develops, just send me whatever you find.” After a few more exchanges between the two of you, you end the call and shove your laptop back into your bag. Bucky remains across the room, watching you carefully, like he’s afraid to get too close.

What you don’t know, is that Bucky can’t just smell your shampoo. He can smell you. Your hair, your skin, your everything. You leave him be and head to the tiny kitchen connected to the living room, in search of a glass of water. Bucky inhales deeply through his mouth, trying to avoid smelling anything, but your scent lingers in the air and it’s suffocating. He’s going to have to sleep in the car just to get away from it.

---

“Bucky, you’re not sleeping in the damn car and neither am I. There’s a reason we’re stuck in this safehouse, we’re staying put.” Your tone is stern as you stand blocking the door. Bucky sighs heavily. He knows he could easily move you out of his way, but he also knows he’s treading dangerous waters already. The two of you have always had an indescribable tension, a palpable energy between you. One drunken night a month ago, you nearly fucked. You were drunk, he wasn’t, but he might as well have been with the way he lost his self-control when you leaned into him and rested your hands against his abs. The heated makeout session that ensued was electric, with your back pushed up against a wall in whatever bar the team had been hanging out in that night. The only reason you didn’t go through with it was because the grating sound of John Walker’s voice echoed down the dimly lit back hall right before he turned the corner and saw you pushing Bucky away. Only a week after that, Bucky caught you staring him down in the gym, clearly enjoying the sight of him shirtless and sweating as he threw punches at the bag. An hour later he had your lips against his in the elevator, desperately kissing and licking as much of the skin of your jaw and neck as he could before the elevator reached the main living floor. He would’ve taken you right there if the elevator was any slower. The third and final time was a week and a half ago, when, during an undercover mission, you both seemed to have trouble keeping your hands off of each other. Your covers gave you an excuse to be a little handsy, but continuing to be handsy the entire drive back to the compound wasn’t quite so excused. You were so distracted that you didn’t notice the car following you, not until Redwing picked up on it and Sam alerted you both. That was the night you both decided to stop whatever it was that was going on between you. It was dangerous and addictive and it only served as a distraction in the field. So, you stopped it before it ever truly began.

Bucky moves around to the opposite side of the bed, shooting you a moody look before tugging his shirt off and baring his chest. Your eyes drift down to the dog tags that hang around his neck as he starts pushing his pants down his legs. Suddenly he’s standing there wearing nothing but boxers and dog tags, and your mouth is damn near watering.

“You’re sleeping in that?” You ask incredulously, gesturing at his distinct lack of clothing. Bucky chuckles and pulls the sheet and quilt back, sliding under the covers with ease. The thin mattress curves down to support his weight and the springs creak loudly.

“You’re sleeping in that, so you can’t complain.” He mimics your gesture as he refers to your oversized t-shirt and lack of pants. It isn’t your fault. You didn’t have much in your bag, this was never supposed to be an overnight trip. You sigh as you sit on your own side of the bed, turning your back to Bucky. He turns off the lamp beside the couch and the room is cast into darkness.

While you’re sitting on the side of the bed, reminding yourself why the two of you decided to leave each other alone, Bucky’s lying on his back, breathing through his mouth. He can still smell you. The vanilla scent of your shampoo makes him want to bury his face in your hair and inhale as deeply as he possibly can, it smells so fucking sweet.

An hour later, you’re sound asleep next to Bucky, with your back facing him and the sound of your soft, steady breathing filling the quiet space. Every single minute that’s gone by since you slid under the covers next to him has be spent actively trying to ignore the smells in the air. First, all he really noticed was your shampoo. After fifteen minutes of lying next to you, he could smell the lotion you put on your legs that morning. Ten minutes later, he was ready to bust down the damn door to get to the car. He could smell you. Something so distinctive, something that was sending his entire body into overdrive with every breath he inhaled.

Now Bucky lies there, clenching his jaw and covering his face with both hands in an attempt to stifle the scent that he’s trying to pretend isn’t there. He’d have already gotten out of the bed and locked himself in the bathroom, the closet, or even a fucking kitchen cupboard if the bed springs weren’t so damn loud. He can’t make a move that big without waking you up, so he remains frozen. It’s not until Bucky hears you whimper in your sleep that he pulls his hands away from his face and turns his head to look in your direction. Though the scent of your unconscious arousal is affecting him so strongly, the sound you made momentarily redirects some of the bloodflow away from his cock, toward his head. The tone to your whimper was fearful. It escapes your lips again and Bucky watches as you begin to shake beside him. Fuck. Of course you have nightmares. You’re so similar in so many other ways, he should’ve assumed you were plagued the same way that he is.

As your eyes dart back and forth rapidly beneath your closed eyelids, your breathing quickens more and more until your body begins to feel deprived of oxygen. That’s when you wake up, gasping for air, in full fight-or-flight mode. You’re on your side, grasping the quilt in your left hand and desperately searching the darkness around you for anything familiar.

Without thinking, Bucky rolls onto his side and slides his vibranium hand over your hip. Though he can’t feel it, your shirt has ridden up above your thighs and his hand lands partially on the waistband of your panties and partially on your skin. You tense at his touch initially, still trying to figure out where the hell you are, but that touch is something familiar. Your mind latches onto it, and suddenly you’re remembering the last three times you felt it. Vibranium against your skin, his lips on yours, every nerve ending in your body firing at the same time. It’s familiar, so familiar that you relax after a couple of seconds and lean back. Your back brushes against his chest and his grip on your hip tightens a barely noticeable amount as he realizes you’re moving. He doesn’t want you to move back too far and find out that he has a full-blown erection while you’re recovering from a nightmare, but he also doesn’t want to stop you from finding comfort.

“You’re safe.” He whispers close to your ear, taking in the scent of your shampoo once again. His eyes close as the vanilla temporarily covers up the smell that’s been driving him insane for the past hour. “We’re in a safehouse.” He assures you. Your breathing begins to slow and your shaking limbs calm as you move your left hand. You release your grip on the sheets and slide it beneath the covers, running your palm over the crevices of his vibranium hand. So familiar.

“I’m sorry I woke you.” You apologize softly, taking in a shaky breath and flattening your hand over his metal one.

“I wasn’t asleep.” Though you know how he operates in the field, how he likes to be kissed, how infuriating he can be when he insists on doing things his way, you don’t know much about his sleeping habits…or lack thereof. Suddenly, the evening’s mission comes flooding back into your mind. You remember him being exposed to something and experiencing hyperosmia, with you and Bruce only being able to speculate about the chemical he inhaled. You make a move to look over your shoulder at him and when you do, your body almost enough to let your ass make contact with his crotch. He squeezes your hip so hard that you almost peel his vibranium fingers off of you.

“Shit, Bucky.” You speak through clenched teeth as he holds you firmly in place against the mattress. “What are you—”

“Don’t move.” He groans. The tone of his voice is one you’ve heard once before, when you were licking and sucking the skin along the column of his throat in the elevator that day. Instead of listening to his clear command, you try to wiggle an inch or two away from him, as if that would help the situation, but it only makes Bucky’s problem more obvious. His hard cock is straining against the fabric of his black boxers, and as you move your hips once again, it brushes against your ass and you feel it. You feel it and you freeze. “Fuck.” Another groan leaves his lips and you feel your cheeks heat up. Your nightmare from moments ago is forgotten.

“Is it…is it from what you inhaled earlier? Tell me what you’re feeling.” The words come tumbling out of you with urgency as you grow more and more worried.

“Yeah. No. It’s just—fuck.” Bucky swears again, exhaling quickly and then inhaling through his mouth. “You smell so goddamn good, I don’t know what to do with myself.” You’re both silent, so silent that you can hear the way he’s mouth-breathing just so he doesn’t have to overwhelm himself with your scent.

“Bucky—”

“You saying my name only makes this worse.” His grip on your hip tightens slightly and you try to keep your own breathing shallow, so you won’t be moving even a centimeter more than necessary.

“What can I do to help?” You ask quietly. What can you do to help? Bucky bites his lip. Your question is so innocent, so kind, and yet all he can think about is actually letting you do the one thing that would help him right now.

“Let me sleep in the car.” He sighs. You can tell he’s struggling, you can tell he’s in need, and as much as you hate that he’s in that kind of position, you can’t help but feel a little excited about the fact that he’s in it with you.

“You know why that’s a stupid idea. What else can I do?” While you’re lying there in front of him, offering your help, Bucky’s squeezing his eyes shut as he remembers the taste of your lips and the skillful way that you ran your hand along his thigh in the car after that one mission, letting your fingertips just barely skim over his bulge. He remembers every fucking detail of the way you kiss and the memories paired with the fact that your ass is still pressed against him make him feel as though all control is slipping away from him.

“Remind me why I can’t have you.” His request takes you by surprise. It takes a moment for your mind to gather the words that will give him what he wants.

“We work together.” Three words? That’s all you can come up with? With his cock pressing against your ass, your mind is going on strike.

“We work together.” Bucky repeats. That’s a shit reason, sure as hell not a good enough reason to get him to let go of your hip.

“It’d ruin our working relationship.” You try again, closing your eyes and taking a deep breath in.

“It would.” Bucky agrees. Your reasons really aren’t even registering in his mind. He’s loosening his hold on your hip but instead of letting go completely, he starts dragging a vibranium fingertip along the waistband of your panties, almost absentmindedly. Your breath hitches in your throat when his fingertip ghosts over your lower stomach, but he slowly drags it back to your hip. He loves the way your body responds to even the slightest of touches.

“It could end horribly.” You point out, trying to keep your breathing steady as he continues tracing the waistband of your panties.

“It could.” He says with a small nod. Bucky doesn’t think as he leans in and presses his lips against the side of your neck. One kiss. One deep inhale. Another kiss. Another deep inhale. You catch yourself arching your back the tiniest bit, pressing your ass against him more.

“There isn’t a single good reason for us to do this.” It’s the last thing you can think of. Bucky pulls his lips away from your neck and his hand stills on your hip.

“There isn’t. It would be a pretty bad decision.” He acknowledges. That’s when you feel him adjust his legs and grind into you. “We might end up hating each other.”

“We can’t have that.” You tsk, biting into your bottom lip after the words leave your mouth. Neither one of you has enough self-control to separate at this point.

“You can have whatever the fuck you want.”

The soft whimper that leaves your lips at the undeniably filthy sentence he’s just spoken against your ear makes him grind into you harder. He can’t think straight when you make noises like that, when you smell like you do. Fuck. You don’t say a word, so he slides his vibranium hand down your thigh and wraps it around your knee, hitching your leg back and over his own. Once he has you a little more spread and leaning even more into his space, he grinds against you from the new angle. You feel his erection against your clothed cunt and the already wet fabric between your legs gets a little more soaked.

“I thought you just agreed that this would ruin our working relationship.” You whine. Please don’t stop, please don’t stop, please don’t stop. Though you sound like you’re being reasonable, your mind is anything but.

“I’m thinking about ruining something right now.” He grumbles against the side of your neck, nipping at your skin.

“We can’t do this.” You say firmly, reaching your left hand down to pull his vibranium one away from your leg that’s still hitched over his thigh. When your palm glides over the now warm metal, you can’t seem to push his hand away. Instead, you intertwine your fingers with his and fight to hold in the moans that are threatening to spill from your lips if he keeps grinding against you the way that he is.

“I know, baby, we can’t.” Bucky groans, rutting into you a little harder and faster, as if he’s trying to get just a little more pleasure out of this before it ends.

“We can’t.” You repeat. Why your hand lets go of his and moves to reach over your shoulder and tangle in his hair is beyond you. Why you pull him further against your neck, encouraging him to kiss and lick you even more is lost on you. Why you don’t do a damn thing to stop what’s currently happening can only be chalked up to how badly you’ve wanted him to fuck you since the first time you kissed him in that bar. Bucky doesn’t dare to say a single word more. He isn’t going to risk talking a little too much sense into you. So, he starts sucking on your neck, leaving obvious marks as you whimper and moan out those sweet, irresistible little noises that have him wanting to fuck you ten different ways.

Bucky’s holding onto the tiniest thread of self-control, it’s all he has left, a damn thread. Every single one of his senses is overwhelmed as he grinds himself against your barely clothed body and tastes the skin of your neck.

“We’re not doing this.” Bucky sounds so resolved, but even as he speaks the claim, he’s pushing your leg off of where it was hitched over his own and guiding you onto your stomach. He doesn’t want you on your stomach, fuck no. He wants you in any position where he can see the faces you make when he buries himself inside of you for the first time, when he starts fucking you the way you’ve needed to be fucked for weeks now, when he cums inside of you. But Bucky knows if he has the privilege of seeing your face through all of that, he won’t ever be able to look at you the same way. He won’t ever be able to go back to working with you in the field. It would ruin your working relationship just like you said. So, he makes sure you’re on your stomach when he starts pushing your shirt up and running his palms along the skin of your back. There isn’t a hint of protest from you as your back arches against his hands and your ass raises up ever so slightly. Even as Bucky begins tugging your panties down your thighs, not a damn word.

Your scent. Your fucking scent. As soon as he has your panties halfway down your thighs, he knows why he couldn’t resist you. You’re ovulating, and he can smell it, the pheromones, just radiating off of you.

“Fuck.” Bucky groans headily. He completely abandons his effort to tug your panties any further than your knees as he rolls on top of you and gets his cock in just the right position to slide between your legs. His hard shaft presses against your wet cunt as he lowers himself onto you and lets his length move between your upper thighs. “You’re already so wet, fuck.”

It only takes a second for you to have Bucky’s entire cock soaked with your arousal, and he hasn’t even been inside you yet. You can’t stop yourself from arching your back and pressing your ass up and into him as he teases you, dragging his length back and forth along your cunt but never giving himself the chance to slide in.

“Bucky…” His name leaves your lips as a needy moan and you don’t have to say another word. You don’t have to ask him to do it. He braces himself with his forearms on either side of your head, his knees on either side of your legs, and lets you shuffle your own knees until they’re underneath you enough to raise your ass off of the bed. A breathy whimper escapes you as a shiver runs down your spine.

“If you keep saying my name, I won’t be able to pull out when I need to.” Bucky warns you, just as you feel the head of his cock teasing your entrance. You think he’s about to push in, when he lets his cock slip away from your entrance and run lazily through your folds. He does it repeatedly, letting it rub against your clit over and over again, listening as your breaths come in more and more ragged at the stimulation.

“Shit, you’re right. You’re not wearing a condom.” You point out in a rare moment of clarity. Bucky chuckles and uses one hand to move your hair away from your neck, before leaning down as pressing a kiss there. You push your forehead into the pillow, muffling the soft moan that you can’t hold back.

“I’m not wearing a condom.” Bucky repeats, as if he means to say that he wouldn’t wear one even if he happened to have one.

“You’re not wearing a—” You’re cut off by Bucky thrusting half of his length into you so suddenly and forcefully that the rest of your sentence disappears from your mind entirely and your hands move to grip his wrists beside your head. You dig your nails into him without realizing as your muscles tense and you press your face into the pillow once again.

“That’s it, get used to it.” Bucky encourages you. It’s such a simple thing to say yet it sounds so filthy coming from him in this moment. It is filthy. He takes a moment for himself, focusing on how tightly your pussy is gripping the first few inches of his cock, how your arousal is basically dripping down his shaft as he lets you adjust to him. That little thread of self-control he was holding onto earlier has frayed more and more and he can’t stop himself from forcing the rest of himself inside of you, until his balls are pressing against you and you’re screaming into the pillow.

“It’s too much, oh my god, it’s too much.” You moan out as you lift your face from the pillow and rest your chin on it instead. You don’t dare to try and look over your shoulder at him, you can barely move without feeling the sting of his cock stretching your entrance.

“No, no it’s just an adjustment.” Bucky coos, pressing another kiss to the back of your neck and inhaling the sweet vanilla scent of your hair. “You’re taking it so well already, just relax for me.”

Your body listens to him. You feel yourself relaxing. First, your hold on his wrists eases until you’re no longer leaving nail marks in his skin. Then, you let out a deep exhale and sink into the mattress beneath him. Bucky’s in awe of you. He knows he’s big, and he knows it’s probably been a while since you’ve slept with anyone with the way work keeps you busy near 24/7. You really are taking him so well. He starts dragging his length out of you slowly, but only a third of the way before he’s pushing it back into you again. The wet sound that results makes him fucking feral. He does it again. Then again. And again. The next thing he knows, he’s holding your hips with your ass up in the air and your face down on your folded forearms as he fucks you so hard that the springs of the couch bed are threatening to snap. With every loud creak of the springs, there’s an equally loud sound of skin smacking against skin. It’s animalistic, the way he’s fucking you.

“Fuck, I’m so close.” You whimper. You bite into your forearm, surely leaving a mark, as he sets a tortuously pleasuring pace. You can feel him reaching a spot inside you no one has ever reached before and it has your eyes rolling back in your head.

“I know, fuck.” Bucky says breathlessly. He pounds into you over and over again, chasing his own release as he feels the walls of your pussy fluttering around him. You’re right there and he can tell. “Cum on my cock, so I can pull out and cum all over your fucking back.” He groans, sounding so damn needy. You can’t think straight. You’re definitely not thinking straight. That’s the only reason you say what you say next.

“No, I’m not cumming if you’re going to pull out.” You say defiantly, actively fighting to hold back your orgasm. Bucky thrusts into you even harder, letting you know that he most definitely likes the sound of not pulling out. He leans down until his chest is pressed against your back and he’s close enough to whisper against your ear.

“You’re going to make me cum inside you when you’re fucking ovulating?”

“How do you—”

“I can fucking smell you.” He rasps against your ear. “Answer me. You really want me to do this?”

You don’t even take a moment to think about it, not a single moment to consider the possible consequence.

“Please.”

It’s only a few hard, deep thrusts later when Bucky’s rhythm grows sloppy and he gives you every single drop of cum he has, fucking it all into you almost recklessly. With every last thrust into your cunt, he’s fully aware that he could be getting you pregnant. He’s fully aware, and yet, he doesn’t have a single fuck to give.

---

It’s the smell of your arousal mixed with his cum, dripping out of you and into your panties, that wakes Bucky around midnight. It’s only been a couple of hours since he was buried deep inside of you but it feels like it could’ve been days ago with how hard his cock is right now. He reaches beneath the covers, palming his erection through the fabric of his boxers as he listens to your steady breaths. You’re sleeping so soundly beside him, with your back turned to him and the covers pulled up just past your waist.

A few key thoughts run through Bucky’s head as he lets his hand run along his clothed length. How serious is this to you? Have you wanted him as badly as he’s wanted you since that night in the bar? Is it just physical for you? A surface level attraction that you momentarily gave into because he was horny and shoving his cock against your ass in a shared bed? But you let him cum inside of you, while you’re ovulating. When your body is fully ready and capable of beginning a pregnancy, you let him pump an entire load into you without a hint of hesitation. You didn’t just let him, you said please. Bucky’s suddenly pushing his boxers down his thighs for the second time tonight, wrapping his fist around his length, and rolling over to face you.

He doesn’t think there’s ever been a better scent than the one emanating from between your legs right now. He can picture the way his cum is swirled together with your arousal right now, probably threatening to soak through the thin fabric of your panties and drip down the soft skin of your thighs until it reaches the bedsheets beneath you. It’s that thought that spurs Bucky on, that makes him tug your panties to the side and press a gentle kiss to the side of your neck as he guides his cock between your legs. The moment he feels the warmth of his own cum from earlier drip from your folds to coat his shaft, he starts mumbling against your skin.

“I need you.” He whispers into your neck, fighting the urge to bite into your skin as the head of his cock notches inside of you and begins to slide in. “Wake up.” Your eyes flutter open just as the head of his cock has fully entered you and the rest of his shaft is following. A raspy swear escapes your lips as your back arches and you start to tense up at the sudden intrusion. Bucky’s vibranium hand flies to your hip, stilling you as he continues pushing in.

“Oh my god.” It’s all you can say as he bottoms out inside you and immediately starts pulling his hips back. He sets a much slower pace than last time, rhythmically fucking you sideways. “I’m sore.” You whimper, turning your head slightly to muffle your moans in your pillow, just like you did earlier.

“I’m sorry, I know.” Bucky groans against your neck, continuing to thrust in and out of you. “Fuck, I’m sorry.” He can’t stop. He can’t make his hips still, he can’t pull out of you and let you recover. He just fucking can’t. He fucks you as gently as he can, using his own cum from earlier as lube. With every slow thrust, your soreness dissipates more and more and pleasure begins to replace it. When he cums inside you the second time, it’s without warning, without one single worry about pulling out. He just does it and expects you to take it…which of course, you do.

---

You wake up two hours later, with aching thighs and the slightest hint of a burn on your neck from Bucky’s scruff. As you lie there in the darkness, listening to the sound of Bucky breathing softly mere inches behind you, feeling the excessive amount of cum pooling in your panties, you only seem to be able to think about one thing. Both times that he’s fucked you, he did it from behind. You didn’t get to see his face once. Not once did you get to see how he reacted when he felt the walls of your pussy clenching around him, the face he made when you told him you didn’t want him to pull out, or the way his eyes screwed shut and his mouth fell open when he was cumming. You’ve been deprived of it.

Why does it bother you so much that he hasn’t looked in your eyes either of the two times he’s fucked you? Is he trying to pretend you’re someone else? As tears begin to rim the edges of your eyes, you tell yourself that you’re just being emotional because you’re ovulating. God. You wouldn’t have even known you were ovulating if he hadn’t told you himself.

Truthfully, you’re not even horny. Yet, you find yourself rolling over as quietly as possible, making sure the bed springs don’t creak beneath you. You’re silent as you tug your panties down your legs and toss them onto the floor. You’re even more quiet as you pull the covers back just enough to let you stealthily straddle Bucky’s hips, making sure you don’t touch him yet. Who knew this is what you’d be using all of your professional training for?

He begins to stir when your fingertips graze over his lower stomach. He draws in a deep breath as you tug his waistband down and free his already hard cock from the confines of his boxers. His eyes are blinking open, studying the sight before him as you wrap your hand around his shaft and stroke it firmly. That’s when he comes to his senses and his gaze lands on your face.

“Shit.” He breathes out as you sink down onto his length with determination. Your face. He can see your face. The way your features contort as you try to fit all of him in at this new angle is ruining him. This is exactly what he didn’t need to see, so he tries to talk some sense into you. “You’ll be too sore if we do this again, three times is too many.” Bucky says quietly, running his hands up your thighs to grab onto your hips. You’re only an inch from being fully seated on his cock when he holds you still, not letting you slide down any further. He doesn’t want it, you think. What man tries to stop a girl when she’s already sitting on his dick? He just wanted to fuck you in the dark, with your face invisible to him, and then he wanted to be done with you. Tears well up in your eyes a little more and you dare to look down at him. His gaze coasts from where you’re both connected, up the front of your t-shirt, to your face. That’s when he sees the watery layer over your pretty irises.

“Just let me do this.” You plead, pushing his hands away from your hips and taking in the last inch of his length. Bucky inhales sharply and screws his eyes shut as your tight, wet cunt envelopes his cock completely. He can’t deny you. He can’t deny you, so it’s his turn to fist the sheets as you start moving your hips. You alternate between sliding up and down the entirety of his length and grinding in deep, slow circles when he’s fully sheathed inside you. Even as a tear falls from your face and lands on his bare chest, he doesn’t open his eyes.

“Fuck, fuck, I’m already so close.” He groans, lifting his hands and covering his face with them. He wants nothing more than to roll you over and fuck you missionary. He wants to rail you into the mattress until its deformed and concaved to fit your body. He wants to pin you down and look into your eyes as he fills you for the third time.

“Look at me.” You whisper, moving your hips a little faster. Up and down, up and down, up and down. Bucky groans beneath his hands, and reluctantly removes them from his face, resting them on your thighs once more. His eyes focus between your legs again, but after a couple of seconds his lifts his gaze to meet yours.

“How do you still look so damn pretty after taking my cock the first two times?” He asks with a pained groan. You know he can’t possibly have much to give you after the first two times, but you’ll be damned if you’re not going to take what you can get. You start bouncing on his cock with increasing desperation, chasing your own orgasm. “You even look pretty with tears in your eyes.” He says with a softer tone.

Right as Bucky nears the edge, you feel his cock twitching, you feel his abs tighten beneath your hands, and you lean down. Your nose brushes against his and for a second, you think about kissing him.

“You know why I didn’t want to see your face?” He asks, his ability to form a complete sentence surprising even him. He pushes your hair back, cupping your cheeks in his hands as you continue riding his cock. “Because I knew I’d memorize the way you look when you’re stuffed full of my cock, and I didn’t think I’d ever be able to look at you the same way again.”

“So you were okay with potentially getting me pregnant but not with looking me in the eye?” You ask incredulously, your hips slowing. Bucky groans and thrusts up into you impatiently.

“Don’t talk about being pregnant, fuck.” He thrusts up again and a smile plays on your lips. His hands move from your face down to your waist as he starts setting a pace.

“Bucky, you fucked me raw. You came inside me twice. I’m probably halfway to pregnant right now and you’re about to do it all over again. We can’t talk about it?”

In the blink of an eye, Bucky’s rolling you over, making sure his cock stays inside of you as he lays you on your back and immediately starts thrusting into you.

“Fine.” He grunts, pushing your thighs up to your chest and draping your legs over his shoulders. He buries himself in you deeper and deeper with every snap of his hips. “I’ll look you in the eye right now while I make sure you’re so full of my cum that there’s no fucking way you aren’t pregnant. Is that what you want?”

“Fuck yes.” You moan out as he pounds into you. Within seconds, you’re a panting mess on the couch bed and Bucky’s staring down at you with a passionate, determined look in his eye.

“Look at me when I’m cumming inside you.” He commands. “Look at me when I’m getting you fucking pregnant.”

TAG LIST:

@sunnyhummingbee @gyokujyn @jenniferpendragon @siciliano13 @ordelixx @crist1216 @twlkdead @claireelizabeth85 @charmedbysarge @blackhawkfanatic @kentokaze @nyashonality @h2oaffirmations @sadeyes61 @lulawantmula @i-l-y-3000 @armystay89 @fandomsfeminismandme

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x you #mcu #marvel #the winter soldier #winter soldier

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hotmencore · 10 months

Text

“𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐭𝐬 𝐠𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐚𝐝 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐰𝐨” 𝐋𝐍𝟒

Pairing: Lando Norris x girlfriend!reader (she/her), Max Fewtrell x reader

Summary: Reader and Lando share a sweet moment on stream, that the fans absolutely crumble over.

Warnings: None, pure fluff

Word count: 600+

A/N: I'm not really sure about this one, so let me know what you think!

Likes and reblogs are much appreciated! Copying and reposts are not! My fics are only posted on tumblr, under this account, @hotmencore

It was currently late on a Saturday night, and you were in the living room of Max's apartment, him and your boyfriend Lando on stream in the next room. You didn't mind at all though, as you and Lando hadn't been back home in the UK for a while, and you two had spent the day with your friends yesterday. You currently held a copy of Before the coffee gets cold in your hands, as you were finally coming to the last few pages of the book. A blanket lay over your legs, the only noise apparent coming from the TV playing at a low volume, and the muffled talking and laughs of Lando and Max from the next room.

You and Lando didn't have a secret relationship, but more of a private one. You came to any grand prix that you could, supporting him as much as possible whilst still working your own job, but didn't feel the need to put your relationship all over the internet. You appeared a lot on Lando's jgp account, which the fans absolutely adored, but that was the majority of which you were seen on social media, your own account being private.

So when it came to twitch streams, you preferred to stay out of the way and leave Lando and Max to it.

You just came to the last line of your book, and placed it at your side, taking a sip of the tea Lando had made you earlier. You put the mug back onto the side table, and tilted your head over the back of the sofa to look almost longingly to the door of which your boyfriend was. You wouldn't admit it, seeing that it has only been about 30 minutes, but you miss his touch. But you knew you didn't really want to be seen on the stream, so decided to leave it and just wait a little.

10 minutes passed, and you had decided that you were just going to have to pluck up the courage to appear on camera if you wanted your boyfriend. You got up from the sofa, put your now empty mug in the sink, and walked to the door, slowly pulling the handle down.

The boys stopped mid conversation to peer over at the door, just as you peeked your head round to see if you were in shot of the camera.

"You okay baby?" Lando asks, a smile playing at his lips.

"Yeah I just got bored" you reply with a chuckle, walking into the room, shutting the door behind you.

"Come here" He says, also with a chuckle, beckoning you over as he shuffles back in his chair, an arm held out towards you. You walk over to him, putting your hand in his, him softly pulling you down to sit on his lap. Your head naturally falls onto his shoulder, your face away from the stream as you shut your eyes, Lando's arms almost instinctively wrapping around your waist in an instance. Lando looks round at you, kissing your cheek before turning back to the stream. For a few minutes, him and Max carried on chatting, Lando absentmindedly dipping his hand underneath your top to trace random shapes on the bare skin of your lower back.

"Mate the chats going mad over you two" Max says with a chuckle, turning his head to look to Lando.

"What?" Lando laughs, shuffling closer to the chat screen on the chair, you lift your head up to also look.

Pretty much every single chat that popped up was about how adorable they found the interaction between you and Lando, though you struggled to read each one fully as they just kept flooding through. All you both did was laugh, Lando and you looking at each other, giving him the chance to place a soft and gentle kiss to your lips, which you happily reciprocated.

#lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #formula 1 #formula one #lando norris drabble #lando norris blurb #lando norris fanfic #lando norris one shot #ln4 imagine #ln4 x reader #ln4 #lando norris fluff #lando norris x you #lando norris x yn

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dellalyra · 9 months

Note

OMG I WAS JUST HAVING BRAINROT ABOUT GOJO AND Y/N IN THEIR TEEN YEARS AND

imagine that back then they had to participate in a talent show or something and megumi and the rest watch the old video tape they found in the darkest corner of the library on campus.

the tape was in a box with a label reading "the best jujutsu tech students' and its just filled with memories of their teen years.

they decide to watch the talent show one and its just chaotic as hell. mid way through megumi, nobara and yuuji get caught watching it lmao

𝙡𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩𝙨, 𝙘𝙖𝙢𝙚𝙧𝙖, 𝙖𝙘𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣! 𝘧𝘢𝘮𝘪𝘭𝘺 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘮𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴

A/N: this request. came in last night - and it’s all I’ve done today because it was so perfect it’s all I could think about. ur amazing ily

CW: swearing, weed, suggestive stuff, mdni i stg shoo

“Itadori! Bring these to the garbage!” Nobara shouts.

“Why me?! Why can’t you do it?!” He retorts as Megumi just rolls his eyes at the two of them, he wonders how they turned into siblings so easily.

“Fushiguro! Tell your boyfriend to take this to the garbage. It’s heavy and he should use his freaky wall-breaking strength for something useful!” She shouts back.

“Eh?! Is exorcising cursed and carrying you like a sack of flour not useful?! Or always carrying all your dumb shopping?!” They’ve broken into an all out sibling squabble by now, Megumi just turns away and continues the task of clearing out the storeroom behind the dojo in the school. Pushing boxes of old files and reports out of the way, he finds a box covered in doodles and stickers, taped shut at the top. He goes to inspect the very out of place container and finds words among the doodles of weirdly shaped beings and flowers.

‘The Best Jujutsu Tech Students.’

“Will you two shut up for two minutes, come look at this.” He says over his shoulder to the two, with Nobara releasing Yuuji from the headlock she somehow got him in.

“Ancient treasure! I told you we’d find something cool.” Yuuji shouts, pumping his fist into the air.

“What is this, Pirates of the Caribbean?! We’re clearing out a high school storage room, dumbass.” The girls rolls her eyes.

They inspect the box, trying to figure out the doodles.

“It doesn’t look super old? Open it, Itadori.” Nobara says.

“Will you quit telling me what to do?!” He says, huffing.

While they resumed the bickering, Megumi took a knife he had hidden in the shadows and sliced through the lines of tape holding the box together. The sound alerted the other two who peered into the box alongside him.

“Wait, are they… DVD’s?” Megumi asks.

“Yeah - but they’re homemade ones. Is there a label on them?” His boyfriend says, leaning in to get a closer looks.

The box itself was filled with small DVD cases of many colours - all labelled in a scrawling handwriting the kids felt like they knew.

“There’s a DVD player in the room where I hung out when I was dead.” Yuuji says, and hauls the box up and begins to walk. None of them even needed to discuss whether or not they’d be watching them, like a hive mind - but with maybe two shared brain cells.

They all made their way across campus, to a room in the same building as their Sensei’s office.

Nobara insisted on grabbing snacks from the vending machine en route, and they sat down on the sofa while Yuuji loaded the first date labelled ‘2003, December.” Well, that’s what they think it’s said. The handwriting was such a chicken scratch it almost looked like a doctor’s unintelligible writing.

The screen came to life - sounds buzzing and voices echoing (albeit muffled) as the screen panned from looking at the floor - to the sky, the the floor again. Then - a face came on screen.

A very familiar one - but… a hell of a lot younger.

“Wait… is that -?” Nobara asks.

“Shoko-sensei?!” Yuuji exclaims.

“That’s kinda how she looked when I was a kid. She’s in her uniform, so this must be when she was in school.” Megumi adds.

The camera pulls away from the close up on her face as another figure enters the shot - a man with odd bangs, silky black hair tied up into a bun and piercing dark eyes. He had a lazy smile in his face as he looked into the camera, poking a finger into Shoko’s cheek.

“What the fuck, Suguru?!” She says as she flicks his hand away.

“That’s - that’s Geto Suguru.” Megumi says. Geto had always been a bittersweet topic in their house, only getting worse in the last year and a half since… since he died.

The next action causes a gasp to echo across the room. A smiling face pops up between both figures.

Dark, circular sunglasses perched on a slim, pale nose and a wide, toothy, cheeky smile sat under a mop of shocking white, messy hair.

“Holy shit! That’s -” Yuuji starts.

“Dad.” Megumi whispers, seeing Satoru so young, probably around his age was amazing to him.

“Wow! It’s working! Is it on? Is it filming?” 16 year old Gojo says, voice eerily familiar, but much younger.

The three faces were all staring into the lens of the camera, only visible from the shoulders up. On screen, Shoko looked down and moved her arm and another head popped up from the bottom of the screen, trying to squeeze in.

The head of H/C hair and shiny eyes wiggled their way into the shot between Suguru and Shoko, and under Satoru.

“Did you say it’s on? It on recording right now?” The new figure pokes the camera.

“No fucking way… Fushiguro! That’s -” Nobara says, swirling to look at the taller boy.

“My mom.” He says, eyes fixed on screen. Your face was younger, hair the same as ever, eyes still full of excitement and curiosity and voice slightly higher than it is now. A hand pats the top of your head, a pale one - Satoru.

“Do a dance for the camera, Y/N.” Satoru says, smiling.

And you do a little wiggle in your spot squeezed between everyone as the other three burst out laughing.

The camera cuts off, and the screen changes to a view of the outside - all of them immediately recognising the training field.

In view is Geto and Gojo, sparring at such a ridiculously quick speed it’s barely visible. He could hear giggling behind the screen and recognised the voices of you and Shoko laughing about something that happened in class.

“They’re such show offs.” Your voice says.

“Geto genuinely wants to train, Gojo is just trying to impress you.” Shoko says, voice muffled by something - which he later sees as a lollipop, figuring it out when it gets launched across the field - presumably in retaliation for her comment by you.

“No way, Koko! That’s just dumb, he’s just a show off in general.” Your voice echoes.

“Whatever you say, Y/N.”

The camera cuts off again. The next thing they see is the night sky, and raucous laughter. The camera is being held by Shoko again, and she points it to a view of a rooftop - the flat part of the roof of the dorm building. The camera turns to one Suguru Geto, eyes hazy and smile even more languid than normal. In his hand was a smoking object - which he passed to Shoko.

They were both laughing together about Shoko saying she could see a constellation shaped like a penis, and the hysterical giggles and she rested her head on the boys shoulder told them that the joint in Shoko’s hand was very much affecting them.

There were clambering sounds.

“I can’t reach!” Came your voice, distant and off screen.

“C’mere shortstack, I’ll give you a boost.” The teasing lilt of Gojo’s voice came after.

“Thanks, Jack the Beanstalk.” Your retort sent the two original stars into another round of laughter before you and Gojo enter the frame, both holding a plastic bag of snacks.

Shoko gives you the joint as you sit, and you take a quick puff and pass it back to Suguru. Satoru declines it, saying it makes his eyes feel funny to which you all nod and say ‘makes sense’.

“Did you get me spicy chips?” Suguru asks, combing through the bags.

“Yes. But - you had to tell me you love me to get them.” Satoru says, smirking.

“Gojo Satoru - you are the light of my life, the centre of my world, the reason my heart beats, please, May I have my child you absolute fuckwad.” He says, as Satoru throws his head back laughing and throws a red bag of chips at him before tackling him to the ground demanding a kiss.

You laugh at the scene, turning to Shoko.

“See - that’s how Geto has at least one date every weekend.” You say, opening your chocolate.

“Man-whore.” She responds, sucking on a lollipop.

The screen flashes black. The same view is on the screen, but the atmosphere is much calmer. Suguru lay, head on Shoko’s lap and her deft fingers carding through his hair as he listens to whatever nonsense Gojo is spouting. The camera turns to a view that has Nobara and Yuuji cooing. Satoru is sitting, arm around your back to keep you upright with your head on his shoulder, eyes closed and clearly sleeping.

Suguru’s voice whispers into the camera.

“And these two say they’re not into each other.” Followed by a scoff from Shoko.

Next up is a view of the training field again, with a sight that made the three current first years laugh. Suguru was laying on the grass, and he was bench pressing you - his makeshift weight - as you lay relaxed horizontally reading a book, the casual nature made it clear this was a daily occurrence.

Once his reps are finished, he gently lets you down and you don’t even react, just laying on the grass continuing your book. He stands up and waves to Shoko, who he’s just noticed with her camera and proceeds to take off his shirt and let down his hair.

“Put your damn shirt back on!” Shoko shouts.

“God damn, maybe I should be a curse user.” Nobara utters, whistling and fanning herself.

The camera is next held up by Satoru - who smiles and puts a finger to his lips to symbolise silence, for some reason, like the camera would be unexpectedly loud. He turns the camera and in the backseat of a car is Shoko and you, both asleep and earphones split between you with a bright pink iPod on Shoko’s lap. Her head was resting in the crook of your neck, and you cheek rested on top of your head.

“They really have always been best friends, haven’t they?” Yuuji says. Megumi is reminded of last week, when Nobara and Yuuji fell asleep in the back of Ijichi’s car, in the exact same position.

The camera operator is back to Shoko now, who is filming the most beautiful scenery. Sakura petals are drifting through the air as throngs of people wander around what appears to be a festival. There’s food stalls and trinket stands and everyone around is in their finery.

“Suguru! Show the camera your best pose.” Shoko says, as Suguru appears on screen decked out in a black and grey kimono with his hair in a half up, half down style.

He throws a peace sign at the camera and then takes it so he can film Shoko who’s in a pretty red Yukata pattered with black and white koi. She smiles and then waves as she looks off camera.

“You’re late, Satoru. Where’s Y/N?” She says as Gojo comes on screen.

He’s wearing a dark blue and silver hakama which looks like it cost the same as a house, Suguru wolf whistles and Satoru pretends to fawn over him.

“She was having lunch with her mom, she’s probably going to be here - holy shit.” Satoru says, but cuts himself off halfway as his jaw drops open.

The camera pans messily as Suguru turns to where Satoru is looking.

