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taintedcigs · 9 months

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even if it’s a false god — e.m.

part two; we'd still worship this love

pairing: modern!college!fboy eddie x fem!reader

warnings: smut!!!!!!, 18+, MINORS DNI or ill bite u. p in v, cr*ampie, kinda br*eding kink, unprotected s*x (wrap it up irl angels, this is fiction.), angst angst angst, ASSHOLE FBOY EDDIE!!!, drinking, degrading, swearing, praises, nicknames, vv slight ch*king kink if u squint, some rough stuff.

summary: in which you are friends with benefits with modern!fuckboy!eddie (wc:4.1k)

a/n: i was def thinking of a pt.2 for this while writing it tbh. mr asshole munson needs to repair some hearts!!! also i made the pic in the middle bc i couldn't find a fitting picture w this lyric lmaooo!! did not proof-read!! ignore any mistakes AND PLSS send me ur thoughts ily xo, em

“It was fun babysitting you, sweetheart, but I have to dip,” Steve whispered in your ear with a sympathetic smile, his hand pointing toward the blonde who was impatiently waiting for him.

“What?” You asked, baffled. “Steve, you fucking promised!” You groaned.

“Jesus Christ, do you not have any ounce of self-control?” He asked, and you gave him an intense look.

“Obviously not!” You huffed, arms crossing against your chest, causing Steve to chuckle.

“Robin will come back eventually! And in the mean time, just stay the fuck away from him,” He warned.

“Now, I gotta get laid.” He winked. You tried to open your mouth, but he interrupted. “I swear to god, Y/N, I don’t wanna hear another word from you, you’ve cockblocked me enough this week.” He said, annoyed.

You rolled your eyes, huffing as you stood straight, “Fine! Have fun.” You exclaimed, and Steve grinned, “I will, sweetheart. And you, just... hide from him or something.” He shrugged as he guided the blonde girl out of the door.

Jesus fucking Christ.

You were pathetic, asking for Steve and Robin to babysit you, so that you wouldn’t end up under Eddie again, so that you could at least save some of the self-respect that you were sure probably didn’t exist at this point.

They knew each time you said you were done with him, it was a lie. They knew you’d go back for more, but now it had been two weeks—two whole weeks—where you managed to stay away from him, blocking him for good.

And you could feel yourself cracking; you wanted—needed—him with every fiber of your being, and it was driving you crazy.

He drew you in with whatever he did, like a magnet always pulling you toward him, making you need to be around him, at all times.

You missed the way his hands grazed your thighs, the way he fucked you so rough and senselessly, but also so gently. The way his pretty mouth framed compliments so fucking sweetly, but turned dirty the moment he was pounding into you, praising you but degrading you at the same time.

He was so good at fucking, but was shit at everything else.

Just like you.

So the idea of being friends with benefits sounded like heaven when you first suggested it. No feelings attached, no exclusivity, just fucking each other's brains out while also having someone to chat with afterward.

It was supposed to be simple—so fucking simple.

But the moment feelings got involved, it turned out for the worst. Jealousy was a bitter monster that gnawed at the insides of the two of you, and it had turned into something so incredibly toxic that you knew you had to end it. Your friendship was long gone now, turning into a bitter competition where you either fucked or argued.

Exclusivity was not something the two of you ever discussed, you knew you were bad at relationships, and Eddie knew he wasn’t good at feelings, so it was a topic you always danced around. Arguments ensued the moment one of you fucked someone else, and bitterness was present in your veins like it had always been there.

When Eddie decided to fuck another girl two weeks ago, you decided you were done. This wasn’t good for the both of you, and you needed to stop it as fast as you could.

You knew the emptiness you felt right after you fucked was not worth it, no matter how good Eddie was.

You were tired of sobbing into Steve’s chest drunkenly, confused about what you even felt for Eddie when he was out there fucking another girl.

It was starting to leave a bad taste in your mouth, and you didn’t want to hate Eddie—not more than you already did at the moment.

But there stood Eddie, curly hair laid messily on his forehead as a guitar pick adorned his neck, his infamous leather jacket paired with those black pants were your nightmare—dream—combo, he was sprawled on the couch, thick thighs spread apart, you wished you could part them further with your hands, rub him through his pants as you got down on your knees for him, giving his delicious pink-tip kitten licks as you tasted his salty pre-cum—

What the fuck was wrong with you? You shook your head as you turned around immediately, gazing into your empty cup as you hurried off to the kitchen.

Your cheeks grew hot from embarrassment, you seriously had no fucking self-control or respect.

“You need any help?” Eddie’s voice rang in your ear.

“‘M fine,” You muttered, voice barely audible.

“You know I’ve been lookin’ for you.”

“Why? Did you finally run out of girls to fuck on campus?” You said snarkily, a smirk tugging on your lips.

“Don’t act so fuckin’ innocent now, sweetheart.” He tssked, causing you to throw him a quizzed look.

“Didn’t you go home with Mr. Jock last week?” He was being possessive again, and you hated how it picked up your heart rate, you were stupid.

“So?” You quirked a brow, teasing him, and he gave you a slight chuckle.

That smug asshole, why did he have to always look so good?

“So…how was it?” He asked, and you could feel his jaw tensing as he took a step closer to you, trapping you between the drink stand and his body.

“You’re disgusting.” You groaned as you pushed him away from your face. You were not going to give in.

“That bad, huh?” He mocked, scrunching his nose.

You rolled your eyes. “No.” You lied.

It was bad, really fucking bad; the guy lasted 30 seconds and left you with nothing. That greedy bastard.

But you weren’t going to let Eddie know that.

“He was really good, actually.” You were lying through your teeth, and thankfully, Eddie didn’t seem to notice. An intense rage flashed through his eyes.

“You sayin’ that punk is better than me?” He slurred into your ear, his breath ragged and hot as it fanned against your neck. He smelled so fucking addicting—a mix of sandalwood and nicotine, earthy and making you crave him at the same time.

You don’t even know how he even came to that conclusion, but it was funny, seeing him like this, nostrils flaring as rage filled his veins, like he was in torture hearing about the guys you fucked, he deserved that.

But your silence at his question meant everything to him; he didn’t need an answer. You knew he was better, and he knew that you were crawling closer to his palm now.

He grew more confident because of the way you stuck to him. “I've seen him in the locker room, sweetheart. He’s not that fuckin’ impressive.” You didn’t mean to gasp, but it slipped past your lips quickly.

“Munson!” You warned, a smile tugged on your lips, and you realized how pathetic you were being again, but it was too late now.

“Don’t think he can make you smile like I do, either.” He grinned smugly, his calloused hands quick to pull the strand of hair on your face, to see the way your eyes crinkled when you smiled, so fucking promising.

“You're a jerk,” You spat, groaning as you turned around, trying to avoid him, but it was no use; the damage was done, and you were putty in his hands again.

He had a tight hold on your arm, possessive again, and you were sick for enjoying his rough side. He spun you around to meet him, eyes dark, before he held you in place. “A jerk who makes you feel good,” Eddie purred in your ear, fingers tracing toward your exposed skin, one touch from him, and you whimpered, all that anger fading away so quickly.

He chuckled darkly. “Missed those sweet lil’ whimpers,” He whispered in your ear again, fingers quick to find their way toward your panties.

He drew slow circles with his thumb while you tried to remain tight-lipped, but it was impossible.

“Jesus—fuck, Eddie som—someone could see...” You didn’t mean to throw your head back against the wall. Your eyes fluttered shut, and Eddie shrugged.

“Don’t care, sweetheart.”

“Well, I do.” You didn’t; Eddie could fuck you right here, right now, and you’d be fine with it, but you weren’t ready to admit this to yourself, and you didn’t want to take the chance of Robin seeing you like this.

He groaned as he dragged you into the nearest room. You would’ve cried at the loss of contact if he didn’t have a tight hold on your body, calloused hands gripping at your curves, and your thighs rubbed together at his touch.

Eddie was quick to pin you against the door, his hand curling around the back of your neck. He smashed his lips against yours without hesitating, kissing you the same way he made you feel; explosive, hard, and dizzying.

He pulled back to look at you.

Sweet Jesus.

His gaze was intense, and it made you feel so fucking exposed that it startled a gasp out of your lips.

You fisted his shirt when you had enough, yanking him closer to you so that you could feel his body pressed into yours. Everything you felt was pure hunger, craving him deeply.

Your heart was pounding in your chest when you felt his rock hard bulge grinding against you, calloused hands gripped your ass as you whimpered; you were at his mercy now.

“What were you sayin’ last time? That this would never happen again?” He mocked, whispering against your face, his gaze never leaving you.

Your eyes narrowed, but it was impossible to keep up your act when his fingers started ghosting over your thighs again. “Fuck. You.” You spat.

“You don’t have to ask me twice, baby.” He grinned, chuckling when you whimpered under his touch.

“God, I love those sweet noises you make for me…” He murmured, you rubbed your thighs again at his words. “I bet if I flipped that little skirt of yours… I’d find you gushing for me.” He groaned.

And you remained tight-lipped. God, you didn’t want to feed into his huge fucking ego, and you wanted to wipe that smug smirk off his face.

But he was so right. Your thighs were dampened by how aroused you were.

He was quick to slip his fingers past your panties, a grunt escaping his lips once he pushed past your folds, your slick covering his fingers. He chuckled darkly. “You’re soaking my fingers, honey.”

“I—Fuck—I hate you.” You squeezed your eyes shut, and Eddie reveled in it, his fingers pushing inside of you while his thumb stayed on your clit.

“Always sayin’ shit you don’t mean, baby.” He mocked. “Gonna make you beg for my cock, if you keep’ talkin like that.”

You were panting and head dizzy as he pushed his fingers in and out of you. You were going to lose it, and he had barely started.

When he finally undressed both of you, you were out of it, while his hands were still on your clit as he groaned at the sight in front of him.

You were perfect.

His breath was ragged when he traced your chest, eyes bulging when he realized you had no bra on, pleasure ignited in you more and more when he cupped your breasts, teeth tugging your nipple as his fingers still toyed with your clit.

“Perfect tits, just made for me, huh?” He growled, making you mewl; you were putty in his hands, and with each movement, you were getting closer and closer to beg him for more.

The more you whimpered, the rougher he got with you, curling his finger inside your cunt as he hit that one spot, eliciting a moan from you as you threw your head back.

“P—please.” You whimpered, and Eddie tutted.

“I’ve seen you do much better than that.” He hummed. This arrogant asshole was going to be the death of you.

“P—please, Eds, please.” You begged, and your moans died down your throat, before he slowly dragged his fingers out and shoved them back in.

Your head cocked to the side in pleasure, and he was quick to take advantage of it, licking a path from your neck to your ear, grinning.

“Mhmm… not good enough, baby.” He purred in your ear as you whined, “Jesus fucking Christ—” Your cursing was interrupted when he yanked his hands away.

No. No. No. No!

“Shitshitshit—Please, Fuck, Eds...” You murmured, eyes shooting wide open, “Need your cock inside’a me.” You mewled again.

His dark chuckle reverberated through you, “See, that wasn’t that hard, was it?” He mocked, causing your eyes to narrow.

“You assho—” He didn’t let you finish as he wrapped his hands around your throat, just enough to punish you but just enough for pleasure to course through your veins. And it felt so fucking good.

You shut your mouth quickly, “What were you saying, baby?” He purred.

God, that egotistic prick was pushing you to your last fucking limit; you could do it, you could hold it off. But on the other hand, you could feel yourself pulsing with need; if he didn’t pound into you soon, you knew you would’ve been a pathetic blabbering mess.

“Please, please, Fuck me,” You grunted. “I need you, Eddie.” He didn’t respond as he tapped your thighs, signaling for you to wrap your legs around his chest, and you were quick to oblige.

Mind spinning before you got a chance to process what happened, he slammed into you with a vicious thrust, he was so fucking thick that it made you let out a guttural scream, tears welled at your eyes as you tried to adjust to his size.