You’re walking toward them, smile on your face and usually messy hair styled in a beautiful updo, make up making your skin glow in the afternoon sun. You were wearing a light pink, billowy, gauzy hanfu with tiny pale green flowers and leaves around the edges. You did truly look incredibly stunning. You had a little bag in your hand, and the camera flew back to look at Satoru who was gaping at your approaching figure. His usually pale skin flushed with a pink dusting.

His mouth moves, and it seems unconscious when he whispers to himself.

“Beautiful…”

You walk into the frame, smiling brightly and hugging Shoko and then freezing when you see Satoru, eyes widening at the strikingly handsome figure he makes, every inch a fairytale Prince. The pink on your cheek matches your outfit as you stammer out a breathy,

“Hi, Satoru.”

“Hey, Y/N.” He says, mouthing opening and closing as you look at him through fluttering lashes.

There’s a jolt as it seems Suguru holding the camera elbows his best friend and whispers in his ear, just audible to the camera.

“Bro, tell her she looks beautiful, damn it.”

“You… you look um - beautiful, Y/N.” He stammers out, and the three first years watching laugh at how their oh-so-smooth sensei was once such a mess he needed prompting to flirt from his friends.

You flush even deeper.

“Thank you, Satoru. You look really good too. The um… the blue really suits you. The restaurant I had lunch with my mom had Sakura mochi, so I - I got you some.” You say as you shove a small nicely wrapped box at him and Satoru seems to melt. Shoko appears on screen, making a circle with one hand and poking a finger through it repeatedly in a very lewd gesture that has Suguru cackling.

“Wait - they’re not even together yet. They didn’t get together until the end of their second year.” Megumi muses, smirking.

“So they’ve always been this whipped for each other.” Nobara laughs.

The DVD ends there, and Yuuji jumps up to put in the next one, labelled ‘second year’.

The video begins with you sprinting toward Shoko and her catching you in her arms.

“I missed you so much! A whole summer without you, it was torture. How was the medical camp?” You ask her, barely taking a breath between words.

“Did you not miss me, lil’ lady?” Came a smooth voice as one Geto Suguru wraps his arms around you too, and you squeal in excitement. The three standing are then abruptly tackled to the ground as a blur of white and black whizzes toward them.

“Satoru!” Came three scolding voices.

“How the fuck did you do that, you lanky - oh.” Shoko is stopped abruptly as they all stand up and the change in Satoru is clearly visible. Long gone is the beanstalk boy of their first year, all arms and legs at 16 and now at almost 18 - a broad shouldered, 6ft 3, sharper jawline and longer hair Gojo stands before them. You look like you might faint.

The video stops and then resumes looking at a very familiar blackboard, and a much younger Yaga beside it.

In front of the blackboard there’s two students in Jujutsu High uniforms - both in party hats and standing under a banners with ‘Welcome First Years!’ written in big bubble writing on it, the sounds of streamers and party poppers came through the room as the camera was set down on a desk.

Gojo comes on screen and waves his arms as if to show off the two students. One looked incredibly happy, a beaming smile full of excitement and the other looking absolutely miserable, but given how painfully 2005 emo he looked - it wasn’t surprising. Megumi smirked, seeing the blond boy on screen and knowing exactly who it was from photo albums you kept - but he waited to see when the other two would notice.

“Welcome to Yu Haibara! Please - introduce yourself!” Gojo says, pointing a bottle of cola at him like a microphone.

“Hi! I’m Yu! I’m 16 and I like rice and people!” He says, voice full of enthusiasm.

“Thank you! Next up, Gerard Way!” Satoru smiles and point the mock microphone to the other boy.

“Do I have to? This feels unnecessary.” He says, grimacing.

“Yes! You do!”

“Fine. My name is Nanami Kento -”

Megumi didn’t hear the rest of the sentence as a chorus of ‘What the fuck!?’ Echoes from the two beside him.

“Nobara, rewind that - I think I heard it wrong, I thought the emo kid said his name was Nanami, hah!” Yuuji exclaims.

“No need. You heard right.” Megumi smirks.

“No fucking way! That’s Nanamin?!” Yuuji is smiling so wide at the sight of his mentor as a moody teen.

“Yup. I remember his hair like that, he had a lip ring and a nose ring too. Geto Suguru pierced his nose with Shoko’s med kit for him when they drank too much whiskey at my mom’s 18th. There’s a picture of them doing it framed in their room at home.” Megumi scoffs a laugh, the other two in shock at the revelation.

The camera stops again and next time is looking from an upstairs window as voices whisper.

“What is she doing?” Shoko asks.

“It looks like she’s talking?” Geto asks.

“There’s a tiny spike in her cursed energy - wait, I’ll try see if there’s someone around.” He says and the clink of his sunglasses hitting the windowsill breaks the quiet.

On screen, there’s you in a pair of fluffy blue pyjamas and a winter knitted hat as you seem to be kneeling and ushering something small out of a bush. Satoru seems to have gotten distracted and the camera pans to him - who’s just staring out the window with the most dopey, lovestruck smile on his face.

“Satoru.” Suguru says, flicking his ear.

He snarls, but blushes.

“I - I can’t tell but, it kinda seems like? She is trying to talk to something.” He says, as they all crane their necks as you pull something into your arms and stand up, taking off your hat and tucking whatever you found into it and scurrying back inside.

An obnoxious ringtone of crazy frog blasts through the room and Satoru flips open his phone and answers it.

Since it’s you, he puts it on speaker.

“Hey, Satoru - are you still at the store? I - kinda need something, urgently.” Your voice asks.

“Eh - yeah, I’m at the store. What do you need?” He says, trying to hush the two sniggering traitors beside him who are fully aware that he came back from the store an hour ago and is sitting in Suguru’s dorm with them.

“I - um, I need kitten milk.” Your voice says, just as the camera cuts off.

The next few videos are just videos on videos on you and a tiny, tiny kitten, feeding it from a small bottle and it sleeping on your chest, or Satoru playing with it and a ball of wool in hysterical laughter. One video is taken by Shoko with Suguru in the frame playing with the kitten who is trying to catch his bangs and on the sofa, is you sitting on Satoru’s lap, as he looks at you adoringly and you giggle and place a kiss on his lips. Given that it’s about 3/4 of the way through your second year, it means you’re freshly together after torturing your friends with mutual pining.

Megumi looks closer at the kitten, and the tabby is very recognisable to him - given that to this day, the hairs of that kitten, now 13 years old and still thriving due to your unwavering spoiling, still decorate any black fabric in your home.

“Is that baby grumpy George?!” Nobara asks, hitting the nail on the head.

The video fades again, and then the screen is illuminated by a makeshift stage in the school sports hall. Another large banner is on the wall, with ‘Talent Show’ written in large writing, Megumi now noticed the big bubble writing was the same as had been on every ‘happy birthday’ banner he’d had every year.

The announcer, he recognises as a smiling principal Yaga - even though this is surely not a school organised or endorsed event, but probably the work of the couple he now calls his parents.

“Welcome to Jujutsu Talent Show! The rules of tonight are as follows a) no cursed techniques or cursed energy and absolutely no sabotaging! Panda! Do you want to say who’s going first?” Yaga announced as he lifts up a baby panda and the voice of the baby says “Nanami and Yu!”.

Yu skips on stage, decked out in a cape patterned with stars and a large top hat, followed by a very sullen Nanami Kento, adorned with a nose and lip ring now.

“Ladies, gentlemen, cursed corpses! My name is Yu the Magic Man and this is my assistant, the Fantastical Nanamin! Does anyone here like rabbits?” He announced, and takes off his hat, revealing a stuffed rabbit on his head - commencing the world’s worst magic show. The highlight was definitely Yu asking Nanami to pull the scarf from his sleeve and after pulling and pulling and pulling, a very frustrated Kento growls ‘Fucking hell, Yu - how long is this thing?’ Completely breaking what little mysticism surrounded the performance. Geto didn’t help, when he muttered ‘that’s what she said’ after Nanami’s complaint, setting the second years off.

After a bow to his rapt audience, and lots of cheering and supportive clapping from you all - the first years leave and Yaga announces the next performance.

A loud bang echoes through the room,

“Holy shit!” Your voice, the 28 year old you, carries through the room as three heads spin around to see their sensei’s back, arms supporting the thighs around his waist, belonging to his wife who’s lipstick is smudged across her cheek and her husband’s face. The white haired man’s white shirt was partially unbuttoned and your sweater had fallen completely off you shoulder - combined with the position you entered the room and the ruined cosmetics it was quite clear why the teachers had stumbled into this forgotten room of jujutsu tech.

“Get a fucking room.” Megumi grumbles.

“We were! But you’re here! And just for that I’m gonna tell you that the sofa you’re sitting on was where Akio was conceived.” Gojo retorts, trying to fix himself as all the kids groan.

“Both of you, hush. ‘Toru - look at the screen.” You were transfixed on the paused screen.

“Wait! Is that - that’s our talent show! From second year! Where did you guys find this?” Satoru says, leaping over the back of the sofa and plopping down but not before turning around and picking you up by the waist and sitting you in his lap.

“I thought all the DVD’s were lost! Koko couldn’t find them after we graduated!” You say, as you keep staring at the screen.

“We were clearing out the storage room, like Ijichi asked and we found a funky box with DVD’s in it.” Yuuji says.

“Oh my god! Press play!” You say, clapping.

“Look at angry Nanamin!” Gojo says, smiling.

“Next up is Y/N and Shoko!” Screen Yaga announces.

You and Shoko are dressed in the most colourful outfits ever, you’re beaming and Shoko looks exhausted. Large headbands, crimped hair, tutu skirts, leggings, neon leg warmers and beads were the costume of choice as Geto stood on one side of the stage.

“Welcome to - Y/N and Shoko’s dance bonanza!” You both say, and Geto presses play so that Girl’s Just Wanna Have Fun plays to match the 80s Cyndi Lauper style outfits. Having danced ballet as a little girl, and being a big fan of Just Dance and Dance Dance Revolution - you decided that you and Shoko would do this for the show, exhausted and unenthusiastic - but endlessly loyal to her best friend and determined to not let Gojo win the show. You guys danced a perfectly in sync routine with 28 year old you shouting ‘Oh my god, I still remember the routine!’ Halfway through. Yuuji was hopping along on the sofa beside Megumi.

Before Shoko could collapse into a heap as the song finished, she was thrown over Suguru’s shoulder and hauled off stage with Gojo doing the same for you.

After a brief intermission, Geto and Gojo were welcomed on stage in matching black tuxedo’s, off camera your voice could be heard saying ‘ugh, I’m gonna climb that man like a tree later, suits are the best.’

“Ladies, gents - tonight welcome to The GS squared stand up comedy show, enjoy your night and Geto’s number is available after the show.” Gojo drawls into the mic.

Megumi didn’t expect the routine to be as funny as it was, everyone especially enjoyed the part where they did impressions of different Jujutsu Elders, including Naobito Zen’in and Principal Gakuganji - which were unnervingly accurate but highly offensive to them, especially when Gojo got on his knees to imitate how short the elder Kyoto principal was and Geto kept playing Looney Tunes on the projector to show Naobito’s ‘cursed technique’.

When the audience were thoroughly hysterically laughing, with the audience being Yaga, MeiMei, Panda, Y/N, Shoko, Yu, Kento and Utahime who was visiting Shoko for the weekend, the boys bowed, winked and walked off stage and the camera caught Gojo bending down to whisper something in his ear which had you looking at the sky and blushing - still getting used to openly loving each other.

The voting wasn’t recorded, but the winners announcement was and it was shown to be Yu and Nanami - who everyone, except for themselves had voted for.

“Oh my god, these are priceless! I can’t believe I got even funnier with age, and look at your cute little outfit, princess!” Satoru coos.

“There’s a whole box of them, we’ve only watched 2!” Yuuji says, bouncing and handing the box to you and Satoru.

“No way, it’s the whole box! I remember decorating it with Koko! Hold on, I’m gonna ring her to come here.” You say as you take out your phone, smiling at the lockscreen of Satoru, Megumi and your 6 month old son and pulling up Shoko’s contact to ring her to ‘get her ass down here for a surprise’.

“Oh, ‘toru! I bet our DVD of our trip together to Fiji in the summer of third year, Shoko lent us her came for it!” You say, wrapping your arms around him and settling in while Yuuji loads the next DVD.

“Classes are cancelled, I’ve decided it’s home movie day - do we have any popcorn?” Satoru says, smiling at how fondly Megumi is looking at the screen, a still pause screen of himself and you smiling in the training yard together - still looking as lovingly at each other 13 years later. Yuuji has his arm wrapped and Megumi’s shoulders and is leaning into him, as the dark haired boy rubs circles on his boyfriend’s knee - Nobara has her legs stretched across the laps of both boys as the newest video begins.

The door swings open, Shoko entering -

“No fucking way! You found them! Kids, move up - let Aunty Koko sit.” She says, plopping herself between the arm and her two best friends, her nephew and their bonus kids.

She’s glad she bought that camera.

#jjk #jjk x reader #gojo satoru #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #gojo fluff #anime #family formations extras #dad!gojo

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toxicanonymity · 9 months

Note

omg the way every inch makes me drool idk what u did to me i haven’t been the same since 😃 ur so talented i owe u my kidney for that fic alone ! would ever consider part two?? no pressure !!!

EVERY INCH 2

2200 words, m!ghostface x f!reader

follows Every Inch. NEXT: Every inch 3

SUMMARY: Last time you saw ghostface, he was unconscious from the car wreck and you had your way with him. Now, he's coming to take what's his. A/N: He's never unmasked so ANY Ghostface with a 🍆. Thank you so much for all the love on my first Ghostface fic. This was a "one shot fail" because of the engagement & enthusiasm so keep that in mind. night walks coded. WARNINGS: I8+ piv, noncon, ghostface calls himself daddy once, peeping tom, dirty talk, masturbation (both), knifeplay, hair pulling, manhandling, choking kinda, degradation, pet names (baby, sugar, nasty). NO USE OF Y/N.

You've put Ghostface behind you, at least in terms of fearing for your life. He's finally left you alone. He must be too humiliated to face you after you restrained him and had your way with him in the car while he was passed out. You still look at the picture you took every day. You'd like to get it printed and stick it on your bathroom mirror. He looks so pathetic with his own mess all over his robe. But it's not just the humiliation you love to see. It's his cock. . .

Yeah, his cock. You've thought about it more than a few times. He would've given you every inch. All you had to do was ask. And the video of him whimpering? You save that for special occasions. Like when you need to cum in a hurry.

It's Friday night and you're lying in bed after getting home from seeing a movie. You make sure your vibrator is charged before you start reading, but soon enough you get distracted. You're looking at your video of Ghostface coming all over himself when a call pops up on the screen. No ringtone. Your phone is still on silent from the theater.

The restricted number still makes your heart jump even after such an empowering victory. But you rip the bandaid off and answer it on the first ring. "Hello?"

"So... how'd you like the movie?" the voice changer asks you.

You panic and hang up, but when he calls right back, you answer again. "This isn't funny, whoever you are."

"You know it's me, baby. You feel it in your. . . pants."

"What do you want?"

"I asked how you liked the movie."

Friday night. Lucky guess. You know he’s not going to let it go, so you might as well answer. You’re not going to give him the satisfaction of acting aghast that he knows what you did tonight. "Fine, I liked it. It was fun,” you say dismissively.

"Picked a bad time to refill your drink. . . Missed a great kill."

Your heart jumps. ". . .you were there?" The theater wasn't even that crowded. How could he go undetected? Surely you would have recognized something about a man you rode into oblivion.

He's bemused. "What, you thought I was gone? Nowhere?”

"wishful thinking," you reply.

Ghostface says, “Oh, we both know what you really wish for. . .”

You’re not even going to argue.

“How was your date?"

"How was yours with your hand?" You retort.

"You didn't look interested.”

"What, are you gonna ask me out?" Your face heats up as you hear your own words.

"Not tonight. 'Cause you've got a date with that toy and my picture, don't ya?”

You freeze.

He taunts, "Want a third wheel?"

You ask, "How long have you been watching me?"

"Never stopped, sugar." You feel like a fool for thinking he had. “I’ve just been a little. . . distracted.”

You scoff.

". . . Okay, did you call just to talk?"

"Wanted some audio with my visual this time."

"Pervert."

“oh I'm the pervert," he chides. Your face is burning up.

"You know, you’ve still got something of mine.” His knife. You’ve hid it somewhere special. “Keep comin’ for it. . .but don’t wanna interrupt you.”

You look out your window, which faces the woods. "Cause you put on a good show, baby." There’s never been a reason to close the curtains. You preferred to see danger coming. Danger like him. A lot of good that’s done you.

“You’re a creature of habit, aren’t you?”

Are you that predictable?

“Lucky for me,” he adds darkly. His breathing becomes audible. “Oh, you like this, don't you . . . knew ya would. . . . .Dripping already.” His voice is steady through the equalizer, but his speech pattern tells you his dick is hard. And god damn if he isn’t turning you on.

“Dip a finger and show daddy how wet you are.”

Before you know it, you're doing it. You don’t show him, but you curiously dip you fingers and pull apart the clear string of of your arousal

“Two fingers . . let’s not get ahead of ourselves.” You lie there clenching your thighs together.

“Ah, fuck it. Go ahead, turn it on,” he says but you don’t move. You clench your thighs together. “Turn it on,” he repeats firmer, and something possesses you to turn your vibrator on.

“Yeah, that’s it . . .”

You don’t even need the picture now, or the video, or your reading. But you don’t exactly want to let him make you come this fast.

He sighs and says, “You’ve got a nice, juicy pussy." He spits, which the voice changer doesn’t process.

You close your eyes and recall what it felt like impaling yourself on his cock.

"You don't have to say it," he reassures you menacingly. "I know I’ve got a nice cock.”

He’s right about that. You close your eyes as you touch yourself. You’re too horny to think straight, but in the back of your mind, you try to tell yourself he killed your friends. He killed your friends. It doesn’t make you any less turned on. You sigh in shame at yourself. How does Ghostface have you wrapped around his finger?

“Oh, it’s only natural, baby. This cock’ll fuck you right up.” God, why does that turn you on? “In the guts and the head.”

"Real shame I wasn’t awake.” He breathes heavily for a few seconds. "Coulda been even better for you.”

You fail to suppress a moan as heat is bubbling in your core.

“Yeah. . .Can’t stop thinkin' about this cock, can ya?”

You turn up the intensity of your vibe.

“Not everyday someone takes every inch of this.” He moans weakly then spits again. “Filthy girl. Swallowed it right up.”

“So tell me, sugar," his breathing is even heavier now. "How do you want it?”

“What if i don’t” you lie, then gasp at the tension in your core.

“Then why’d you take it,” he says with a bite and the heavy breathing stops.

“Because,” you pant. “It was there.”

You’re getting close. “How do you want me,” you self-loathingly ask. He doesn’t answer. You look at your phone and he’s gone. Shit. You open the video you took of him and as soon as you hear him whimper, your body jerks as the tension bursts inside you. As soon as you finish pulsing, the regret hits you like a tidal wave. So fucked up. Soooo disgusting. You need a shower.

—---

You take a long, hot shower, listening to music. You sigh, feeling a little better already. You turn off the water.

“Soaking wet. That’s how I want you.” You freeze and the only sound is the dripping water for a few seconds while the song changes.

“Come on, you’re smarter than this.” The voice changer echoes through your bathroom and you almost fall over. “What’s next? Going down to the basement?”

You stand silently in the shower with your heartbeat echoing in your ears. There’s nothing you can do. You squat down, hugging your knees. There’s no good option.

The shower curtain slowly draws open and he looms above you.

“My turn, baby." The glint of a knife–your own kitchen knife–catches your eye. He tilts his head slightly and observes you for a moment. Then he pulls your hair and violently forces you to your feet. You begin to slip and he catches you, then manhandles you out of the tub and you whimper. You’re thrashing around wet and naked. He drags you to the bathroom sink and puts you between him and the sink, both of you facing the mirror. He reaches out and wipes the mirror with his robe to make sure you can see.

The sight is surreal. You’re completely nude with Ghostface up against you. One gloved hand cups your breast while the other raises the knife. He stays behind you and holds your own kitchen knife to your throat.

He inhales audibly. “So clean and so filthy.”

You elbow him in the gut. “Let go of me.”

“Afraid not, baby. . .” The hand leaves your breast and slides lower. He presses on your hip, bringing you tight against him. “Too late now.” His hips push forward and the massive shape of his hard cock makes you weak.

He holds you still with just one of his big arms as you struggle. “Coulda had it how ya wanted.”

The unwelcome throb between your legs is spreading through your abdomen.

“Now you’re gonna take it right here.” He keeps you pinned to the counter, the arm with the knife holding you still while he lifts his robe and tugs his PJ pants down. “You’ve put me behind you after all.” He jerks you back against him, pulling you off the counter and holding you tight against his hard dick. He lightly trails the tip of the knife down your cleavage and your stomach, dipping into your belly button on its way down to your mound. Then he holds it handle-up and teases your cunt with the flat of the knife as you watch in the mirror. The cold metal sends a shiver down your spine and you watch your nipples harden.

“Who are you?”

“Your favorite bad guy. Ask me a. . . harder one.” He grinds himself against you.

“What do you want?”

“To know what your insides feel like.” You suck in a deep breath and register the smell of weed as his cock twitches against your bare skin. “When I’m awake,” he adds.

He pries your legs apart with his knee, then his glove brushes your inner thighs as he aligns his cock at your entrance. “Oh you’re ready ready,” he says. He notches himself with the thick head of his cock resting snug against your wet little hole, then he holds you tight and shoves himself into you with a sigh. You have to try not to moan with the most welcome stretch. “Hell yeah,” the mask says into your ear. Thank God you’re so wet, because there is a lot of him. He pulls back, then slams into you, bottoming out with a grunt then another sigh. You watch your face in the mirror and try to wipe the enjoyment off it.

The hand with the knife rests against your chest as he pounds you. “You’re lucky you’re so hot.” You want to memorize the feeling of his cock inside you so you can come to it later instead of giving him the satisfaction right now. He pants as he thrusts into you harder. “So. . .damn. . . hot.” You look down watching your breasts jiggle as he rails you. “I don’t think so. . . baby.” He grabs your chin and makes you look back up at the mirror. Your drooping eyelids give away how good you feel.

“Take it like a bad girl.” He grunts and brutally fucks you in the way you’re afraid only he can. No, no, you shouldn’t be thinking thoughts like this. “A real bad girl.” A climax is gathering in your lower belly. “Cock hungry little slut,” he bites and it makes you twitch. “This pussy’s mine now, you know.”

He buries himself inside you for another minute and makes it rough. “Now or never baby," he pants. “Know you wanna come on this cock.” God, you do. “Do it now.” He slams into you harder than ever and groans as he begins to pulse inside you. You can’t stop it. The feeling of his climax trips you into your own. Your needy cunt chokes his cock, milking him of an unfathomable load. He fucks you through it and your body jerks into his imposing, robed form. His cum is in every crevice of your core. You can’t help but moan and sigh.

“Good girl,” he says.

His cock slides out of you, leaving a void that slowly caves in on itself. He tucks it back into his pants.

------

Ghostface forcibly positions your chin to take one last look in the mirror. Then he picks up your phone from the counter and forces you to swipe the camera on. He points it at the mirror and says, “say cheese.” He tosses your phone back on the counter, then slams you chest-first into the back of the door with an impact. He holds the knife to the side of your neck and says, “you’re welcome.” He really smells like weed.

“Now where’s my knife.”

“I don’t have it,” you claim.

“I don’t believe you.”

“What’s so special about it?”

“It’s mine.”

“The cops have it.”

“No they don’t. Why are you lying?”

You’re not really sure. He presses the flat of the knife so hard against your throat you start to choke. “Okay,” you manage hoarsely. He lets you breathe. You look behind him toward the toilet.

He drags you by the elbow to the toilet. He opens the back of it and the knife is wrapped up in a grocery bag. “You watch too many movies,” he says. He pushes you out of the way, opens the door, and leaves. The song turns to Call Me by Blondie.

NEXT: PART 3

--------------------------

Please engage (reblog/comment) if you want more of this <333 It might go a long way in motivation.

Yes this is my night walks coded ghostface but I think most people reading this don't know what night walks is lol.

Call Me:This Blog::Red Right Hand:Canon. But in this case it especially makes sense 🥹

@hearteyed-shawty had a song rec last time: I'm Yours by Isabel Derosa.

Slasher master list

@ghostslittlegf @sunflowerleii @igotmajordaddyissues @rileyquinn07

#ghostface x reader #ghostface smut #mickey altieri x reader #billy loomis x reader #ethan landry x reader #ghostface x you #slasher fanfiction #danny johnson x reader #cw noncon #slasher smut #tw noncon #ghostface #slasher fucker #toxicanonymity ☠️#mickey altieri #ghostface ☠️

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arieslost · 2 months

Text

sky full of stars | ln4

summary: dj!lando always plays your song when you’re at the club.

word count: 3,615

warnings: drinking

masterlist — join my tag list here!

2021

You did not want to be in this club. You would need another pair of hands and feet to count off all the places you’d rather be, the very first one being asleep in your bed.

But here you were, not only in the club, but within a throng of people at varying levels of fucked up, jumping around and dancing to the song pounding through the speakers. Your comforts were twofold: the first was knowing that you could handle the two shots in your system, and the second was that your best friend was the designated driver tonight, so there was no way in hell she was going to leave without you.

Frankly, you’d been ready to leave an hour ago. In fact, you’d started saying the words, “I want to go home” when you caught a glimpse of the DJ in charge of tonight’s music. Granted, it was hard to really look at him considering the fact that the lights were low and you were on the other end of the club, but you’d seen just enough to know that he was attractive and any thought of leaving had gone right out the window. Not to mention the fact that he hadn’t said anything when he started his set, so you didn’t even know what his voice sounded like.

You needed a closer look.

So here you were, surprisingly enjoying yourself on the dance floor while you tried to check him out without being overly conspicuous. You were only able to make out a head of curly hair and the large hand that lifted a shot glass to his lips when your phone started ringing, the buzz in your pocket the only indication thanks to the blaring music. You squinted at the screen, thinking it might be your friend trying to find you, but the caller ID read “Potential Spam,” so your phone went right back into your pocket. You were on a mission.

When you looked up, you made direct eye contact with the man of the hour– the DJ you found nothing short of infatuating. You were rather close to his setup, maybe ten people away, but you could feel his gaze on you as he picked up a microphone.

“This next song is dedicated to the gorgeous woman I’m looking at right now,” he announced to the whole room, sending a wink in your direction before getting to work on fading the current song into the new one– “A Sky Full of Stars” by Coldplay.

You felt goosebumps rising on your arms as the first few notes filled the room, suddenly glad that you were here and not at home, asleep. The lights moved in tandem to the beat of the song, and you finally got a proper look at his face. It’s then that you knew you were screwed, because if he wasn’t the most attractive man you’d ever seen in your life, you’d be lying.

You barely had any time to pull yourself together before he was motioning for one of his friends to take over for him and stepping down from the booth into the crowd, making a beeline right for where you stood in the middle of it all.

“You’re awfully bold,” you said when he was close enough to hear you, a bit taken aback by how quickly he’d closed the distance between the two of you. “What makes you think I like this song?”

He didn’t answer at first, instead choosing to slowly run his hand down your arm until his fingers tangled with yours. “You have goosebumps, and I’d be shocked if you didn’t like it. When I played it last time, you came up to me and tried to take the mic so you could sing it to everyone.”

That’s another reason why you never made a habit out of going to the club. Somehow, it always got to the point where you lost your mind a little bit and somehow managed to find new ways to make an idiot out of yourself. But tonight was different– you were managing your alcohol intake, and the hot DJ was calling you out on something you’d been too drunk to remember the next morning.

Your friends hadn’t though; in fact, they’d been gracious enough to provide video proof of them dragging you away from the DJ booth. You’d never felt such shame as you did watching that back.

“Don’t be embarrassed,” he said, his free hand tilting your chin up so he could look right at you as he spoke. “It’s how I noticed you in the first place. I haven’t been able to take my eyes off of you since.”

At least one good thing came out of my foolishness, you thought to yourself as he took your other hand and put both of your arms around his neck. It made sense, anyway– you definitely would’ve remembered seeing him before had you been sober.

“I’m not a very good dancer,” you warned him as he began to sway to the music, taking you along with him as his hands went down to your hips.

“Neither am I,” he confided, lips close to your ear.

The chorus began, the song’s beat drop making the lights change from red to blue, and you decided that you would let this happen, even if it turned into another embarrassing memory. At least you would remember this time, and you’d never forget swaying back and forth with the handsome DJ as the rest of the crowd danced around you both.

2022

You were in the club again, and you couldn’t imagine being anywhere else. Spending so much time with your favorite DJ, Lando Norris, will do that to you. After that first dance, he bought you a couple drinks and didn’t go back to the DJ booth for the rest of the night due to you dragging him right back out into the crowd and dancing with him until your feet hurt too much to stand. Eventually, your best friend had found you and told you it was time to go, and in your tipsy state you’d kept your arms firmly around Lando, said something about “holding him hostage,” and vehemently refused to go anywhere. It wasn’t until he gave you his number that you allowed your best friend to take you home.

He texted you right away when he woke up that morning, and the day after the two of you went on your first date. He surprised you by taking you to a rather high-end restaurant; you’d pegged him for a more low-key guy when it came to dates, despite the fact that he’d dedicated a song to you in front of a club full of people, and you were proved correct when you were on the phone with him later that night.

“I don’t even like going out that much,” he confessed, rubbing a hand over his tired eyes. “I just thought you deserved something special for a first date so I didn’t look like a loser.”

“You could have just told me that,” you giggled. “The dress code for our next date can be sweats.”

You still remembered the way his eyes lit up when you said “our next date.” That next date, a movie marathon at your apartment, had turned into countless dates, and you never went back to that restaurant.

Now, you were in the club where the two of you first met to celebrate your one year anniversary. Lando was wearing a white button up, and had just unbuttoned the top two buttons to reveal more of his tan skin and the gold chain around his neck. You’d given him a look, and he’d complained that “it’s just so hot in here,” but the both of you knew he was just doing it to rile you up.

It was working.

Your hands gravitated to the newly exposed skin, palms running up along his shoulders and fingers dipping beneath his collar to gently scratch at his back. You could spend all night running your hands over his skin, and he’d be happy to let you do it. He leaned closer to you, nearly stepping on your toes as his arms looped around your waist.

“You really weren’t lying last year when you said you were a bad dancer.” You laughed at the affronted look on his face.

“I think I’ve gotten better, thank you very much.” He said, and promptly stepped directly on your foot. “Shit, baby, I’m sorry!”

You only laughed harder, pulling him into a kiss. You could feel the vibrations of his own laughter against your lips.

“Wait right here,” he instructed, breaking the kiss. “I’ve got something for you.”

He kissed your cheek and disappeared into the crowd.

The song playing began fading out, which caught your attention because it was in the middle of the chorus. You didn’t need Lando’s DJ knowledge to know that it was a strange decision to fade a song out long before it was over.

“Attention, everyone. We had a special request tonight from a familiar face,” the DJ announced before passing the microphone to none other than your boyfriend.

“This next song goes out to my beautiful girlfriend,” Lando said, pointing directly at you and causing your face to get hot when half the room looked in the direction of his finger. “Happy one year, baby. I love you.”

Your jaw dropped as the familiar opening notes of “A Sky Full of Stars” started playing. Not just because of the song, but because of those three special words. I love you. You’d only said it to each other a handful of times, and Lando had just said it to you in front of hundreds of people.

You met him in the middle of the floor, too impatient to wait until he got back to you.

“I love you, I love you so much!” You yelled over the music, kissing him again.

“One year is just the beginning, yeah?” He asked, and you nodded enthusiastically, cheeks hurting from smiling so wide.

2023

You were wrapped up in Lando’s arms as you stood before his setup. In the past year, he had been promoted to be the main talent for the club and had three sets every weekend. He had insisted that the only gift he wanted from you for your two year anniversary was that you help him DJ his next set, and you’d obviously agreed. You got him a necklace anyway, but kept your promise so long as he promised to help you gain at least some skills beforehand so the audience wouldn’t kick you out for being shit. After a week or so, you felt confident enough with the buffer of the knowledge you’d picked up over the past two years to be where you were now– fading one song into another almost seamlessly.

Lando would take his hands off of you for only seconds at a time to adjust something here or there and make the music flow as smoothly as possible. Otherwise, he was all over you for the whole club to see, and you were kind of obsessed with it. He was hardly paying attention to anything else; only moving on autopilot to fiddle with the knobs or whatever it was he was doing to make you look like an adequate DJ.

“Did I do okay?” You asked towards the end of the set, looking over your shoulder at your boyfriend who hadn’t stopped smiling at you since you left the apartment and arrived at the club early to set up.

“Are you kidding? I think I might be out of a job after tonight,” he said, threading his fingers into your hair to pull you into a long kiss. “At least I would be, if I didn’t have this party trick under my sleeve.”

Slightly dazed from the passion of his kiss, you let him lean around you and queue up a song that wasn’t originally in the mix for that evening’s set.

At this point, you should have expected it, and maybe you did a little bit, but that didn’t stop the tears from pricking your eyes and the goosebumps rising on your arms when “A Sky Full of Stars” began, sending the crowd into a chorus of cheers.

“It works every time,” he said cheekily, reaching up to wipe away the tears that had escaped.

“You are unbelievable.” It was meant to be said in jest, but you were just so filled with love and adoration for him that it sounded like a compliment.

“Dance to our song with me,” he said, spinning you and tugging you forward so you bumped right into his chest.

“Here?” You looked behind you, at the set up, at the hundreds of people, and he took your chin in his hand and turned your face back to him.

“Here. Now. I want them all to see how much I love you.” He said it so sweetly that, in that moment, you were willing to give him just about whatever he wanted.

He started singing the song to you, “‘Cause in a sky, ‘cause in a sky full of stars, I think I saw you,” and it felt like you were the only two people in the room when the beat dropped and you kissed him with everything you had, letting him sway you back and forth and spin you around one too many times just to see his smile and hear his giddy laugh.

2024

You’re surprised when Lando tells you that he’s made different plans for your three year anniversary. The club has become a second home of some sorts; you’re there more often than not to watch his sets, and you’ve always gone there for your anniversaries. Not just the years, but the six month, year and a half, and two and a half year anniversaries as well. Thus, the sudden deviation from tradition raises a few alarm bells in your head. If anything, you’d expect a change for your four years next year since 4 is your boyfriend’s lucky number.

You don’t have time to dwell on it that much. You have to be out the door in ten minutes, and you still have to finish applying your lipstick, not to mention strap yourself into the sparkling silver heels Lando had gotten you for Christmas.

“Almost ready, baby?” He asks, peeking into the bathroom and watching as you add one last swipe of lipstick.

“Yup! Just need my—” you’re cut off when he holds up the heels. “—shoes. Thanks, Lan.”

“Here, sit. I’ll put them on for you.” He gestures to the edge of the tub.

You take him up on his offer happily, and your heart jumps up into your throat when he stares right into your eyes and slowly gets down on one knee before you.

You’d overheard him talking about possibly proposing to you with your parents over the holiday break, and you hadn’t been stealthy about it at all, so he knows that you heard. Since then, he’s made a game out of getting on one knee in front of you every now and then. He already did it once this morning when he woke you up only to tell you that he made you breakfast. You know he’s joking, but now that you’re celebrating a significant milestone in your relationship you can’t help but have a slight inkling that his joking around is less of a joke and more of a hint.

So when he holds your gaze long enough to make you start thinking that it might actually happen before going about putting your shoes on, you’re not at all fazed and ruffle his hair.

“Hey! Easy, I spent a lot of time making my hair look good for you.” He yelps, jumping up to look in the mirror and patting it down meticulously.

“I like it when it’s messy,” you reply, giving him a look that you know drives him crazy.

“You can’t say that and look at me that way when we’re trying to leave the house, babe.” He whines.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You make sure the straps on your heels are tight enough before you stand up, pleased that your retaliation to his down-on-one-knee joke worked better than you thought it would. “Come on, I don’t want to be late!”

He wastes no time in getting his payback for your antics when you arrive at the restaurant he took you to for your very first date. He opens the car door for you, and takes your hand to help you step out. The moment you’re on the sidewalk and the door is closed behind you, he gets down on one knee again, making a point to look at you the entire time. Your heart jumps again. Certainly he wouldn’t do it on the sidewalk? Or maybe he would, to add to the element of surprise?

He doesn’t. He simply ties his shoelace, the picture of innocence all the while.

“Shall we?” He says as he straightens up, offering his arm with a smile.

You retain your own picture of innocence, wrapping your hand around his bicep. “We shall.”

Seeing that he had booked the private dining room has more alarm bells going off in your head, not to mention the fact that you thought you’d never see the inside of this restaurant again. Regardless, you were actually kind of happy to be somewhere quieter to celebrate your anniversary, as much as you’ve fallen in love with being at the club.

Lando clears his throat loudly towards the end of your meal as the waiter pours two glasses of champagne. “Three years,” he begins, sounding somewhat awestruck.

You nod in agreement. “Three years. Sick of me yet?”

“I don’t think that’s possible.” He passes you a glass, and you clink them together before you each take a sip. “Actually, I’d really love to just spend my entire life with you.”

Now he’s not even trying to hide it, so you laugh a little bit. “That’s sweet, Lan.”

“I’m serious,” he pouts, and you try to contain yourself, painting a serious expression on your face and nodding as you press your lips together. “Fine, I admit it. I went a little too far with the joke.”

“Which time? Are we talking about just today or the past few weeks?” You ask pointedly, taking another sip of your champagne.

“Okay, a lot too far.” He huffs, getting out of his chair and pushing it in before walking to your side of the table. “I want to make up for it right now though, if that’s alright with you.”

“Oh my God. You’re actually serious?” You ask, feeling your insides beginning to shake a little with giddiness as he gets down on one knee before you for the fourth time today.

“I have never been more serious about anything in my life.” He reaches into his suit jacket and pulls out a small box.

It looks a bit different than ring boxes normally look, and the moment he opens it you understand why. The notes of “A Sky Full of Stars” emit from within the box where the ring sits, the dazzling diamond sparkling when it catches the light.

“Fuck’s sake, Lando, I wouldn’t have spent so much time on my makeup if I knew you were gonna do this,” you sniffle, putting a hand over your mouth.

“I’ll keep it short because I don’t want to cry too much and ruin it,” he promises, taking your free hand in his own, the other holding the box out to you. “I’ve never been happier to be borderline assaulted by a drunk girl in the middle of a set, because if that never happened I don’t know if we would’ve met.”

You start laughing hysterically, tears most definitely ruining your makeup, and he laughs through his own tears.

“I just love you so much, every little thing about you. It would take me eternity to tell you how much I love you, and that wouldn’t even be enough time with you. So, that’s why I want to ask you to be with me beyond eternity and do me the honor of being my wife.” He says your name like he’s saying it for the first time, taking his time to savor the way it rolls off his tongue. “Will you marry me?”

“Yes,” you nod. “Yes, yes, yes.”

Hand shaking, he slips the ring onto your finger. The moment it’s in place, he puts his other knee down and pulls you into the tightest hug as the song continues playing from the box.

“I love you,” you whisper in his ear, feeling his shoulders shake slightly as he cries. “But did you have to give me a heart attack so many times today?”

He laughs, pulling away and grabbing a napkin to gently wipe your eyes. “Four’s my lucky number, I had to do it three other times today to make sure I got it right.”

The song comes to an end, and you pick up the box, observing the intricate design and the engraving on the outside– You get lighter the more it gets dark. I’m going to give you my heart. Forever.

“You know this has to be the song we dance to for the first time as Mr. and Mrs. Norris, right?” You say to him, leaning in and kissing the tears off of his cheeks.

“Way ahead of you, baby. I already started making our playlist; it’s the first song on there.”

note: the fact that i’m posting this after lando confirmed he “retired” from dj-ing… call this my long-winded eulogy. special thanks to coldplay for making a song that inspired a whole story!

requests are OPEN, and my inbox is always open for comments, criticism, and conversation! feel free to pop in!

reblogs are always appreciated <33

beautiful dividers by @/saradika !

tags (i’m sorry if i couldn’t tag you!): @venusacrossthestars @67-angelofthelordme-67 @emails-i-can-send @nelly187 @cixrosie @fangirl-dot-com @sainzluvrr @imheretoread @mellowarcadefun @yourbane @monsieurbacteria6 @thef1diary @clara760-blog @baby-moxley @positiveaspirations @xfuckoffx @hannahbrown2002 @cataalinababeyy @inejghafawifesblog @formulasportworld @meandjoemama @maddie-bell @mrsmaybank13 @hadids-world @havaneselover08 @aacherrylips @itsmoonia @universallyhoundbonkfestival @rery30 @paigeworlds @wassgood @itscrzy @ctrlyomomma @inlovewithdeadboys @multifandomfan1 @bwormie @megsmclaren @barackostea @enchantemirrorball @tiredallthetimex @cosmoscoffeee @mlilyb16 @ophcelia @idktbhhsworld @l-inas @kath8278 @formulaangel55 @y-nusername @sla123455ffh @dinodumbass @diaa-20 @alexmarie29 @lisoba13 @ftdtlovecore @clowngirlsstuff @jurelij @romanxffs @sadisticfries @loyalpuffofthehuffle @cherrue @itsprashimusic @danielmarie @dampcelery0294 @shasasthings @bringbacktim @lou-larcher5 @yunakynn @hanbinnneee

#full fic #lando norris x you #lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine #ln4 imagine #ln4 fic #formula one x reader #formula one imagine #f1 imagine #f1 x reader

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leclercstars · 4 months

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lando fic🙏🙏 size kink and pushing down on her lower stomach while he's inside!!?

Obsessed with this one. This might be my fave thing I've ever written so thank you to whoever requested this.

house of balloons.

Lando Norris x Reader

Warnings: 18+!! smut, hate sex, slight degradation and dom!Lando, cursing, size kink, unprotected sex.

“Get a grip,” you snapped as you strutted away from the bar. Now you had to wait to get another vodka lemonade. There was a viciousness to everything about you in that moment, from your facial expression to the way you sat and rejoined your friend group.

“What was that?” your best friend knew everything about your life, and you knew she was asking just to get a rise out of you.

“What do you fucking think? I thought him and his friends had stopped going here.”

“Well breaking news: that is not the case,” one of your other friends chuckled.

“Ugh, I just cannot deal with this tonight,” you sat back in the the booth and groaned, pulling out your phone in hopes of avoiding more conversation about the topic.

“I should start making you that angry more often.” read the text that suddenly lit up your screen.

You hated Lando, and he hated you right back. Ever since freshman year you could not stand his “holier than thou” level arrogance and the way he always had to find a way to push your buttons in whatever setting you two were in. From class, to the bar all the way to the time you two ended up in the therapy waiting room together.

“Okay Lando pls stfu. Dealing with you tonight was enough.” You had gotten into a heated argument with him in the bar, which you suddenly could not remember the subject of, pondering his last text in your head.

“I think I know how to fix our little problem”

What could he possibly mean by that. No way was he about to suggest sex.

“And what might that be?” you chuckled to yourself, noticing that your friends were peering over at your phone screen. Little snoops.

“Let’s leave.” Yep, there it was. He thinks fucking will somehow be the answer to your now four-year battle with each other. You had made each other’s lives a living hell. One time you fought so bad you both started crying, in public. Not the finest moment for either of you. But you thought more and more about his proposition. Sometimes he stared at you a little too long when you wore one of your skimpy going out tops, especially that lace corset, which of course you happened to be wearing tonight. He stood a little close to you to whisper insults in your ear, and occasionally slid a hand to the small of your back when you were standing next to each other. Maybe this was the answer. Besides, hate sex actually sounded kind of fun.

“If you really want to do this then come over to the booth and I’ll get up and leave with you.” If this was really his master plan, you were going to make sure everyone knew about it. You weren’t gonna let him get away with lying about this little inchident later. It took him less than 2 minutes to appear at your table, hand extended towards you, a mischievous look painted all over his face.

“See ya around!” he waved to your friends as he dragged you out the bar.

“I better be getting a text about this later” you looked back at your friends' aghast expressions. They were looking at you as if you had just been shot through the head.

It didn’t take long to get to Lando’s shitty college house. You argued the whole way there. You almost shoved him in front of a moving car on accident. Maybe that would make the sex better.

He led you up to his bedroom, a surprisingly gentleman-ly gesture. The only light came from the dim glow of his computer monitor, casting a red ambiance over the entire room. How perfect, you thought.

“Let’s just get all that anger out, huh?”

“Worth a shot.” you smirked before inching closer and closer to him. The space between you two held so much tension, a pit of horniness, rage and frustration. He grabbed your face with both hands, his lips crashing into yours. You had never kissed someone with this much passion before. Neither of you knew how to keep your hands to yourself, but why bother. His hands explored every single inch of you, places that very few people had ever touched. He had already unhooked your bra effortlessly, your soft tits pressing against his chiseled chest. Fuck, he actually was kind of sexy all this time. He started gently biting your lower lip, causing you to moan into him. You could not be the only one moaning in this situation, so naturally you started palming his growing erection over his boxers.

“Shit,” he whispered softly before groaning, his lips never leaving your face. There was a neediness, a hunger to the way you were touching each other. An intensity, a fury, and unfortunately one of the most erotic things you had ever experienced.

He picked you up and threw you back onto the bed, the harshness of it turning you on even more.

You covered your pussy with your hands- giggling. You couldn’t help it, teasing him felt like the right thing to do in this scenario.

“Oh that’s not gonna work. I’m gonna fuck that little attitude right out of you.”

“I’d like to see you fucking try, pal.” your sly expression just making him angrier and angier.

He pinned your hands above your head as you laughed, loving that he was really taking it as a challenge. He slid his boxers off with his free hand.

Holy fuck. You had NEVER seen a dick that big. He was absolutely massive. Your confidence faltered for just a second, thinking that even though he was so much larger than you in stature, his dick could not have been that exceptional. But boy were you fucking wrong.

He gave you half at first, watching the way your face contorted as you adjusted to the feeling of him filling you up. He didn’t let you get comfortable for long, sliding the rest in as you shouted his name, probably waking the entire neighborhood up. Whoops.

“This might be the only time I ever get you to submit to me like this. Fuck you look hot when you’re being a good girl.”

You were going to fight back more- but those words made you want to listen to anything he told you to do for the rest of eternity. After two sickeningly slow thrusts, he started pounding into you. That attitude you had earlier had completely left the room, probably the stratosphere too. His dick felt like nothing you had ever taken before, nearly hitting your cervix with every pump in and out. It unfortunately was not going to take long for you to orgasm, as much as you wanted to hold out so you could keep experiencing this feeling. The feeling you never thought the guy you hated could give you. Pure and utter ecstasy. The alcohol flowing through your veins had you putting on quite the performance, moaning just as loud as Lando, tossing your head back and creating large claw marks along his back.

He thrusted deep into you- holding himself there. He made eye contact with you, his eyes low and filled with a fiery lust you had never seen before. He pressed against your lower stomach and holy fuck- you could not believe this was real.

“You feel that? That’s my fucking cock all the way inside you. You’re being such a good little slut taking me like this.”

You never wanted that feeling in your stomach to go away.

He pressed down again, shooting waves of pleasure through you that made your vision start to blur. Were you going to orgasm when he wasn’t even fucking you?

“That’s enough of that, can’t make you feel too good.” he winked as he started fucking you again, bringing you right to the brink of an orgasm.

“Fuck Lando, you’re gonna make me cum.” He grabbed your throat.

“I’m gonna cum too. Look at me baby, I want us to remember exactly what we’re doing to each other.”

You never broke eye contact as you both lost control, his forehead pressed against yours as loud moans filled the room.

“That might be the only good idea you’ve ever had.” you laughed as he cleaned you both off.

“Of course that’s what you say right after I fucked the shit out of you.”

#f1 smut #lando norris smut #lando norris one shot #lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #lando norris x y/n #f1 imagine #f1 one shot #lando norris angst #lando norris imagine

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kookslastbutton · 1 month

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Guilty Pleasures ༓ jjk, kth (m) | chapter ii

✒ Summary: Three years of being Seoul's power couple earns you nothing but a big fat divorce settlement and your face plaster on every gossip column around town. You're angry, hurt, and desperately want to move on, but worst of all? You're still in love with the man who started the whole mess, even though the most he can ever see you as is a friend. The renowned actor you've hired to be your company's new endorser seems to have a soft spot for you though. He's easy on the eyes, you'll admit, but who actually wants a divorcee like yourself? It's unrealistic really.

pairing: ex-husband ceo!jungkook x ceo!reader, actor!taehyung x ceo!reader

genre/AU: angst, smut, fluff, loverstoexesto ?, coworkers2?, unrequited love

Word count: 4.5k

Warnings: oc and jk are both 30, Taehyung is 32, swearing, fighting, confrontation, tornado of emotions, mentions of alcohol consumption, mentions of sexism in the media and business world, public shaming (both direct and indirect), morally grey characters, mentions of toxic relationships, mentions of abandonment issues, mentions of therapy, attempts to self-regulate but reader is pissed, mentions of self-blame though oc knows its not entirely her fault, mentions of defamation charges, JK is just 🤬 while KTH is 😇

playlist: Unkiss Me, Apologize, Hate That I Love You, etc.

a/n: Woah okay....so had I fun writing this, even though it took me a hella long time to decide whether to continue the story as a series or not 🫣 Anyway I altered the summary slightly from chapter one (and updated for consistency purposes), but it doesn't change my overall plans! As you read this chapter, I hope you will be able to see my vision (I'm nervous af! haha)! Enjoy 🥰 (edited but pls forgive me for any oversights...my typos are ridiculous)

series masterlist | next >>

You’re seated in a wide sofa chair, surrounded by four blank walls, and the gentle sound of water tricking from a faux rock waterfall. Every element of the space is carefully integrated as a means to calm you. Yet it doesn't calm you in the slightest. Your hands are clammy. Muscles tense with the adrenaline spiking through your veins. It doesn’t help that you’ve been running on nothing but black coffee all week either, refusing to eat until the first promo shoot with your company’s new endorser was launched.

A natural in front of the camera, Kim Taehyung was able to speed the process up, yet it didn’t stop the massive dark circles from forming under your eyes. This morning, he'd told you they were unnoticeable but you've seen how you look in the mirror, and they're anything but unnoticeable. Still, you find his gesture to soothe sweet. Thankfully, your new partnership has been smooth sailing which is quite a blessing considering the disaster he nearly walked into.

Yes. You’re referring to that disaster in particular. When, in some desperate last-minute attempt for validation, you threw yourself into the arms of your ex-husband.

More like fixed the collar of his shirt and whoops, slid right on his dick…again.

What is wrong with you?

You’ve been asking yourself the question far too many times. You’d think being a hot-shot CEO of a million-dollar tech company would make you like titanium, resilient as finely pounded steel but no; you're just barely keeping yourself together. You regret your rash decision that day, you regret ever marrying Jeon Jungkook, and you regret ever giving in to your stupid feelings.

That’s why you’re here now, waiting in the office of your therapist’s private practice, hands restless in your lap. You’ve been seeing Melody for just over two months since your divorce was finalized, ready to move on; trying to, more like.

‘JeonX CEO Jeon Jungkook’s ex-wife compensated $1.8 billion in divorce’

‘South Korea’s Golden It couple split with ex-wife taking half the company revenue’

These are the lovely words that greet you from your phone screen.

You have the urge to grab your special red ballpoint pen from your bag and scribble out the entire paragraph, except it’s not a printed gossip magazine— it’s a newspaper column on the internet. Instead, you close out the pesky tab on your phone and reply to its sender.

Chim 🐥: can you believe this crap they’re saying about you?! It's no shit you were given a hefty divorce settlement. You brought in half the income! They’re making you look like some kind of gold digger. I swear if I ever lay my eyes on that pretty ex-husband of yours, I will end him! 😡 [sent at 5:06 pm]

Park Jimin, your childhood best friend, sends you a follow-up text when you don’t immediately reply to the news articles he forwarded over. He’s been extremely overprotective of you lately and especially pissed at how the media’s been portraying you, while Jungkook is seemingly getting a free ride. He’s always had an axe to grind with your ex-husband, to be honest, the divorce gives him only more reason to hate him.

You: Thanks for your concern Chim, but nothing they say surprises me anymore. If you don’t mind, can you stop sending these to me? [sent at 5:12 pm]

You hope your message doesn’t read as cold or dismissive. Jimin’s concern for you is a light in a dark place, but you don’t really want to be reminded of the amount of slandering articles still targeted towards you.

Gone are the days when the public saw you as a powerful woman in business, the one to watch, or the CEO of the fastest-growing startup in the last ten years. You're now simply Jeon Jungkook’s conniving ex-wife; as if you’ve merely seduced him for his money and ran when the going was good.

Of course, the whole situation is skewed to his side; half the world is in love with him after all, and that includes the few lingering reporters who've been practically salivating three feet from you at any given chance, hoping to get an exclusive “inside look”. Your marriage was a sham, you wanted to scream, a mutual business transaction.

Too bad rather than an increase in status, resources, and market share, you gained a pile of twisted, unwarranted emotions and regrets.

“I apologize for the wait Ms. __."

The door swings open as your therapist rushes into the room. She stops at her desk to retrieve last week’s session notes, then takes a seat in the chair adjacent to you with crossed legs.

“It’s okay,” you assure, straightening your posture. “I understand how crazy busy the day can get. It wasn't a long wait anyway."

Melody gives a small smile and jots a few words on her notepad. “Thank you for understanding. How are you doing this week?”

You take a deep breath. "Tired," you respond, "especially this week at work. It's like as soon as I wrap up one project, there's another jumping out from nowhere." You used to be ahead of the game. Now you're barely surviving.

"That's right," she hums. "Last week you mentioned having to attend a charity gala soon. Would you like to start there today?"

Crap, you're suddenly reminded that you have to pick up your gown by 7 pm tonight. You entertained the idea of not going to the gala at all, but that would do you no favors in the end. Given your situation, you can't skip out on such an important charity event.

"Sure," you nod. "The Winter Gala's tomorrow night, actually. It's funny how I used to look forward to it every year, being an opportunity to network and catch up with my peers. I can't say I feel the same thrill this time around."

"Because of the divorce you mean?"

"Exactly. Being the CEO of one of the largest software corporations in the world, my ex-husband's influence far exceeds my own. So whether out of loyalty or political agenda, anyone who's anyone will be on his side of the room. I'm gonna end up being that one awkward person in the corner in a far too expensive Dior gown who no one wants to dance with." You nervously chuckle out the last sentence.

Melody opens her mouth to respond, yet stops when she notices you're not quite finished.

"It'll be the first time seeing my ex-husband after months of no contact too. I guess that's what I'm looking forward to the least."

When you think about it, the most you've seen of Jungkook is his face appearing on the massive screens downtown. He's been featured in at least a dozen interviews lately, teasing a brand-new product his company's planning to release in the spring. Seems he's doing well.

"What you feel is valid Ms. __." Melody seeks to assure you. "In the past, you used to go to these events with Jungkook right? He provided you with a sense of safety, as you did for him, no doubt. I wonder if it's a lack of consistency and belonging that worries you, more than it is about seeing your ex-husband and your peers. Companionship too, of course."

"I suppose that makes sense, but it never used to be this way." Your voice raises to match your sudden argumentativeness. "I used to be very comfortable in my own skin. I used to be confident going to these events alone, long before Jungkook came into the picture."

You pause to take a breath before continuing.

"When Jungkook became CEO of his family's software company, JeonX, he was steps away from being bought out by both our competitors, so a partnership was proposed. We married at 27 as nothing more than two ambitious, rising leaders in business. Neither of us was after love or romance when our careers were at stake."

"But then that changed for you," your therapist carefully observes. "Combined, you both held the largest share of the tech market. You and Jungkook were also in an extremely intimate relationship, yet treated it as a business contract. Unfortunately, those don't always come out clean in the wash. It appears to me that while you gave him three honest years of your life, he stole those three years from you."

The words take a moment to sink in; Jungkook stole three years from you. It conflicts with what you want to believe, though from the bottom of your heart, you know she's right.

"I feel so...guilty. I hate that I fell for him, and I hate that I'm struggling this much to let him go." As you tear up, Melody hands you a tissue from the side table with an empathetic gaze. You mouth a thank you and gently dab your eyes with the soft fabric.

"I'd give yourself some grace Ms. __. But if I may ask, what about Jungkook?" she gently probes. "Do you think he feels the same?"

"No...," you say with remorse, shaking your head. "He's moved on."

Melody remains silent for as long as you need in the moments following, cautious to follow your lead. The last thing a therapist should do is rush their patient through the session, so she sits patiently and waits for your go.

"Sorry," you finally say. "We should continue."

"No need for apologies," she replies. "Take your time."

It takes a good minute or two longer of sitting in your car before you can fully compose yourself. As usual, your session with Melody was intense and insightful, but it was far too short. You're gripping the wheel with both hands when her final words of the session echo through your head: "Give yourself some grace; blaming yourself won't do any good."

Seemingly simple advice, yet tough to follow when you constantly feel responsible for the mess you're in. Yes, even though Jungkook has the bigger end of the stick, you made your share of mistakes too. You should have looked into other options when you found out your competitors were looking to buy out JeonX instead of eloping with their CEO.

Just what were you thinking __? you harshly scold yourself. You were trying to protect your company. You both were. Too bad you placed the cart in front of the horse.

Forcing yourself to take a slow, deep breath, your eyes widen in alarm when you catch the time on the clock— 6:38 pm. Fuck! The boutique that's holding your gown for tomorrow's gala is closing in twenty minutes. Without a moment to spare, you yank the seatbelt and slam your foot on the gas.

"Good evening Ms. __." A young woman, fitted in a black pencil skirt and white blouse, greets you with a faint bow as soon as you step foot into the posh boutique.

"Hello, Hana," you refer to the young lady by name with a smile. "I'm terribly sorry to be coming in this late. I came by to pick up the gown I sent in for alterations two weeks ago. The event's tomorrow and I know the shop will be closed for the day."

Knowing the exact dress you're referring to, Hana responds with a soft tone, "Please don't worry Ms. __. We have the gown ready." She disappears to the back of the shop to retrieve it.

As you wait, your mind drifts to memories of last year's gala. You had worn a vibrant, gold gown that evening, slightly risky with a low neckline. Jungkook liked it though, as he wore a matching gold vest himself. You can imagine how crazy the press went when you both set foot on the scene, arms linked and appearing to have coordinated your attire perfectly.

Every investor at the gig wanted to be your friend that night, anxiously pushing through the crowds to speak to you. One of them nearly split your dress in two, as he had accidentally stepped on your gown after one too many drinks. You recall Jungkook scolding the man before turning his full attention to you, making sure you were alright. You consider this to be the first time you truly started looking at him as your husband, a feeling of warmth blooming inside you.

How foolish you were to let that feeling grow.

You're attending the gala alone this year, without him.

Possessing no desire to call attention to yourself this year, you've chosen a rich, navy blue gown instead. It's subtle yet sophisticated. Made out of the finest silk, its silhouette is sleek and falls straight down to the floor without any extravagant frills. The neckline is simple too, paired with a tasteful open back. There are no flashy accessories or embellishments, just a straightforward, classic design. You find the gown beautifully elegant, and nowhere near as bold as your previous one.

"Here it is Ms. __," Hana chips from afar, her heels clacking against the polished floor tiles. In her hand is a generously sized garment bag, your dress flowing underneath.

"Thank you so much, Hana," you say, taking the gown from her hand. "Again, I'm sorry for my tardiness picking this up. I hope you have a wonderful night."

You leave the boutique, the sun having already set.

The Winter Gala takes place on the top floor of Seoul's most luxurious hotel, specifically in its grand ballroom. The walls are adorned with gold trim, and its floors are elegantly lined with polished black marble. Above, a magnificent glass chandelier glimmers, catching the moonlight filtering through the surrounding glass windows.

Despite being a private event, the gala attracts a whole slew of press and locals who eagerly gather on either side of the hotel's front doors, treating it as a prime spot for viewing the red carpet.

Physically, you're ready; dressed to the nines, and makeup done just right. Mentally, you're absent; secretly sipping a margarita at the end of the earth, wherever that is. The day finally comes for you to make an appearance at the Annual Winter Gala and it's clear, you're not prepared in the slightest.

Your nerves consume you as you sit in the backseat of your limousine. You protested against being dropped off at the front entrance. Hell, you hadn't even wanted to arrive in a limo. However, your PR team insisted you be seen arriving, happy to be supporting a charitable event for the eighth year in a row.

Reluctantly, you complied.

Chim 🐥: I wish I could be there with you tonight 😞 No matter what, don't let those snobs get into your head. You look stunning and you have nothing to be ashamed of! [sent at 6:23 pm]

"Thank you, love," you whisper to aloud upon reading your best friend's endearing message. Before you can craft a reply, your door is flung open, with harsh flashes of cameras blinding you. When you step out of the limo, you hear a mix of passionate cheering and interrogative remarks.

"Ms. __, could you share with us your experience of attending the gala without Jeon Jungkook by your side for the first time?"

"Ms. __, it's unexpected to see you here this year, especially considering your recent separation from your ex-husband, who is also on the guest list!"

"Ms. __, how do you plan to navigate the evening's festivities without the familiar presence of your former partner?"

Just keep walking __. If you can just get inside the building and tune out the noise, you'll be fine. You coach yourself with every step, but make little progress with the amount of discomfort only skyrocketing. Your photos are being taken, and questions barrage you from all angles. To top it off, you feel a strong migraine coming on and oh fuck— is that the devil now?

You don't have to glance back to guess the sudden increase in cheering is due to the arrival of another hot A-lister. It has to be Jungkook with a new woman by his side. You think he wouldn't bring a date to an event like this, even if she were a hire? You'd be horribly mistaken.

You fight against the urge to turn around and confirm if your suspicions are true.

"__!" a voice calls out, which you ignore.

But wait a minute.

You stop in your tracks—that's not Jungkook's voice at all; it’s far too raspy.

Peeking over your shoulder, your jaw falls open as you see Kim Taehyung steps behind you wearing a boxy grin on his face. He's dressed to the hills with a shiny maroon, Louis Vuitton suit hugging his slim waist. Quite handsome, per usual, but what is he doing here?

Taking the initiative, Taehyung strides next to you and waves to the crowd charismatically. “My movie shoot wrapped up early so I thought I’d swing by and see what all the excitement’s about,” he says.

You observe how easy it is for him to appease the crowd, a skill you’re still working to sharpen.

“Tae-” you begin.

He then turns to you and looks straight into your eyes. You shiver at from the sudden intensity.

“I got an invitation too, and the gala happens to support a cause that I find close to my heart.” His voice lowers for the next part, allowing only your ears to hear. “I also didn’t want you having to be alone this evening, __. I hope I didn’t overstep my boundaries.”

Taehyung’s words manage to coax you away from your previously frazzled state, comforting you as the chaos quiets around you.

“Thank you, Taehyung. You didn’t, don’t worry,” you reply, giving a tight-lipped smile. “It’s actually a good thing you came since you’re basically the second face of my company after all.”

“I’m happy to hear that. We’ve been working so well together recently, and I don’t want to ruin it. May I?” He offers you an arm.

“You may.” You slip your arm into his and continue towards the hotel entrance. You admit you’re glad to see him.

With Taehyung nearby, your apprehensions of the night start to subside. He’s not always beside you, slipping away to mingle often, yet his mere presence relaxes you. You haven’t even thought about Jungkook to be honest. Well, maybe a little bit.

You take a sip of the drink in your hand and casually scan the ballroom until bingo, you spot your ex-husband by the bar in the middle of half a dozen people. Figures he’s the center of attention, effortlessly tethering people to himself. Jungkook loves the spotlight, and the spotlight loves him. As you continue watching him from across the room, a whirlwind of conflicting emotions swirls within you; longing, sorrow, anger. You haven't seen him in over two months, it feels surreal.

Memories of your time together come flooding back all at once—both the good and the bad, yet mostly bad. It's strange how someone you were once so close to can suddenly feel like a stranger. You allow your gaze to linger a moment longer, curious to conclude a date is nowhere in sight. Perhaps you’re mistaken and they’ve merely slipped away for a second. You’re positive he would’ve brought someone.

Bitterly, you gulp down another sip of your drink. When you place your glass down, you nearly choke at the sight of Jungkook's dark eyes burning holes at you. You avert your gaze immediately, silently begging that he didn’t just witness you staring at him and take it as an unsolicited invitation to come over.

“So,” a provocative voice unexpectedly slides next to you. “Looks like you just traded one bachelor for the next __. I’m shocked to see you’ve shown up to our little soirée.”

Oh god, you roll your eyes, recognizing the owner of the slithery voice like the back of your hand. You do not have the stamina for this tonight.

“Kathy," you greet with the fakest, yet sweetest smile possible. "Nice seeing you again. I haven't seen you since last year. How's the baby?"

"Oh please," she scoffs. "Don't try to deflect, sweetie. We both know it's you who is of far more... intrigue. If you understand my gist."

You want to hurl at this woman's condescending tone. Nothing gets under your skin more than someone your age calling you sweetie. It's not endearing in the slightest, especially when it's Kathy Lee, Director of CommaTen. You despise each other, likely because you both hit it big in the industry at a young age. Meeting someone who reminds you so closely of yourself isn't always a blessing.

“Anyway, as I was saying," she continues, brushing her hair behind an ear. "I have quite the bone to pick with you about stealing that actor from me. Kim Taehyung was mine first, you know."

Hers? She speaks as if a person can be owned. You won't lie, you're surprised Taehyung agreed to partner with you at a time when most of Seoul's elites have turned against you. You're naive to assume that his support wouldn't backfire on his reputation. On the other hand, he's been your endorser for two months now and his following remains fully intact.

“To be frank, I didn't know the two of you were talking business at all," you respond to the accusations with composure, though burning up inside. "But of course, he's free to make his own decisions, can't he? Whatever the reason, something must have enticed him."

“You—" Offended by your insinuation that your offer was better than hers, Kathy doesn't stop what comes next. "We both know the only reason why Kim Taehyung's with you is because Jungkook left you! And you need the extra publicity, isn't that right?"

Fuck. Well, now you're really fucking embarrassed because, at that moment, everyone in the room shifts their attention your way. A pin drop could be heard in the entire ballroom since even the live band ceased their playing.

This is why you didn't want to come. Your fingers fumble with the fabric of your gown.

“Don't act like you're above me just because your company might be worth more than mine, __. We'll catch up with you soon," Kathy spits her final words before spinning around and triumphantly walking away.

Don't cry, you tell yourself. Everyone's staring at you; the press, your peers, Jungkook, and Taehyung. Don't you dare cry.

As the murmurs of conversation gradually resume around you, you force yourself to take a deep, steadying breath. Kathy's words were nothing but a feeble attempt to save her own face. Besides, what company doesn't have at least one endorser?

"Are you alright?" Taehyung's low, gentle voice catches your attention as he swiftly returns to your side, no doubt influenced after witnessing Kathy's verbal jab.

You manage a tight-lipped smile, nodding faintly as you attempt to push back the overwhelming wave of humiliation. "I will be," you reply, though the words feel hollow even to your own ears.

His gaze lingers on you for a moment longer, a silent understanding passing between you.

"I hope you don't take her words to heart, __," he mutters. "I chose to become your partner because I genuinely believe in your product. I'm selective about who I support, so please trust me when I say it wasn't because of material gain or pity."

You're on the verge of responding to his reassurance when you catch sight of your ex-husband from the corner of your eye, striding his way over to you for the first time tonight. His expression is unreadable, so you brace yourself, unsure of what to expect.

"__," he starts, his voice low but carrying an unmistakable urgency. "Can we talk?"

You and Taehyung share a quick glance before you follow Jungkook out of the ballroom, seeking privacy.

As soon as you're out of earshot, Jungkook turns to you, his features softened by a hint of concern. "Hey," he starts. "I meant to get over to you sooner but got tied up. You know how it is."

"Yeah, I know," you respond, though you'd rather he didn't come over at all, especially after being dragged into the spotlight in front of all your peers and colleagues.

The two of you share an unsettling silence before he speaks again.

"You-You look good." He allows his eyes to rake up and down your body, causing you to cross your arms in discomfort. There was a time when his gaze brought a flutter of excitement, but now, you're not so sure it brings you the same pleasure.

"I'm sorry for what happened in there," he says. "You okay?"

"What?" you repeat, your eyes wide with surprise, stunned by his unexpected apology. "Am I okay?"

Where was this concern when he handed you the divorce papers nine months ago? Or when he willingly took advantage of your vulnerability that time in your office, only to disappear afterward, as if he hadn't just torn your heart out of your chest? You clench your fists, trying to contain the rising temperature of your anger.

"Yeah, about what she said about you," he clarifies. "It was uncalled for, and I feel horrible about it." He reaches out to touch you, but you instinctively step back, as if his touch would scorch you.

"Please, don't," you sigh, a trace of weariness in your voice. "It's fine."

"I'm serious __, I can have her charged with defamation for that. It wouldn't take much!" His insistence is unwavering, and it strikes your last nerve.

"You don't need to fight my battles for me, Jungkook," you suddenly snap, voice stern. "I'm not completely helpless now that you've divorced me!"

Jungkook's expression darkens, regret flickering in his eyes. "I'm not saying you are. I'm just trying to help."

"Help?" you repeat, doubtful. "How do you think that's going to look for me in the media? Jeon Jungkook slaps another high society member with a defamation charge for ex-wife. Thanks, but no thanks. I get enough of that as is."

He sighs, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "I know they've been difficult on you recentl—"

"Difficult?" you interject, your anger bubbling to the surface. "In case you haven't noticed my face is on every gossip magazine, billboard, press release, and anything else they can use to scorn me with. It's unbearable, especially since I still have a business to run."

Jungkook winces, clearly stung by your words. "Then let me help. I'll get them removed for you. I still care about you, __."

You scoff. "You care about me? Is that why you made me sign our divorce papers three months after you found out I wanted more than a fake marriage?"

His jaw clenches, gaze dropping to the floor guiltily. "It's not like that, __. I'm not trying to be an avoidant asshole. I want you to-"

"Find someone else. Yeah, I got it," you mutter bitterly, feeling a fresh wave of hurt wash over you.

"I'm sorry, __. I am."

You stare at him, torn between resentment and a lingering ache for the connection you once shared. Now, he's apologizing?

"So am I," you say, slowly backing away from him. "You don't have to do anything, Jungkook. I'm fine."

You then turn on your heels to return to the ballroom where Taehyung still waits for you, leaving your ex-husband standing in the hallway, alone.

a/n: A much-needed confrontation between oc and jk eh? But... *laughs evilly*..this is not the end...LMK what you think! 🤔🤍

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aphrogeneias · 3 months

Text

...right? — one-shot

pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader (modern!au)

summary: you're not sure of where you stand with eddie munson, but you're forced to confront your feelings after almost losing him.

word count: 3k

warnings: fluff and angst with a happy ending. jealous!reader. feelings of self-doubt. eddie munson is a sweetheart.

author's note: this one has been a long time in the making, and it may be a little melodramatic, but i'm doing a lot of self-projecting here, so be nice. thank you to @intrepidacious for reading it for me and giving me your approval <3 i'm sorry to all the girls named emma reading this, but i had to give that character a name.

We're performing tonight, if you want to stop by.

You'd been staring at this message for a couple of minutes now, unsure of what to do. You seemed to be in this dilemma a lot, as of late — to answer or not to answer, to show or not to show.

Too scared to show how you felt, but too scared to lose him at the same time.

Zoned out, you caught Robin’s hand flying in your direction from your peripheral. “Stop looking at your phone!”

She snatched it from your hand, still open in your conversation with Eddie. Robin whistled when she took a look at your screen, “Oh, I see. How are things with Mr. Headbanger?”

“You're talking to Eddie?” Chrissy chimed in from her side of the bed, lifting herself on one elbow to see you better with Robin between you.

The three of you had been like this all night, spread out on Chrissy’s queen bed, a sequence of old romantic comedies playing on her TV. There was an empty pizza box on her fuzzy carpet, and a half finished bottle of wine next to it, the second of the night.

You groan, trying to get your phone back to no avail. “Things have been… well, I think. Too well. I guess I've just been waiting for the other shoe to drop.”

Then, it was their time to groan.

Your friends like calling you jaded, but you consider yourself a realist.

It's been a topic of conversation between you for years. Ever since your last relationship ended, after you'd been left for another woman, when you swore off love for good — at first, they thought you were just grieving, it would take time to heal, of course, but you never really did.

You don't think you've ever been anything other than an open wound, in that sense, even before your ex. The high walls that were meant to protect you eventually became a prison you couldn't get out of. A princess and a dragon, all in one.

That is until Eddie Munson came into your life.

No one's ever made you want to drop those walls as much as he does. You'd met him through Chrissy, who’d been his friend since high school, and at first you thought he wasn't really flirting with you. He seemed to always be flirting with everyone, always getting a little too close. Until he asked you out, and you were still not convinced.

It could be a friend date. He could be after one of other friends. Maybe he was just passing time until he found someone better.

That was a few months ago, and Eddie hasn't gone anywhere.

He had a few shirts on your place, merch from various bands which you were growing fond of listening to them in his car. Shirts you would wear to bed when he wasn't spending the night, curling into bed with his smell on you. He'd made friends with your cat, and fixed your coffee in the morning the way you liked it, and left strands of hair loose in your shower.

A brave knight, that Eddie is.

Despite your closeness, and the honesty you see in his eyes whenever you're near him, neither one of you has put a name on what you have. It keeps you up at night, thoughts about calling him your boyfriend and have him laughing at your face. How could you be so stupid?

The thought of it brings tears to your eyes.

“What if that's it, though?” Chrissy interjects, with a gentle voice. Her small hand reached for yours, and gives it a reassuring squeeze. “What if there's no other intentions, no other shoe to drop? You have no reason not to trust him.”

“You say that because he's your friend.”

“Chris is right, babe.” Robin says, sitting straighter on the bed. “He’s never given you any reason to think like that. You need to let yourself go, just this once.”

You sigh, and mumble something along the lines of “Easier said than done,” as you sit up and pull your knees to rest your chin on them.

“You should go, by the way.”

Robin reaches to you with your phone in hand, handling it back to you. Her blue eyes are kind, understanding. Chrissy smiles from her place between you.

“Our local rockstar is waiting for you.”

You respond Eddie with a short omw <3 before your friends are pushing you out of your stupor, and into the street.

They’ve already finished their set by the time you arrive at The Hideout.

You're dressed entirely inappropriate for a dive bar full of metalheads and middle-aged bikers, but you don't let yourself think too much about it because no one really notices you coming in, except for the bouncer who compliments you on your old college sweatshirt.

The night is well beyond starting. The bar is full, and it takes you a while to find Eddie, but when you do, he finds you immediately.

He's at the foot of the stage, talking to his friends. The rest of the band is around too, and you wave at them as Eddie makes his way towards you. The smile that pulls on your lips is uncontrollable when he, with an excited smile of his own, takes you in his arms, wrapping himself around you. “Hi! You just missed the show!”

“I'm sorry! I was at Chrissy’s.”

You take a second to look at him closely. His wild hair is a little damp, and his Accept shirt has the sleeves cut off, which shows more of his tattoos. There's a studded belt on his hips, and you don't think too much before pulling him closer by it.

Eddie kisses you on the forehead, and his lips linger a little bit before pulling away. “Did you tell her I said hi?”

“Forgot to. But next time I'll make sure to send your regards.”

When he's close like this, you almost forget your doubts. When his arm is around your shoulders and he's pulling you close, the smell of his cologne and the last cigarette he smoked before going on stage cling to you, and you cling to it in turn.

“Good, and make sure to arrive on time next time too because we played your favorite and you weren't here.” He pouts dramatically, putting one hand to his chest.

The gasp you let out matches it. “Metal Health? Eddie, no!”

“Eddie, yes!” He shakes you a little, turning you in the direction of the tables. “We played Quiet Riot, and you weren't here to see it. Have to say I'm a little disappointed, sweetheart.”

Walking along with him, you stop when you reach a vacant booth on the corner. Turning to face him fully, you leave a soft kiss on his stubbled chin. “I guess you'll just have to keep playing it, then.”

“Does that mean you'll come to every show?”

There's no space between the two of you, standing chest to chest with each other. The rest of the bar disappears. “I might, if you'll have me.”

“Baby, I'll…”

The bubble you find yourselves in shatters and breaks when Eddie stutters, and turns, because there is someone poking him on the back, disturbing your moment. It's a woman, asking to speak to him.

You don't really register what she's saying. All you know is that you've seen her around before, and you know she's friends with the guys. Eddie apologizes to you as he's being dragged away for a private conversation. “I'll be right back! Don't go far.”

Nodding, you remain frozen in place.

They don't go far, but you can't really tell what they're talking about, but her hand on his forearm, slowly rising to his bicep, tells you everything you need to know.

You don't realize it but you're shaking a little bit, cold sweat prickling through your suddenly frigid skin. There's a ringing in your ears, and a lump growing in your throat, but you can't stop yourself from looking.

He looks beautiful like this. The light from the now empty stage hits his figure from the back, making him look every bit like the rock god he's always aspired to be. The frizz on his hair creates a halo around his head, and you think you might faint.

To his credit, he doesn't get any closer to the girl. Doesn't flirt back. His smile is polite, and he maintains a sensible distance, but that's not enough to ease your mind.

He's only keeping a distance because you're here. Your mind says, always the traitor. You're holding him back. He could be making out with a different girl every night. Maybe he is. Maybe he is and you're none the wiser. Better walk away now. Go, before your heart breaks.

It's already breaking, and you're the culprit.

You almost don't notice Eddie return to you, as your vision’s gone blurry.

“Sorry, Emma wanted to invite me to an after party. Told her I was busy.” There it was, his easy smile again. From a first look, you wouldn't think Eddie Munson smiles so easily, but it's always there, pulling on his full lips and showing off his dimples.

You would smile back, as usual, but it's like your face can't move.

“Just you?” You ask, “Not the rest of the boys?”

He laughs, but there's not much humor behind it. “Just me.”

“Aren’t you gonna say anything?” He is still grinning, raising one eyebrow at you, as if taunting you to speak up. Something rotten spreads through your insides, stirring them, rising like bile right through your opened mouth.

“Say what? It's not like we're dating, Eddie."

If regret could kill, you would be dead the moment you saw his face fall. Eddie's expressiveness is a double-edged sword — his happiness was contagious, but when he’s upset, there is nothing that could distract you from the way his bambi eyes plead to you.

You double down anyway, already feeling like a fool, but too stubborn to take back what you said.

"...right?"

“Is that what you think?” He asks, a pout on his pretty lips. “Is that what you want?”

“I… I don't know.” Your mouth is moving, but it's like you don't have control over what you're saying anymore. Like you can't even hear yourself, too taken by the dread that has taken over your body. “I think… What do you think?”

You throw the question back at him because you can't be the first one to say it. Because if he backs out, if you say what you really want — and it's him, he's all you've ever wanted, and the realization hits you like a punch to the gut — and he says it's never been quite like that, that he doesn't want you the same way, that he's just been passing the time, you would break.

Eddie looks away from you, then. His fingers pinch the bridge of his nose, “You're not sure what you want, is that what you're telling me?”