It wasn’t long before your loud noises turned into incoherent babbles and squeals as he kept his pace.

“Holy shit, baby,” He groaned, watching his cock sliding into you, “Such a warm fuckin’ pussy, and so fucking tight… Jesus…”

You trembled beneath him, tits bouncing up and down as your mouth hung open each time he slid further into your cunt, and Eddie wanted that image etched into his brain forever.

He tilted you upward, hitting spots you weren’t even aware of. You were quick to wrap your hands around his frame, your nails digging into his back, roughly.

He was the only one who knew you like that; both emotionally and physically, and the same went for you, that’s why the two of you never could truly let each go, clinging to each other like a child did to their favorite toy.

You know no one else could fuck you like he did, and that smug bastard knew it, too.

The way he was pounding into you while uttering curses at your ear, furiously slapping into your body as if you were nothing but his personal fucktoy, truly his.

And you realized how sick you were for liking it, truly enjoying being this way with him.

“You look so fuckin’ pretty when you take my cock, such a tight fuckin’ pussy and all mine, yea?” He panted causing you to nod, you were barely able hold his gaze, and he groaned before his hands roughly grabbed your cheeks, forcing your head in his direction.

“Look at me baby…” He purred, “Look, how well your cunt is squeezin’ me. You feel that, peach?” He sheathed himself further into you, and you could feel your walls clench around him, a contented groan leaving both of your lips.

It was fucking perfect. Everything was rough and messy, there was nothing emotional about the way you fucked. You were both using each other to cum as much as you wanted to, not stopping until you were both sweaty bodies.

He could make you come apart in seconds if he wanted to, knowing your body better than anyone else. And you could make the scary freak Eddie putty in your hands if you wanted to; it was a fucked up game of control that had the two of you going at it for hours.

Was it fucked up? Yes.

Did it feel good? Absolutely.

“Would that asshole be able to make you come apart like this?” He asked, fingers digging into your hips, sure to leave a bruise.

This wasn’t the first time Eddie had been possessive; it was a sick, twisted game that you also participated in, almost as if both of you knew that you could never be with anyone else.

You nodded mindlessly, you weren’t going to give into him that easily, again, he grunted at your lack of reaction.

“Tell me, baby.” He growled, his pounding slowing down to make sure your orgasm was out of reach for you, torturing you until he had you begging under him.

You weren’t sure if you wanted to give up this fast. “Beg me, honey.” His movements picked up, and his hands were quick to toy with your clit, a sharp burst of euphoria rang through your body, leaving you speechless.

You clenched around him—a big fucking mistake—and he grinned smuggly again. “I know, baby, I know you’re close.” He panted. “I can make you cum, angel.” He promised, “Just say the word.”

“Asshole,” You groaned between his forceful thrusts, and he chuckled darkly. You rolled your hips against his when his movements faltered, seeking the warmth and the friction when he thrusted into you fully, filling you to the brim.

And that prick was thoroughly enjoying your torture. “Tell me it’s all mine, that you’re all mine.” He purred against your ear.

You couldn’t. You shouldn’t.

But the way his thumb circled around your clit, so agonizingly slow, and the way his cock was prodding into you so slowly was torture. God, if he just picked up his pace.

Don’t.

You try to convince yourself, but it's to no avail, you are clenching down on nothing, and it hurts. Your hole is pulsing now, and you need him more than ever.

“P—please,” You mewled, causing Eddie to give you a slight smirk. “Please what, baby? Use your words.”

“I’m all yours,” You murmured, “He could never fuck me like you could.” You added, humming contently, when Eddie started to pound into you relentlessly again.

“Please—I need to—Jesus, Eds.” Your words slurred into a moan as he increased his speed, his finger circling your clit roughly.

“Oh fuck, fuck, baby. Feels so good.” He panted. “Please—please make me cum, sir.” You sobbed, unable to hold it back anymore.

And that was all Eddie needed to hear. “Cum for me, honey.” He pleaded, and you gave him low whimpers as he started fucking you faster again, watching the way his cock disappeared into your gushing cunt.

“Wanna feel you cum on my cock, baby.” He breathed.

“Shit, feels so good, Eds.”

“Jesus—Please… I’m going to—” You bit down on your lower lip, unable to stifle the moans leaving your lips as his assault on your clit was enough to bring you over the edge,

“I’m gonna—I’m…Holy shit, oh god!” You sobbed, whole body convulsing in pleasure as you came around his cock, your vision blurred and mind foggy as you didn’t realize how your orgasm was triggering his.

Eddie was whimpering for you now, “So fucking good, holy shit.” He panted, movements getting sloppier.

“I’m gonna cum, fuck, baby. My perfect fucking girl, yea?” He heaved a breath.

“I’m gonna fuck this—Gonna fuck my load into you, peach.”

“Gonna fill you with my cum—Fuuuck.” He growled, animalistic noises escaping him as he exploded inside of you, thick ropes of his warm cum painting your walls.

He groaned when he slipped out, mouth-watering as he enjoyed the sight of you fucked out of your mind, and his load dripping down your thighs.

The relief you had was short-lived as that sinking feeling came to you again, the emptiness, the loneliness.

Was all of it worth it?

The two of you dressed in silence; the weight of what you did was hitting you all at once. You did it again. You had sex with him again. You let him use you again—it didn’t matter if you used him too, it meant something different for you than it did for him.

All those thoughts you had about feeling good faded out quicker than you thought they would.

You were so fucking pathetic.

Jesus Christ.

You felt sick, what the fuck did you just do?

As soon as Eddie got dressed, he gave your cheek a sloppy kiss. He was going to leave you all alone again.

You should be fine with this, this is what always happens.

Don’t—don’t say anything, just take your last bit of self-respect that is possibly non-existent and leave without another word—

“You’re…leaving?” You exhale, your mind racing with ideas.

Shit. Just shut the fuck up.

“Don’t act so coy now, sweetheart.” He gave you a slight smile, but all you wanted to do was slap it out of him.

“We both know what this was.” He muttered, that conceited dickhead still had that smile on his face.

“And what exactly was ‘this’?” You pointed to the space between the two of you.

“Fucking, no strings attached?” He added, shrugging. The fact that he had no clue about anything was pissing you off.

“Unbelievable.” You gave him a dry chuckle.

“What?” He asked, baffled.

“Is that all I am to you, just a warm body?” You said, face crinkling with disgust.

“I’m confused.” Eddie said. “You—you were the one who fucking suggested this.” He breathed.

“Well, I’m un-suggesting it!” You exclaimed angrily.

“You—you are so fucking confusing!” He spat. “I told you—I told you we could be more... told you we could try... us.” He stuttered. “You were the one who refused!”

“You were drunk! You can barely fucking say it now!” You spat back.

“What... what do you even want, Y/N?” He asked, holding his gaze.

“Do you want a relationship? Do you want something meaningful?” He pondered, a sarcastic chuckle escaping his lips.

“Is it so wrong for me to want that? To want something real?” Your voice carried so much emotion, and that’s what killed him.

He couldn’t have a relationship with you even if he wanted to; he recognized his own turmoil, and he feared he would drag you right down with him. No matter how similar you seemed to be, he was sure he’d ruin you, completely and utterly. And not in a good way.

He swallowed physically; the lump in his throat wasn’t going to go away.

He couldn’t let you have hope; he couldn’t let you down again—he had done that enough.

''A relationship with you is the last thing I see myself doing.'' He almost whispered, but you heard it loud and clear.

Your brows were quick to furrow, and your jaw was was set in a tense manner. The lust in your gaze was long gone by now, containing only rage while you glared at the source of your pain.

“Fuck. You.” You spat, tears threatening to spill but you didn’t want to give him that satisfaction

“You are a sadistic fucking asshole, Munson.”

“Jesus… I think we should stop—whatever the hell, this is.” He exclaimed.

“Fine by me!” You exclaimed back cheeks heating up from anger.

“I really am done with you, this time.” Despite the intensity of your gaze, he could sense the subtle vulnerability in your eyes. The subtle pain that was fueling your anger

“Oh, I’m sure you are.” He chuckled smugly. This was something you two had joked about before, but it wasn’t funny now.

He saw you in the palm of his hand because you always came back to him, he was right… until now.

The fact that he laughed in your face at the thought of being in a relationship with you was too much, even for your low self-esteem.

“I don’t care what you think.” You didn’t even hold the rage you held before; only disgust was visible in your tone.

“You’re dead to me.” You replied curtly, your voice distant and chilling.

And Eddie knew how much he fucked up, truly.

There was nothing he could do now.

“I didn’t mean it like—” He regretted what he said immediately, but you dismissed his protests, gathering your jacket in your hand as you slammed the door behind you.

Tears blurred your vision as soon as you left, the lively sound of the party clouded your mind as you silently sobbed, trying to find Robin.

You knew how unattainable he was, and how much he truly hurt you, and as fucked up as it was, that's exactly why you loved him; led by blind faith that it would be different.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fic #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #fuckboy!eddie munson #modern!eddie munson x reader #fuckboy!eddie munson x reader #eddie munson angst #stranger things imagine #eddie munson

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scuderiahoney · 4 months

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Sweet Like Grenadine

Daniel Ricciardo x Reader

Masterlist

Summary: You love weddings. However, you don’t love being stuck by yourself at a wedding, a plus one to a boyfriend who’s too busy for you. Enter Daniel Ricciardo, your knight in shining armor.

Word Count: 5.6k

a/n: thought of this concept and couldn’t get Danny out of my head. He’s soooo guy you flirt with at a wedding and will probably never see again coded

Warnings: alcohol/intoxication, mild sexual content (heavy makeout? idrk how to tag this stuff), one (1) shitty boyfriend

The table in front of you is draped with a heavy white tablecloth. At the center is a large bouquet of flowers, the number 19 stuck haphazardly in the middle of it. Not last, but certainly low on the list. You can’t blame them- you barely know the bride and groom.

You’re only here because your boyfriend is a groomsman. A plus one. You love weddings, so of course you’d agreed, but you hadn’t really considered how lonely an event like this could be. The only person you really know has been busy all day. You can’t complain, won’t complain, you know that’s why he’s here, but…

You’re sitting at a table full of strangers. It’s not exactly fun. There’s still hours left of this. Dinner hasn’t even been served, there’s still speeches and cake and dancing and honestly, you’re already exhausted. You need a drink, but the bar isn’t open yet. You need to take off your heels, but you’re pretty sure that would be frowned upon. You need to talk to your boyfriend.

He’s busy, though. He told you as much when you found him between the ceremony and the reception. There’s a pang in your chest still at the way he brushed you off, the way he told you he didn’t have time to chat. You get it, you really do. You’re not going to get upset about it.

The seat to your left has been empty since you sat down, but someone collapses into it, letting out a heavy sigh. You turn to look, hoping for some sort of familiar face or at least a friendly one, and you’re met with-

“Hi. ‘M Daniel,” he says, sticking his hand out to shake yours.

The thing is, Daniel is a familiar face, but not for any of the reasons you’d hoped for. You know Daniel because your boyfriend is obsessed with Formula 1. You try to keep up so you can take part in his conversations, but it’s never really been your thing. But you know enough to know Daniel Ricciardo.

“Yeah, I… I know,” you say, before you slap your hand over your mouth. “Shit! I’m sorry. That’s weird. S’just- my boyfriend’s a huge fan-“

You swear his face drops slightly, but he plasters that grin right back on before he says, “and you’re not a fan?”

“I’m not not a fan,” you say. “He’s just the bigger fan. Of the two of us.”

Daniel nods. You finally shake his hand. He never stops looking at you, never stops smiling. You tell him your name, and he repeats it back to you, his accented version making you smile.

“Well, is he here? I’d love to meet the bigger of the two fans,” he says. “We talking, like, box fan, industrial blower, air boat fan? How big?”