“No! No, it's not like that.” You almost choke on your own spit, “I'm just…”

Scared. Of opening your heart, of rejection, of him leaving when he learns how much you want him, need him.

“If you're not sure of what you want, I think you should take some time to think about it.”

“But, Eddie, I…”

“Think about it, and call me when you know.”

One of his hands goes to your shoulder, squeezing it, and briefly running thumb over the fabric of your sweatshirt. He's turning around before you can stay anything, the lump in your throat too big to allow you to speak.

The room feels like it's turning upside down as you turn the other way, towards the door. It turns and turns on its axis, and you almost lose your balance as you're making your way out. You wave halfheartedly at the bouncer, who waves back at you in the middle of his conversation with a green haired girl.

Walking home, you have time to think of what you'd just done.

As the tears roll freely through your face, and you wipe them with the end of your sleeves, you think of Eddie’s sullen face, once full of life, now transpiring his disappointment in you. You'd let him down, and it was all your fault.

In an attempt to protect yourself, you pushed him away.

You imagine him back at the bar, with the boys. With Emma, ready to console him after what you just did to him. The thought of it just makes you cry harder, trying to control your breathing as you get closer to your apartment.

You did what you always do. Leave first, turn your back, clam up back into your shell. You just never thought you'd do that to him.

It doesn't take long until you spiral.

You did all you could after you got home. Tried to breathe, but it only made you cry harder. Curled up on the couch with your cat, a brown tabby that curled herself right back into you, and cried until there were no tears left. Ignored your friends’ messages on your phone, pretending everything was all right.

Tried to drink, but felt too sad to even open your fridge. Ran into one of Eddie’s hoodies hanging from the back of a chair in your room, and felt more tears coming, but no strength to cry.

Everything in your room reminded you of him — your unmade bed where he'd be lying on if you didn't screw up, the fantasy book he'd let you borrow on your bedside table, a polaroid of the two of you with your arms around each other serving as a bookmark.

You pick your phone, and it rings and rings. He doesn't answer. In a moment of panic, you leave a message instead, pacing through your room on your bare feet, still wearing the clothes you went out in. The cat on your bed follows your movements with her eyes.

“Hi, Eddie. I… You might not even want to hear from me right now, and I get that. Really, I do, but… You just need to know I know I fucked up. I didn't mean to do you like that, I didn't mean to say those things to you.”

Your voice trembles, just like the hand that's holding your phone to your mouth, but you keep going, “Of course we're dating, we've been dating for a while now. I was too scared to say anything because we never put a label on it and I thought you didn't want anything with me, I guess I just didn't want to be the first one to say it in case you decided this wasn't… that I wasn't… what you wanted.”

There's a few seconds pause as you take a deep breath, and release it in an anguished sigh. “What I'm trying to say is… that I like you. A lot. Have since the beginning. And I understand if you didn't want anything to do with me anymore because of what I just did, but… if you still want to talk, I'm… I'm still here, okay? I'm still here.”

When you're finished, you throw your phone back on your bed, and wait.

You're still pacing around the house, a mug full of tea in hand, when you hear your phone vibrating on your bed. You almost don't pick it up, but you do anyway.

Two notifications from Eddie.

Can I come over?

Are you still up?

Hands shaking, you answer with a simple Yeah. Key’s on the carpet.

The clock on your screen says it's 2:22 AM.

You hear your door opening not too long after that, the spare key turning on the lock, as you're sitting on the couch, writing like a kid that's to be scolded when their parents come home. The mug of tea is half empty at your feet, and now cold, just as your nervous hands as Eddie comes through the door.

Wearing a Metallica sweatshirt, an older one that you've borrowed before, one you know how soft it feels on the skin, he comes in and silently closes the door behind him, leaving the key on a small ceramic plate by it.

You cave in before he can say anything. “I'm sorry.”

Your chin is wobbling again, but you swallow it down, not wanting to make a scene. Eddie comes closer, and sits next to you, careful not to kick the mug that you left carelessly on the floor.

“No, I'm sorry. I should have said something, I should have told you what you meant to me sooner. You know… I've been calling you my girlfriend to everyone but to the person who matters the most.”

“Everyone?” You repeat, “Everyone who?”

“The guys. At work. Wayne…”

“You told your uncle I'm your girlfriend?” The word feels foreign in your tongue, but not unpleasant. Eddie looks sheepish, but the corner of his mouth twitches and lifts just a bit, one of those dimples you love making an appearance in your dimly lit living room.

“Yeah. Like I said, everyone but the one who matters the most.”

There it is. That earnestness, pouring through him, warming you up from the inside out.

“And I guess… Am I the person you mean?”

“Who else would it be?” He's tilting his head now, kind eyes aimed at you. You huff a weak laugh, them, relief hitting you in waves. Not thinking too much, you throw yourself at him, hugging him by the shoulders, and folding your legs under your thighs to be closer to him.

“I'm still sorry, though. Sorry that I made you think I had doubts, or that I…”

Eddie doesn't let you finish, shushing you with a hand on the back of your head, and another wrapping around your waist, keeping you in place. “It's okay, sweetheart. I'm sorry too.”

“Since we're both sorry, does anyone have to be sorry at all?” You mumble into his shoulder, taking in his smell through his clothes. It soothes you more than anything can, along with his voice vibrating through his chest, and the warmth of his body clinging to yours.

“I think we can discuss the details in the morning.”

He seals it with a kiss to your temple. You and your boyfriend sleep on that same couch, and in the morning, there is nothing left to say.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst #eddie munson fanfic

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KINKVEMBER DAY: 4

[prompt: roleplay] male reader x kang hyewon 8k words

“I need you,” Hyewon says in the uneasy dark of a hotel room, with two urgent fistfuls of your shirt, “need you to do to me all the things my husband never will.” “Yeah, I know,” you tell her, “you said that,” and her eyebrows move in all the wrong directions, “I’m just wondering if, you know, maybe we should give him a little more credit.”

Here’s the truth:

Hyewon doesn’t believe in leaving evidence behind and you don't find it particularly productive to doubt her; you’ve been talking in code for years. Parts and pieces of yourselves reduced down and bottled into set phrases that, to anyone else, would be totally incomprehensible.

"i've been thinking," she texts you, which you've come to understand means she's already made up her mind, "maybe we should do that thing we were talking about. tonight."

(You're not always so fast on the uptake.)

You send two back two texts, both of which ask "which thing?" because the hallway from the breakroom to your desk has poor reception and it never lets you send just one.

Then, right after you cross the threshold between signal-drowning-concrete and the glitzy glass-walled arboretum they've built to make you feel like you're not a total cog in their corporate machine, your phone pings the receipt of Hyewon's reply: a picture - her laptop, propped up on your coffee table with its screen angled for perusal, of a booking site that's filtered to show results for their 'king bed & view' room at a midrange hotel a forty-five-minute ride from your apartment.

"not really doing much narrowing down here hyewon."

She replies to you - her text bubble appearing over another couple still images, of herself in the vanity mirror as she curls her hair around her finger and holds this little black slip of a dress over her shoulder, black lacy lingerie in tow, the whole nine - with:

"i'm feeling kinda adventurous."

Five o’clock rolls around but you never really do figure it out. You spend the last three hours at work deciding which kink of hers (oh, does she have a few) this is all in service to.

There's nothing overtly sexual about her pics in the first place - not more than usual anyway, more showing off her curves and cut jaw than showcasing anything for her 'adventurous' intent. So that can't be the tell - you'd seen her in a corset once (you can't unsee it) and the angle of her hips to the mirror makes you think that if she was planning on pulling on a pair of crotchless panties then she probably would've found her thigh high stockings, too.

You try and think of what the two of you had even talked about when discussing these little scenes - how many times you'd ended up 'in the mood' during or after such a meeting of the minds, how it'd snowballed from there, a whole list of filthy what-ifs that she'd probably put more thought into than you ever have - but you draw a total blank. It could be any of a number of things.

Until,

"i left you instructions on the kitchen island," reads a text on your phone which you definitely don’t check while you’re driving -

And then it hits you.

"ah."

"yeah, 'ah'," she replies.

A quarter past seven at the hotel bar is way too early for any real promiscuous activity, but then again, you're here playing at pretend and half the fun of games like this is in the setup.

Meet me at the bar, your instructions read, introduce yourself, and play it by ear.

There's some couples at the other end, some friends downing shots by the round, people musing over their aperitifs, and a woman sipping alone at the bar - Hyewon, appearing to you from the back first:

The pointed edges of her shoulders narrow out over this tiny cocktail dress that somehow covers less of her than if it weren't there at all, skin tight, accentuating even her softest curves. She has her hair fixed a particular way - teased enough to flip at the ends but still a single sweep down her shoulders, pulled together softly by a ribbon in the back, tied like a fantasy, allowing a wispy strand to fall to her face - glossy and dark and glowing to this rich, deep mahogany where it's cast in the lamplight.

The line of her throat, of her chest. Where her hips meet her waist in a rounding flare. The effort and beauty she's gone to, for you - that she puts in every day just because she knows it gets your attention, can do more than turn a head or two; Hyewon's appearance is almost indifferent of you, only coincidental, but she puts on a damn good act.

(You look a lot more worn in comparison: jacket thrown over dress shirt and khakis, tie loose at the neck. Standard office attire with just a step-outside-regulation. Disheveled.)

A drink, you suppose - approaching the bar to try and catch the bartender's attention to order a single malt.

But if Hyewon's been waiting long, she doesn't complain when you pull into the stool beside her and sit for a long moment.

"Do you mind if I join you?" you say over a pair of politely folded hands - and that's generally where her 'instructions' end.

The look she fixes you with is just this unashamed smoldering, her body language this contradictory kind of lazy - cool, like her night was going exactly the way she planned but she still had places to be.

"It depends," she replies, one slender finger curled around the stem of her martini glass - which historically, is a drink she hates. "Who's asking?"

"Just me," you offer, letting the gesture and your tone leave it up to her. And then slowly, perhaps awkwardly: "ostensibly a complete and utter stranger who knows a gorgeous woman when he sees one - and who could never pass up a chance to see how the rest of her is."

"Smooth."

"I guess it is, considering you didn't immediately run for the exit."

Hyewon nearly snorts.

"Hard not to." She tilts her head back at you, assessing. Her cheeks are rosy pink. "A handsome thing like you doesn't usually buy themself a girl's time with flattery -"

"Buy your time or your drinks?" you tease, and you can tell she wants to roll her eyes - but she keeps them carefully lowered. Eyelashes dipping down like blackened fans.

Hyewon shifts slightly, resting her chin onto the heel of her wrist like she's leaning against an imaginary windowpane and tipping her face a little sideways. It makes you smile. "One gets the other, if you catch my meaning."

Maybe it takes you a little too long to lift your gaze off her lips to find her eyes, or off the sweeping curve of the hemline sitting high across her long legs, but she watches you for just a breath. It's a more telling moment that she pretends she doesn't know you.

"You can look at me if you like," and then without further preamble, she introduces herself with a slight tilt of the head and an expectant expression: "call me Hyewon."

You figure that if you've gotta say one word to get the ball rolling you want to say her name, and as a little revenge for forcing you to think on this scene and think on what to say, what your character would say, how exactly she wanted you to go about 'meeting' her in a hotel bar, how her fucking scenario's been building up in her head for god-knows-how-long (even though, in the scheme of the two of you and your relationship, it’s nowhere close to being the most demanding sex you've had), you reply simply with:

"Pretty."

It's satisfying, how she hesitates - pausing a little longer on your face to gauge exactly what you meant. Studying. But the next beat of your heart - or hers - is effortless, easy.

"I know. That's what my husband calls me."

"Husband?" You keep yourself from raising an eyebrow. "And I don't suppose I'm also... married?"

"Different day, different you."

"Meaning I have a wife or a mistress of my own," and you flick your wrist at the barkeep for a top-up of what's in front of Hyewon. "You're telling me I'm the kind of man who'd only settle for two."

It doesn't sound quite right, though Hyewon picks up on it. Doesn't let on. "Aren't men like you always? Charming to a fault, but always voracious - insatiable, especially with women like me."

"Women like you."

"Married women. Unavailable," she simpers, and in a practiced little motion, draws her hand out to where you can see it properly, this sparkle on her fourth finger that catches the lowlight of the bar. The diamond looks real - not that you'd actually know - and your stomach flexes up mid-somersault thinking about the financial impropriety for what amounts to a gag. A practical joke. Hyewon the comedian.

Still, you go with it and take her hand in yours, admiring. "What a pity." The glint off its faceted surface - Hyewon's watchful as she allows it.

"Isn't it," she agrees.

The more unnerving thing - besides how composed Hyewon can make herself be - is how the narrative quickly becomes a whole hell of a lot clearer with the context of marriage in play. She's mentioned it before: the infidelity thing, the way it leads to the raunchiest, filthiest bits she'll dare to explore. In some ways, her desire for the untouchable makes a lot more sense -

And maybe that's what had been nagging at your mind since she brought up the idea of playing the part: you always end up kissing in that stupid 'caught up' sort of way. With an intensity that's hard to beat. Even though you wouldn't ever cheat on her. Not in a million years. You'd watch her leave before doing anything like that.

But it's thrilling, almost, and even more thrilling that this isn't entirely improvisation: how well the two of you might actually play this off, as two total strangers to this illusory little roleplay that you'd normally say was your very last interest.

"But you know there's something I've come to appreciate about married men," Hyewon continues, her voice in this conspiratorial sort of hushed.

You blink, drawing her out.

"They know how to tie a knot."

There's the flirty wink, an upward flick of the chin that draws your eye to the span of her chest. To her body in that skin-hugging dress and your fingers entangled in hers - the gentle bump and shift of the bodies behind her, moving between the tables - Hyewon a queen of circumstance, playing to the moment as it bends; as her lips part in a pleased smile, red and smooth, almost innocent, and you can't help but imagine tasting her on your tongue, the force that'd take for her to yield when you finally got your hands in her hair.

(What a character, honestly.)

"Tell me something," you say, "why would a married woman, this pretty little thing like you, be all alone in a place like this - without her charming husband."

Hyewon's smile curls at the edges like smoke. "I never said he was charming."

You raise an eyebrow. "Good-looking, then."

"Never said as much either."

“Why are you with someone you find neither attractive nor charming?”

Hyewon makes a face, slightly pitied. “If that Isn’t what I’m asking myself everyday.”

"Hm." You narrow your eyes into something more quizzical than suggestive. It works on her anyway. "That doesn't feel too much like it's in character, Hyewon."

She shrugs, but it's that coy kind of shrug. She thinks you'll let her off easy - you usually do. All considered, she's the type who thrives off the chase and, as of today, so do you.

"But he is cute." Her expression is just this side of sweet, as she takes a dainty sip of her drink. Like the taste doesn’t bother her, like she isn't pretending she doesn't hate it with every fiber of her being. Like this is easy. "And maybe -" she quirks an eyebrow at you, withholding a smirk. "-you're right. Maybe, I was looking for someone cuter to fill the bill. And luck would have it, here he is."

So - apparently - her character doesn’t mind a little light infidelity.

Hyewon takes in the vague sense that the message wasn’t as clear as she might have liked, her forehead scrunching as she tries to convey - in a way that would communicate even to an airhead - some realization to play your part.

"Maybe it's the wrong question,” you start over, taking it from somewhere near the top, “what are you doing here, with me?"

That's when Hyewon graces you with one of the soft, slow kind of smiles: the kind that manages both an air of 'you dimwit' and 'good question'. Her fingertips barely graze yours but it's noticeably electric. Just enough to feel your pulse fluttering.

(You don't care that none of it’s real - Hyewon looks to you through thick eyelashes like a goddess of temptation and sin - and it makes something wicked coil up warm at the pit of your gut. A curious thrill and a recklessness that you have to admit feels a little nice - being the man trying to talk this woman into bed. The challenge and the buildup, the want to work for it. It's new. It's fresh. Lo-and-behold, it's kinda hot.)

When you catch her stare, she fidgets. So slightly, so briefly, your chest is on fire and you're barely into the pages of her plans, of this night ahead.

"Wish fulfillment, let's say," and that is no less true. "See it’s my husband."

"Mhmm."

"He respects me too much to do the things I'm going to ask you to do."

"Like?" you continue to prod.

Hyewon lets out the tiniest shiver of a sigh, like a trickle of cold water down the length of her spine. "Take a good guess."

You finish the rest of Hyewon's martini, slow. Savoring the warmth and bitterness sliding down the back of your throat. The night's young, sure - and if you're supposed to be spending it all wrapped around Hyewon's finger. This means you can take your time.

"Show me your room?" you propose, gesturing to the empty glass.

"I thought you'd never ask."

At your offering, she stands up and throws on her coat - long, double-breasted, chic - but only really just off her shoulders to have the hem hit her legs mid-thigh. One of her many personal quirks. Hyewon knows how to move like there aren't two eyes staring at her wherever she goes: not the awkward side-to-side of a girl who wasn't made to wear heels - a loping gait - nor the assured click, click of the taller kind that totter like it's all they've got going for them.

Something totally different: a little careless and a little haughty and an assurance of the highest confidence.

She winds an arm round yours like they do in movies, this parody of a leading lady - Hyewon not a seductress as much as she is someone who'll look the part just to convince you otherwise. There is a pretty big discrepancy, you find, between her bravado and her smile, her figure and her artistry - you couldn't act if you wanted to; meanwhile, she does whatever she damn well pleases. And somehow that doesn't even begin to cover the things that turn her on.

The two of you make for the stairs, winding up floor after floor until it's perfectly quiet, perfectly out of sight - hidden away from prying eyes and ears.

The silence of an empty hotel stairwell is thick - Hyewon's hand comes off the railing, as she takes to the wall and turns to face you. It's a gentle tug at the tie loose around your neck, barely any give before you're already there, holding her by the hips.

"Might've gotten us lost there," you whisper, as her finger plays at your chest and finds its way round the collar of your shirt. Your top button is already undone by the time you notice she's not fond of it. "The elevators would've gotten us where we're headed faster."

"Don't worry." She hums, leaning in close - like a magnet, like gravity. "You're getting the scenic route."

"Anything to stall the inevitable," you tease, but it isn't a thread she seems interested in developing.

"Something like that."

Hyewon shifts her weight back onto her right foot, her skirt riding up just barely. The dip between her inner thighs and the smooth curve of her leg is open and bare to your sight, her dark stockings like an unspoken challenge: the panties, lacy, loose, no crotch.

And it gets... indecent, the way your lips connect, how you realize half-way into that kiss, she's still smiling. It isn't any one way that does it; maybe it's the clever use of her tongue, or that particular position you've coaxed her up against the stairwell wall that makes it seem like Hyewon can't be any more in danger - it's too much to handle and your mouth goes slack on the reflex of an apology; her hand has a hold on you by the jaw and it won't budge.

"My husband," she murmurs into you, the trace of the words ghosting into the breath between the both of you. "Never lets me."

"What," you rasp, barely recognizing your own voice, your hand heavy on her side - the very real fear that you might tip over a banister because Hyewon's got her heel half-way into the back of your calf and any less bracing would bring you down. Your thoughts are a fog, with her cheek in one hand and your knee already up between her thighs.

"His wife," she almost swallows down, kisses turning chaste because maybe it's just easier to gently peck out her intentions, how she looks to you with dark eyes, heavy-lidded and wanting, a thumb trailing down the plane of your cheek. It'd feel like pity if you weren't thinking exactly the same.

You try to finish it for her:

"She likes it rough."

"No." Her nose traces yours before she connects you again - gentle and slow, and a shudder rolls all down the expanse of her shoulders; you think you have it about right. Until she makes the slightest adjustment and her grip in your hair turns agonizing, perfect and burning on the edge of too tight - too much. You are straining against the wall of a hotel hallway and she's saying, "not rough."

She kisses you. Hard. Until you gasp for the stolen air in her lungs.

"Filthy," she manages against the heat and sting at the side of her cheek.

(Damn.)

Your voice has gone and lodged itself firmly somewhere between her lungs - but there's something that says she knows. That you've got it in you, the brimming potential that might just say everything you ever wanted but couldn't figure the right way to put it.

It's the tone of her voice or the spark in her eyes, but one moment into the next - you're caught in this pull - like gravity's increasing tenfold at her will; her heartbeat's so strong you swear you feel it against your ribs as she's demanding:

"Messy. Dirty. A little uninhibited," and the obvious thrill of that must flare up like lightning under her skin - the way it makes her moan, soft and breathless: "fuck me like my husband doesn't."

She’s not even waiting for the comfort of the room yet, which in hindsight is probably checking more of Hyewon's many boxes - it's the sex in public thing, the fear of discovery thing, the desire to have you ravish her out where anyone can come upon you sort of thing - the thought of which has your jaw go a little slack too. Her leg up is coiled up around your hip, your fingers tangled in her hair and sliding up the length of her thigh, until you're fucking kneading up her ass and drawing out that desperate whine in her.

"Fuck," she exhales into your shoulder - a hand on the metal bannister to brace against those little circles you start to rub inside her, pushing - slowly - one, two, three knuckles deep, testing - before drawing back, and plunging forward again. This ache, slow and purposeful, pressing just enough into her until there's a wet sort of friction that has your hand slick all down your wrist.

It never takes long, with your fingers on her clit, fingers inside her, a palm covering the moans out of her mouth -

She cums just like that.

Whining and broken and bent under you, and with an elbow hard against her ribcage to make the breaths come shallow.

"Stay quiet for me, sweetheart," you find yourself murmuring, as your teeth graze the shell of her ear - the short burst of hair and silky strands across the back of her neck; you're undoing the neat ribbon tied round the length of her hair and letting her waves settle on her shoulder in time for you to swallow down the sound of her sighs, the tension in her lips, and the frantic jolt when your fingers push through the wet, heat of her pussy again, merciless and quick. You have to be careful; she nearly bites your fucking tongue out.

"Can't." Her jaw's tight on it, the slight staccato to her breathing, murmuring and slightly dazed: "if we get caught, someone will see. Someone will notice."

Her next exhale is more shaky. "Anyone could see us like this," with just her toes curling and her stomach tensing on every second beat. Your grip leaves a bruise. "Please-"

"We're not supposed to be doing this at all, are we? If you've got a husband waiting somewhere?"

You hear yourself, and it sounds sorta degenerate, though in all the right ways, you figure, like something straight out of one of Hyewon's romance novels, the dirty, smutty ones that she swears up and down she simply reads for the plot, but the dazed, hazy kind of mood they get her worked up into suggest otherwise.

You trace the rough pad of your thumb over her pussy, this delicate, ghost of a touch. One you'd have to strain to even tell if it was there or not until she whines - eyes screwed shut like she doesn't mean to, just does. The sound of it bouncing around the stairwell.

And then, all this wet: her skirt's ridden all the way up to her stomach, damp and near-transparent with slick, and you can just imagine the puffy pink between her legs - between her stockings in the afterglow of an orgasm, spent and sensitive and sore and wanting for more. Your eyes linger a little too long -

"I shouldn't let you," she manages, half a moan on it - one of her heels comes up the stair you're standing on and the way Hyewon clings onto you for balance says enough, but still, she demands, with all the strength her throat allows: "make it fast. You're lucky I let you see me like this at all -"

And she cuts off abruptly, looking at you.

(She'll play coy for a while longer. Which, Hyewon being Hyewon, will look like as much an effort as her sprawl out on the bed for you is.)

"The room," you say to her, harshly, "where is it."

"Four more floors."

Room 1014 as it turns out is like every other room you've ever been in, each one perhaps a little more identical than the last - except this one has Hyewon sitting in your lap while you get comfortable on the bed, and there's also the way she looks in the mirror above the headboard, the desperation in her stare, right back into the reflection.

"What all," she says, "do you want to do to me?"

This time - no explicit instructions - just an implication. You have to figure it out.

See, the image of her is like every fantasy rolled into one, wearing this thin black bra that has her breasts just about spilling over. They're amazing - the color and shape of her skin. Soft. Cradled between the cups like a godsend, and maybe that's why it drives her a little crazy how good you look biting down the ridge of her breast and flicking your eyes back up to catch her expression.

It has you feeling, if nothing else, a little ‘adventurous,’ too.

Her belly tenses on a heavy sigh and it's one hell of a thing to have Hyewon staring you down, like you're an animal or an idiot, with her eyes flashing and a thinly veiled anger in the purse of her lips. There's a thousand things she'd like to do to you - for you to do to her - but it's about the predicament: the silk necktie she'd pulled off you as you both stumbled through the door has ended up around her wrists, pinning her arms behind her back in a way that suggests a loss of control. Just the mere suggestion of a little playacting, but she's almost keening.

You feel the touch of her right calf keep rising - curving down your waist, hooked behind the small of your back - her thighs smooth, and a hot line along your sides.

"I should fuck that pretty mouth of yours," you say against the shell of her ear, because you know better than anyone, the very concept gets her wet. Uncomfortably so.

And she leans her head against your temple like she'd love it. You could be imagining the little whimper as she clenches up round nothing - until a growl escapes the back of her throat and she's saying -

"Is that how you're going to cum? With me on my knees and nothing else? Cover my pretty face? How you’ll completely ruin me?. You’re more creative than that."

“I don’t know that I am.”

Her hips move to find some friction where there isn't any until you give her some, pulling your cock out through your pants and feeling it brush, once, twice against the seam of her. Hot, and hard. Ready. And if she only tried a little, the angle was made perfectly to slot your head in, but neither of you move. She doesn't yield.

"Let me fuck myself on you," she suggests, strained, almost pleading. "Then perhaps I will."

You could take her like she is. Any which way. But this is about getting a particular reaction - one that'll leave her spent and trembling - and nothing like that will happen without a little bit of preparation and prelude. You want to watch her writhe for hours. Until she forgets she's playing a character at all, until she's panting your name and whimpering for release, her cheeks burning.

But at least it gets her writhing on you, the heat and press of her body as she leans in close, your eyes locking:

"Get your cock inside me-" the urgency in her voice. "-fuck me right now, this second-"

"Say it again."

"Fill me with your perfect cock." The words land right on your lips, frayed at the edges as the tether to her control slips another notch. "Push my thighs apart until you break me," Hyewon tells you - and then with her legs twisted up in the comforter, the creaking mattress and the sweat on the sheets: she rolls her hips like they're pleading for it.

"Pushy."

"Gentle's got no appeal for us."

"Apparently not," you reply - but then it's suddenly a lot easier, to slide one hand in Hyewon's hair, and grip at the knotted silk wrapped tight 'round her wrists to hold her. There's no hiding the subtle arching of her spine, how the pressure off her arms pulls her chest in or makes it all the more comfortable, she doesn't let on, she'll probably keep pretending she doesn't like this, that she hasn't always wanted -

You run your tongue over her collarbone and thrust up inside her, once - a warning that you're not giving in to her quite yet.

The smile that runs her lips is brittle. Like her patience isn't what it used to be - she makes a quiet little noise, pained. A flash of discomfort. But there's a moan and a curse out of her:

"Like that. Harder."

"What does harder mean?" you ask, with a deliberate repetition in motion, thrusting upward, forcing her hips to shift a few degrees further back - her knees clenching around the sheets as you're met with no give - Hyewon's resistance through a dark smile, and her grip slackened in her hands, despite you keeping a fist wound tight in the hair on the back of her head, tightening the other around her restraint.

Her throat flinches: this shudder.

She takes a couple heaving, open-mouthed breaths, before she has it in her to glare at you again.

"Harder-" The way her mouth shapes around the word gets the better of you - cute little cupid's bow in pink, full and swollen and pursed up as if in pain. Or desire. Or both, the way her head is tipped back, hair half undone - an idea is already coiling at the back of your mind. "-until I can't stand."

"Or talk?"

And when your hand loosens on her wrists, her posture slumps like it's relief, that you're finally going to move along in a direction she's getting some satisfaction from -

Hyewon shakes her head in a moment that's almost blissed.

"You," her voice breaks on the tail end, "fucking wish you could shut me up that easily -"

In a motion almost gentle, you twist the length of hair down around her, from her scalp to her jaw, and wrap it around a hand. "Let's see if you'll change your mind, shall we."

There's a sharp draw of air in past her lips, just one sound, not a word. No proper rebuttal. She bites down, teeth clicking.

So you pull.

And this isn't some revelation, that Hyewon's cunt is heaven. Slick and tight, the fit around your cock and the gasp escaping the base of her throat - that isn't new. You've been here countless times, fucked her past her breaking point, beyond what should reasonably satisfy her or satisfy you, but that still doesn't take away from this incredible, heady rush that pulses through your entire body. It never stops getting better, not inch-after-fucking-inch the way you're bottoming out inside Hyewon's body and feel how hard the rest of her muscles tense up in the contact, how her pussy tightens and quivers, and grips around the entirety of your cock, the briefest taste of pleasure and release before it's pulled back just out of her reach - overstimulated, until Hyewon cries out.

You expect, predict the fight, the whimpers that spill out of her mouth with every slap of your skin and the breathless way she begs, pleads, like she'd rather her pride take it from her than have your fingers tug her hair up, right out of her scalp, with your arm locked around her lower waist. With your cock pumping faster, faster and a pressure, hot and inescapable, right there - the friction building - the slippery-wet heat sliding along your shaft with every stroke until you bottom out and her next exhale is a sob.

A goddamn fucking sob and the warm gush of liquid down her thighs - all on you. You fingers are pressed into her ass, pulling onto you, steading her bounce - and Hyewon finds her breathing uneven, as you smear wet across the curve of her backside, rubbing circles into her lower back as you catch up on the rhythm she'd lost.

"This tight little cunt, huh," you tease, and she nods so desperately it seems like she might snap. Like she might cry again and this time for real, a drop of her eye color past the blush, streaking down her cheek. You have the wherewithal to remember your character, your blocking, your lines: "this is what your husband won't do? Won't fuck you on every piece of furniture until you're a ruined fucked-out mess? Doesn't have the decency to work over his little slutty-wife until she's passed out, dripping with cum?"

Hyewon's fingers curl up into two balls of white knuckles and she chokes on her reply. "He won't."

"Tell him. He has a hot and dirty little piece of ass right under his own roof-"

"You think," and the string of words trails off when you manage to grind in, at this angle that has her reeling, trembling at every shift and jerk in momentum. Your knuckles drag against her soft and giving curves, almost gripping at her in the attempt to hold her down on you. "-my husband isn't enough."

"Well you wanted me to fuck the domestic housewife out of you," you murmur, taking two greedy handfuls of the ass bouncing in your lap, rubbing your palms along her hips, up and around the shape of her abdomen and her ribcage like you'd map it, memorize it. She wants this, you know this: your palms come around and over and brush your thumbs against her rising gooseflesh - she's putty in your hands. "No strings attached, remember, a one night kind of thing-"

"My husband loves me."

"Then it seems-"

"He makes me cum with his hands alone."

Your jaw works tight - Hyewon's cunt feels as good wrapped around you as she says your cock feels making a mess of it.

"Tells me he'd die happy hearing me moan his name."

"Oh, because no matter where he goes," you say, fingers wrapping under and around the back of her neck, forcing her to look you in the eye, "no matter what, your sweet cunt's the only one his mouth is ever watering for, isn't that right-"

A blink, lashes thick and feathering down and over the pools of her pupils as you have a hold of her tight.

You're having a hard time with this, and you want to give it to her, the toe-curling-crescendo that would see her cumming at your will, or worse, losing the plot completely and your entire setup falling away from the charade of characters you'd both conjured. But she looks at you like she's never loved anyone like she loves you, the naked, barefaced devotion, the tenderness - a quick breath, a second - and the game is suddenly something far more personal, a truth. It isn't exactly fair: how your heart stutters. How much her heartbeat makes your pulse flutter, the electrifying rush you get when you fuck roughly up into her tight, wet cunt and make her bite down on nothing in the throes another orgasm.

You barely have a second to think of something coherent, let alone an out before she kisses you. If that isn’t totally disarming. So you move her into the next, flipping her onto her stomach, and she does nothing to fight back: Hyewon just lies there - the side of her face plastered to the comforter - exhausted, and gives a willing, malleable moan at the contact where your hand digs into the shape of her upper thighs, spreading them out as her elbows struggle behind her back.

"Here, baby," you say, finally unwinding the silk knot between her wrists, "I'll have you like the little desperate fucktoy you really are."

There's the bite to her bottom lip, the whole five seconds it takes for her hands to spread out and twist her fingers tight in the bedspread, before she whines - full-throated - and rocks back onto her toes to arch her back.

(See, the thing: Hyewon likes being fucked within an inch of her life. On all fours and pleading for more.)

With your free hand, you reach around her to run over her inner thighs.

Hyewon brings her grip to the bottom of the bed frame, for purchase, or leverage, you don't know, and in one simple motion, you slip your cock back deep inside her pussy.

You curse under your breath.

Hyewon fucking collapses.

It's a dangerous combination, having her begging and you nearly fully clothed while she's wearing barely more than this thin strip of black silk around her waist and a stocking on one leg, but you can't help it - she looks good this way.

"Fuck," she spits out, voice lost when your hips find hers in this wet, sloppy crash of skin that gets louder, faster and more punishing on each beat. "Like that, oh my God-"

Her whimpering only gets worse - when you start only pulling out halfway, until she's gasping like she can't breathe. You think there isn't a more wonderful, more obscene, more gorgeous thing than Hyewon spread out in front of you - the curve of her spine defining each and every one of the lines, dips, and rises of her body - and you would thank God or some higher deity right about now.

It’s fuck and please and every other little pliant utterance of “fuck my brains out, use me, make me beg, I'm so turned on right now I'll let you fuck me anyway you want - harder, faster, I can do whatever, just show me how, make me, push and fuck me hard until I'm raw and aching - god - like this, let me cum, please, let me - keep fucking going, oh my god, please, like this, fuck, just like this-"

You do thank God, actually - there's mirrors everywhere in this room, and you can catch the circular swing of her tits every time you force a curse and a sigh out of her: the bared teeth and the effort to push herself back on her arms, bracing for every thrust, fighting and fumbling to keep her balance and to make sure you have to pound her into the mattress until her cries reach a pitch.

Then, the thing you'd learned she'd never ask for but oh-so-dearly-wanted - you open your palm and bring it down hard on her backside. The impact of your flesh to hers, a crack, a moan and her whole body flexes - and it's then you do it again: matching the hit to the visible red outline of your handprint. The third time, she hisses, biting into the bed sheets so as not to cry out.

"Right? This is what you want? To be fucked and used?"

She doesn't reply with words, because she may in fact be biting her teeth into the cotton threadcount at the end of the bed, but she lifts her ass higher, angles her hips like she's waiting for more. Her brow is creased in a smile, even though a frustrated groan escapes her lips - so you give her that again, and again, until the back of her thighs are turning red and she's clawing one hand back along the length of your legs - pushing and pulling.

"You want me to fuck you senseless, sweetheart?"

And then, so needy and desperate she's just saying the first word that come to mind:

"More-"

"-when I've been railing into you so hard and your husband probably knows already, has to have seen, maybe he's listening at the door- oh," and your whole train of thought comes to a sudden halt upon seeing Hyewon's hand land on the perfect round of her ass, fingers pulling her soft, reddening skin taut, up and away from where your cock is disappearing between her cheeks - to allow more of your shaft into her hot, wet cunt - allow you to fuck her and fuck her up - allow the length of your shaft to slide deeper and hit all the spots that will send her reeling into this orgasm and the next.

Your gaze is stuck however, not to her curves rippling in excess, the damage of your thrusts pounding her body to ruin, or the look of flawless pleasure twisting up the pretty features of Hyewon's reflection, but instead it's the fucking flash and catch of the diamond that adorns her fourth finger. Even when you have her completely helpless, bent on your mercy, she's still wearing that promise, that intention to have and to hold, and you think, for at least a second, this whole roleplay thing isn't the worst idea: being a surrogate to fulfill someone's wildest fantasies. It might even be enough to make you hard all over again - the thrill and the debasement of your girl, lines quickly blurring between the Hyewon you'll take home and put back together and the Hyewon you're fucking pouding into a mattress - the here and now.

"Fuck, Hyewon," you find yourself swearing - steadying the hips rolling back in your palms, bending down until the flat of your chest meets her back, until your nose is in her hair, the long strands sticking to her lips and the back of her ears. Until you feel her shaking as you suckle against her skin, at her neck, hot kisses between the shoulder blades, finding a grip in her hands. Her grip in yours - as she's muffling these exquisite, needy sounds; she is perfect. Hyewon is perfect.

The first time you cum, it's this hot splatter of white: smeared across her ass and the crease of her lower back. It feels almost dirty to think that's just how you feel about it; your heart is stuttering in its erratic pace, but your eyes are drawn and enraptured, the sight of it all.

Then second, maybe your favorite: when she slips her hand to your aching shaft and simply takes you back inside her. This soft, wet, inviting heat that pulls you back to her.

"God- please," her head tips back, you feel the arch of her back through her ribs and stomach, the way her breath catches as you slide your cock through her creamed-out-cunt so much harder and smoother. "It feels so fucking good, baby," and there are tears now, welling in the corner of her eyes, "don't stop, God don't ever stop-"

She can barely finish her sentence before she's cut off, a moan ripped from the bottom of her lungs and a gasp straight from the pain-pleasure that has your balls slapping against her pussy every other stroke. And suddenly she's sitting, or rather, squirming into your arms, her face buried in your shoulders as she starts riding you, and not-quite crying and saying again - again, the whole filthy lot of things: about her wanting you to fill her, to plug her up with your cock. Every thrust she whines in your ears, clutching onto the fabric of your shirt and making a mess of herself in you.

It's this wild and reckless thing that makes its way around the room, on every surface and bit of furniture. You fuck her over the counter, let her ride you on the sofa, the chair, the two of you managing to find some sort of assistance in the wall even, the door frame, her legs up your sides and the slippery-sticky-heat of your mouths connecting and everything that isn't exactly meant to support that kind of strain buckling and nearly giving way - once when the wooden joints in the door-frame shift, once when she begs for release in that frantic voice that doesn't sound a thing like her. And the way she comes apart under you after, on top of you - is even sweeter; you imagine there's this endless possibility for love, for pleasure, a whole world in bundled in the notion that you could do it for her again, that it was always a question of Hyewon letting you have her that way, and the rest was mere foreplay - a stretch.

Only, on the bed again, Hyewon shivers beneath you, this full-body response, and you've got her stretched as she opens up - that the slightest of movements has her already whimpering out "fuck," and "please," and "right there," and "fuck you're going to make me come like this. You're so good, just fucking," and "more, harder, please, you feel so fucking good-"

The desperation for release is so palpable in her that it's curling into your stomach as your press Hyewon's knees into the points and edges of her shoulders and fold in her half - this perfect angle of leverage. Fucking her like she's yours and no one else's - the absolute delight of her cunt, wet, hot, and desperate to milk you empty - her body quaking at the force of each thrust, and the hungry grind of your hips into hers. Her fingers digging and knotting in the sheets around you until her knuckles pale, and your own grasp on her skin threatens to bruise.

"Inside me," she gasps out, because she can feel that edge just as well as you, "I want you to fill me, just cum inside, God, you always feel so amazing, fuck, like that, cum inside me, cum in me-"

"How could I say no, especially when you ask so sweetly," you tell her, kissing into her smile, "can you take another? Baby, look at me, look into my eyes, yeah? Look right back at me."

Her eyes blink and roll back a bit, almost losing focus and her eyelashes flutter - the creases in her brow, the elegant lines of her face locking up in the overwhelming tension, then, a peak.