You laugh, his hand squeezing yours as you lean over the table. He’s laughing, too, then, before he lets go of your hand. You want to crawl out of your skin, want to run and hide in the bathroom, because you’re definitely making a fool of yourself, but-

“Oh, he’s busy,” you say, waving your hand in the air dismissively. “He’s one of the groomsmen, got a lot on his plate. I don’t wanna bug him. He’s the one with the sunglasses on,” you say, pointing at him at the head table.

Daniel looks where you point and quirks his brow. “Guy like that has a girl like you and you’re the one worried about bugging him?”

You stare at him with wide eyes. He collapses into a fit of laughter again, and you follow suit. You don’t know what else to do. Then he nudges your knee with his, under the table, and juts his chin towards the bar.

“D’you want a drink?” He asks.

“The bar isn’t open yet,” you say.

“So?”

“So, how are you going to get a drink?”

He shakes his head and purses his lips. “Oh, sweetheart, you just watch and learn. What’re you having?”

You shrug. “A soda, I guess. I’m the designated driver for at least three of the groomsmen.”

Daniel sighs heavily. “You poor thing. You keep making me feel worse and worse for you. Alright, I’ll get you something.”

He strides his way up to the bar, which has a very obvious “Closed” sign on the countertop. There’s a single bartender behind it, and he’s cleaning glasses. You watch with entertainment as Daniel leans on the counter, exuding confidence and charm. The bartender shakes his head. Daniel counters. The man behind the bar shrugs and nods. Then he steps through a door for just a moment. When he returns, he has two drinks in his hands- one that’s obviously a beer, and one that’s bright pink. Daniel smiles, thanks the man, and walks the cups back to you.

He sets it down in front of you with a flourish before he takes a seat.

“I told you, I’m DD,” you remind him.

He nods, taking a sip of his beer before he says, “Shirley Temple.”

“Oh my god,” you say, a grin washing over your face. You pick up the cup and take a sip, sighing at the sweet taste of ginger ale and grenadine. “How did you know?”

“Everyone loves a good Shirley,” he says, elbowing you lightly. “And you can’t drink just plain soda at a wedding.”

They announce dinner shortly after that, and the waiters start bringing plates out. You’re starving, having been up early to help with last minute wedding things at your boyfriend’s request. You hadn’t had time to eat lunch. You chat with Daniel through the meal. The two of you talk about the food, about the wedding, about the decor. There are other people at the table, but they’re all incredibly boring in comparison. Daniel, on the other hand, could hold your attention forever, probably.

You sneak glances at your boyfriend, surrounded by his friends at the head table. He’d promised to sneak away as soon as he got a chance. He hasn’t even looked your way. You're trying to ignore the hurt deep in your chest. Daniel is sneaking glances at you sneaking glances at the bridal party. You’re trying to ignore that, too.

“How long have you two been dating?” Daniel asks.

“About 6 months,” you say with a smile.

It feels forced. Frankly, the last thing you want to talk about right now is your boyfriend. They’re clearing the last plates. He’s at his table, three beers in by your count, not a care in the world. He promised. Daniel opens his mouth, likely to ask another question about your boyfriend, but you speak first.

“So wait, are you here for the bride or the groom?” You ask.

“The bride,” Daniel says , a soft smile on his face. “An old family friend. I’m representing the Ricciardos.”

You smile. “That’s sweet.”

Before he can say anything in response, someone is tapping on a microphone. It’s time for the speeches. You know your boyfriend isn’t making one, which is good. He’s not exactly the best public speaker, especially when he’s been drinking. You and Daniel settle in to listen.

He sneaks away between the maid of honor and the best man, patting the back of your hand and whispering about being right back. He returns a few moments later, another beer and a Shirley Temple in his hands. You smile gratefully at him, and he waves you off. Then the next speech is starting, and you’re rolling your eyes at the way the best man talks about marriage like it’s some awful idea.

“He knows this is a wedding, yeah?” Daniel asks out of the side of his mouth, leaning towards you.

You shrug. “That one started drinking at 9am. I’m not sure he even knows what year it is right now.”

Daniel starts laughing, then. Luckily, the rest of the crowd does too- apparently, the best man has just made an extremely funny joke. Daniel is only looking at you, though, and you can’t help but laugh just because of the look on his face.

When the first dances are over and the music starts, you sink low into your seat. Your boyfriend has still not made an appearance. He definitely knows where you’re sitting, he had told you so earlier. You’re sure he’s busy, but you’d looked away for too long, talking to Daniel, and now he’s disappeared from the head table. You scan the crowd, hoping to see his face. All the while, you can feel Daniel watching you.

“We could go dance,” he suggests.

You sink lower in your seat. “I don’t really like dancing.”

That’s a lie. You love dancing, especially at weddings. You love the cheesy songs they always play, you love the atmosphere, you love watching the bride and groom have fun and getting to be a part of it. But you know how it would look if you went out on the dance floor with Daniel, and your boyfriend definitely won’t be joining you. As frustrated as you may be with your him, you don’t want to cause drama at someone else’s best day of their lives.

“I think I might try and find him,” you say, picking up your drink.

Daniel nods. “Want me to come with you?”

You look around at the rest of the table and find it empty. You shake your head and lean towards him, close enough that you almost knock your foreheads. Nobody’s watching the two of you or trying to listen anyways, but it’s more fun this way.

“He promised he’d find me before dinner,” you whisper conspiratorially. “That obviously didn’t happen. So I’m not bringing you to him as a reward for bad behavior.”

Daniel sits back in his chair and smiles at you, one brow raised. “Atta girl!”

You stand up from your chair and hope he can’t tell that your face has grown hot from that comment alone.

Even if you can’t find your boyfriend, it’s probably best that you get some space from Daniel. Through the last hour or so of your conversation, you’ve been catching yourself leaning towards him and then reminding yourself that you have a boyfriend. It’s just that he’s being so nice, and that you’re feeling so down about the whole thing. He’s comforting, which is fine. But it can’t be more than that.

You find your boyfriend at one of the bars, leaning on the counter and talking loudly with one of the other groomsmen. He’s drunk already- he should really slow down if he wants to last the night. You walk over to him, forcing a soft smile onto your face. You can’t confront him now, not in front of his friend and all the people waiting for drinks.

“Hey, babe,” you say, tapping his shoulder lightly as you walk up.

He turns. You wait for him to smile at you, but it never comes. Your stomach sinks.

“Hey,” he says, nonchalantly. “D’you need something?”

Your palms feel clammy. “Oh, no, I’m good! Just… wanted to say hi. S’been a bit.”

He nods. “Yeah. I told you I’d be busy tonight.”

His friend just stands there and listens. Your skin feels hot, and your eyes begin to sting.

“I know,” you say. “I’m not trying to bug you, I just- I was just walking by. Just. Yeah. That’s all. I’ll leave you to it.”

“I’ll come find you in a bit, baby,” he promises.

You don’t bother believing him this time.

Daniel doesn’t comment on your red eyes or the tear tracks on your cheeks when you return to the table. He just squeezes your arm and disappears for a moment, then comes back with yet another Shirley Temple. You don’t know whether to laugh or to cry, so you just take a sip of the drink instead.

“You don’t have to sit here with me,” you say to Daniel. “I’m definitely pulling down the mood.”

“Are you joking?” He says. “You’re the best thing at this party.”

You laugh, then, because the statement is so ridiculous that you can’t help it. He sounds so serious, and when you turn to look at him there’s no hint of teasing on his face. He just elbows your arm lightly again.

“Come on, we don’t have to dance but we’re not sitting here all night,” he says. “Let’s go wander.”

He stands from the table and tugs at your chair. You give in and stand up too, taking your drink from the table. You follow him as he weaves through the throngs of people. You like wandering. Wandering is a perfectly sensible thing to do with the guy you just met. At the wedding your boyfriend is a groomsman at. What else are you supposed to do, anyways?

He leads you past the dance floor, which you try not to look at forlornly. There are large glass doors at the back of the hall. He swings one open, holding it for you, waving you through with a flourish of his hand. Outside, it’s lit up with string lights. There’s a wide rolling lawn of grass, with fire pits and chairs spread out everywhere. There are lawn games, too- beanbags and horseshoes and a giant version of Jenga.

You can burn a lot of time out here. You barely even notice when Daniel slips his hand around your wrist to gently pull you with him. You should feel guilty about it. Your boyfriend is somewhere inside. But that same boyfriend has also been ignoring you all night. Daniel is just being friendly. You follow him to one of the fire pits with a smile on your face.

You and Daniel are nearly two hours into wandering when someone calls your name. You look up from where you’ve been staring at the beanbag board, trying to line up your throw just right. You’d been on the verge of winning for the first time. For an Australian, Daniel is surprisingly good at American lawn games. Frustratingly good, even.

It’s your boyfriend, calling you from the doorway of the reception hall. You sigh and drop the beanbag onto the ground near your feet. Two of the other groomsmen are hanging off of him, looking worse for the wear. One of them has something down the front of his shirt- you pray it’s not vomit.

“I think that’s my cue,” you say, nodding towards the building.

“You could always put them in a cab and hope they figure it out on their own.” Daniel says. You give him a skeptical look. “Kidding, kidding.”

“It’s tempting,” you admit.

Daniel bends over and picks up your heels from where they lay in the grass. You’d kicked them off as soon as you stepped into the soft grass outside. You slip the shoes back on and wince. Then you stick your hand out to him, palm open.

“Well, it was lovely to meet you,” you say, as he shakes your hand once more. “Thanks for not leaving me all alone.”

Daniel laughs. “I will be your ‘I-know-nobody-at-this-event-‘ partner anytime you want, sweetheart. Just give me a call. I’ll be there.”

You know what he’s trying to do. The opportunity is right there in front of you. He’s telling you to give him a call- this is where you ask for his number. But you have a boyfriend. You can justify hanging out with him, especially considering you had nothing else to do, but asking for his number feels a step too far.

You smile softly and drop his hand. “Goodnight, Daniel.”

You turn and make your way towards your boyfriend. He’s already complaining before you’re even within ten feet of him, about how he’s tired and he looked everywhere for you and how could you disappear like that? You apologize, just to quiet him down. You usher the three men inside before you turn to look at Daniel one more time.

He’s standing there, watching you, a sad smile on his face.

“Who was that guy?” Your boyfriend asks later, from the passenger seat of the car.

You look at him, at his eyes. The light is gone- he’s blacked out, there’s no way he’ll remember this tomorrow.

“Daniel Ricciardo,” you say.

It’s a testament to how drunk he is that he doesn’t even react.

You get all three guys into bed, including your boyfriend. You lay down next to him, as much as you don’t want to. There’s not really anywhere else to sleep in the little hotel room, and you’re not sleeping on the floor. When you close your eyes, you can’t fall asleep, plagued by thoughts of if you’d made the right choice, unable to erase Daniel’s sad smile from your memory.

…..

You love weddings. You remind yourself of that over and over again as you pin a dress in place for the hundredth time that day. Your best friend Natalie is a bridesmaid, it’s her sister who’s getting married, and you’re here to help in any way you can. So far, that’s included safety pinning, making a run for alcohol, checking on the floral delivery, checking to make sure the groomsmen are where they’re supposed to be, and comforting a bridesmaid who was crying in the bathroom. Her boyfriend had broken up with her the night before.

“Men are shit,” you’d told her in commiseration.

By the time the ceremony rolls around, you’re relieved to have a chance to sit down. You check on the bridesmaids one last time and head into the church. The pews are packed with people, so you find a spot near the back and sit down. You sigh in relief.

The music starts playing, and you finally take a chance to look around. The pews are decorated with flowers, there’s bright light streaming through the large windows. The groom waits up front, eyes already watering. You love weddings. You say it like a mantra in your head.

As the procession starts, you scan the crowd. You know more people at this wedding, having been friends with the family for a while. You’ll at least have some company at your table. You spot a couple friends from high school, a cousin you’ve met a few times, some mutual friends who you’ll definitely have to catch up with later. And then, in the third row on the groom’s side, you see dark curly hair that looks terrifyingly familiar.