And a demand, meekly asking you to fill her up. Until there's nothing left. "Cum," Hyewon moans, "for the love of fuck-"

You push her past her climax until she's practically weeping, sobbing through a litany of nonsense and slurred, unfinished sentences and almost howls, struggling beneath your weight and coaxing her fingers over the surge at the base of your spine. Before a hot liquid mess bursts out of you, into the deepest reach of Hyewon's throbbing cunt - cumming inside her, while you hold her down, not allowing her to move as your hips lock and you're both left groaning in utter agony.

(This was the thing you'd told her once - cumming inside her was almost always worth the effort it took to clean it all back out. You like the possessive aspect of it, maybe the slight humiliation, and more than anything, she'll just melt: once she's gone past the immediate discomfort. If anyone could really learn to get off on feeling a little filthy, it's the two of you. And she knows that too, Hyewon's eager little pout intimates, as she blinks down to watch where the two of you connect.)

You don't say much for the next while. If there's a line where this particular escapade blends back into your normal life, where the Hyewon curled up in the sheets is your own girl and not some half-conceived entity that didn't fit the reality of the rest of the evening, or how you see Hyewon everyday, even then, it’s not clear.

She's utterly boneless - this fragile, dazed thing that runs her palms all the way around her breasts and pulls up her stockings a little further up the line of her hips, as if you weren't going to peel them back and slip them all the way off when you had the wherewithal to handle it. But the strength in her isn't entirely lost either, she looks ready to burst: this air of pride and smugness - victory, right in her grin, which isn't totally surprising. Hyewon usually gets an odd satisfaction out of your participation in whatever hedonistic or obscene thing it is she wants to try.

This was her fantasy - maybe not a deeply rooted or unattainable one, but she'd worked out some kinks of hers and has walked away a far better woman for it, knowing what a sight she is to you. Like this.

"That was... fun," Hyewon eventually says, collecting articles of clothing strewn about the room.

Her shoes are one of two sets in the shoe-rack, but she'll have to look around and under the bed to find her dress. It would probably be some strange level of easy to play dumb and wait until she comes to the conclusion on her own that she should bend down and check down there, but she looks a little too worn out to really be interested in her clothes, more like, ready for the next part.

"We should do it again," her gaze lands, intent, and serious, back to you.

"Which part?" you have to ask, because you're probably still, a little slow on the uptake.

A small laugh, the sly smirk to herself; she knows she has you wrapped so perfectly around her finger, ready to bend to whatever game she can come up with: "whichever part you like."

#hyewon smut #izone smut #izone hyewon smut #kpop smut #male reader #capslocked kinkvember

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bunnysbrainrot · 7 months

Text

Blood Flow

Kinktober Prompt: Choking

Relationship: dbf!Joel Miller x Reader

Content: [i was going for something sensual and i failed.] Explicit sexual scenes, fingering, choking, squirting, praise kink, Joel’s kinda rough, teasing. No outbreak AU.

Summary: You curiously tread into the realm of choking, but you have no clue why people think it feels ‘good’. With Joel’s help, you realize that there’s simply a right way to do it.

A/N: pay attention to the last line. it implies exactly what you think it does. **ALSO! part 3 for this is out, it’s called Daddy’s Girl!

this scene is so weird, why is he choking her???

Your fingers flitted across your phone screen, texting as you watch a new show. In this scene, the two main characters finally broke their tension, and things were growing heavy. You watched the actor’s hand wrap around his costar’s throat, watching how her face contorted in bliss.

Cause it feels good, sweetheart, Joel replied.

Bringing your own hand to your neck, you pressed against your windpipe and choked, like really choked, but it didn’t feel like you thought it would. And your face definitely did not make those same expressions as the woman in the show.

Clearing your throat, you replied to Joel. A few years ago, this kind of conversation would earn you an intervention with your parents. This was your dad’s best friend, and you shouldn’t be texting him about being choked, of all things.

But fuck, was texting Joel a wonderful time.

A single message could have you squeezing your thighs together. Every baby girl, sweetheart, and honey was imagined in his voice as if he were there, whispering them into your ear. You would imagine his fingers dancing across your skin as he showered you with those sweet pet names.

tried it on myself, and i can confirm that it feels awful. coughing my lungs out right now

Joel read your text and let out a hearty chuckle, quickly replying back. He knew you were a tad… inexperienced with things like this, and that you wouldn’t ask just anyone about this. He had you wrapped around his finger, as you did him.

Baby doll, you’re probably pressing on your windpipe. It’s a little tricky to do it on yourself

You groaned at the text, still frustrated at your little mishap. The reply you gave him was rather bold, but you anxiously sent it anyway.

maybe you could show me

The two of you had flirted a lot more since you came back home from college. Four years of hard schoolwork had you taking a break back home with your parents to choose your next big step in life. At first it started small - little compliments on your clothes, on your intelligence, on how much you’d come into your own. Your glances at Joel lasted too long to be friendly, and it didn’t help when you ran your foot along his leg under the table at big family dinners.

In short, you were driving each other absolutely wild, pulling the tension taught between you, waiting for it to snap.

But Joel wanted to go slow. This was dangerous territory, and he needed to take his time.

Maybe I could

You stared blankly at the phone screen, reading over the message with a fluttering heart behind your ribs. A wave of warmth spread over you with a beeline between your thighs. You clenched your legs together as you texted Joel back.

right now?

J: Door’s unlocked, I’m just watching TV. If you want to join me we can watch that show you were telling me about

Like an alarm went off you shot out of bed, hurrying to your dresser and closet to find a more impressive outfit. Joel wouldn’t care all that much - he liked seeing you in anything. It didn’t matter how much or little you had on, you were always beautiful to him.

headed out now!

Joel have a swift reply that buzzed in your pocket.

Someone’s eager.

You trekked over to the neighborhood next to yours, practically skipping with each step up to Joel’s house. Thankfully, his daughter, Sarah, would be at a friend’s house this evening, leaving you and Joel all to yourselves.

Joel’s head perked up when he heard you knock. He, almost too excitedly, shot up from the couch and headed to the front door.

He was an effortlessly handsome man. And now, in a simple pair of sweatpants and v-neck shirt, he looked more stunning than ever. For you, it also didn’t matter what he wore - he always looked handsome.

“Hi,” you said, offering him a small smile.

Joel raised an arm and leaned against the doorframe. His lean muscles shifted under his tan skin, hardened by those years under the Texas sun, and caught the light from inside to accentuate his bicep. He caught you ogling, and laughed.

“Sweetheart, I’m not just eye candy,” Joel’s voice was soft after the long day he had, “You comin’ in, or what?”

Your smile widened as you stepped in, dipping under Joel’s arm to step in the living room. He had already closed the blinds preemptively to shield yourselves from any prying eyes. You sat on the couch and waited for Joel to join you.

He slowly made his way over, “So, what show were you watchin’?”

You sighed dramatically, “Well, now it’s just embarrassing. We can watch something else, instead.”

Joel shook his head at your offer, gesturing to the TV, “Not embarrassing at all. ‘Sides, I got a plan for it.”

He snatched the remote from the arm of the couch and chose a spot right next to you. After a series of questions, you began to play the show you’d seen, found the right episode, and played the scene in question.

Joel remained silent the entire time, glancing between you and the TV. His stare bore into you, but it was unclear as to what was going through his mind.

But the scene, to your relief, ended, and the shyness you’d felt could be over. Joel paused the show in the middle of the next scene and finally met your eyes.

“Alright, I think I know where ya went wrong,” he commented. You cocked an eyebrow at him.

“It’s all about controlling the blood flow, not pressin’ on the windpipe. That’s a one way ticket to the man upstairs,” Joel laughed and brought his hand to your cheek, cupping your face carefully. His thumb passed over your cheekbone before he shifted down toward your neck.

He placed his thumb and index finger on either side of your throat, right under your jaw. The pressure was uncomfortable at first, pressing into you in a way that sparked some faint nausea. You cleared your throat and swallowed to dull the feeling.

“Pressin’ here,” his grip tightened, “reduces the blood flow. It’s still a lil’ hard to breathe, but it doesn’t risk your safety.”

A lightness began to creep through you as Joel pressed into your throat. Blackness clouded the edge of your vision, blurring Joel’s features, though you could barely make out a lazy smile.

After a few long seconds, he let go, and you could freely breathe once again. The rush of blood back to your brain throbbed at your temples, though the brief headache was nothing compared to the rush of pleasure it delivered.

To your surprise, the rush went straight to your core, leaving you shifting your legs together.

Joel leaned forward and planted a kiss on your cheek, his voice was a low whisper.

“See? Feels good when someone does it right, don’t it?”

You nodded, still held securely by his hand around your throat. His lips traveled across your face, to your temples, to your jaw, and finally finding your own, flush and fluid with your own movements. Joel tightened his grip again, and the same rush came flowing through. It was tricky to keep kissing Joel at the pace he set. Instead, your mouth slacked open as a moan escaped you, swallowed eagerly by Joel.

He spoke slowly against your lips, nipping at them between his words.

“How is it, baby doll? Still feel good?”

It was wonderful. Had you not messaged him about this, you would’ve been completely in the dark about this whole new world of pleasure. So wonderful, in fact, that you could feel a new slickness in your sex, about to soak into your panties. Instinctively you ground your hips, pathetically pressing your aching pussy into nothing substantial.

Joel moved his other hand lower, raking over your shifting thighs, “Tell me, sweet girl, does it make you feel good down here?”

His hand cupped your clothed sex, pressing against your slit and slowly massaging your core. Your breath trembled as you gave him another nod - a small sign of permission to take things further.

“Joel… Joel,” you whispered, fighting against his grip on your throat. Amidst the rush going through your head you could barely hold onto what he was saying, let alone reply coherently.

His lips had wandered to your jaw, peppering a trail of kisses around his rough fingers, “What is it, baby girl? Tell me whatcha need.”

You choked out your reply, “In.. inside.”

A low laugh danced across your skin, “That’s my girl. Always needing something fillin’ her up. ‘Least when I’m involved, anyway.”

He pressed harder against your aching sex - the abrasion of the fabric turned you into a whimpering mess in a matter of seconds. You needed more. You needed him.

Joel groaned against your skin when you tugged his hand past the waistband of your pants, pushing him lower toward your core.

“Need me to make you feel good, sweet girl?” his voice thrummed through your chest. You nodded, urging your lungs to take in sweet, fresh air amidst the constriction. Joel loosened his grip ever so slightly, letting you catch your breath.

He hummed against your jaw as he adjusted his hand with his fingers teasingly at your entrance. A single finger played with your wet hole, swirling around carefully, not fully giving you what you need. Not yet.

You mewled a slurred version of his name, eyes rolling back when his grip tightened around your throat.

Joel’s fingers didn’t stop, but rather pushed further, sinking past your soaked folds and into your tight pussy. A small whimper from you made him smile, carefully eyeing you as he moved his fingers, curling them up to brush your sweet spot.

“Joel… fu-fuck,” you choked.

His fingers plunged deeper into your warm cunt, curling harshly to draw a long-awaited moan. Until now, Joel hadn’t had the joy of hearing you utter anything above a whisper.

You cried out, straining against his grip, but was sent back to fighting for that sacred blood flow back to your brain.

You brought your hand up to meet the one at your neck, tapping against the back of his hand. A beat passed before Joel realized the mistake. He swiftly released you and cradled your head, slowing his movements between your thighs.

“Sorry,” you rasped, “that was just a little too hard. I couldn’t really make any noise without coughing.”

Joel leaned forward and pressed his lips to yours. He broke away with the softest tone you’d heard all night.

“You ain’t got nothin’ to apologize for, honey,” he replied, spreading his kisses to your cheeks. “Got a little too ahead of myself there.”

He kissed you until you were left breathless and panting. By now your lips were plump from the bites and nips Joel had given them.

“Maybe we could try a different position, whaddya say?”

After a beat of thought, you nod in agreement and follow his lead. He removed his hand from your pants, lightly sucking at his soaked fingers, and moaning at your taste across his tongue.

This was the closest he’d been to truly tasting you. Words escaped him as he tried to describe the feeling of heaven on his very lips.

You stood from the couch and watched Joel taste yourself on his fingers. He was completely entranced, and monitoring your every movement as you waited for his direction.

Darkness filled his eyes, “Y’might need to take those pants off, sweetheart. Need a good angle for this.”

Now right in front of his legs, you urged Joel to spread them apart and stood between them.

He took this as a silent request for his help. Joel gave you a smile and sat forward, letting his hands climb up your thighs, taking their sweet time to cover as much of them as he could.

Joel hooked his fingers on your waistband and gently tugged, unwrapping you like it was Christmas morning.

Your bottoms dropped to your ankles, and all was left was your soaked panties, the last barrier between Joel and what he’d wanted to see most. Joel leaned further, leaving a trail of kisses from your mid-thigh to your hip, alternating to the other side. Each touch of his lips set you ablaze. His gentle touches paled in comparison to the heat roiling through your belly, trickling right down to your aching pussy.

At long last he peeled your panties off of you, slowly sending them down your legs until they joined your pants. Your lower half was bare for him now; you were a gift unwrapped, the best present he could’ve asked for.

“Christ,” Joel muttered. His eyes scanned over your half naked form, giving you a curious look at your chest.

He wanted nothing more than to wander up there, letting his hands dip below the fabric and slide up to your chest. Your tits were selfishly hidden from him, with your perfect, perk nipples poking through, enticing him to search for more.

You wrapped your legs on either side of him, pushing Joel back against the couch so you could get into position. His legs stayed spread open, thus making you open yours across his.

Spread perfectly wide for whatever he had planned for you.

Joel cupped the back of your neck and pulled you in for another kiss, working his hands over your thighs in the process. You could feel a couple of damp fingertips from where he’d fingered you before. Those same fingers now crept toward your needy hole, teasing you ever so slowly.

You bucked your hips and positioned them over his hand, whining at the lack of touch.

“Joel, please,” you mumbled, keeping your lips in tandem with his own. Joel grumbled out a reply you couldn’t discern before a hand made its way to your throat.

Joel pressed down on either side of your windpipe to deliver that sweet head rush of elation.

“I’ve got you, baby girl, I’ll take care of you.”

And that, he did. His hands moved with pure greed at your neck and pussy, sending two fingers up into your tight cunt. You cried out against his lips as he slowly pumped into you.

“That’s it, sweet girl. Let it all out.”

You were relieved you could make at least a little noise. It was better than it was at home, where you’d spent countless nights touching yourself, moaning against your hand or a nearby pillow.

But here… here you could cry out as Joel touched you. You could freely show him how good he was making you feel.

You let out a soft whine, but it was not well-received by Joel.

“I wanna hear you, baby.”

A louder moan drew from your throat. Joel’s fingers curled inside of you, pressing into the spongy part right past your entrance. Your walls fluttered gently around his fingers, pulling him in further.

“Fuck, you’re tight,” said Joel, still mumbling against your lips. You offered him a smile, proud that your body was to his liking. It was all you’d hoped for, to be perfect for him.

“Not sure how this little pussy’s gonna handle me, though,” he continued in a cocky voice. “But I think you could do it.”

He curled his fingers harshly, causing you to slur your words together. Something about Joel, and harder, and please.

“Such a good girl. Bet you’d take anything I gave you, huh?”

You nodded slightly, constricted under his grip to move any further.

Joel pushed his fingers deeper, picking up his pace until the wet sounds of your ravaged cunt filled the room. Your juices flowed from your pussy and onto his hand, leaking down from his fingers to his palm, pooling your sweet slick before it trickled to the floor below.

His pace became relentless, though the grip on your throat loosened. You let out a shuddering moan as he furiously pumped his fingers, making your cunt squelch with the most obscene sounds you’d ever heard.

“Attagirl,” Joel praised, “Just keep still. I gotcha.”

The reassuring tone kept you conflicted - it totally contrasted from what he was doing to your body.

Fuck, if this is how it was with just his hands alone, you silently prayed that you could handle what else he could give you.

There was a new tightness in your abdomen, pooling around in your sex, but it was a deeper sort of pressure you’d never felt. It felt like…

“Joel,” you protested, “I think I gotta pee.”

He laughed against your lips, “Just work with me here, darlin’.”

You squirmed on his hand as this new sensation spread through your pussy. This kind of pressure wasn’t something you could’ve gotten from your own hand, let alone any toy.

No, this was the masterful work of Joel Miller’s fingers, unraveling you around him.

He struck deeper, twisting his wrist to get a better angle, curling each thick digit against your sweet spot. You choked on a gasp as the pressure in your abdomen built, threatening to break apart.

With a flurry of swift motion the tension broke, and a beautiful symphony sounded - the rush of your juices that poured onto his hand, the strangled moan that fell from your slacked mouth, followed by the pleased groan Joel drew out.

“What… hah… was that..?” you panted. Joel kissed your cheekbone as he worked you through your high.

“Did I just… did I sq-“ you could barely make out the word.

“You did. And you did such a good job, sweet girl.”

The praise roiled through your gut. A soreness flooded through your sex, trailing toward your cervix. You swallowed nervously at the thought of anything bigger, and what it could do to your insides.

Joel slowed his pace and released the hand that had been trained to your neck. You both worked through your climax, coming down smoothly to where you now laid slumped against Joel’s chest.

His hands still roved over your skin, gently kneading your ass and thighs as you caught your breath.

“How you feelin’, honey?” his Southern drawl intoxicated his words with a sickly sweetness.

You pressed your face into the crook of his neck a let out a small, content mmm, taking in his scent. The mix of his cologne and sweat sent something possessive through you, to have this all for yourself. It felt too selfish for that pining to be one-sided - for you to want him as much as you did, without knowing if he held the same ferocity about you as you did him.

“Thirsty.”

“I bet. That’ll take a lot outta ya - let’s get a glass of water and getcha cleaned up.”

You worked your legs off of his thighs and stood shakily. After sitting in that awkward position and having your senses scrambled, your knees buckled beneath your weight, desperately trying to hold your quivering thighs steady.

“Hold on, sweetheart, I’ve gotcha,” Joel said, swiftly standing on steady feet. You pouted at the unfairness - his hands tore at your sex and left you trembling while he was perfectly fine.

“You better not laugh at me,” you snapped, though the drained tone in your words had Joel chucking slightly.

He held you steady with both hands and led you toward the kitchen, “You look like you got a hip replacement.”

“You’re nearing that age, aren’t you?” you quipped. Joel gave you a firm smack on your ass as his reply.

“Better watch it, I don’t do well with brats.”

hi y’all! thank you so much for reading and supporting, and happy Kinktober!

If you’re looking for the part 3 of this, it’s called Daddy’s Girl! I would love if you gave it a read

ily xoxo

#fanfiction #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #dbf!joel #joel tlou #the last of us #tlou #bunny writes #kinktober #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal fanfiction #supernatural #pedro pascal

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toytle · 1 month

Text

happy birthday barry, hope this one doesn’t give you war flashbacks 🎉

redraw + remix of Flash: Rebirth vol. 4

[ID in alt text + below cut]

Fanart comic of Barry Allen’s birthday, page 1: Barry is rigid in shock as Iris pushes him towards his surprise birthday party. Along the side are panels of each guest wishing him a happy birthday as bloodied flashbacks play behind them of the moments when Eobard Thawne had murdered them.

Page 2: Panel 1 is a close up shot of Barry with a horrified expression, beset by a red background reminiscent of the bloodied flashbacks. He manages to get out the words: “Thanks… everybody….” Panel 2 is Barry walking away from the guests, touching his face in distress. He says, “Sorry. I’m really glad to see everyone… I just… Just gimme a minute….” One of the guests behind him suggests, “Maybe he’s a little shellshocked?” The red background continues to swarm him. Panel 3 is a closeup of Barry’s face as an off-screen voice says, “Hey, buddy….” His fingers slowly slide off his face as he looks up in its direction.

Page 3: Panel 1 reveals Hal Jordan holding a box and wearing a smile. He says, “Looks like I’m right on time.” The red swarm surrounding Barry doesn’t seem to touch Hal. Panel 2 is Hal handing Barry the box, which contains a model plane, as he says, “Happy birthday, Barry.” Barry takes it in his hands with a worn but blank expression. Panel 3 is much the same with Barry unmoving as he’s processing the exchange. Panel 4 is Barry suddenly giving Hal a fond, sarcastic smile as he says, “Great gift, Hal. I especially liked it when I gave it to you for your birthday two years ago.” The red swarm gradually dissipates from each panel, clearing up entirely in the last one.

Page 4: Simplified doodles of Hal and Barry stand in the large, empty space of the page. Hal has one hand in his pocket and the other gesturing in explanation. His expression is embarrassed but good-humored as he says, “Really? You sure? Uh… Haven’t been home in a long time, so….” Barry responds, “Too long… I’m just happy to see you, buddy.” He holds the gift close to himself with an innocent, close-eyed smile. An arrow points to him, reading: Literally snapped out of it to be a little shit. /end ID

#the flash #barry allen #iris west #hal jordan #james forrest #henry allen #westallen #halbarry #dc #detective comics #dc comics #dc fanart #comic #danart #blood #alt text #described #his most updated canon bday is may 13 but he’s too much of a pisces for me to accept that #trust that when it comes around i will still celebrate it tho lol

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afterglowsainz · 2 days

Note

Hey can I get a jealous Jude x female reader. Nothing too toxic lol l, it’s just some guys hitting y/n up on social media and somehow Jude sees the DMs and gets a little jealous. Then his petty self goes and posts a picture of him and his girlfriend on her ig or something petty like responds back with a “she’s busy bro”. Thanks 🫶🏻

jealousy | jude bellingham

obsessed with this concept already !!

summary: while you're getting ready to go out on a date with your boyfriend, he accidentally sees some dms he doesn't like and decides to do something about it

warnings: none

word count: 738

a/n: boring title booo i know i know i couldn't think of anything better :( i do hope you like the one shot tho it was fun to write about jealous jude <3

you were getting ready to go out on a date with jude while he was laying on your bed waiting for you. his phone was charging somewhere in the living room so you gave him yours to play a game so he doesn’t get bored. you were putting on your makeup while singing along to your playlist while he was building some villages or whatever it was that they do on clash royale. however, jude got distracted when an instagram dm pop up at the top of your phone, it was from this formula 1 driver that he knew was always liking your pictures, he didn’t knew he was dming you as well. he thought about opening the message, but he didn’t want to invade your privacy like that, so he simply looked at you.

“someone dm you.” he says.

his voice took you out of your little world and you place your gaze on him thought the mirror you were applying your makeup on.

“who?”

“lando norris.” he reads the name like he didn’t knew already.

“what does it say?” you hide a laugh and continue with your makeup routine.

jude opens the message and reads it out loud. it was obvious he was hitting on you by replying to a story you had posted earlier that day when you went to brunch with your friends and you felt cute.

“are you gonna answer?” he asks again, hints of jealousy on voice.

“not really, no.” you answer and go back to singing along and applying mascara on.

when jude goes back to the screen on your phone his thumb accidentally swipes left and your whole inbox is completely exposed to him. he didn’t meant to do that, but it really was an accident and he couldn’t help but see now that it was there, only he wished he didn’t have.

some of your dms were just conversations with your friends, but a lot of them were just guys replying to your stories and hitting on you, which made him even more jealous than before. you never replied to them, going as far as deleting some of the messages you received, but since you hadn’t checked your instagram since that afternoon a lot of dms from different guys complimenting you on your story were there for jude to find.

he frowns at the phone and takes a look at you, completely oblivious while doing your eyeliner. his eyes go back to the screen and he starts looking up some pictures that you took the week before of you two.

“do you mind if i post one of those pictures you took of us last week?” he asks out of nowhere. “so i can repost it on my story.” he clarifies.

you frown a bit confused because this is the first time he has asked you something like this, but after him seeing the other guy’s dm and feeling a bit jealous you connected the dots and smile amused.

“sure.” you say.

he nods and went to post a story with the two of you looking definitely like the couple you were. he spend a few seconds thinking about a good caption, landing on a simple “my boyfriend❤️”, very straight to the point. he also tagged himself big enough for everyone to see and posted the picture, a satisfied smile on his face.

when you were done with your makeup and ready to go, you approached him and sat on his lap, your phone still in his hand.

“let me see the picture.” you smiled. he shows you the story and you rolled your eyes, a bit amused at his possessiveness. “was that really necessary?” you point at the text and he just shrugs.

“i just feel like there’s a lot of people that don't know we’re together, you know? just wanna put it out there.” you nod, fighting the smile on your face and putting your arms around him.

“is that so?” you tease him, getting closer to him if that was even possible.

“yeah, lots of guys on your dms.” he confess. “they liked your selfie earlier.”

“hmm.” you answer. “i wouldn’t know about that, i only like one guy.” a treacherous smile takes over his lips and you take the opportunity to kiss him. “wanna go? we’ll be late to dinner.”

jude just nods and gets out of bed, never dropping your hand for a second.

#jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham #jude bellingham one shot #real madrid x reader #jude bellingham fluff #jude bellingham x y/n #football #football one shot #jude bellingham x you #jude bellingham fanfic #jude bellingham imagine #jb5 #jb10 #jude bellingham gif

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boba-beom · 4 months

Text

ೃ⁀➷ be good | CHOI SOOBIN NSFW

pairing: idol!soobin x f!reader

genre: fluff, smut | long ass one shot

summary: while you’re both abroad, soobin missed talking to moas but you also missed having some alone time with him. this night is the only night he’s had the room to yourselves, so you decide to play around with him while he goes live. and he lets you.

disclaimer: this only fiction and does not represent this idol in any way.

a/n: happy belated soobin day ♥ it was about time letting this out of the dungeon lol also the date for the weverse live is 2022.07.28. I hope you enjoy it with some references to the live itself hehe. thank you to my angel @junniieesbby for beta reading <3

wc: 3.1 k

WARNINGS UNDER CUT

warning(s): messy oral (m!receiving), face fucking, slight hair pulling, soobin cums multiple times, cum swallowing, use of affectionate terms (baby, princess, good girl, good boy), A LOT of praising, making out, perv!soobin, panty stealing soobs, penetration, soobin's biggggg, slight overstim, momentary cockwarming, whiny soobin:(((, unprotected sex (wrap it up and stay safe!!), boob sucking, soobin’s a lil messy but still so sweet.

"Hello MOAs! How are you guys?" Soobin's voice vibrates against your chest. You're laying on his legs under the duvet while he props his phone on the bedside, showing from his chest up. It was a spontaneous decision for him to go live at a different angle, but it only came to your advantage.

Watching Soobin read out comments from his beloved fans was so endearing to you, you knew how much of a hard-working leader your boyfriend has been for the past three years, but it was just as endearing knowing that he's the same endearing person in front and behind the screen.

What MOAs didn't know was that you were in the perfect position to lightly skim your hands over his thighs and occasionally over his crotch. It certainly did not go unnoticed by Soobin.

"'Who's your roommate tonight? Is it Beomgyu?'" He reads out a comment in which he replies with an airy chuckle, partially from the way your fingertips were caressing his semi-hard dick through his mesh shorts. "Ah, no, we all have our own rooms tonight. I think the members are asleep now, though."

You had to admit, you wanted to applaud Soobin for his voice not faltering while your fingers were wandering around his lower body. Yet, you wonder just how far you could go until he'd beg for a time out. He looks at you for a split second through his black frames, feeling it slightly slip down his nose bridge until he pushes it back up, laying his arm straight in front of him so he could cup your cheek — his way of allowing you to do whatever you want — out of frame from the camera.

His caresses were warm, his thumb rubbing up and down your cheek until you raise your head up to capture his thumb in your mouth. Your tongue swirls around his digit and then released it to place a single kiss on his clothed crotch. You could feel he'd definitely gotten harder from your last touch. Soobin, on the other hand, found his breathing picking up after feeling the warmth of your wet mouth on the pad of his thumb, hoping you'd use your mouth on his cock in the next few minutes.

You tug on the band of his shorts, and as if on cue, he picks up his phone so it was closer to his face. As he continues to read and answer comments and questions regarding their trip in America so far, he removes his frames and sets it on the bedside table. He was holding his phone just above your head, his eyes subtly flickering towards your face every now and then to see what you would do next.

For a moment, you let him answer the next few questions but you were growing impatient. Finally hooking your fingers under the waistband of his shorts and underwear, he hisses out of satisfaction, releasing his pretty, hard cock from the restraints ; watching precum leak from his blushed tip.

He was big. Bigger in both length and girth. The biggest you've seen, and ever since your first time together you had devoted yourself to him, and promised to look after and please him the best you could.

"'Is there a ghost in your room?'" He reads out. You chuckle from the thought that his fans were either messing around with him, or sensing that he wasn't alone.

You took this as your opportunity to start working on him, what could be better than you and his fans teasing him at completely different ends of the spectrum? You wrap your hand around the base of his cock, feeling his thighs tensing under your arms.

"Mmm..." Soobin hums. He could feel a moan about to escape but he managed to save himself from doing so, "BOO!" He pulls the phone closer to his face, thinking he was able to surprise those watching him, but his wavering chuckles didn't go unnoticed.

You slowly place wet kisses along his shaft, trailing up to his tip until the hint of saltiness overtook your tastebuds, tapping the head of his cock on your tongue a few times before lightly suckling on it. If your boyfriend's breathing wasn't fast enough before, then it's definitely picked up now. The urge to roll his eyes back was strong, but he remembered to keep reading new comments to distract him from doing so.

"'Soobin is sexy just by breathing.'" He reads out another comment then carefully observes the way you stretch your lips, taking more of his thick cock in your mouth. The sight was so filthy but it felt so heavenly to him. "Thank you." He chuckles at the comment.

After lightly sucking and licking his tip for a few more minutes, and Soobin talking to MOAs, you decide to take more of him in your mouth, inching the tip closer to the back of your throat, but careful enough to not gag. Soobin places his free hand on the top of your head, his fingers lacing through the loose strands but curling in to form a stable grip in your hair. His other hand still holding the phone close to his face and he positions his phone so only his nose up was in frame. Loosely holding your head up to face him, he didn't have to wait for you to nod and agree to use your mouth for his pleasure, but you were also excited to please him for your own satisfaction.

He began pushing your head lower each time, feeling how wet and slippery your mouth was around his cock, your saliva was starting to drip from your bottom lip and down along his length, just the way he likes it. Your tongue traces the prominent vein under his shaft and you felt your panties dampening by the second. Soobin didn't always use you like this, but when he did, you just knew you were going to be fucked good the second the live ends.

You look up at him, holding eye contact while his mouth is slightly agape from the overwhelming pleasure, and he looks so pretty with his bangs beginning to stick to his forehead, partially covering his eyes.

He shuffles slightly, trying to get into a more comfortable position for the both of you. Using the hand holding the phone to stabilise his balance on the bed, the camera was flat against the sheets, blacking out the viewers' screens. While his fans were questioning the blacked out screen in the chat, you took this opportunity to remove the duvet over your back, throwing it aside with half of it hanging off of the bed.

"I'm close," Soobin silently mouths at you, his eyes hazy and drunk off the feeling of the perfect suction and pace you were going at. You smile up at him when his tip occasionally slipping past your lips and he swore he could have came then and there.

You pick up the speed at which you were going at, using your hands to jerk the part of his shaft that your mouth couldn't take, determined to stimulate him as much as you can. Your sweet boyfriend let out a soft gasp but played it off as if he was just sighing, but even with that, it could have sounded a little off if anyone listened closely.

Releasing his tip with a quiet pop, you were controlling the sound of your breathing, trying to catch your breath without the phone mic picking it up. You smile at the sight of his head thrown back, quickly tapping his thigh and nodding your head in the direction of his phone, reminding him that he just left the live with a blank screen.

Thankfully he adjusted the camera close to his face again, hoping the fans hadn't heard anything and allowed him to adjust properly. "'Where did you go?' 'What was with the rustling?'" He read a few more comments flying up his screen, and you picked up where you left him with his tip occasionally reuniting with the back of your throat.

A gentle sigh slipped out of Soobin's lips when you swallowed around the head of his cock, momentarily squeezing his tip before lightly humming around him. The sound was almost like an incentive for you to keep going, but instead you were left with your eyes widening, afraid that you might get caught at any given second.

"Huh? Hah-" His breath was airy and ragged in the most discreet way possible. You sped up making it difficult for him to formulate his sentence, stuttering out a couple of strangled chuckles, "Oh! My legs— my legs are sweaty so I had to remove the duvet." He sighs in between words all while his cute bunny smile was plastered on his face.

You were shuffling your legs to press your thighs together from the sound of his sighs, hoping he could be more vocal once he's done with the livestream. But you had to remind yourself that you were currently prioritising Soobin's pleasure and you can always receive yours later.

His hand tuggs on your hair again, pulling your head upward just as you were about to bob your head towards his public bone. You inaudibly wince from the brief pain, mouth left open with your tongue hanging out of your mouth with a trail of saliva attached from your tongue to his glistening tip.

Soobin was meant to be answering a question, but he was distracted from the lewd sight just a few inches in front of him. Another smile crept up your lips as you gathered your spit and stuck your tongue out again just for your saliva to slide off your tongue and dribble down the head and his pink-ish shaft. You can't help but ogle at it yourself, he has such a pretty cock you could never have enough of it. His eyes follows yours and his eyelids drops a little, trying his hardest not to roll his eyes back for the nth time that evening.

His dick starts twitching more in the palm of your hand, indicating he was nearing his orgasm at any given moment. "Uh guys, I'm gonna have to end the live now. My phone is at three percent so I need to charge it. Sleep well MOAs!" His breath wavered at the last second. You had never seen him end his lives so quickly before, but it was just the excitement building up.

He places his phone down beside him, lifting the hem of his white shirt a little higher up his torso and pulling his shorts and underwear past his ankles to place them aside. Not bothering to charge the device, he rushes to place each hand on either side on the crown of your head.

His cock inches in a little more each time, reaching into your mouth until the head bumps the back of your throat repeatedly, filling the room with the sound of the gargling. He raises his hips as he controls your head to move until the tip of your nose made contact with his pubic bone.

"Oh baby," he groans, throwing his head back. "God, you're doing so good for me. You almost made me moan on live." He let out a sheepish chuckle, followed by a strangled moan which had the sound shooting straight to the pulse intensifying between your thighs.

The recurring twitches manages to send your sweet boyfriend over the edge, his hand stilling your head as he lets out the prettiest sounds to exist. His moans were laced with curses and a string of your name in between. You watch his torso lift off the bed, curving inwards to look at the way you took in his load.

"That's it, princess. Swallow it all for me, yeah?" The moment your eyes met, the corner of his lips lifts into a smirk. He loved the way you look; your dishevelled hair, your eyes and lips glistening, a sheer coat of his cum leaking from the corner of your lips. Soobin missed seeing you in such a state, and it's only just clicked to him that you haven't done this for a while.

"Baby?" You ask him. "I can't believe you let me do that to you while you were live." You both chuckle, realising how pervy that sounded. To Soobin, however, it sounded like another idea.

He replies with a hum, watching you use your fingers to pick up the spilled cum from the corner of your lips and darting your tongue out to swallow the remaining.

"Would you let me ride you," you crawl higher up the bed, situating your legs on either side of his hips until your clothed core starts grinding over his bare, still-hard cock. "While you're on live?"

You bury your face into the crook of his neck, smelling his fresh scent mixed with his aftershave that you undeniably loved. His arms wraps around your waist, his hands finding purchase on your ass cheeks to squeeze them ; loving the feeling of your ass in his large palms, his thumbs massaging circles before giving your flesh another good squeeze.

"I think you're onto something." He smiles, picking up his phone, which was now charging, and opening the Weverse app to notify MOAs that he'll be able to go back on live shortly.

A soft whine left your lips, lingering by his ear. Pulling back, he leans in to peck your lips a few times until your one hand held his shoulder to steady the kiss and the other wrapping around the side of his neck.

As much as you loved kissing Soobin, moments like these would be engraved in your mind. His plush bottom lip trapped between your teeth, plumping them from your harsh kisses. He tastes like chocolate chips from the Chips Ahoy cookie he ate before the live.

Irregular breaths filled the once quiet room, only heightening his hearing and noticing the way you were softly moaning against his lips. It turned him on for the most part, to the point his dick was throbbing beneath you again. You wouldn't have known until he pushed your ass down and he lifted his hips to meet your throbbing core.

Both of you exchange moans, like harmonies exclusive to the both of you. He could feel your damp panties against his shaft, but the thin barrier was beginning to agitate him.

"Baby, panties off." He litters butterfly kisses along your jaw, and then let you pull your panties down your legs in a slow, seductive manner. You were going to throw them somewhere over the bed, but felt the smallest bit of resistance from his fingers looping through and scrunching it up into his fist to stuff it into the pocket of his discarded shorts. "I'm gonna have to take this, sorry."

Soobin was definitely going to be using that in the near future. When he gets a little turned on for no reason before a performance, he'd need to jack off in the restroom just for his hard-on to disappear, he'd use your panties to help him; sniffing them, or even wrapping it around his shaft imagining that you were dry humping him—his guilty pleasure.

"Put it in," you sigh. You were ready to feel him inside you again, after not having sex for what felt like months because of practice prior the trip abroad, and now his schedule has been packed full of interviews. "Slowly."

You were hovering your core above his hips, pushing your weight on his shoulders to use him to balance yourself. He held the base of his dick, aligning it to your leaking cunt and sliding it up to your clit. Even that small action made your knees weak, your balance faltering to the point your knuckles were turning white on his shoulders.

Soobin's other hand held onto your waist, prodding his blushed tip at your entrance. You felt the pressure of his hand pushing you down, easing himself inside you until your hips were flush against each other.

"I missed this. My baby's been so patient." He growls against your chest in attempt to hold in his moans, but his one hand found its way to your breast, massaging it through your top. He lifts it up, bunching it up under your neck until your chest was on full display just for him.

"Go on baby, show me how much you've missed me." You run your fingers through his hair all while he flicks his tongue at your nipple, moving onto the other in an alternate pattern.

With you working yourself on his shaft, he encapsulates one of your breasts in his mouth, suckling on it with his teeth grazing your hardened nipple every now and again. You let out wanton moans, throwing your head back from the sensation. It was hard to concentrate on the pattern of your hips once you felt his fingers applying pressure to your clit.

You clench onto his cock, feeling yourself heavily throbbing while he's inside you. Soobin releases your boob from his mouth to let out his whines he could no longer hold in.

"Keep moving like that, I want to fill you up with my cum." He whimpers, throwing his head back with his eyes tightly shut. You moan in response, just thinking about him filling you up was enough to push you closer to your high.

After thrusting your hips onto him a few more times, his hands find their way on your hips, holding you down as he curls in, watching his abdomen flex.

"Cum in me baby, be a good boy for me." You coo at him while you kiss his neck. You could feel his shaft pulse inside you until he was moaning in your ear, indicating his release. Spurts of his cum fills you up until it was leaking down your shaking thighs and onto the sheets beneath the both of you.

"Shit, Soob. My legs—"

"It's okay angel, I got you." His voice was a little hoarse, weak from his beautiful moans a second ago.

You continued to slowly ride out both your highs, all while the palm of his hand was caressing your leg, in attempt to ease the shakiness of it.

"You're still pulsing. You want another round?" He smirks at you, eyes hidden under his damp bangs.

You shake your head, "not yet, just stay inside me while you go back on live."

"You're so bad." He chuckles at your proposition, picking up his phone and checking if he looks alright before going back on live.

He loads up Weverse for the second time, holding his phone closer to his face so the frame stopped just by his shoulders. You lean back so your shadow can't be seen, accidentally clenching around his still-hard dick, but Soobin bit the inside of his cheeks to suppress a whine.

"Hi MOAs, I wanted to talk to you still. I'm charging my phone so I can still talk to you guys." He explains to his fans, trying so hard not to buck his hips up into yours.

taglist: @ahnneyong @prodsh00ky @wccycc @lizdevorak @fairybin @laylasbunbunny @acaiasahi @ttyunz @cha0thicpisces @fairybinie @ja4hyvn @yunkiwii @aprilisque @bb-eilish @ericyjun @luvsoobs @yeonyeonyeonjun @junniieesbby @kyrkitten @hyuntaena @day6andetcetera @dainsleif-when-playable @txt-yaomi @soobinsman (here's my taglist, lmk if you want to be added to it and please specify!)

#kflixnet #k-labels #soobin smut #soobin hard hours #soobin x reader #soobin scenarios #soobin imagines #soobin oneshot #txt smut #txt hard hours #txt scenarios #txt imagines #txt oneshot #mdni #smiles hard hours #last try #those tags and those who follow me would be the only ones to see this <3

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hellfire--cult · 9 months

Text

Edit of Eddie: Sofiiel

Stripper!Eddie x Shy!Fem!Reader

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 (end)

WC: 22.4k (please take your time while reading this)

⚠️ +18 MDNI, Stripper!Eddie, nervousness, fluff, self doubt, flirting, soft touches, mentions of vomit, drinking, skin on skin contact, kissing, kissing with tongue, pining, sexual tension, smut, a lot of it (i won't spoil it)

Plot: You thought you were cursed with your shyness, but after one embarrassing night, you decide it's time to change, and you believe someone might be able to help with that.

Summary: You realize what you're feeling for Eddie, and your relationship finally shifts, as you finally let go. You finally let yourself go.

A/N: This chapter... took it's time... Its long, but IT'S WORTH IT I PROMISE. I hope you all take your time to read it, and enjoy it. I enjoyed writing it so and I hope the feelings I tried to put into words can be felt through the screen.

You can always support me by hitting the reblog button with tags, and I always enjoy reading your comments!

Taglist is closed - Follow me for updates and put notifications on!

PART 6

You felt like you were floating on air.

Your limbs were completely relaxed, your muscles felt as if they were gelatin on your body, and you were warm. Slowly gaining back your consciousness as you stirred slightly in bed, groaning as you stretched your arm forward, over the comforters that were hugging your body tightly, providing you with their heat.

Slowly, your senses started coming back, touch first, feeling the soft texture of the comforter, hugging it tightly against you. But then, your sense of smell came back, picking up a sweet scent. A sweet yet manly scent. And that’s when your hearing came back, soft snores that were very close to you, extremely. So your eyes shot open.

And your sense of sight came back.

Eddie’s face was facing yours, but he was still asleep, comforter over his body as well and your heart and breathing stopped. The tension came back to your muscles in an instant, as you felt your stomach begin to contract in itself, and your fingertips became cold from the nervousness, from the overwhelming realization of what happened yesterday.

Oh god, yesterday.

He caressed you, and you let him. He kissed you, and you let him. He touched you, and you let him. He made you feel good, and you let him. You let your friend touch you. You let a friend touch you in a way that only happens intimately, only because you were curious. You took a sharp intake of breath to forbid yourself from screaming as nausea invaded your stomach.

You needed to get out. How can you face him? How can you possibly face him after he– Your head began to spiral, maniacally. Your legs shifted and your eyes widened when you felt your wetness still there, having not changed or cleaned yourself from what happened last night. Another wave of embarrassment washed over you remembering you fell asleep on him.

You didn’t even return the favor.

You felt your body heat up at the thought because you didn’t even know if you should have. He did it by his own accord, didn’t he? He just wanted to help you, that’s it, that was it. But, oh god, you moaned. You let your voice out, he heard you moan, without any restraint and– Your blood immediately left your system as you kept remembering the night before.

You moaned his name.

You had to immediately leave. Your body and your heart cannot take it. You ruined it, everything is ruined, there is no turning back from this. There is no way you can see him eye to eye any longer, because friends don’t do this. No matter how much you are burning at the moment, you can’t take a friend’s help as an advantage. You are despicable, you are horrible, and there’s no way Eddie would forgive you for it.

You looked at Eddie’s face again and you stopped your movements and thoughts. You focused on his steady breaths as soft snores came out from his mouth, which was just partially open. His eyelashes are long, and some strands of his hair were on his face. You could feel your heart pounding in your chest again as you stared at him. His arm was draped over his head, and you could see the tattoos all over his skin.

Your hand unconsciously reached out and your fingertips touched his bicep, finding the part of the tattoo sleeve where a dragon lays. You were entranced by his art as you looked all over it, mentally taking screenshots of every single trace. You looked back at his face and your hand immediately shifted towards him, your nails gracing his cheek, gently, and you took one of the strands of his hair out of his face.

You felt your face heat up watching him. You won’t deny, ever, that he is gorgeous, probably the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen, and not once in your life you thought you would be able to touch someone like him in this way. Not even in your wildest dreams. Yet, it was so easy with him, talking to him, touching him, even kissing him.

Your fingertips suddenly went to his bottom lip, softly gracing it with your index finger, feeling his hot breath hitting your skin, and you licked your lips not really noticing your movements. You just felt like touching him, and the burning started happening once more. Why was it happening? Why is the heat there?

But your brain was not cooperating with your body right now. There was a growing need as your fingertip felt the plushness of his lip, a need to taste him again, a need to get closer again, get his arms around you, tightly, holding you and feel yourself tremble against him once more. You wanted more. It seems that’s the only word that is persistent in your head when you’re with Eddie.

More. More. More.

Why wasn’t it enough? Why wasn’t it ever enough? What more can you want? He is your friend, what else could be there that you wanted? And why just him? Why didn’t you feel this heat with Steve or Billy? Why didn’t you feel it with Austin? Why haven’t you been feeling it for every man you crossed paths with since you met Eddie? You had talked to men, be it at the grocery shop, or at a cafe, men working there, or simply greeting you.

But it’s only with Eddie that you feel this unbearable heat, these flames that just spread like wildfire everytime he touches you, even with just a brush of hands. You can’t remember a time you felt this way for someone else, this hunger that you can’t satiate no matter how much you wait for it to go away.

Your eyes darted downwards, where his pelvic area would be and you gulped heavily as you remembered the night before again. You felt him, and you had enjoyed rubbing yourself on him, even if he didn’t know you were doing it consciously. Your breath picked up as you felt an impulse in your chest, wanting it to move your hand, wanting to explore. Not just his lips, but his shoulders, his bare chest, his back, his legs, and then–

You felt a sharp small pain in your fingertip, making you wince, completely taking you out of your trance and thoughts, out of the cloud that was in your mind, and your eyes darted up again as your hand moved away by instinct only to see brown eyes staring right back at you, and your blood drained once again, as the heat immediately was dampened with a cold bucket of ice water.

“Was I drooling or something?” He questioned with a hoarse morning voice that instantly went to your belly, knotting it up, and your hairs stood on end, embarrassment filling your chest and your brain immediately triggered the flight mode. You immediately threw the comforter off your body, moving away from him, and sitting up quickly.

Your breathing quickened as you shot up from the bed, only for your limbs to feel like jelly, and you tumbled slightly, Eddie’s eyes widening as he saw the panic setting in your body. He really wished he was the first one to wake up today, because he knew you would probably have a lot of thoughts in your head, just racing uncontrollably. He sat up as you started stammering in your words, looking for your jacket, not realizing in your haze of a panic that it was downstairs.

“I-I should– I should go! I– what– yesterday–” Eddie got up from the bed, wearing the same clothes as last night. After you fell asleep on him, he had moved you so he could lay you on his bed, pulling the comforter over you. He had thought of dressing himself for sleep, but he was afraid you would feel even weirder with him having changed into comfortable clothes when you didn’t have the chance.

He opted to go to the bathroom real quick to wash his hands and relieve himself, to then come back to his room and then he nestled inside of the bed as well, seeing you sleeping peacefully next to him, and just like you did to him this morning, he had traced your face with his fingers, softly and gently, remembering every twitch your face did.

Last night does feel like a lucid dream to him, and he really cannot believe you had let him touch you like that. He couldn’t believe you had let him touch you in a way he’s been craving for a month now. At first he tried to dismiss it, but now he really can’t deny that everything with you is different, so different. He was changing too, not that you knew about it, nobody knew this change in him.

Now, he knew that a line had been crossed, and that you realize that too, and you’re freaking out about it. He doesn’t want the relationship to be different, but he feared that maybe it was too straightforward to do that to you last night. But he just needed to touch you, he absolutely needed to, and he can’t lie to himself and say he doesn’t want more, because hell, he wants so much more.

But right now,

“Angel, look at me.” He rushed to your side as you kept your gaze down, your panicked eyes trying to look anywhere but him. You shouldn’t have let last night happen, because what if he felt obliged to do that with you? What if he pitied you so badly that he felt like doing it? You can’t bear that embarrassment, not with Eddie.

“I-I’m sorry– I’m your friend and–” You stutter out, feeling the air in your lungs slowly fading as you feel your heart beating in your throat. How were you going to look at him? What does this all mean? Friends don’t do the thing you did yesterday, did they? Your head is a mess, and you just want to run away.

“Yes, you’re my friend, and sweetheart, yesterday was–” He clenched his eyes tightly, the words in his mouth stinging like a thousand needles on it. “I wanted to let you know that there is nothing wrong with you. You can feel good with someone.”

He was in front of you now as you stood in the middle of his bedroom, still staring at the ground, blinking at his words. Did he read your mind yesterday? How easy are you to read? But what you are failing to notice is that it’s just Eddie the one who can read you like this. He loves that fact. Just as he knows how you’re feeling right now, knowing you need reassurance that everything is okay, even if inside of him there was a storm, wanting to yell that he wanted to actually touch you. He wanted to feel you, hear you, hold you and kiss you, all of it.

“I– Is…” The lump in your throat made you sound so little, so weak, but you had to make sure, because losing Eddie felt like losing a part of yourself now. The thought felt like a punch to the gut, and you didn’t want it to happen, but how does everything go back to how it was?

“Darling, breathe.” His arms were reaching out to you but not touching you, which you didn’t know if you appreciated or not. Your body was burning with anticipation, but anticipation for what? What exactly were you anticipating? Your head doesn’t know, but when you see his hands, the memory of last night comes back again, but not in a way that makes you want to run away. It is rather making you want to lean closer, let him touch you, graze his skin on yours.

You took a few deep breaths, closing your eyes as you put your palms over your face, completely ashamed for what had transpired last night, but you also felt guilty. Guilty for liking it. Guilty for not regretting it. Guilty for desiring. Guilty for wanting more. Why does this hunger and this fire not satiate? Why is it lingering there? Why doesn’t it go away?

But Eddie didn’t seem like he wanted to run away. He wasn’t kicking you out, and in fact he wanted to talk to you, which made your brain slow down, even for a second, trying to register that he wasn’t going anywhere, and that he didn’t want you to go away either.

“I… Eddie– Yesterday–”

“It’s okay, look at me…” Could you even do that? Your stomach was twirling, almost in nausea as you even imagined the look in his eyes. Suddenly, you felt your wrists being grabbed, gently, very carefully, and it made you jump slightly. The skin where he was touching was burning, but your heart was so grateful for it, and everything became steady, after feeling like the room was spinning on its axis.

He gulped nervously, taking a step closer to you. The only thing in his mind right now, is for you to be okay. He only wants you to be okay, and for you to be able to look at him. He needed you to look at him again, his heart was aching for it, and his gut was contracting in itself each second you didn’t look up.

So, he was greedy again, guiding you to slowly pull your hands down, uncovering your face, and he cursed at himself for wanting to pull you in, wanting to hold you in his arms but he has to be patient. He wants you, but he has to do it right. You’re not just anybody.

Not anymore.

“Look at me Angel… It’s just me.” Your bottom lip shook slightly out of nervousness, but you complied, slowly driving your eyes up. First on his black shirt, then his collar and neck, to then finally land on his brown eyes which were looking at you intensely, with worry, same as yours. You had expected your body to flinch away, to run away even more so than before, but it did the entire opposite. Your body relaxed, your gut turned but it was not nauseating as before, and your brain went blank as he gazed down at you.

You got lost in his eyes, trying to find the regret of what happened last night, trying to find the slight bit of discomfort, but there was none. There was just reassurance, looking at you like he always did, talking to you like he always did, and that made your body lose some of its tension, Eddie noticing it instantly.

“I– I don’t want everything to be weird– I really don’t want to…” Your eyes were teary now, making Eddie’s heart clench as his grip on your wrists tightened slightly from the emotions he was feeling at seeing you like this. His lips curved up in a soft smile, and he shook his head once.

“It isn’t going to be weird… I wanted to show you that there was nothing wrong with you, and I just– I just wanted to help you learn about yourself, help you trust in your body and sensations.” He wanted to chop his tongue off. He helped you, yes, but he wanted to tell you that he liked it too, even if untouched, he loved it, and if you asked, he would do it again.

“I–” You felt yourself heat up as embarrassment and shame invaded your mind. “I didn’t… I didn’t do…” You gazed down again, not wanting to look at his face. You didn’t even reciprocate anything to him, you just fell asleep right on his shoulder after he made you feel so blissful, after he made you see stars, after he made you tremble for the first time in the hands of someone else.

Eddie’s heart soared as he listened to you, as he saw that you cared, that you indeed thought about him and how he was feeling. He didn’t even expect you to think about giving something back to him, and his body relaxed as he melted towards you, one of his hands letting go of your wrist to slowly rise up towards your cheek. You didn’t even flinch, but you actually pressed your face slightly onto his fingers, at his touch.

“I didn’t expect it. I didn’t want anything back Angel… I was just caring for you last night, okay?” He did want, but he wasn’t going to say that to you. At least not now, because that is not what you needed. Yet, in your head, there was a question that fell at the tip of your tongue at his words. You looked up at him, locking eyes with him again, but your mouth didn’t open to voice out what you wanted to ask.

Did he not want anything back because he really didn’t expect it from you, or because he didn’t actually want YOU to give anything back to him?

The thought made your skin grow goosebumps, mind whirling at the thought of some type of rejection. Why did you feel like that? Why did you feel like he just said something hurtful to you? Why did you suddenly feel unwanted? Undesired?

“And… And us? Does this… make everything–” His palm was now resting on your cheek as he stared down at you, the smile still on his lips, very small, subtle, but yet so emotional and caring, that it made your heart jump at the sight.

“It doesn’t make it awkward… I promise… Which reminds me–” He put his hand down and your other wrist was let go of, making you almost sigh at the loss of contact, wanting to gravitate towards him again. “I don’t think our private dances from yesterday should go unpaid, and as I recall, you make the best fucking pancakes ever, and I’m dying for a chocolate chip one.”

The tension left your shoulders as he talked, a small smile spreading on your lips, watching him straight up with his arms over his chest. You copied his stance, squinting up at him in defiance which made him raise his eyebrows up, hiding behind some of his messy fringe.

“I believe I never actually ASKED for those dances. You guys were very greedy for just one dollar.” You say and he glared down at you before shooting his arm up, poking you on the side, causing you to flinch and giggle, the butterflies exploding in your stomach, and again, they were not on the nauseating side.

“You make some pancakes or…” You raised a questioning eyebrow at his words.

“Or?”

“I’ll start saying mistaken facts about Harry Potter. Like, for example, Harry Potter and the prisoner of alcatraz was a masterpiece.” You winced at the mistaken title, but you knew he was doing it on purpose. He had let you rant talking about Harry Potter for one whole evening through a video call. He just started asking questions to you, and you didn’t even know that he did that just to hear you talk.

He loved hearing you talk when you were excited, when you were confident in the topic, when you were passionate and loving about it, but he also loved the fact that you cared for his interests too. So one day was Harry Potter, and the next day was Dungeons and Dragons. He had explained to you as easily as possible but you were learning pretty quickly and you retained information like a champ.

And as he liked to hear you talk, you liked to hear him.

“Okay, I’ll make the pancakes, so shut up.” You say to him with a shake of your head and he grinned widely at you, knowing he got away with what he wanted, which weren’t the pancakes. He got you to loosen up again, and when you turned around to open the door, a sigh of relief escaped his lips, soft and you weren’t able to hear it.

You tiptoed out of the room, followed by Eddie and you immediately heard the loud snoring from the living room. You giggled while looking back at him and he was just smiling, shaking his head. You walked down the stairs, as quietly as you could, and you saw Robin, now looking up, splayed on the floor over the fluffy carpet as Steve used her tummy as a pillow, in the position of a starfish.

You covered your mouth as you approached them, trying to hold in the laughter. Eddie was next to you after a second, having retrieved his phone from the kitchen counter, and he pulled up the camera to take a picture of the two people on the floor. He was going to keep this and show his brother, because the little shit idolized Steve for a reason, and he never knew why.

He wanted to break that enchantment.

“I bet they’ll wake up at the smell of food.” You whisper and he smirks, shaking his head.

“Steve needs a bucket of ice water to wake up from a hangover.” You grinned and turned your head to look at him, biting your bottom lip. Eddie had to hold back from swallowing, the blood rushing south immediately.

“Wanna bet?”

“A dollar.” He put his hand inside his front pocket and took out the wrinkled dollar you stuffed in there last night. The memory came back like a flash, making you flush all over as the butterflies turned into hungry wolves.

“Deal.” You immediately turned around, trying to hide away from him, but he had already seen your reaction. His chest puffed with hope as he followed you towards the kitchen, and he was next to you in a second, helping you get everything for the pancakes.

Then, the scene turned quite domestic, and normal. Way too normal, and easy, as if it were a puzzle just putting itself together in a perfect match. You beat the eggs, he preheated the pan, he poured the flour in, then mixed for you to start making your batch of pancakes, sprinkling the chocolate chips on top.

“You had to put the chocolate chips inside the batter.” Eddie growled as you shook your head at his whine. You flipped your pancake and looked to your side and up at him.

“Last time I prepared them like this and you didn’t complain.” You say to him, and you remember that afternoon almost everyday. You came with Robin because Steve invited her over, and said that if you wanted to join, that it was okay. You didn’t have any other plans, and the thought of probably seeing Eddie urged you to come over.

Twenty minutes after your arrival, Eddie and Billy stumbled inside the apartment, groaning as they complained they hadn’t eaten anything for the past 3 hours, and dancing was not helping them. So Robin, sweet Robin, thought it was a great idea to tell them that you prepared killer pancakes.

You cooked 22 pancakes that afternoon.

“It’s because I didn’t see you making them. I was showering and getting myself pretty and presentable.” He says with a teasing smile on his face and you shake your head, putting one of the last pancakes on the plate.

“Steve, get the fuck up, I smell pancakes.” You grinned widely at Robin’s voice, looking back over your shoulder, Eddie following your motion, putting his fist over his mouth to hold in his laughter as Robin pushed Steve off her and the poor man groaned almost in pain as he sat up. His hair was completely messed up, and Robin’s wasn’t far behind. They had two bird’s nests on their heads.

“Morning.” Eddie says and you look at him, putting your hand out. He raised an eyebrow up at you.

“Pay up.” You say and he scoffs, shaking his head at you.

“I don’t think so. Robin woke up, then made Steve wake– Oh.” You smirked up at him and he bit his bottom lip, yet a smile was on his face as he looked down at you. He definitely felt the change. The bantering before was light hearted, but now, there was this hidden elastic band that was stretching out, slowly, further and further.

“Exactly.” You drifted your eyes towards his lips, just for a second, and then back at his eyes. You were feeling it still, that pooling heat at the bottom of your belly, trying to tell you something which you weren’t sure of. He put his hand into his front pocket again, and slapped the bill on top of your hand.

“This seems rigged, sweetheart.” He whispered towards you as he put his face closer to yours, glaring at you in a playful manner. Something took over you, something that snapped in your gut, in your mind, a sense of confidence that you never felt before, leaning towards him as well, your face closer to his.

His eyes went wide as you got closer, the tension suddenly rising in between the both of you, not expecting you to mimic his movements at all, but his heartbeat was on his ears, his throat going dry as your breath mixed with his, and he felt the palms on his hands sweating, almost heavily.

“I just outsmarted you.” You leaned back, putting batter onto the pan again, looking as if you hadn’t just turned Eddie into a mess, his mind reeling at how close you got by your own accord, his blood burning into his veins as he kept staring at you, completely dazed.

Did you even know you did that?

“I need a fucking Advil, or something to end my suffering.” You hear Steve grumpily say with a huff. Eddie snapped out, looking over at his friend, who was now sitting on the couch with an arm over his eyes, probably to avoid the intense light from pouring through his eyelids. He sighed, passing behind you but his greediness got the best of him, and he decided to test the waters.

He put his hands in the small of your back and hips, gently, to push you forward so he could walk between you and the counter, even if he had enough space to do so, but he just needed to touch you. You stiffened slightly, shivers being sent to the tip of your toes, a wave of flames engulfing your entire body as he passed behind you.

And you didn’t see it, but a smirk formed on his lips as he walked away from you.

You took a sharp intake of breath, looking at his broad back, going into the bathroom to probably look for some Advil at Steve’s request. You knew your breath had quickened and that your heart was tugging at your chest, trying to move you towards him, but your thoughts were cut off by Robin who rested her chin onto your right shoulder, looking down at the pan.

“It’s burning.” Your eyes widened, looking at the pancake and flipping it over quickly, and Robin had been right. It was almost black on the other side. You groaned as you heard some steps coming down the stairs.

“Morning.” You heard Billy say, Robin lifting her head up to look at him, giving him a nod and hoarse ‘morning’ only for her eyes to turn at Eddie’s return and hearing the pill bottle in his hand and a glass of water on the other. He walked towards Steve and Robin followed right behind, trying to snatch the pill bottle from Eddie.

You tipped the last pancake onto the plate, grimacing at it with disgust at the failure as Billy stood next to you, getting hold of it, taking a rough bite making your eyes widen at him.

“Billy, it’s hot!” You say to him with worried eyes and he blows the smoke out up at the ceiling. He swallowed after three bites and shook his head with a wince.

“I just needed food, my stomach is a fucking mess.” You sighed, turning off the heat and putting all the utensils you used in the sink to wash. You grabbed the sponge as you began cleaning, Billy still next to you as he kept eating the burnt pancake. “At least I don’t have a headache like those two.”

You turned your head to see Eddie sighing heavily as he rubbed Steve’s back while sitting next to him, Robin slumped on the arm chair, staring at the ceiling, and Eddie probably trying to make him swallow his vomit, making you wince in disgust again and turn your attention back to the dishes. If Steve barfed, you didn’t really want to see it.

“That’s what you all get for drinking too much.” You say to Billy, which made him chuckle, finishing the pancake that was in his hands.

“Did you have fun last night?”

You almost dropped the bowl onto the sink at the words that came out of his mouth. Your body went stiff, feeling a cold sweat all over, as your belly turned with nervousness and embarrassment. Did he know? Did he hear?

“I– Uh…”

“I mean, did you forget about your awful date? You were laughing so I assumed you did.” You gave a sigh out of relief, returning to clean the bowl in your hand. He was talking generally, making your shoulders lose the stiffness once more.

“Yeah, I had fun. Thank you.” You gave him a smile as he took the last piece of pancake into his mouth, and nodded at you, grabbing the plate with a stack of those delicious chocolate chip pancakes you made, heading over towards the group.

You continued cleaning the utensils which weren’t a lot, to then dry your hands, walking towards them, catching Eddie as he stuffed his face with the third pancake in a row. Steve was looking at him with disgust but Billy was trying to coarse a piece into his mouth. Robin was pitifully eating one, groaning at each bite.

You grabbed one of your pancakes, and even if the space between the armrest and him was little, you walked towards it, sitting in between. Eddie scooched a little bit, fighting back the grin that wanted to spread on his lips. You, once again, came to him. He bumped his knee against yours as he munched on his pancake, and you reciprocated, bumping it back.

You giggled as Steve kept trying to push Billy’s pancake away, and the blonde finally gave up, eating the pancake himself, flipping Steve off as he walked to get some water for himself in the kitchen. You finished your breakfast and looked at Robin who was still groaning, her hangover taking all over her body and you sighed.

“We should go. Robin might vomit all over if we stay here a minute longer.” You say, trying to not let your voice sound desperate to stay. Desperate to be here a little bit longer. Desperate to stay with him, just one more minute. You look at Eddie and he sighs, giving you a nod.

“Yeah, Stevie here is not looking good either… Seriously, what did you guys drink last night? Poison?”

“Definitely.” Steve says and he regrets it the minute he does, because opening his mouth made the breath intake swirl in his stomach, and he immediately shot up from his place, rushing towards the bathroom to finally hurl everything out of his system. Eddie, Billy and you shared a look and then at Robin.

“Please, take me home.” Robin says and you nod, getting up from the couch and heading over to put on your heels, and your jacket. Eddie got up as well, holding in a breath at the sight of your legs in the morning light that's shining through the blinds.

Legs that trembled under his touch last night.

“Come on Robs.” You walked over to her, both of your purses on one hand while the other stretched towards her. She groaned but grabbed it either way and you pulled her up, and she almost knocked you over as she stumbled forward. Eddie was behind you in a heartbeat, pressing his front on your back, as you pushed Robin on steady feet.

“Whoa, the last thing I need is a trip to the hospital today.” You hear him say behind you, and his hands were pressing on your arms, holding you, and your belly wanted to scream, tell him to keep holding you, or yell at him to move his hands, to satiate the hunger.

More.

You pulled away from him when you saw Robin almost falling again and you rushed to her side, pulling her arm over your shoulder. All the heat was gone in an instant as worry flashed in your face, Steve’s vomiting echoing in the room and you felt Robin’s body tense as she gagged and you gasped, looking at Eddie alarmingly.

“We need to go, I will babysit Robin all day.” You say to him and he nods, rushing towards the door to hold it open for you.

“I’ll push the button for the lobby, go before she paints the walls green Angel.” You give him a nod as Robin lurches forward, another gag rushing through her body and you winced, walking towards the door. The ache in your belly reappeared as you looked at him again. Your lips were tingling, and you cursed the fact that you had to hold Robin up because you just wanted to hug him goodbye, or kiss his cheek.

“I’ll– I’ll talk to you later, okay?” You say but don’t move from your place, almost as if waiting for something. His features softened as he gulped a nervous lump in his throat, leaning down to press a kiss on your forehead, very fast, soft, yet burning as if he lingered there for a while.

“Yeah, I’ll talk to you later sweetheart.” You were stuck to the ground, your heart not wanting to move as you looked at him, and the only thing that made you return to your senses, was Robin’s gagging once more. You groaned as you walked out and headed towards the elevator, which was gladly already at your floor.

Eddie gave you a small wave and you returned it with a smile, finally disappearing into the elevator, the doors closing as Eddie closed the one of his apartment. He heard Steve again, and he wondered how much more he had in his stomach, because it felt never ending.

With a sigh, he walked towards the fridge, getting the water out to fill a glass for himself, and one for Steve. Billy was eating a pancake next to him, his hip resting against the counter, and Eddie froze, putting the water bottle on the counter, his head slowly turning to look at Billy.

“Weren’t you sleeping on the couch last night?” Billy nodded and then shrugged, looking at the pancake in his hand.

“Got up in the middle of the night, wanted to sleep on my bed.” His blue eyes finally looked up at Eddie’s, a pair of shocked brown orbs staring at his friend’s face as if he were a ghost. Billy smirked, taking a bite out of his pancake again, grabbing the glass of water for Steve, walking behind Eddie to head to the toilet, but not before he whispered into his ear the same question he asked you before.

“Did you have fun last night?”

You took off your work headphones, finally finishing the meeting and work for the day. You sighed heavily, looking up at the ceiling. It had been some heavy days of work, but gladly you had asked for two days off, one being tomorrow, Thursday, and then Friday, giving you an extended weekend.

You stood up from your chair, turning the laptop off, shutting the top, and finally taking a deep breath. You smiled as you walked towards your kitchen, getting a glass and your bottle of wine. It was already opened, so you just took the cork off and poured yourself until it was halfway full.

Austin talked to you this afternoon, asking for a second date. You didn’t even hesitate when you declined it politely. It was hard to do so, asking Robin for advice on how to do it, but being honest was the best option. You told him you just didn’t feel it that way, and he kindly understood or that’s what you could read from the texts on the work chat.

If he was mad, he didn’t show it.

You took a sip out of your glass as your phone vibrated and you looked down at it to see Eddie sending you a direct message on Instagram. Probably a meme. You smiled slightly at it, but then it immediately fell and you took a large sip out of your glass this time, as you felt the knots in your belly turning at his message, but there was also some sort of frustration behind it.

At first you didn’t know why you felt it. Sunday he had messaged you about his lunch and what he was going to wear for work that night. Monday, he video called you to tell you that he bought a new expansion for his DnD game, while he wore a tight turtleneck. Tuesday, he was excitedly telling you about his uncle Wayne coming to visit soon, and how Eddie wants you to meet him. And now, today, he’s been sending you memes all day, as if nothing ever happened between you two.

And that was what was driving you insane.

You had almost ripped your brain cells trying to figure out what was happening or why you felt this way, wanting to tell Robin but for some reason you just wanted to keep this to yourself. This is a very confusing feeling, not knowing what is happening, and much less towards a friend.

But you also wondered why Eddie had been so nonchalant about all of this, about everything, and you couldn’t help but want that shift that you felt on Sunday morning. The soft touches that weren’t always there, the small playful bantering, and the closeness. God, the closeness. You shivered every time you remembered his skin on yours, his lips on yours, on your neck, which you noticed as soon as you left Robin at her apartment that you had a few marks on there, very subtle, but still there.

They were now gone, and you found yourself mourning those marks. Did he want to mark you again? Would he touch you again? Kiss you again? Make you feel good again? And even so, you didn’t feel embarrassed or nervous about that situation anymore, because it was replaced with an anxious feeling, with a feeling of anticipation, with a feeling of ‘What will happen next? Will there be a next time like this?’.

And after your night with Eddie, you found the burning even more unbearable than before, and electric shocks were added into it too. You tried, you really tried to make yourself feel good just like he showed you, but every time you closed your eyes, the memory of his fingers came back, as well as the kissing on your neck, and not even a vibrator could compare.

Your thoughts were cut off when your phone started vibrating wildly, and you looked over to see Eddie calling you through video. Butterflies exploded in your belly, nervousness filling you up and you cursed at yourself for not putting on a single gram of make up today. You glanced at your reflection in your toaster, wincing as you fixed your hair a bit, putting some strands in front of your face. It was all you could do.

You grabbed your phone and slid on the screen to answer Eddie’s call. His head popped up, his curls tight on a bun on top of his head and you could only see from the bridge of his nose, and up, as he wiggled his eyebrows up and down onto the camera, making you snort, looking away from the screen. You heard him laugh as he pulled the phone away from him, showing his entire face to you.

“Hello there Angel.” You heard his voice and your eyes immediately found his through the communication device, seeking him out again as your pet name was said.

“Hi Eddie. What are you doing?” You asked and he shrugged, giving you an offended fake look.

“I can’t call my favorite girl in the whole world just cause I feel like it?” His favorite girl in the world. His girl. You knew you blushed at those words, giving a huff as you looked towards the glass on your counter and distract yourself from the aching heat that was already beginning to spread. You held onto the glass and took a sip of it, putting it down to look back at him.

“I bet you could have texted me about it.” You didn’t deny his advance at you. In fact, you didn’t deny any of the advances he did on you this week. Showing you what he was going to wear for the night at the club? Putting on a tight turtleneck that would surely show off his pecs to you? Tell you he wanted you to meet his Uncle? He knew it was selfish, and he knew it was risky, but you had actually shown reciprocation that made him smile in victory. You were very brief with his work clothes selection, making small ‘hms’ and ‘that’s good’ as if you were not liking what you were seeing. You complimented him on his black turtleneck, telling him it looked great on him and that he should wear it more often. And then, you told him you couldn’t wait to meet his uncle, so that’s why today, Eddie, has reached a boiling point.

“I thought a call would be quicker, sorry for interrupting your lonely drinking session.” He jokingly replied to you which made you roll your eyes. He licked his lips as he took a deep breath in, his throat closing in on him as he looked at the screen. He stripped for a living, almost completely naked, and talking to you made him more nervous than he’d ever been before.

“Right, so, what is it? I got a glass of wine and some Kirby to play.” You say to him, and his chest warmed at the thought of you, just playing on your switch, while he played on his, both on the couch. He would be resting against the back of the couch while you rested your head on his lap, showing him your accomplishments on your game. And that thought, that small little image in his head, made him finally talk.

“I got the day off tomorrow as well actually.” You raised your head to look at him again, and Eddie sucked in another breath, feeling the palm holding the phone tensing and sweating up, but he can try to play it cool. He always did. “So, I was wondering if you wanted to go to that bar near your apartment, I am missing how they prepare the Negroni there–”

“Yes.”

Silence. Both of you were stunned at how quick you responded. You didn’t even process it, you didn’t even think about it, you didn’t even hesitate. Your whole body had a sudden cold sweat, and you almost dropped to the floor in embarrassment but Eddie finally recovered himself, straightening up as if you hadn’t just accepted going out on a date with him so casually. Well, he didn’t tell you it was a date, but he kind of hoped it was.

“Okay then! Someone’s excited to keep drinking it seems.” He had to lighten up the mood, he had to make you laugh again, lose the tension on your shoulders, and that he did. You giggled through your burning cheeks, your heart beating into your ears, but happiness was replacing your embarrassment, followed by excitement. Was it a date? Or was this just two friends getting together to have a drink? Or maybe you weren’t even going to be alone, maybe he invites Billy if he has his day off or something.

“I just– I don’t have plans for tomorrow, okay?” You say to him hiding your face behind the big glass of wine, and he couldn’t help but smile at you, dimples and all, making your stomach explode with so many things that you couldn’t even name them all.

“Okay, alright, fine. I’ll just park near your apartment and we can go walking from there.” Your heart soared at that. Austin had told you to simply meet him there, when Eddie wasn’t, not only picking you up, but offered to go walking, and you hoped that it was because he wanted to spend more time with you. And you were right.

“Alright. Can I go play Kirby now?” You needed to hang up, you needed to yell, you needed to jump around with excitement, not being able to contain yourself for much longer. He was feeling the burning sensation on his face now too, so he clenched his other hand on the bed, tightly to hold his emotions in.

“Go play your stupid Kirby, I’ll see you tomorrow Angel.” You gave him a nod, putting your glass down to be able to send him a soft smile, and his eyes almost bulged out of his sockets when you bit your bottom lip, very subtly.

“See you tomorrow Eds.” You hung up and Eddie was staring blankly at the screen. You had accepted his invitation, rapidly, no doubt there, sure you were embarrassed and he could see it, but it meant… God, it meant you were letting go. A wide smile spread on his lips, teeth showing as he threw the phone on his bed, his arms raising towards the ceiling as he plopped backwards, falling onto his mattress with a laugh.

You weren’t far behind on his excitement, putting the phone on the counter before you did small little jumps in the same place you stood, a wide grin spreading on your cheeks. You weren’t this excited when Austin asked you out, and even if you didn’t know if Eddie meant it that way, you realized that if it was indeed a date, you didn’t mind.

You didn’t mind. Oh my god… You didn’t mind.

Realization hits you like a brick to the face. It couldn’t be that, could it? He is your friend, someone who helped you all along this journey to find yourself, it’s impossible to feel– feel this for someone you consider a friend right? Well not impossible, but it shouldn’t happen, because he obviously doesn’t see you like that. He is just inviting you out to a bar to drink with his friend.

You were just excited to see Eddie, nothing more. But the anticipation was there again. What were you anticipating to happen? Your feelings were not cooperating with what your brain knows, so you cannot even describe what was going on inside of you. When did this shift happen with Eddie? This didn’t happen before, did it? You can’t remember now, because the present was just blurring everything from the past month.

You grabbed your glass of wine again, taking another sip, and the heat was all over your body again. You were going insane not knowing what was happening to you, and that leads you to stomp towards your living room, and take your Switch out of its charging dock, and plopping onto your couch, the glass on the coffee table.

You just needed to distract yourself. Eddie is a friend, and you are going to the bar as friends.

You walked out of the bathroom with the towel wrapped around your body, with a shocked expression on your face.

You just wanted to be tidy, that’s all, feel clean. So, you shaved again, even if you shaved last week, you did it again. But it was all to feel clean, you liked that soothing feeling, your smooth legs and everywhere else. You looked at your full length mirror, scanning your body and the back of your legs if they were properly shaved. It isn’t the first time you shaved when seeing Eddie, but it is the first time you shaved your private parts.

You shook your head, trying not to think too much about it, as well as the building heat in your belly. You double tapped your phone that was on your night table to look at the time. 5 PM. You had time, okay. You walked over to your closet and opened the underwear drawer, looking through your panties and bras to finally land on something you hadn’t opened yet.

The black laced lingerie set.

Why were you even considering it? Why were you even thinking about putting that on? It was Eddie, just Eddie… Sweet Eddie. You can’t put that on, because it wasn’t what this was. It wasn’t that at all. You grabbed your white set, the cotton pair and you sighed heavily with a nod, pushing the drawer closed.

You stepped away to throw the set onto the bed but you stopped midway. You looked towards the drawer again. There was something inside of you that was tugging you towards it again, your mind wanting to go against it, but it felt as if it were an impulse, not being able to control it.

Why can't you control it? You’ve always been able to control your feelings, so what was this? Why is it always frustratingly there? Why doesn’t it ever go away and why is it always there with Eddie? Your body moved to the drawer again, taking the black lace set out and immediately throwing your towel away, stepping onto the thong first, which you almost never used, and then putting on the bra, with embroidery stitched onto it, the edges of it a nice thin lace that stuck to your skin.

You walked towards the mirror again to stare at yourself, the burning sensation returning to your body as a thought appeared in your head. Your eyes widened, slowly, walking towards your reflection to touch the crystal with your fingertips.

You wanted him to see it.

You didn’t think of wearing this set with Austin, and in fact you were saving it for a serious relationship, when you had spent months building the trust and the confidence between one another… Yet, with Eddie you already had all of that. It was always there. It had always been there, and you realized at this very moment, just what was happening.

It had occurred to you many times, that the feeling inside of you was something you never felt before. Something Eddie mentioned that night, and that you didn’t know how to describe it to him. Something that shouldn't happen with friends, and you knew that, that’s why you had been denying it all along, because admitting it would only lead to pain.

You were attracted to Eddie. Painfully so.

Oh fuck… You sat on the bed, looking towards the floor as the butterflies exploded in your belly, your heart beating into your ears, a buzzing noise filling your brain as you tried to think, tried to put your feelings back together, but all you could think about was him. His touch, his scent, his eyes, his lips, his voice, his tattoos, and–

You wanted to see more. So much more.

You weren’t hiding yourself at the thought of seeing more, not like you did before, not like the nervous and anxious panicked self you were before, because the difference from those times is that you weren’t sure of what you wanted. You weren’t sure if you could do some stuff. You weren’t sure if you would look nice. You weren’t sure if he would enjoy himself with you…

But you remembered that night, and you couldn’t help but hope, wish that he in fact felt the same way, the same attraction you felt for him. You covered your face as flames invaded your cheeks and towards your ears. You were desperate, and it was the first time you were experiencing it. You wanted him to the point of not being sure if you could control yourself with him. Not anymore.

What are you going to do now with this realization? You want his friendship yet you don’t. You want this to not be a date, yet you want it to. You aren’t anticipating anything, yet you are. And there it was, the anticipation of wanting him to do something. The need for him to not act like nothing happened last weekend. The need for him to show you he wants you as much as you want him.

But what if your mind is creating this idealization of him that is not true? What if he doesn’t really want you? What if it is just your brain creating that fantasy that he does just so you could feel good about yourself? It can happen, right? But, fuck, he was hard that night, but men get hard with everything and anything, and you knew that much.

“Oh god…” You took a few deep breaths in, feeling your chest just palpitating and you were sure you were going into a cardiac arrest. You got up from the bed and shook your hands as you paced back and forth in your room, breathing deeply and exhaling, trying to calm your nerves as they started settling in your body.