It can’t be him. That would be absolutely insane. There’s absolutely no way Daniel Ricciardo is attending a second wedding in the US, for a couple who are no more famous than the previous wedding you’d seen him at. It would make absolutely no sense. And yet, you can’t stop staring at the back of this man’s head, the slope of his shoulders beneath his dark suit. You remember that wedding, months ago, resting your hand on his shoulder for balance as you took off your heels. He’d joked about having to cut you off, holding your Shirley Temple in his hand.

When the bridal procession begins playing, everyone stands. You keep your eyes on him. He turns, and your heart skips a beat in your chest. It’s Daniel. It’s impossible, it’s irrational, but it is him. You’d recognize him anywhere.

You force yourself to look away, to turn towards the bride. She looks beautiful, perfect, the picture of elegance. The flowers in her hands, the ones you’d checked on that morning, are perfect too. You breathe a sigh of relief. She really should’ve hired a wedding coordinator. Maybe you should be a wedding coordinator.

When you go to sit back down, you sneak a glance at Daniel. He’s looking over his shoulder at you, eyes wide. You meet his gaze and your cheeks feel hot. That wide, bright grin breaks out across his face. You grin right back.

When the ceremony is over, and they’re officially Mr and Mrs, the whole wedding disperses out onto the lawn of the church. There are shuttles to take you to the reception, but everyone seems content to mingle outside in the fresh air. You’re one of the first ones out, but you’re quickly swept up in the crowd. You search for Daniel in every face that passes. You find Natalie first, though.

“Nat,” you say frantically. “Does your sister know Daniel Ricciardo?”

Her brow furrowed for a second. “What?”

“Danny Ricciardo,” you repeat, keeping your voice low. “The F1 driver. He’s here.”

“Oh,” Natalie says, brows raising. “Yeah, he’s like, friends with her fiancé- oh, her husband! Shit, I forgot that you watch that stuff- or, you… did? I can probably try and introduce you-“

“No, we- we’ve met.” You admit. She’s the first person you’re telling about this. “At that wedding like 6 months ago.”

She tilts her head at you. Her eyes go wide. She says your name in a bewildered tone.

“Are you telling me that the mystery wedding man, who you definitely should’ve dumped your boyfriend for, was fucking Danny Ricciardo?”

“Keep it down!” You shush her.

“Oh my god,” she says, a conspiratorial smirk crossing over her face. “And he’s here.”

Someone calls your name. You know that voice- it’s haunted you since you left that wedding. You turn over your shoulder as Natalie grabs your wrist and lets out a squeak.

“Danny,” you breathe, like a sigh of relief. “Hi.”

He strides up to you, handsome as ever, grinning so widely it looks like it hurts. “This is fucking insane.”

An elderly aunt glares at him. He makes an apologetic face before turning back to you and shrugging. He steps into your space, so close you can smell his cologne. He’s staring down at you through his lashes. The look in his eyes is so soft and warm that you think you’re melting.

“The bride is my best friend’s sister,” you explain, gesturing at Natalie. “This is Natalie.”

“I’m friends with the groom,” he says, reaches his hand out and shakes Natalie’s hand. “I’m Danny, nice to meet you.”

She nods, and suddenly you’re very afraid. Natalie doesn’t have much of a filter, especially in high pressure situations. Especially when she’s been forced to be prim and proper all morning.

“You must really like American weddings,” she says, and you wince. “I hear this is your second one in 6 months.”

Daniel smirks, raises his eyebrows at you. “Huh. Wonder what else you’ve heard about me.”

She opens her mouth to say something, but you shove her shoulder. “Nat, aren’t you supposed to be taking family pictures?”

She’s so busy staring at Daniel she almost doesn’t hear you. Then her eyes go wide. She swears loudly, earning a glare from the same aunt. Then she drops your wrist and takes off through the crowd.

You turn towards Daniel. “Sorry about her.”

He shakes his head. “No need. She seems sweet.”

You smile. “She is.”

“Makes sense, since she’s friends with you,” he says. “The sweetest of them all.”

You laugh, shove at his shoulder lightly. “Shut up.”

Behind him, people are starting to get on the shuttles. He’s leaning towards you, eyes still lit up.

“I honestly can’t believe this,” he says.

“Neither can I,” you admit. “It’s.. it’s really good to see you.”

“It’s good to see you,” he echoes. “Feels like a sign, doesn’t it?”

You open your mouth to agree, to tell him what you’ve been thinking the past 6 months, but Natalie is calling your name. You and Daniel both turn to look at her, and the look on her face tells you she’s so sorry. You sigh and shrug.

“I have to go,” you tell him. “That bridal party is a mess.”

“Worse than the last one?” He asks.

“No,” you say. “And I don’t have to drive any of them home, so that’s a bonus. But I think I’ll be billing them for wedding coordinator expenses after this. Or at the very least, drinking enough at the open bar to make up for it.”

Daniel laughs. “Atta girl. Should I save you a seat on the shuttle?”

You let out a puff of air. “I’m riding over with the bridal party.”

His face falls in disappointment. “Okay. Find me when you get there, yeah? I’ll have a Shirley Temple waiting for you.”

You nod. “Make it a Dirty Shirley, would you?”

He nods eagerly and squeezes your arm.

You don’t actually make it into the reception until nearly an hour later. There’s an emergency with a groomsman’s tux, and the girl who was broken up with the night before is crying again. Nothing that can’t be fixed with safety pins and tequila, but it still takes time. You check your name on the seating chart, sigh at the sight of the name next to yours, the seat that will stay empty. You find Daniel’s seat, too, a few tables over from yours. You head there first.

Daniel is sitting, a beer in hand and a very watery Shirley Temple on the table in front of him. He’s chatting with the man sitting next to him, who looks a bit starstruck. He perks up when he sees you, reaching for your drink. You take it happily and have a sip, tasting ginger ale, grenadine, and vodka, too.

“The ice is a bit melted,” he says with a sigh. “But good news! Ian here has offered to switch seats with you.”

Ian is looking between you and Daniel, eyes wide. You’re sure he did offer, likely after Daniel had told him the whole crazy story, or at least enough to convince him. You watched him charm bartenders at the last wedding- he has a way with words. Ian starts to stand up.