Stop thinking. Stop thinking. Stop thinking.

He even taught you this. You think too much, you dwell too much on the infinite possibilities on how something might go, when the only thing you have to do is let yourself go, just like you did that night with him, as well as when you let him kiss you almost a month ago.

You looked at yourself in the mirror again, stopping on your tracks. Just act like you normally do, don’t let it show, but it was impossible. What if he put an innocent hand on the small of your back just like he did when you were cooking pancakes? That touch, that simple and soft touch almost made you lose your mind. How can you possibly do this? How are you going to act now that you know? Should you tell Robin? No, there’s no time, she doesn’t even know you and Eddie kissed, she would absolutely flip and you need to get ready.

The weather was still warm but chilly when the wind blew, so laid out on the bed was a nice long sleeved black dress that reached your mid thigh, there was no cleavage, but your collarbones showed on the collar of it. It was a casual dress, but it wasn’t. You groaned now that you realize you had been anticipating everything about going out with Eddie tonight.

The shaving, the dress, the lingerie, the excitement of him inviting you to a bar, the perfume you were going to use, the makeup you were going to do on yourself, the hairstyle you looked a tutorial for, the accessories you were going to use and the small heels you were going to wear. Was it all too much? What if he is casual, in some jeans and a band T-Shirt and you make him feel bad about it?

Okay, maybe change the heels for some sneakers and don’t overdo the makeup. You can do that, you have to be more casual. What if he sees through you? What if he thinks you got attracted to him right after he touched you? Will he think you are delusional? That just because he kissed you and touched you meant he wanted more with you?

What did more mean?

You jumped on the spot when your alarm rang, making your eyes go wide. You had set the alarm to go off at 5:30 PM and you realized you had been walking all around and thinking for half an hour. Precious time you needed to get ready. You rushed to your vanity desk to start pulling out everything you needed for your makeup and hair.

The time went on as you got ready, your nervousness building more and more as each minute passed. You were nervous, but it was a good nervous, as well as excited but terrified. You slid on your sneakers and looked at yourself in the mirror again. Your hair was down, but neat, a little bit styled, more than usual, but not overdoing it. Your makeup was kept simple, neutral eyeshadows with a tinge of black, with your eyeliner and mascara. Your lips were a natural red tone, a lip tint.

You looked at your phone and it marked it was 6:42 PM. Your hands started sweating as you began to pace around the room again. It was almost time, and you were trying to regulate your breathing. This wasn’t a stranger, it was Eddie, but the turn of your belly was way worse than any other time you were with another man.

Just act normal. Like always. It’s just a night out, with your friend, no funny business. But fuck, if there is no funny business, why did you get dressed like this? Your phone vibrated and you rushed towards it to see Eddie’s message.

‘Arrived a little early 😅’

A smile spread on your lips, long gone was the fear you felt seconds ago, replaced by adrenaline as you sprayed more perfume on the back of your ears, grabbing onto your purse and sliding the phone inside as well as the small tube of gloss just in case you want to reapply.

You grabbed your keys and rushed out of your house, locking after you left and you slipped into the elevator as fast as you could, pressing onto the bottom floor quickly until the doors closed. You looked at yourself in the mirrors of the wall of the elevator and fixed your hair again, giving one small nod as you waited for the doors to open again. Once they did, you walked out and out of the glass doors of the lobby, you could already see him.

Shit.

He was wearing that tight turtleneck black t-shirt you saw on him the other day, his black leather jacket on top, ripped black jeans, with his handcuff belt on his waist. He was looking to the side as he rested on the street lamp waiting for you. His hair was up in a bun, small strands falling around his face, and you felt your knees wobble slightly.

He dressed up, in the same manner you did.

You gulped and punched the nervous lumps down your throat, walking towards the door and finally opening it. His head immediately snapped at the sound, and he had a smile on his face, ready to greet you, only for his breath to be knocked out of his lungs as if someone had kicked him on his chest cavity.

He was absolutely stunned as he scanned your outfit, and he was sure that you were trying to kill him. He didn’t expect you to put on a dress for him, and he didn’t expect you to come out as quickly as you did. He also didn’t expect the perfume you were using, and he just was not prepared to see you like this. You were always beautiful, but now that you made yourself look good for this outing with him had his heart in his throat.

Do you even realize what you do to him or are you completely unaware of it?

“Hi Eds!” Your cheery voice broke him out of his trance, finally feeling a cold sweat invade his feet, all blood leaving them to rush north, making him curse inwardly at himself.

“Hey Angel.” He leaned away from the lamp post, and your heart soared when he reached out to you to pull you into a hug, face planting on his chest. You were afraid he could feel your heart against him, but you could definitely hear his. It was rather quick for its normal pace, but you guessed that maybe he walked to get to your door, having parked around the corner or something.

Your arms wrapped around his waist and god he wanted to push you into your complex again, just go to your apartment and spend alone time with you instead of going into a bar with other people. But that would be too dangerous, being alone with you was not good for his own heart, nor his body, not when he had already heard you, tasted you, touched you.

He pulled away from you after taking a deep breath from your perfume, keeping his arm around your shoulders as he guided you to start walking the three blocks towards the bar. He was more nervous than he thought he’d be, but he had to stay calm, try to not show you how his hands were slightly trembling with the need to pull you into a kiss, or an even deeper hug.

You didn’t expect the arm to rest there, setting your body on fire as you started taking the first steps towards the bar. Your voice for some reason was caught in your throat as you looked at the floor. Talk to him, say something, anything at all. You raised your head up to ask him about this day off but your eyes caught onto the dark clouds that were coming from the distance.

“Eds, do I go get my umbrella? Just in case.” You say while pointing at said clouds. He looked over and indeed saw them, but he shrugged with a shake of his head.

“Nah, it didn’t say it was going to rain. I bet it will just go around or it will be very little rain, we’ll be fine.” He says as if he were a meteorologist and you rolled your eyes at him, still staring at the clouds as you both walked.

“So those big black clouds it’s just a sprinkle of rain. That’s what you’re trying to tell me.” You say to him and he looks at you with a wide smile to his face, his arm falling from your shoulder, and your chest contracted in itself, missing the touch and the pressure that it had created.

“I am an expert with weather. If you take a sniff, there’s no rain smell! It’s common sense sweetheart.”

And that’s how you both arrived at the bar, bantering at Eddie’s poor sense of instinct but you still trusted him with not going back for an umbrella. It was the same bar you met Austin at, and when you both entered Eddie guided you to a similar booth, letting you both sit next to each other instead of in front of one another.

You gulped and took a deep breath in as you slid into the booth, him sitting right next to you. This… This looked like a date, didn’t it? It had to be, but he didn’t say it was, so maybe it isn’t, but you want it to be. Should you ask? But it’s too early, maybe ask that at the very end just in case you make everything awkward between the two of you. Maybe you’re just–

“You’re thinking again.” He says and you look to your side and at him, a nervous heat engulfing you from being caught red handed. You had to think of something, anything at all.

“It was just a very stressful three days at work. Had to leave everything completely tidy for these two days I’ll be gone.” It was actually the truth, you weren’t lying, but you did lie about this being the thing you were thinking about, and you felt slightly guilty about that.

“Wow, they really can’t go without you sweetheart.” You shrugged at that as the waitress came over to get your order which was a rum and coke for Eddie and a beer for you, with a side of fries.

“Yeah, I also had a nervous attack yesterday.” You didn’t even register what you said until it was out of your mouth. He raised an eyebrow at you, worry displayed on his face as he put a hand on your shoulder, making you look at him.

“Nervous? What happened?” Your eyes widened slightly and you cleared your throat, looking down at the table again, biting your bottom lip nervously. There it was again. You do not want to tell Eddie about another man. How stupid you were before for not realizing this.

“I uh– Austin asked to go on a second date.” You began and he immediately tensed up, his stomach dropping as his shoulders fell slightly. “But I panicked because I didn’t know how to say no… So I called Robin completely crazy, and she– You wanna know what she fucking suggested?” You turned to look at him and his mood immediately lifted up as he heard you rejected the other man. For a second there he thought you had said yes.

“What did she suggest?” He says, putting his elbow on the table, his head resting on his hand as he looks at you.

“She suggested that I tell him I am actually an undercover agent, trying to look into company secrets and that I was just using him.” Eddie snorted, followed by a chuckle and shaking his head while you giggled at Robin’s stupid suggestions, telling him one by one, making the laughter increase between you two, until Eddie’s laughter ceased but he kept a smile to his face.

“And what did you actually tell him?” He asked and you were just staring at him. He was absolutely beautiful, and your heart was trying to tug you into him, grab his face and pull him towards you, kiss him, wrap your arms around him. You sighed and shrugged at him.

“That I just felt like it was more of a friendship thing than something more.” At that Eddie’s heart soared, and the question was at the tip of the tongue. Did you feel that with him too? God, he really wanted to know. The waitress finally came back with your order and Eddie straightened up, thanking her as she placed the drinks and the food on the table.

You immediately launched to take a fry into your mouth and Eddie smiled as he watched you. Before, you would have waited until he got the first bite, because you didn’t want to seem desperate for food, and you were very tidy with it too. You took fries with your fork before, and now you’re dipping in with your hands.

He was just hoping you were like this with him. Just him.

The two of you fell into your natural talk, even if nervous, even if anxious, it was always so easy to talk. So easy, that you were already on your second drink, asking him if his uncle was coming soon or not.

“Actually, yeah, maybe in a week. I am so fucking excited, it’s been way too long since I’ve last seen him, Claudia and the little shit.” He says with a laugh as he takes another sip of his rum and coke. You giggled at how he referred to his little brother, but you knew he cared deeply for him, still calling him three times a week to know how he is, and sometimes to help Dustin write a campaign of his own. “Still want you to meet him.”

You blushed at that, but you felt yourself growing excited at the thought of meeting part of his family, and that he wants you to. He really wants to introduce you to his Uncle, his father figure. His eyes were on you, body fully turned to face you, your own in the same manner. You smiled up at him, moving your head in a small nod.

“Can’t wait to meet him.”

His arm was over the backrest of the booth, his hand resting right next to you. Your eyes locked with his and that need for him to wrap his arm around you came back. His fingers finally softly touched your shoulder, slow small circles being drawn with the tip of them and you shivered, feeling the goosebumps go all over your body at this small bit of touch from him.

Eddie’s eyes almost widened when he saw something different in the way you were looking at him. Did you even know what you were doing? Looking at him with your pupils a little bit wider than they were before, your fingers on the glass fidgeting, as if trying to do something with them but not having the strength to do it. Oh, everything changed. It definitely changed.

He moved one inch, just one towards you, but his cell phone started vibrating non stop, making him curse under his breath, pulling his arm away from the backrest to face the phone on the table. You didn’t realize that you weren’t breathing, releasing the air that was jailed up in your lungs. You almost reached for him. You almost leaned in, just out of impulse, out of craving. What have you become?

“Fucking christ.” He swipes the phone screen to reject the call and that makes you snap out and look at him with a confused look in your face.

“Who was it?”

“The little–” The phone began vibrating again, and Eddie groaned while throwing his head back, grabbing his phone and answering the video call.

“Eddie, what the fuck! This is important and you haven’t been answering my texts!” You hear the other voice say and you look at the screen, seeing it was Dustin, Eddie’s brother. He raised his head to look at the camera with an angry look on his face and his little brother simply rolled his eyes at him. “What are you doing so important you can’t answer me?”

“Does it look and sound like I’m home, you fucker?” You giggled, covering your mouth with your hand to stifle it but Dustin heard it, a smirk appearing in his face.

“Are you on a date?”

Oh that made Eddie blush, and your giggle ceased again. The thing you both didn’t ask or say, and now you wondered what Eddie was going to say. You gulped, looking up at him and his eyes were already on you. You were waiting for him to answer, you were giving him the option of letting this evening be a friendly one, or something more.

His heart was on his ears as he felt his gut turning with nervousness, but now, he felt hopeful that this feeling was not one sided. If you let him choose, it’s because you wondered if he had asked you out as a friend or not. He opened his mouth to answer but was cut off by Dustin, who gasped, making Eddie’s head turn back to him.

“Is it her?” Dustin suddenly says your name and your eyes widen slightly, while Eddie blushes with a roll of his eyes, followed by a nod of his head. “I wanna meet her!”

“What, no! I’m–”

“I just wanna ask her what house she is in!” And that caught your attention, making you sit up straight and snatch Eddie’s phone out of his hand. He groaned again, a little bit pissed that Dustin completely ruined the moment, and now he was butting in, on the date he didn’t say it was, but it definitely was.

“Hi! I’m Dustin!”

“Little shit.” Eddie corrects and again puts his elbow on the table, looking your way as he rests his head on his hand.

“Eddie told me you like Harry Potter!” Dustin says and you smile into the camera, widely as heat fills your cheeks. Eddie talked about you. He talked about you to his family.

“Yes! I am a potterhead, full fledged.” You say to the curly headed boy in front of you, and Eddie knew he had become non existent at this point, but seeing you smile widely while talking to his brother was making his heart beat faster and yearn for you even more than before.

“I am too! I mean, I am a fan of all nerdy things, but Harry Potter is one of my top 3!” He says with a smile which was super contagious to you, making you smile at him. “Okay so, I am a Hufflepuff, and my Patronus is a dog!” He says and your eyes widen at him, your mouth falling into a surprised one.

“Me too! I am a proud Hufflepuff, but my Patronus is actually a Hippogriff.” Dustin’s eyes widened.

“No fucking way! That one is fucking difficult to get!” Eddie was smiling as he heard you talk, completely entranced by you, excitedly moving your free hand as you talked to Dustin. He wondered if you would be this care free with Wayne and Claudia. God, he really wants to introduce you to them, and the thought scared him before, but seeing you right now he is simply growing impatient for it to happen already.

He used this time to go to the bathroom and relieve himself, looking at himself in the mirror, taking a deep breath in to calm his nerves. God, what is happening right now? You were talking normally, he knew that, but there was something else. It was as if you were expecting something, watching him, and you even scooted closer to him. He wasn’t going to complain, but… Should he make a move? Should he first talk to you?

He chuckles at himself, feeling like a complete hypocrite. He always talks to you about letting go, to stop thinking, to stop dwelling on things in your mind and here he was. But the difference was that he was risking so much if he decided on making the move. But weren’t the signs there? You waited for his answer if this was a date or not! So why is he hesitating so much?

He walks out of the bathroom, walking back towards the booth and he sees a smile line of people outside the bar, waiting to enter. He knew you two were going to get kicked out soon, and he groaned at the thought, sitting in the booth, sliding next to you again as you giggled at Dustin, Eddie’s heart warming again.

“Yeah, but I can’t ever beat him at Mario Kart. He sucks at everything else, but Mario Kart is a fucking pro isn’t he?” You tilted your head at that, and Eddie’s eyes widened at his brother, already cursing him as Dustin kept talking. “Yeah, he told me you couldn’t beat him either.”

Your mouth fell open in surprise, looking at Eddie with complete shock in your face. His eyes were panicked as he looked at you, an innocent small smile appearing in his lips and you bit your bottom lip with your eyebrows raised up and nodded at him, only to snap back at Dustin.

“So he told you he beat me? Cause I don’t remember it like that at all!” Dustin’s face fell, his turn to tilt his head in confusion and Eddie’s arm immediately wrapped around your shoulders, pushing you into him with his hand covering your mouth, rather harshly in order to shut you up as he snatched the phone out of your hands, putting his face on the camera again as your screams and mumbles were muffled into his palm.

“Okay, Dustin, talk to you tomorrow, if this is about the campaign we’ll talk later!”

“What did she mean–” Eddie hung up before Dustin could finish and he dropped the phone on the table with an exasperated sigh. You were wriggling in his grasp and he took the hand off your mouth but his arm was still holding you close. He looked down at you with a frown to his face as you laughed, your hands pressing onto his thigh for support.

“He beats me at every game, he is not going to let me live it down if he knows YOU beat me at Mario Kart!” You were still giggling as you looked up at him.

“But I did beat you at Mario Kart!” You now noticed how close his face was to yours, his arm still holding you close, with his hand now on your shoulder. Your whole body is turned, which was rather uncomfortable, but you didn’t care. You were just inches from touching his lips again, and the burning in your belly ignited, first like a spark, and it was expanding into flames, all over.

“Yeah… You did… But he doesn’t need to know Angel… Let’s keep that secret between us, okay?” His voice lowered, talking to you, privately, intimately and that made your legs clench slightly, already knowing why you were always fidgety with him. Why you were always uncomfortable in that area of yours.

You were aroused.

It was just you two in the bar right now, that’s how it felt like. No one around you. No clients, no waitresses, no barman, no cook… There was no one. You just needed him to close the distance, you were begging him with your eyes to close the distance between you two, but he wasn’t doing anything. Why isn’t he doing anything? You were growing desperate now, and you knew it, but what do you have to do for his lips to be on yours again?

“Can I handle your check?” Eddie wanted to curse at whoever was playing a joke on him from above. Probably his fucking father or something. He sighed as he pulled away from you, looking at the waitress before him. He nodded and you felt as if your breathing had picked up a pace now, feeling your heart hammering in your chest, as you sat straight once more.

You were… Irritated. Why isn’t he kissing you? He’s done it before, why isn’t he doing anything? Maybe he doesn’t want to? But he didn’t say it wasn’t a date, because if it weren’t then he should have said a simple no. You were too into your head that you didn’t notice Eddie paying the waitress until he tapped your shoulder.

“They are basically kicking us out.” He gave you a small smile and you looked at him, still with a lost look in your eyes and nodded, grabbing your things and getting out of the booth with him. You wanted to glare at the people that were in line, because thanks to them they had to start to clear up tables to fill them in.

“You didn’t even let me pay half…” You pouted at him as he walked next to you, but your steps were slow, not wanting the night to end. You didn’t realize that you’ve been sitting there with him for two hours, time passing by way too quickly for your liking.

“Next time is on you.” He says with a smile and your heart jumps at that, making you smile towards the floor trying to hide how flushed you just got. Next time. There will be a next time with just the two of you. You looked up at him, both of you still walking.

“Maybe next time you can help Dustin before so he doesn’t have to interrupt.” You said to him and he was baffled by your answer. You saw Dustin as an interruption when he was close to you. His heart hammered in his chest, and none of you were paying attention to the small concrete boulder on the ground, and when you stepped on it, you tumbled to the side, flailing your arms everywhere.

“Shit!” He grabbed your arms, pulling you into him to steady you as your heart felt like exploding. You felt your world tilting when you stepped on that, giving you a complete heart attack. His chest rumbled with laughter and you looked up at him with a frown and pout in your face.

“Don’t laugh at me! I didn’t see it!” You were embarrassed at your display, but seeing him laugh was making you want to get on the tip of your toes, and plant a kiss on him. God, you want to kiss him, really bad.

“I’m sorry, you just moved your arms everywhere and it was funny.” His laugh slowed down as his head turned to look at you and there was that look on your face again. You were blinking slowly at him, and his blood began rushing south because it almost looked as if you wanted to eat him alive.

Just like he wanted to do to you.

“Eds…?” You were dazed, eyes hazed while staring up at him and your mind was turning into gelatin, coherent thoughts no longer processing in your head, and your palms were splayed on his chest, and you just wanted to rise them up, glide them on his torso and to the back of his head.

“Yes, Angel?” His voice was low, your frame still in his arms as you two stood in the street, and he really was trying to keep himself under control here, but when you were looking at him like that… The only thought that was processed was… Fuck it.

But you flinched, your eyes blinking rapidly as you touched your cheek with your index finger, water covering it. You frowned at it and Eddie was about to ask what happened when he himself felt something on his cheek. He unhooked one arm from you to wipe his face, noticing the drop of water on his hand, and as soon as you both looked up, the sky decided it was time for a waterfall to happen.

The drops were heavy, soaking you both in the lapse of five seconds and you pulled away from Eddie with a squeal, followed by a glare towards him and he was taking off his jacket in a hurry, cursing under his breath to then flop it on your head to cover you from any more rain.

“I TOLD YOU SO!” You yelled at him and he grabbed your hand to start running towards your complex, and he couldn’t help but roar with laughter as he ran. You wanted to murder him and he was laughing at the situation. The streets had puddles already from how heavy was raining as thunder roared in the sky above you both.

“JUST RUN!” He yelled back through his laughter and you couldn’t help but laugh with him as you kept running under the rain, Eddie’s jacket over your head, keeping the rain out of your hair and face. Many people were running from the sudden downpour, some cursing, some laughing, and then some just accepted their fate and walked under the rain.

You two were just running like crazy, laughing hysterically as his hand squeezed yours, your sneakers already full of puddle water which was making you wince in disgust and made you keep whining at him, telling him off that you were right and that you should have gone inside for an umbrella. You took the keys out of your purse desperately as you both reached the complex and he let your hand go.

“Well, Angel, I should–”

“Nope, you’re getting inside and we’re gonna dry ourselves before we catch a fucking cold!” You yelled at him and he wasn’t going to say no, following you inside the lobby as you opened your door. You both rushed to the elevator as you kept laughing at how stupid Eddie had been about the weather.

In the elevator you took the jacket off your head and he grabbed it, trying to shake the water off it and you covered your face to then slap his arm to make him stop. He was laughing at the reflection of the two of you and you noticed that your makeup was running, making you gasp in embarrassment and fix it with your index fingers.

The doors opened at your floor and you grabbed his hand to walk the two of you out of the elevator, rushing towards the warmth of your apartment, your heart beating loudly in your chest, as you opened the door to finally head inside. Eddie closed the door behind him and you motioned for him to take off his boots as you took off your water filled sneakers.

“God, okay, I am not a weatherman, okay? I can make mistakes.” He says with a chuckle, taking off his boots and his socks that were completely drenched. You put your sneakers and socks aside as you looked at him.

“You said you were an expert–”

“Experts can make mistakes sweetheart.” He says to you with a smile, that dimpled smile that made your knees buckle. You studied him, his hair was stuck to his forehead and cheeks, some curls were wet bouncing off, but his bun was still in place. You felt your breathing picking up a pace again, and it wasn’t because of the running. His chest was going up and down, his shirt now completely stuck to his body, letting your eyes roam all over him, and the flames never extinguished. Even when you were running towards here you still felt them, in the hold of his hand, in his laughter, in that moment between the two of you.

You didn’t even turn on the lights of the apartment, but the streetlamps of the street were bright enough to bring some light into the place, and thunder every now and then flashed through the windows. He ran a hand over his face to take off the excess water, and even if you were drenched from head to toe, you were burning. You were really burning as if you had the worst fever ever.

Your consciousness was drifting away again, your body wanting to move as your belly and your need yelled at you. He hadn’t made a move on you all night. He didn’t kiss you, he had touched you but he did go farther than that. The anticipation of him doing something, the anticipation of fully crossing the line, the anticipation of something happening tonight. That’s what you were waiting for, but you were irritated already because of how desperate you were for him.

You want him.

You desire him.

You need him.

“Angel, we should get some towels.” He was oblivious to you, not realizing the desperate look on your face, the fast pace of your breathing, the twitching of your hands, and just because he was looking all over at himself and how incredibly drenched he got from some rain in just a minute.

Your body was trembling almost as you stared at him, your belly burning as you felt the heat right at your core. This, you never felt this before. This intense feeling of wanting someone, of craving someone, of wanting to touch them in every possible way. The thought of that scared you before, but now, you would do anything to see him in the light, bare before you, and you wanted to make him feel good, in the same way he made you feel that night.

Stop thinking.

Stop waiting.

Let go.

Let fucking go.

Eddie looked up only for his eyes to widen when he felt both of your hands reach up to his face, cradling him, and he didn’t even notice you had walked closer to him at all. He stared down at you, seeing that look again in your face as you pulled him down towards you, and you tipped toed upwards.

And you kissed him.

It was soft, yet with pressure, and he was in complete shock, his eyes still wide as you kissed him, in a long peck, your lips not moving, yet he could feel the desire in the kiss, because he could feel how hot your hands were, despite the heavy cold rain that poured on the two of you. You made the move on him. You kissed him. Out of your own accord, no help required, no favor asked.

Your hands trembled as you slowly pulled away, breathing heavily and taking a step back to scan his face. Your body was shaking slightly, not because of the wet clothes on you, but because you wanted to simply jump on him. This new feeling inside of you was making you feel like an animal, and you didn’t know how to control it, not anymore.

He was still looking at you with surprise in his face, his chest increasing its movement as his breathing picked up, and locked eyes with yours. The tension in the air was palpable, and the room grew hotter, and hotter as you two scanned one another. You didn’t think, you let go with him.

Fuck it.

He dropped the wet leather jacket to the floor with a thud, and gave a heavy step towards you, one hand flying towards your waist, wrapping his arm around you while he took the other towards the back of your head, pulling you towards him. You sighed of relief as your arms immediately wrapped around him as his lips clashed desperately against yours.

This kiss was different. It was needy, rough, and it was already burning your lips as you both moved with one another, your fingernails digging into his back as you pressed your body against his, feeling his hand grip onto the small of your back. His fingers went into your wet hair, pulling you deeper into his kiss.

There was no room for thoughts, no room for being conscious of what was going on. You just need this fire to be over, you need it extinguished, but it only grew its flame. You need more, so for the first time, you licked his bottom lip, wanting to feel more of him. He groaned into the kiss, his chest exploding at the thought of you making all the moves today.

You wanted him, you were experiencing desire for the first time ever, and he now understood. You were letting go, letting your instincts take over, letting your body move for you, and you were being consumed by those flames you were annoyed of for the past weeks.

He moved the both of you, your hips slamming against the counter behind you as your tongue danced with his, heavy breaths mixing with one another’s, his hands wanting to roam all over your body but there was still some control in him, even if it was a very thin line. So he kept his hands where he originally put them, while your fingernails were scratching on his scalp, wanting him closer onto your body, feeling his hip against yours and you couldn’t help but whine at the need for more, his blood rushing south in a fast pace as he heard that coming from you.

You had to have more, it’s not enough. God, it’s just not enough. He groaned into your mouth when one of your hands slid down from his head to grab onto his bicep, harshly and without breaking the kiss you pushed yourselves off the counter. You want to take what you desire, want to lose yourself in the feeling so you start taking steps, small steps, guiding him with you, your lips still attached as if your lives depended on it.

He was hesitant to follow you, wanting to pull away to ask if this is what you really wanted, but he didn’t want you to think he didn’t want this. It’s the only thing that’s been in his mind ever since he kissed you back at his apartment, maybe even before that. So the fact that you are the one, guiding him into your bedroom, was making that small control he had in himself slowly begin to snap.

The back of your knees hit the edge of your bed, and the kiss only broke for a second as you fell back, body hitting the mattress below you with a soft huff as you tried to get your breathing back to normal, to get oxygen into your brain so you could think, but Eddie was close behind you, following you as he got on top of you, each knee on the side of your thighs, right on the edge of the mattress, as he leaned down hungrily to take your lips again with his.

You moaned softly into the kiss, making him groan as you wrapped your arms around his shoulders again to pull him close. He wrapped one arm around you, going in between your body and the mattress to lift you slightly up so he can guide you up into the middle of the bed, your legs no longer dangling at the edge and he crawled with you in the movement, trying to never leave your lips.

You were both breathing heavily into each other, tongues mixing in a wild dance, battling for the prize, but it was still not enough. He was hovering over you, not pressing his body against you, and you needed that. You arched your back upwards, looking for him, not knowing yourself for a second there but you were just desperate for him, you needed him, terribly.

He felt your chest hit his and he groaned into the kiss, but he had to be first, and foremost, the good friend you met at that coffee shop. The good friend you trusted from the beginning to help you. The good friend you could be yourself with no matter what. So he slowly, painfully, broke the kiss, his lips still hovering over yours as he spoke, eyes searching for yours.

“Angel… Are you–” And you finally locked eyes with his, and he almost died right then and there. All your features and the wide dilated pupils in your eyes made all of his doubts wash away.

“E-Eds– I–” He knew that if you talked you would think and your mind would start working in search of words, so he immediately clashed his lips on yours again. He was so selfish, but he wasn’t going to miss this chance of you letting go with him. For whatever this evening takes you both, he wasn’t going to miss the chance of experiencing it.

His arm was still wrapped underneath you, so he kneeled up, making you sit up while the kiss never broke between the two of you. He pulled away once more, looking into your eyes to see if there were signs of regret, of panic, of uncertainty, but in your eyes the only thing you could see was him. Just him. The eye contact never broke, as his hands slowly started heading to the back of your dress, finding the zipper at the top of it.

You were both almost panting now as you stared at one another, and when he didn’t see you move away, when he didn’t see you look away, and when he didn’t see your gaze change on him, he held onto the zipper and began pulling it down, slowly. Your body shivered as your belly turned with an anxious feeling you didn’t know how to really describe, but it wasn’t bad, it was the complete opposite of it. You wanted him to take your dress off, and it made you nervous, you knew it by the way your hands trembled, but you still wanted him to take it off, let him touch your bare skin, skin that was burning you almost agonizingly at each soft teasing touch.

Once the zipper was down, and you still haven’t stopped him, he sucked a deep breath in to calm his heart as he grabbed onto the collar of the dress, and started pulling it down. He was going to save your breasts for the final show, first helping you get out of the long sleeves, which was hard to do because of how wet the fabric was, sticking onto your skin.

You took this time to glance at his arms, wanting to bite onto them, wanting him to wrap them around you again as he slowly took the top of your dress off. Fear finally struck you as he pulled the top part down to finally see you in your bra. Your body flushed, feeling bare before him, yet you still looked up to look at his reaction, and his eyes were almost wide, completely clouded at your sight.

When he pulled that part of cloth down, he didn’t expect you to have something like that underneath. That black lace fit you as if it was made specifically for you, and you… You picked that for him. You had chosen to wear this underneath that dress of yours, all night, while talking to him. He cursed under his breath when he felt his bulge twitch in his pants, wanting to break free.

He grabbed the back of your neck, and leaned down towards your face, making your eyelids drop as his breath hit your face. He gave your lips a small peck, yet longing as he slowly pushed you down onto the bed once again. He pulled away from the kiss as he hovered on top of you, both elbows holding himself up to not crush you, fighting his hips upwards so you wouldn’t feel his hard on against your thigh.

His lips found your cheek bone, and you sighed with almost relief, closing your eyes as his lips went further down, going towards your neck, leaving soft breathy kisses all over the skin. He gave a soft tentative nip on your skin, making you jerk upwards, your chest hitting his as he groaned against you.

“You’re so beautiful… God, you’re so fucking beautiful Angel…” You gasped as you held onto his biceps, swallowing the words he just said to you. His lips went even more south, kissing onto your collarbone and the flames just expanded with that. If he kept going you were sure you would combust from the intense burning that was all over your body. His kisses kept going, kissing all over your torso until he reached the top of your breasts. He looked up at you with a lost look in his eyes and you looked down at him, breathing heavily as you gave him a nod.

“Please…” You begged, almost whined, and he didn’t have to be told twice. He dipped his hand behind your back, and you lifted slightly so he could get access to the hook of your bra. He expertly snapped it open with one movement, and you dropped onto the mattress again. He could feel the heat that was radiating off your body, how flushed you were.

Your mind started moving its gears again when you felt him pull the first strap down. What if he didn’t like them? What if they are too bland? Too boring? Maybe little more than what he normally is used to? Not perfect and perky? What if he–

A kiss on your cheek stopped your mind from reeling any further, and you looked at Eddie who had a lust filled look in his features as he breathed a little heavily over you. He now decided to let you know how bad you had him in the palm of your hand, how incredibly turned on he was with you underneath him, so he pressed his hip against your thigh. Your eyes widened when you felt the bulge hitting on your skin, and your control left your mind once more.

“You’re perfect… So fucking perfect.” He whispered to you as he took the other strap down and your body relaxed as he took the constricting device off your body, the breeze hitting your wet skin, making your nipples stand up at it. Reality hit you, now being conscious that Eddie was seeing you half naked right now. You were going to start talking but his lips hungrily found yours again.

He took one glance, just one glance at your breasts and he was gone. He needed to feel you, he desperately needed you now, his heart tugging on him so intensely that he believes he is going to die on the spot. He threw the bra away, not caring where it landed as his hand pressed onto your waist, to let you know he was there. You breathed softly against his lips as his fingertips started trailing up on your body.

Your eyes widened when you felt his cold hand come in contact with your left nipple, sensitivity shooting a shockwave through your body, making your arch your back towards his touch. His tongue was in your mouth, swallowing your soft moan, making him hold a groan back as he greedily rubbed himself on your thigh once, to get some friction.

His index finger started circling your nipple, perking it up even more, and you couldn’t help but pull away from the kiss to throw your head back onto the pillow, a low moan escaping your lips. You never felt this when someone touched your breasts, but you felt this a hundred times more, even more than when you touch yourself there. Eddie was basically doing magic on you right now.

He was panting as he looked at your blissed out face, and he pinched your nipple once, gently to see you jerk up, another moan escaping you and he licked his lips as he hungrily stared down at you. He used your exposed neck, planting a kiss there, and then on the other side as his thumb and index finger kept pinching you, rolling your nipple in between his digits.

He was too hungry for you, trailing his kisses back down towards your collarbone, and you were too distracted into the bliss of his fingers, that you didn’t notice his kisses at the top of your right breast, kissing now all around the mound, and he looked at you one last time before he placed his mouth onto your nipple.

Your eyes snapped open at the feeling, looking down at him and your core burnt with the sight of him, groaning, almost moaning against your skin, enjoying every lick and bite he did to you. Your hands were gripping his shoulders, tightly as moans ripped from your mouth and your back arched at him.

Your taste was something he was never going to forget in his life, nor get tired of. He was in pure bliss as he gave you this pleasure you never experienced, and he hoped he was going to be the only one to give that to you. He sucked on your lip to then let go with a pop, letting his tongue flick onto the nub a couple of times, making you shiver under his touch, your eyes closed as your head was to the side, enjoying his ministrations.

He dragged his tongue to the center of your breasts to then land a kiss there. He then began trailing more kisses, going downwards and your breathing hitched when he grabbed onto the lower part of your dress. He gave you a look as he sat up, letting you choose again if he continued or not. Your answer, even if nervous, even if thoughts wanted to go off in your brain, your instincts and your body didn’t let it. Your hips raised up from the bed and he sucked in a sharp intake of breath as he began pulling the dress off you.

He dropped it somewhere in the room and he had a perfect view of your body now. You were almost naked, on your bed, giving yourself to him in a way he didn’t think was possible. His chest was going up and down rapidly, fingertips trembling. He wanted to devour you, take you, make you his, and ruin you, absolutely ruin you for anybody else. Ruin you to the point you wouldn’t be able to forget about him. Ruin you with the intent of branding himself on your skin and mind.

No one can have you, but him.

Your body burnt at his gaze, and you were about to cover yourself out of embarrassment and he shook his head at you, running his hands on your thighs.

“I am admiring you Angel… You– You don’t know what you’re doing to me.” You didn’t expect to hear that from him, but as your gaze looked downwards you could see how big the bulge underneath his pants were. You didn’t even touch him, and yet he was there, turned on by just touching you.

He leaned down again, crawling a little bit downwards as he placed a kiss on your stomach, and then at your waist. You covered your mouth as his kisses started going beyond the elastic band of your thong, kissing over your thigh, and then moving onto the other one. His fingers moved upwards and grabbed onto the edge of your thong.

Your eyes widened and you flinched away from him, fear striking you suddenly as the nerves took over you. He looked up at you to see if you were regretting it, if you wanted to stop, but your eyes were simply confused, nervous, and doubtful. He licked his lips as he kneeled up again, to lean over you so he could gaze at your eyes more closely.

“Do you want me to stop?” Did you? You definitely didn’t, but he was going to see you there, he was going to be able to see it. Last time he couldn’t and just touched you, but now he wanted to be face to face with your center. Yet, as you looked up at him, you could see some desperation in his eyes, almost a plea, a beg. You shook your head slowly at him and he gave you a small smile. “Trust me…”

You nodded gently at him, and he looked down again to hook his finger at the band of your thong. He sat back and lifted your legs so he could slowly slide it away from you. Your eyes clenched together and before you could move and hide yourself by clenching your legs shut, he placed himself in between them, your knees hitting his hips.

He crawled down again, looking down at your center like a starved man. He couldn’t just dive in, even if he were as hungry as ever, he couldn’t. You were nervous, and he knew that, so he looked up at you and saw your eyes just looking everywhere at the ceiling.

“Eds— I– No one has ever…–” And he knew what you meant, so he started his kissing again, trying to soothe your tensed up legs, bending your knees slightly as he kissed the top of your thighs first, soft kisses and tender bites to let your relax, to tell you in his own way that he is going to take care of you, that he is not there to judge you, and that you didn’t make him do anything. He is doing it out of his pure greediness, his own selfishness, his own hunger and his own fire.

“I’ll make you feel good love… It’s just me.” Those last words always relaxed you, always made your nerves slip away even if slightly, because he was right. It was just him. And you were glad it was always him, you were happy it was just him, you were excited that it was only him. His lips were now in your left inner thigh, kissing you gently, longingly, moving towards your center, and then repeating the actions on the right inner thigh, making you tremble with anticipation, your core clenching on nothing as you waited for what he could do to you.

And then he took a deep breath in, taking your scent in, seeing how wet you already were for him, and finally pressed a kiss over your clit, a gentle one, but it was enough to make you jerk at the sensation, your hands gripping onto the sheets below you. Your eyes were wide at this new sensation, and your belly turned from finally getting something to numb the burning ache. His arms were now under your thighs, and his hands gripped your hips to keep you in place as he finally gave in to his hunger and dove in.

A moan escaped your lips when he licked all along your slit, flicking your nub at the end, and repeating the motion again. Your mind turned into mush as he pressed himself into your center, licking and tasting you. You could feel his tongue flicking on your clit, and he started doing a motion you didn’t think it was possible to do with tongue. Your moans escalated as he moved his head up and down on you, gathering your slick as he groaned at the taste, the tip of his tongue sliding in between your folds repeatedly to feel your walls clenching on nothing.

He couldn’t believe how sweet you tasted. He could spend a lifetime here in between your legs if he could, if you’d let him, just taking orgasm after orgasm from you, never satiating his hunger for you. He was listening to your moans, to your panting as your back arched upwards and then it fell back down on the mattress. Your hips sway slightly against him.

He then pressed his face against your center, nose against your clit as his tongue went inside of you and your eyes widened as stars filled your eyes. You could feel him move inside of you, and it was different from his fingers, but still made you moan even louder than before as your belly was building up that tension, slowly, that needed to break.

“Ed-Eddie–” Oh god, his name is on your lips again. He pulled his mouth away from you to flick your clit with the tip of it. His arm let go of your thigh, to bring it in between your legs. He sucked on your clit, your back arching as he coated his fingers in your wetness, first pushing his middle finger in.

A whimper came out of your lips at the feeling of your clit being stimulated as he plunged inside. The room was definitely on fire right now, the heat of it all being too harsh, but yet feeling so good. This is what you wanted. You didn’t want it extinguished, you wanted it to burn you alive. His finger started thrusting in and out of you as he kept stimulating your clit with his tongue and mouth.

He looked up and he almost came in his pants at the sight. You were moaning with no restraints, some ‘god’ and ‘fuck’ came out here and there, and he couldn’t help but rub himself against the mattress for some friction, because he was going to explode if he didn’t. His eyes looked at your hand on the mattress, so with his other hand, he let go of your thigh to guide towards your hand, getting hold of it.

Your eyes opened and looked down at him. His eyes closed as he guided your hand to his head, dropping his own to wrap around your thigh again as he pulled you into him once more. You were seeing him devouring you, his finger still going in and out of you as your body rocked slightly against him. Your hand immediately closed onto the top of his head, nails going into his curls, a groan being pushed inside your center as you did so.

The elastic band was slowly growing wider and wider, ready to snap in your belly, as your body heated up at the orgasm that was building inside of you. He felt the clenching of your walls around his middle finger, so he decided to help even more with his index finger, now both fingers stretching out as he pumped them in and out. His mouth never leaves your sensitive and throbbing nub.

Your eyes widened again, your hand pulling his head into you and then your other hand found itself into his curls as well, your belly now burning as he kept eating you as if your substance was the elixir of the gods. And for Eddie, it definitely was. He was still rubbing himself against the mattress as he felt your walls clenching around his fingers and your body twitched several times.

“I– I– Eddie, I’m gonna–” You were stammering in your words, not being able to think straight at all as he kept mouthing at you, fingering you, even faster than before, curling his fingers inside of you so that he could hit that spongy part within you, that part no one but him has ever touched before.

He groaned in approval and moved his head up and down on you to move his tongue even faster, and he felt you moving your hips against him, trying to reach your climax and help him get to it faster. The coil finally snapped and your back arched all the way up as your walls clenched onto his fingers, tightly, and he could barely move them from how tight you were, groaning onto your clit as his eyes looked up to see you like this for him.

You were moaning his name, loudly, your hands still on his hair, gripping onto it as he helped you ride your orgasm out, tasting your fluids on his tongue. He slowly felt your walls unclench on his fingers, and he could take them out of you, but before he would completely detach himself from you, he licked a wide stripe of your slit to collect your juices, groaning in delight at the taste as you flinched away from the over sensitivity.

You were panting heavily, looking at the ceiling with half lidded eyes, and you thought the flames would be gone, that after that they would simply fade away… But they didn’t… And as you saw him crawling back up, his face over yours again, your slick being wiped off by his wrist, and that made you tremble slightly once again.

So, have you got the guts?

“We can stop here… There is no need to keep going if you don’t want to.” You looked up at him, searching to see if he wanted to stop, if he wanted to really end the night here, unlike yourself. You didn’t want to stop, you needed more, you wanted more, this wasn’t enough, because you wanted to make him feel good too, but overall… You wanted to feel him.

Your hands reached up to grab onto the hem of his shirt, and he immediately realized what you wanted. He sat back, and throwing his hand over his head, he grabbed the back of his shirt and pulled it off in one swift move. You slowly sat up, your breathing still heavy from the orgasm that exploded in you a minute ago, but for the first time, you could see him.

Tattoos lingered all over his body, a few patches of uncovered skin were there, but now you found yourself amazed by all the tattoos you had to trace. These new markings you wanted to mentally take a screenshot of to always remember them. Your hands lifted up, your mind filled with desire and lust, as you finally touched his abdominal area, making him throw his head back in a circle, a groan being restrained in his throat.

Been wondering if your heart's still open, and if so, I wanna know what time it shuts.

He’s been touched like this before, but this is the first time he felt cared for, as if you were making sure to touch every little piece of skin that there was so that he knew you desired him as much as he desired you. Remember every small part of you, every little twitch, every marking, every mole, freckle…

Your hands traveled upwards towards his pecs, running your hands over them and Eddie’s eyes widened when he felt your lips kiss over his belly button. He couldn’t wait anymore. He really couldn’t. He grabbed your shoulders and gently pulled you off him, so he could grab the back of your head, pulling it back so he could dive in and press a deep kiss on your lips.

You moaned into it, your hands still on his body as you ran your fingertips all over his waist, making his skin grow in goosebumps. With his free hand, he guided it towards his belt, the clinking of the buckle opening catching your attention, pulling away from him with a gasp. You were looking at how he took the leather strap off him, throwing it to the side, a clank being heard from the metal hitting the floor.

Simmer down and pucker up

He licked his lips in anticipation as he tried to keep his breathing under control, but fuck, he never felt this way when having sex before, and he was afraid of fucking it up. His eyes widened though, when he felt your trembling fingers touching the button of his jeans. He gulped audibly as he looked down at you, pulling the button off and then slowly gliding the zipper down, just like he did with the zipper of your dress.

He stood up from the bed, right next to you to be able to take his pants off, which were a still wet mess, and you just stared at him, standing in your room in his boxers only. Your eyes widened at the prominent bulge that were covered by the black fabric, and you felt your mouth salivate, for the first time in your life, while looking at someone’s hard on. It didn’t happen with the men you dated before, but with Eddie, everything was just pure craving, pure desire, pure and absolute want.

And you weren’t shying away from it.

He saw how you were watching him and he took a step closer to you so you could make the final move on him, the one that will determine how the rest of the night is going to go. You looked up at him, and the only person you saw was Eddie… Your sweet Eddie… And your hands moved by themselves as they grabbed onto the hem of his boxers, slowly dragging them down until you could finally see him, in all of his glory. It was large, and you really don’t remember enough to compare it to your exes, but this one, you knew you would remember. Before, you would have died to have complete darkness in the room, so you didn’t have to see them, but as the thunder struck against the sky and illuminated the room through the windows, it was like a camera flash to you, taking pictures of him, scanning him all over.

And you wanted him, you really wanted him.

You looked up at him, and he immediately knew what you were trying to tell him, with just one look into your eyes. He leaned down to grab onto your jaw with his thumb and index finger, leaning down to press a soft kiss on your lips. You moaned against the touch and he groaned as his dick twitched, not being able to handle the anticipation any longer. He pulled away from the kiss to mumble against your lips.

I'm sorry to interrupt, it's just I'm constantly on the cusp of trying to kiss you.

“Condoms are in my jacket–” You couldn’t afford the seconds it took for him to go get his jacket, so you opened the drawer on your night table to show him the box of condoms you had there. He raised an eyebrow at it and then directed it at you. Nervousness broke into your body as you looked down.

“I-I bought them after we– you started giving me advice…” He smirked at you and then grabbed onto the box, closing the drawer. An unopened box of condoms. He opened the pack and took a foil out, and then pushed you to lay back down onto the bed as he kneeled in between your legs again. Your breathing picked up again as you saw him rip the foil off with his teeth, taking the latex out of the package.

I don't know if you feel the same as I do.

He threw the rest somewhere on the floor, and you watched as he slowly rolled the condom on his shaft, your center clenching at nothing as he groaned at the friction of finally being able to touch himself. If he was this sensitive with just rolling the condom on himself, he was sure he wasn’t going to last with you. Your legs were bent and spread, him coming closer to you to finally cover your body with his, his elbows keeping him up in order to not crush you.

He leaned down to take your lips in his again, this time softer, tenderly, and your eyes closed into the feeling, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. Your lips moved with one another’s, feeling your heart beating into your throat as you lost yourself into his tongue, but then your eyes widened when you felt him line himself up against you.

He groaned into the kiss when he felt his tip going in, just his tip, and he was already moaning at the feeling of it. This was definitely different from any other times he had sex. This wasn’t just that, it was way more, because he felt his whole body being run over by electricity and fire included.

But we could be together... if you wanted to.

“Angel, you need to relax– Relax for me…” You didn’t notice how tense you were until he pulled away from you to tell you that. Your eyes locked with his and he was looking down at you with care, with so much care and worry that you sighed, feeling your heart warm at his thought, and your muscles relaxed on him. One of his elbows was keeping him up, while his other hand was pressed on your waist to have some leverage on reality.

He looked down to where you two were beginning to connect as he sunk further, holding in a groan in his throat again, closing his eyes at the feeling, and your mouth fell into a voiceless gasp, staring at the ceiling. It felt good, yet it was a big stretch, but god it felt good. It was painfully good. You could feel him going deeper, each second that passed, your hands all over his back, nails scratching onto his skin.

He leaned down into your exposed neck to make him think of something else as he pulled back slightly, to then thrust into you again, this time further, letting a choked moan escape your lips. He kissed your skin, as he groaned into it, feeling your chest heaving up and down from the intense pleasure you were starting to feel.

Do I wanna know, if this feeling flows both ways?

“Pl–Please Eddie–” He raised his head to look down at you, to look into your eyes when he finally made the final push, and he bottomed out inside of you, a gasp escaping your lips as a groan escaped his.

“Fuck…” He couldn’t help but curse at the extreme feeling he was experiencing with you. You were full of him, and you loved it, god you were loving it. Your heartbeat against your chest as your legs raised up against his hips to feel him even more into you. He looked at your eyes again and you nodded slowly, not wanting to wait any longer, the room already becoming hell from how hot it was, and he sucked a deep breath in as he threw his hips back, and slowly thrusted back inside of you.

Moans filled the room, volume increasing at each slow thrust of his, a pace that was driving him insane, but when looking down at your face, he knew you were loving. He leaned down to kiss your cheek as he kept moving his hips against yours, your hands gripping the back of his head as he moaned into your skin, his muscles flexing at the intensity of it all.

You needed more, more, more, you couldn’t stop chanting that word in your head, so your hips started moving, going against his rhythm to fasten the pace, to make him go deeper into you, because your belly was screaming for more, your heart was tugging for more, your body needed more of him, more of Eddie.

Sad to see you go, was sorta hoping that you'd stay.

“You don’t know– You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this… To have you like this– fuck.” He moaned into your ear and you whimpered at the words, tears prickling in your eyes as he caught your message and his pace quickened, now the slapping of skin being louder, causing your body to flush all over, and you wanted to tell him the same, you wanted to express to him that you wanted him, that you took some time to realize it, but it had always been there.

He pulled away from your skin to put both hands at the side of your head, staring down at you, as his hips started snapping against yours, the feeling of him inside of you deeper than before, the force of his thrusts sending you into a crazed state, into a place in your mind where you didn’t know who you were, or where you were at.

Your legs wrapped around his waist and he moaned a curse when he felt you pushing him into yourself, your nails scratching onto his arms now, your mouth open with moans coming out of it, eyes closed and lost in the pleasure. He gulped heavily as he looked down at your body, taking mental pictures of how you bounced, of how you moved, of how your body twitched and yearned for him.

Baby, we both know… That the nights were mainly made for saying things that you can't say tomorrow day.

“Eddie– Eddie, god–” You moaned loud, your senses all filled with him, your body marked by him, your insides being full of him, each hard thrust, every change of pace, every moan you heard from him. You couldn’t have enough, and your belly was already coiling again with that elastic band, wanting to break loose.

He was breathing heavily, sweat now prickling on his skin instead of the water rain from before. He felt himself getting close, how could he not? He had rubbed himself on you, on the mattress, and pleasuring you was almost enough to make him finish right then and there. He stopped his movements to wrap his arms around you, lifting your upper body off the mattress, as he sat back, making you sit on him in a straddling position.

“Ed-Eds, I don’t know, this position–” You breathed heavily as your mind tried to think again but he shook his head, holding onto your hips as he kissed your neck softly, mumbling onto your skin.

“I’ll guide you, I’ll help you—” And he started guiding you up and down on him, slowly, as your hands clenched on his shoulders, your mouth falling agape at how deeper he was than before. You never changed positions, and this was very new to you, but your embarrassment was completely overshadowed by the incredible lust you were feeling, by the desire of wanting to keep making him feel good.

Crawling back to you. Ever thought of calling when you've had a few? 'Cause I always do.

You followed his guidance, your hips moving up and down, almost bouncing on him, his thighs clenching at the feeling as his moans filled the room. His arms were wrapped around you, pulling you flushed into his own body. He just wanted you close, closer, wanting to feel your skin on his as you both tried to near your climax. Your hand creeped up onto his hair, and just like that first night you saw each other, you grabbed his ponytail, with no guidance, and pulled his hair off the bun he had, letting his curls fall down onto his shoulders. He smiled up at you, shaking his head as you leaned down to capture his lips with your own, licking onto his bottom lip as you kept your pace on him.

Your walls started clenching on him, and he knew he was going to lose it. He pulled away from you and then he leaned down to take a nipple of yours into his mouth, sucking on it, and that made you throw your head back with a loud moan escaping your lips, the coil in your belly about to break, about to make you see stars once more. Your nails were digging into his skin, and you needed more friction, you needed more.

“Eddie– Eddie–” You asked for him, you asked for help, and he nodded, pulling away from your chest to look up at you. He pushed your hips down, not letting you go up again, and started motioning you to go forward and back, rubbing yourself on him. Your eyes widened when you felt this new feeling. This position was letting you rub your spongy part on him, your g-spot, repeatedly, and that was making your mind lose complete control of your body.

Your hips started grinding against his, faster, and faster, trying to reach that climax, and he was almost whining underneath you, trying to hold in his own orgasm to be able to feel you around him first. He needed to feel you clench around him, he needed it. Your upper body was thrown back slightly as one hand was gripped onto his shoulder and the other on his arm that was still holding you.

“Fuck, Angel–” You looked like a goddess to him right now, using him for your own pleasure, grinding faster and faster until he felt your tense up, the elastic band in your belly breaking again, your vision going completely white as your walls clenched tightly around him, a new type of climax, one that would not compare to anything else in your entire life.

Maybe I'm too busy being yours to fall for somebody new, now, I've thought it through.

“Eddie–!” You screamed his name and he was moaning as he felt your walls sucking him in and he couldn’t hold it in anymore, your name falling off his lips in a chant, in a prayer as his own body stiffened, and he finally released himself inside of the condom, his heart exploding inside his chest as you both rode your orgasms with one another.

Heavy pants were heard all over the room, and Eddie held you up as your body felt a little wobbly from everything you just experienced. Your mind was almost gone, drifting away, slowly, your eyes heavy but there is so much you want to say, so much you want to do, but the fire was gone. For the first time, the fire was gone for a while.

“Angel–” He breathed out, and he felt you clench on him again, making him curse. “Don’t do that… Sweetheart, let’s get cleaned up…” He really didn’t want to move, but he knew you two were completely soaked in sweat, in rain, and that you needed to clean yourself. He helped you off him, pulling out of you earning a whimper from your part at the loss of him.

He got up from the bed and he noticed the hazy look in your eyes. You were drained, he knew that, so he guided you into the bathroom for you to clean yourself up as he took the wet comforter off your bed for the two of you to lay on dry sheets at least. His heart was wildly beating in his chest, taking the condom off him and tying it up. He looked at the tissues that were on the other night table, grabbing some to put the condom inside to hide it in a ball of paper, before cleaning himself with some tissues.

He heard the toilet flush, and he looked at the door to see you walking inside in still a dizzy state, and opening the sheets to finally get inside. He smiled at you, knowing how much energy was just drained from you. He pulled the sheets open to move towards you. You were looking at him, trying to keep your eyes open to talk to him, but only one thing came out.

“I want to kiss you…” He felt his whole body relax at that, leaning down to place a soft kiss on your lips. You gave a sigh out of relief as you immediately fell asleep. His heart was in his throat as he looked down at you, breathing evenly now, and he took a deep breath in as he laid down on the bed himself, and he looked at you again.

He never cuddled after sex. Cuddling after sex meant you cared for the other person, so he never felt the need to do such a thing, but now… He needs to keep you close. He needs to keep you with him at all times. He needs you to be in his arms at every time possible, because he can’t ever let go of you again. No, he can’t let you go.

He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close to him as you mumbled something in your sleep, finally making you rest on top of his chest as he stared up at the ceiling. His heart was exploding, he knew that, but he wanted you. He really wanted you. He had wanted you for the past month. He got you, and it wasn’t enough, and he knew it wasn’t going to be enough.

With a smile to his face, he closed his eyes, succumbing to sleep, knowing that tomorrow everything will change between the two of you, and there was no escaping it, no way of avoiding it. Now, it was time to face it all, and Eddie was going head first because for you… Everything was worth it when it came to you.

Do you want me crawling back to you?

End of part 6

A/N: So... yeah. Here you saw the reason why this fic is called Do I wanna know... and if it wasn't specific enough, it is indeed Eddie's feelings towards Reader.

I hope you liked this chapter, i hope you stayed far enough and always reblog your artists!

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luv4kozume · 2 months

Text

🏹 𝐁𝐀𝐃 𝐁𝐎𝐘 — MATT STURNIOLO

Part 02 [final part]

Previous: Part 01

BadBoy!Pervert!Matt x GoodGirl!Fem!Reader

Contains: Swearing, private college au, slow burn, pet names (sweetheart, princess, baby), dry humping, public sexual acts, stoner!matt, teasing, praise, oral f!receiving, doggy, exhibitionism kink, dorm sex, unprotected sex, squirting, multiple f!orgasms, creampie, aftercare, enemies to lovers. Proof read!

Synopsis: A story in which you want to forget all about last night but Matt is determined to recreate it.

Word Count: 5,107+

a/n: GOT SO MANY COMMENTS AND MESSAGES IN MY INBOX FOR PART 2 SO HERE IT IS!! ENJOY BABIES!! 💋

*:･ﾟ✧ 💌 *:･ﾟ✧

You rolled over in bed, entangling yourself in your sheets. A low groan slipped past your lips as your alarm chimed obnoxiously. A lazy hand reaches over and pressed snooze, unplugging your phone from the wall in the process.

The past two mornings have not been in your favor. Just the other morning you were scrambling last minute, rushing to get to class. And now, you had barely gotten any rest last night because of what happened yesterday.

The bed creaked as you sat up, hastily rubbing away at your eyes until they had finally adjusted to the bright, early morning sunshine. You kick your sheets off and your feet press into the plush carpet down below. Grabbing your shower caddy full of your toiletries; ready to start your day on a seemingly positive note.

That was, until you nearly screamed when you saw your own horrid reflection in the bathroom mirror. A very large and prominent dark bruise sat proudly at the nape of your neck. Your fingers gently grazed against the marking, as it was still rather sensitive from the day before.

How did you not notice before? How embarrassing— and for it to be Matt out of all people.

A mixture of emotions conjured inside you; humiliation, frustration, shock. But something else was thrown in the mix. Just a hint of excitement.

Memories of yesterday came pouring back in— Matt’s hands and mouth all over you, his cologne, his eyes, his words. Just reminiscing had you nearly melting away.

You were forced back into reality once you heard banging on the bathroom door. One of the girls who lived in the dorms shouting at you to hurry up in there.

Your heart raced as you frantically brushed your teeth and styled your hair. How on earth were you going to hide this hickey?

*ೃ༄

The classroom was peaceful and quiet, as you typed away on your laptop, listening to the professor’s monotonous lecture. You had successfully went through the morning without anyone asking you why the hell you’re wearing a hoodie in the middle of August.

That was, until he showed up— fashionably late, of course.

The door swung open, naturally you look up. Only to be met by his perverted stare. His lips curled up in a sly smirk, giving you a wink.

Your stomach flipped as your eyes darted back to your screen. There was no way you could keep this little thing going on with him.

“Hey.” He whispered, taking his seat next to you rather than his usual behind you.

You looked down at your skirt, tugging at the hem as if he hadn’t seen all of you just the night before. His thigh touched yours as he manspread, resting his elbows on the desk.

“Hi Matthew.” You huffed, ignoring him and giving your laptop your undivided attention.

“Government name, huh?” He chuckled, leaning in towards your ear to whisper the next part. “You weren’t saying much of that last night.”

You gasped, giving him a not-so-playful punch to the chest. You were completely mortified. How could he say such a thing in public? All you could do was pray that the people around didn’t overhear.

“What’s up with this? You’re not burning up right now?” Matt asked, his fingers pinching the sleeve of your royal blue hoodie.

You shot him a glare, “I have to wear this because of you, dumbass.”

“Huh?” He protested, his brows twisting in confusion.

You let out a strangled sigh, looking around the room before pulling down the collar of your hoodie; revealing how carried away he got while kissing your neck last night.

“Holy shit.” Matt chuckled, balling up his fist to his mouth. Clearly he was amused, not seeing how much this had affected you.

“It’s not funny.” You scoffed, turning away from his eyes.

After a few uncontrollable giggles leaving from him, he was finally able to gather his composure; attempting to give you the most reassurance he was able to, “Okay. Sorry, sorry.”

You kept your eyes on your screen, completely disregarding his foolish, immature antics. His laughing finally came to a stop when he realized how upset you really were about all this.

“Come on, baby.” Matt mumbled, flattening his palm to your thigh. You jolted in your seat at the sudden gesture. “Please talk to me.”

“Matt!” You whisper-shouted as you swatted his probing hand away.

He shot his hands up in defense, as you readjusted your uniform.

“Don’t call me that.” You muttered.

“Princess, then? You seemed to like that the other day.” Matt spoke, you couldn’t decipher if this was more of his playful banter or just him being an asshole.

“No.” You replied, your voice stern and rigid.

“Sweetheart?” He shrugged.

Before you could open your mouth to reply the bell rang. You let out a sigh of relief, you were finally going to be free from this idiot.

He watched as your quickly gathered your things, throwing them into your tote and swinging it over your shoulder.

Matt didn’t try to stop you from leaving, although he fought ever fiber in his being to do so. He figured it was best to leave you alone for a bit. That way you’d have plenty of time to cool down before he tried talking to you again.

His chin rested in his hand, watching you scurry out of the classroom— shamelessly running his gaze over your legs as you left.

*ೃ༄

You exhaled a sigh, sinking down into the plush burgundy chair. You elbows rested on the table as you waited for your computer to power up. Your eyes flickered back and forth across the nearly empty library, just a few students scattered about, minding their own business.

That’s what you loved most about the library. There were little to no distractions, nothing but peace and quiet. It was by far your favorite spot on the entire campus.

But most of all, there was no Matt in sight. You knew for a fact that he wouldn’t be caught dead in a place like this. You were surprised he had even made it this far in his education, considering the fact that you’ve never even seen him pick up a book.

Your fingers hovered over your keyboard, typing in your password and opening up the search engine. You were finally beginning to feel productive and forgetting about last night until you were interrupted.

“I knew I’d find you here.” Matt cooed, leaning over the table, his lips hovering just over your ear.

Your brows raised as you jumped in your seat, you hadn’t even notice him walk in.

“How?” Is all you could get out, looking up into his gaze.

“Because you’re the only person I know that would choose to study on a Saturday.” The brunette smirked as he pulled up a chair right next to yours.

As much as you wanted to stay angry with him, you just couldn’t. All the memories came flowing back in; how good he made you feel. But you were too wrapped up in your own head to let him know how badly you still craved for his touch.

“Plenty of others do.” You reply, gesturing your hand around the library. Although, you could literally count on one hand how many other people filled the library so it didn’t exactly help your case.

“Wow, so many.” He joked, putting his hands up in defense, earning a giggle from you. “Did you just laugh?”

“Shut up.” You smiled, turning your head back down to your laptop. Your eyes darted over to him as he leaned in towards the table.

His silver chain dangling over his chest and his adam’s apple moved as he spoke in a low, raspy tone that made you press your thighs together, “What are you working on?”

“It’s an essay for English.” You squeaked out. There was no way you were really getting shy around this moron. He had to be doing this shit on purpose.

His eyes flickered up to yours and then down to your thighs, “Looks like you need to relieve some stress, sweetheart.”

“What did I say about the nicknames?” You reply in an unamused tone.

“I know you like the shit, so stop faking it.” He whispered in your ear, his voice sending tingles down your spine and butterflies in your stomach. Yeah, he was definitely doing the shit on purpose. He practically had you wrapped around his finger.

“I’m not faking anything.” You scoff as you press your palm against his chest, pushing him back from you. He stared at you in a way that made you feel like he could see all the dirty little thoughts running through your head. Like you were just an open book for him and he needed so desperately to flip through the pages.

He wasn’t completely wrong, though. That’s what pissed you off the most. That he, of all people, had this much of an effect on you.

A devious smirk tugged at the brunette’s lips as he leaned back into the chair, his arms draping along the armrests and his legs naturally spread open.

You didn’t mean to look, but you just couldn’t help it when your eyes trickled down to his groin. His belt hugging around his waist, reminiscing over the lewd sound of it unbuckling just last night.

He soaked up your sweet little reaction when your eyes met the very obvious bulge in his slacks. He bucked his hips up, teasing you with the suggestive motion as he “got comfortable” in his seat.

“Come here.” He whispered, nodding his head down to lap.

Your heart raced in your chest, frantically turning around to see if anyone was watching. Sure there were only a few people but anything could happen, anyone could see. Was he really worth the risk?

“I’m not gonna ask again.” He spoke, his tone more firm this time.

“Okay, fine.” You huff, grabbing onto the sides of your laptop, sliding it against the wooden table as you lifted up your hips.

A pleased grin sat proudly on Matt’s face, catching just the slightest glimpse of your panties under that skirt of yours before you sat down on his lap. His hands grabbed onto your waist, fighting the urge within himself to thrust up into you.

“Sorry.” You whisper, peeking over your shoulder as you began to rock your hips against him. You attempted to adjust yourself so that you weren’t sitting right on top of his erection but he made it blatantly clear that’s exactly where he wanted you.

“No need to be sorry, sweetheart.” He cooed, his thumbs tracing soft circles into your back through the soft, thick fabric of your hoodie. “I don’t mind.”

His words sent shivers down your spine, quickly turning your head to avoid his lustful eyes. You exhaled a sigh, praying that nobody saw the way you were positioned with him right now. How would even begin to explain yourself?

Your breath hitched in your throat as you felt his fingertips slip underneath the hem of your pleated skirt, the warmth of his hands hugging around your hips. Slowly he began rocking your hips against him, your pussy dragging along the bulge tucked away in his pants. A pool of warmth filled your panties, letting out a flushed breath each time he’d bump against your clit.

“Matt.” You whispered in slight protest, but the two of you knew for a fact that the last thing you wanted was for him to stop.

“Hush baby, you don’t wanna get caught, right?” He coaxed in a taunting voice, “Just focus on that essay, you know I got you.”

You weren’t in much a position to fight back, he knew exactly what to say to have you putty in his hands. With that, you did exactly what you were told, facing your attention back to your laptop, attempting to type a few words but Matt made it incredibly difficult.

“Missed your pussy so much, been craving it ever since.” He slurred out, lifting your skirt up a bit so that he could watch you grind against him.

His dick was terribly hard, pressing harshly against his zipper as it ached each time your ass pressed down on it. It took everything in him to not unbuckle his belt and bend you over the table. Stuffing you full of his cock as you screamed out his name like last time.

You shivered in his touch as his hands traveled lower, cupping the plush skin of your thighs. A rush of his cologne came pouring into your nostrils as he leaned over, aligning his lips to your ear.

“Do you miss me too?” You could hear the cocky smirk in his question.

“Fuck.” You cursed, feelings the pads on his fingertips slip in between your thighs, his dominate hand slowly inching up towards your core. You grinded towards his touch, needy for more.

“I think I got my answer.” He says, running his fingers along the fabric of your panties. Giving your clit a teasing stroke before continuing, “I can feel your pussy throbbing. You want me to make it better?”

Before you could give him an answer you were soon snapped back into a harsh reality when you heard one of the books on the shelves slam onto the floor. You heart pounded in your chest, frightened by the sudden noise.

You jumped back into your original seat, leaving Matt’s lap. He, of course, was completely unfazed but you were the complete opposite as you anxiously scanned the library to make sure nobody saw how hot and heavy the two of you were getting.

“It’s okay, nobody saw.” He reassured you in a gentle tone.

“I know, but they could have.” You reply, your voice low and shaky. You were mortified and you had noticed a pattern of that emotion reoccurring whenever Matt was around.

He watched as you powered off your laptop, shutting it closed and stuffing it into your bag along with your other textbooks and binders.

“You’re leaving?” He asked, his brows furrowing.

“Yes. I’m sorry.” You reply, quickly gathering everything as you avoided eye contact with him. But he never broke his stare, hoping that you would look him in the eyes but you never did. You were far too embarrassed.

And with that, he watched you scurry away from him for the second time today.

*ೃ༄

A rolled up black towel sat flushed against the threshold of Matt’s door as a cloud of smoke escaped past his lips. The moonlight shining through the cracks of the blinds as it floated up into his dorm.

His arm draped beside his bed, a thick, brown blunt resting in between his slender fingers before bringing it back up to his lips to take an another hit.

It was nearly midnight and he couldn’t sleep. Every time he closed his eyes he pictured you. That small little skirt, your thigh high socks, the way you’d get all worked up, your sweet voice when he pounded into you. Fuck, he missed it. He missed you.

Each attempt was a bust when he tried to talk to you. Surely you’d come around eventually, but how long was that going to take? His body was calling out to you and he knew that he wasn’t the only one feeling that way.

His dick pressed up against his flannel pants, his hips moving up on their own as if you were sitting on top of him.

“Fuck it.” He cursed under his breath, the bed creaking as he hopped out of it. He slipped on some slides and took one last hit of the blunt before throwing it out the window.

He had to go see you.

*ೃ༄

Perhaps he should’ve thought more with his head rather than his throbbing erection, considering the fact that he didn’t even know which dormitory you lived in. It felt like years had passed when he finally came across your living hall, nearly shouting in victory when he peered into your window seeing that you were sound asleep.

He lightly tapped the window, praying that it would be you to wake up and not your roommate.

A few of his attempts failed but eventually your eyes flutter open, groaning as you rise up out of bed. One of your hands rubbing your eyes as you peered over to the window, being met by a wave from Matt.

This could not be real, it had be some fucked up dream, right? You glance over at your roommate who thankfully was still asleep. You quietly hopped out of bed and tiptoed over to the window, looping your fingers under the bottom and pushing it up. The cool night air came rushing into your dorm as Matt wasted no time climbing through.

“What are you doing here?” You whisper, your brows knitting together as you took him in.

“I had to see you.” He whispered back, shutting the window closed before walking over towards you.

“Why?” You ask, glancing down at his tattoos before meeting his eyes, a mix of fatigue and lust taking over in them.

His face was dangerously close to yours. You could feel your heartbeat pumping through every part of your body as his chest was damn near on top of yours, the tip of his nose brushing against yours slightly. The scent of weed and his cologne mixed together heavenly as it filled the room.

“I missed you.” He spoke, his voice low and raspy as his fingers wrapped around your waist. He pulled you in, getting you impossibly closer than you already were.

Your eyes drop down to his lips, the color the most taunting, flushed pink. Oh, how much you missed them all over your body and kissing away at your own.

His head dropped down, peppering kisses into the nape of your neck and shoulder. Your hands wrapped around his arms, stumbling back towards your bed as he continued.

Butterflies filled your stomach as you tried your best to contain your voice, hoping that your roommate wouldn’t hear anything from you, but Matt made it terribly difficult.

“I need you so bad, baby. You have no idea.” He nearly whined, his grip around your waist growing tighter as he spoke.

Your hands meekly traveled up to cup his face, your thumbs caressing the stubble on his jaw.

“Show me.” You whispered, before pulling him into a kiss. It started off gentle and passionate, but quickly took a turn once he slipped his tongue past your lips.

You whimpered into his mouth, as you fell back into the bed. The bed frame creaked as the two of you shifted your weight, your chests flushed together as he positioned his hips in between your legs.

Matt swallowed each whine and whimper that fell past your lips as you felt his dick grind into you once again. The kiss was heated and sloppy, your heads tilted in opposite directions as it deepened.

You hands traveled down to the hem of his black tee, hinting for him to get rid of it. He smirked against you before pulling away and sitting up on his knees. Your chest heaved as you attempted to catch your breath, watching him in awe as he took off his shirt and tossed it onto the floor.

His wet lips glistened in the moonlight as his smirk never left his face. You whimpered, feeling his hands slide under your tank top, navigating their way up to your tits.

Your brows knitted together as you tugged your bottom lip past your teeth as he fondled your breasts through your shirt. Your shaky fingers looping around the hem of your top before tugging it up past your chest, exposing his perverted hands.

He pressed kisses from your chest down to your stomach as you pulled the fabric over your head and throwing it down to join his clothing on the floor. Your body arched up from the mattress as his kisses reached just above the waistband of your sweatpants, looking up at you in a taunting manner before licking a clear stripe from there up to your chest.

“Love your body so much, baby, so fucking perfect.” He whispered before pressing a kiss into your cheek in an almost loving manner. Your heart fluttered at the simple gesture, as you watched him rise back up.

His fingers looped around the bow you had tied around your sweatpants, grinning as he undid it. You lifted your hips up from the bed, making it easier for him to get them off, bringing your panties down with it.

“Gonna be the death of me, sweetheart.” He sighed, taking in your sweet figure, the dim light carving out your beautiful, angelic like features.

Your legs slowly began to close, feeling exposed from all his embarrassing praises and the fact that you were the only one completely nude.

“Don’t go shy on me now.” Matt whispered, pressing sloppy kisses into the back of your thighs before probing your legs back open with his strong hands. “Show me that pretty pussy, I know she missed me.”

“Shut the fuck up, please.” You groaned, throwing your head back into your pillow, covering your flustered expression with your hands.

Your legs slowly fell open, exposing yourself to him. Your slick arousal glistening in the dim lighting drove him damn near crazy. The things he wanted to do to you were very unlikely going to keep you quiet enough to not wake up your poor, unsuspecting roommate. He knew he’d have to tone down his actions, just a bit.

Your head dropped back down, your fingers balling up shyly into weak fists as you watched him kiss the inner part of your thighs, inching slowly towards the part that ached for him the most.

“Remember you can’t be too loud.” He sneered, nodding his head to the bed next to yours. “Don’t want her to wake up and have her see how good I make you feel, hm?”

You opened your mouth to speak but all the words had left your vocabulary. A sharp gasp falling from your lips as Matt pressed his tongue against your swollen clit. Praying that your little slip up wasn’t too loud, you quickly slapped your hand over your mouth, peering over to find her still fast asleep.

But he showed you no mercy, it wouldn’t be like Matt if he didn’t make it a challenge for you. That’s what made it all the more exciting, watching you struggle to keep quiet as he tongued you down. He could only imagine what the thrill would be like for him to do the same with his dick inside you.

“Matt!” You whisper-shouted, feeling him grab onto your hips, pulling you further into his mouth. Wasting no time slobbing all over your clit, his rough stubble brushing against your thighs, surely to leave them raw after.

“Fuck!” You cried, your fingers intertwining in his hair, attempting to push him off but he persevered. His mouth stayed latched on your pussy as if that was his life’s purpose.

Your noises and reactions were only fueling his motivation to keep going. He hummed against you with another conniving smirk as the tip of his nose grazed your skin.

His tongue swirled against your clit, occasionally bringing his tongue past your folds, licking a stripe from your entrance back up to that sweet bundle of nerves that made your back arch from the bed.

You legs quivered in his hands that forced them open, pressing them down into the mattress. Your heart pounded in your chest, losing yourself in all the pleasure. The sounds of his slurping rattled in your head, praying that you two weren’t being too loud, but a part of you didn’t care. You just wanted that same rush you had got the last time he made you cum.

Your juices trickled down past his chin as he continued devouring you. His mouth acting as a suction cup, like he was trying to suck your soul from your body.

“Shit, shit, shit.” You whimpered, throwing your head back. Your body squirmed in uncontrollable waves as you rode out your orgasm.

But that didn’t keep Matt from stopping. His tongue stayed glued to your clit as you reached your high. His strong grip loosened and you were finally able to move your legs again. They naturally close, leaving his face smushed between your thighs in the process.

He pressed a tender kiss against your clit, only to be met with a soft whimper from you and a shy hand pushing him away. You couldn’t handle anymore, at least not without a proper break first.

He finally did show you mercy, as he rose up. A grin plastered over his face as he looked down at you, admiring his work. You watched him with hooded eyes as he undressed, tossing his pajama pants and boxers down to the floor before shifting his weight in bed.

“Turn around, sweetheart.” He whispered, his hand wrapping around your waist as he gently guided your body to rest on your side.

You anxiously bit on your bottom lip as you felt the warmth of his breath on your neck. A chuckle slipping past his lips as you desperately rubbed your ass against him.

His fingers wrapped around the base of his cock, lining up the tip with your slick entrance. He teasingly ran it along your folds, occasionally brushing up against your sensitive clit before dragging it back down.

“Hurry, Matt.” You begged, whining into the pillow as your fingers entangled themselves into the sheets.

“Sorry.” He huffed, grabbing onto your hip to keep you in place with his free hand.

Another loud gasp accidentally slipped out from you as he gently pressed himself past your entrance, your spongy walls closing in on him as he stuffed you full of his cock. His hand clamped over your mouth, muffling out your broken moans.

“What did I say? You gotta be quiet.” He whispered, slowly rocking his hips back just to ram himself back into you— leaving you a crying, whimpering mess.

Your eyes screwed shut, feeling his fingers dig into the handle of your hip. His pelvis crashing into you at a relentless speed as your ass bounced with each thrust.

“Fucking love your pussy.” He slurred out with a smirk. “You think if I let go you can keep your voice down for me?”

You nod feverishly, slightly tilting your head back to meet his eyes with yours.

“Yeah?” He replies nearly out of breath himself, finally freeing your mouth from his hand. “Gonna be a good girl for me?”

“Yes.” You whined, feeling the tip of his dick kiss that sweet spot of yours each time he’d snap his hips into you.

“So sweet for me.” He replies. His hands traveling up past your ribcage and grabbing a handful of each of your tits. You suppressed a needy moan as he rolled your nipples in between his fingers.

His mouth glued to your skin once again as he peppered more kisses into your neck, leaving you shuddering in all his movements. It was all so much to take in; his sloppy kissing, his probing hands, the way his cock twitched against your walls. It was all becoming too much, your brain was completely fogged from any rational thinking.

All you could focus on was not being too loud and good he was making you feel. Your body felt like it had been set on fire the moment he stepped foot in your dorm, the only thing you wanted now was the second high you’d get after he filled you up with all his cum.

You had been thinking about it nonstop since last night, and you were over the moon to have it happen for the second time.

The erotic sound of your pussy’s sweet juices squelching with each thrust was music to his ears. A curious hand trickled down past your stomach to toy with your puffy clit that was still so sensitive from your previous orgasm.

“Matt!” You whisper-screamed, feelings the pads of his fingertips trace tight, quick circles into you, sending electric shocks all through your body.

Your thighs squeezed around his hand as he only continued, determined to get you over the edge once again. A spew of curses fell past your lips as your shaky hand fell on top of his.

“Gonna cum!” You cried as your body curled forward.

“Me too, baby.” He groaned, feeling your walls clench around him. “Gonna be a good girl and cum for me?”

“Fuck, yes!” You reply in nearly a scream as Matt continued fucking into you, leaving you unraveling all over his cock. The sheets were soaked in your juices, now there was physical evidence of how good Matt made you feel. There was simply no denying the fact.

His fingers finally left your clit alone for the first time tonight, wrapping them around the bottom of your ass as he picked up the speed of his thrusts. Your jaw slack, there were no more noises coming out, just soft cries as he continued ramming his dick inside you.

Your fingers dug into the sheets as he filled your head up with lewd praises just before spilling his thick load in your pussy. Your toes curled in and your head dropped down towards your chest as your felt him twitching inside you as his cum kept spurting out into you— coating your walls a beautiful white before finally dragging himself out.

You laid curled up in a ball, completely fucked out as you tried to catch your breath. The bed creaked as Matt sat at the edge of it, squinting his eyes as he scanned the dark bedroom.

“Where do you keep your rags?” He finally asks, peering over his shoulder.

“Over there.” Is all you could muster out, raising your hand up to point over at the miscellaneous pile of clothes that sat in the corner of your room.

You let out a sigh as you flipped over on your back, watching him with tired eyes as he walked back over to you on the bed with one of your pink rags in hand.

“Open.” He whispered, one of his hands wrapping around your thigh.

Your legs trembled as they slowly fell open to his command. Your eyes never left his face, quickly becoming flustered over the concentration in his expression as he cleaned up the mess he made.

“All good?” He asks after a few moments, confident that he got every drop.

“Yes.” You whispered timidly.

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