“That’s really not necessary.” You say, and Daniel’s face falls. “There’s an empty seat at my table.”

He lifts his brows, grinning again. His brown eyes stare deep into your own. He stands up without waiting another moment, handing you your drink and holding his own.

“Ian, nice meeting you,” he says. “I’ll still get you those paddock passes,” he promises, and you bite back a laugh. “See ya ‘round, mate.”

He follows you to your table. There’s a setting with your name on a little card, and the empty setting next to it with another name on it. You grab that card and crumple it in your hand, shoving it into your purse. He quirks a brow but sits down anyways as you greet the others at your table- cousins of the bride and friends who you’ve met a few times.

“So. How’ve things been?” You ask, and he launches into a story that has you listening with every bone in your body.

Somehow, the two of you make it all the way through dinner and speeches and the first dance before the subject of your boyfriend even comes up. You wonder if he’s been waiting to broach it. You’ve been waiting for the right moment.

He nods towards the dance floor. “You have to promise me you’ll dance to at least one song tonight.”

You blink and shrug. “Easy. I love dancing.”

He stares at you. There’s the beginnings of another wide grin on his face.

“That is not what you said last time.”

“I lied,” you admit. “Because my boyfriend hated dancing.”

Daniel nods. “Hated. Past tense?”

“He’s not dead,” you deadpan, making him laugh. “But he’s also not my boyfriend anymore.”

Daniel’s foot nudges against yours under the table. “No?”

“No,” you say with a shrug.

Daniel nods. “Pretty girl like you, you must’ve moved on pretty quick,” he says.

His tone is light, teasing. He’s testing the waters. You shake your head and pretend you don’t see the way his shoulders sag in relief.

“I’ve sworn off dating,” you tell him. Your tone is teasing, too. “After he left me on my own at a wedding, I decided men are shit.”

You’re taunting him now. The conversation has gone from feeling each other out, from digging for information, to circling each other like sharks in the water. Your heart is beating steady in your chest. His eyes are locked on yours.

“You poor thing,” he says, eyes sparkling. “Let me prove you wrong?”

The tension crackles in the air. His knee nudges against yours and you swear you’re going to combust. You down the rest of your drink in one gulp, set the glass down, and reach for his suit jacket. You run your finger down the lapel, then back up, adjusting his collar.

“I swore off men,” you repeat, leaning forwards, keeping your voice low. “But this feels like a sign, doesn’t it? Like the universe sent me back to you.”

He nods. He reaches up, captures your wrist in his hand and holds it against his chest.

“So maybe you should go get me another drink,” you suggest. “And I’ll meet you on the dance floor.”

You lean even closer, then, close enough to press your lips to his cheek. Then you stand up and walk away towards where people are beginning to gather, to where the music is loudest. You don’t turn back to see if he’s watching. You already know he is.

…..

You have a fleeting thought, later, that maybe you should’ve switched to a drink with less sugar in it at some point in the night. The grenadine feels like it’s stuck to your tongue. Danny doesn’t seem to mind the taste, though.

He’s got you up against the wall in a back hallway of the reception venue. You back is pressed to the cool surface, your arms around his neck, his hands on your hips. His lips are on yours, and he’s kissing you deeply, like he’ll never get enough. You’re feeling the same.

His knee slots between your legs, and you’re a goner. His hand slips from your hip and cups your ass, hauling you closer with ease, tilting your hips away from the wall and into his. You break away for air, gasping for it, and he moves his lips to your neck. It feels heavenly, trapped between him and the wall, his hands all over you, his lips trailing lower and lower. He reaches up and brushes the thin strap of your dress off one of your shoulders. You shove your hands under his suit jacket and press them against his toned abdomen through his shirt. He lets out a groan, the noise vibrating against your neck. You throw your head back and laugh between gasps.

You wonder if he’d have his way with you right there. You wonder if you’d let him.

There are footsteps, then, clicking their way down the hall. You scramble to push him away as someone rounds the corner, but you know it’s painfully obvious. You turn your head, already feeling mortified, and come face to face with Natalie.

“Oh, thank god,” both you and your best friend say at the same time.

Daniel pulls away and looks between the two of you. You can’t look at him for more than a few seconds. His lips are red and puffy, his eyes half lidded. You distantly wonder if there’s beard burn on your face, if your lips are just as red. Then you start to wonder how his scruff might feel on other parts of you.

“I didn’t know where you’d gone,” Natalie says, laughing. “I heard noises, I thought…”

“I’m fine,” you tell her, and she nods in agreement.

“I’ll say,” she teases.

“Nat!” You hiss.

“You’d better take good care of her, Ricciardo,” he says, and your face grows hot all over again. “I don’t care how famous you are, I’ll fuck you up anyways.”

“Nat!” You hiss again.

“I will,” Danny promises, squeezing your hip and nodding. “I’m on a mission. Trying to prove not all men are shit.”

“Good luck,” Natalie says drily. But when she walks away, she’s smiling.

He turns back to you, and this time he places both his hands on the wall on either side of your head. You look up at him, licking your lips. You still taste the Shirley Temple, and you can taste him, too, now. He groans softly and closes his eyes. It’s nice to know you’re having an effect on him, too, nice to know you’re not the only one feeling worked up. You reach up and tug on the lapels of his jacket. You brush your lips against his jaw.

“We should have one more drink,” you tell him, humming happily. “And then you should take me to your hotel.”

He swallows. You press a kiss to the center of his throat.

“I’ve never heard a better plan in my whole life.” He says.

…..

At every wedding you go to afterwards, you order the same drink. Well, really, Danny orders them for you. You’ve thought a couple times about asking for wine or seltzer or even beer. You think it might break his heart, though. It’s a tradition now, and the pink sugary concoction will always taste like that very first night. Like bare feet in the grass, the thud of beanbags against wooden boards. Like Daniel’s laugh in the middle of the best man’s speech. Like you, alone at a table, and Daniel collapsing into the seat next to you, his hand extended to shake yours.

The same hand that’s wrapped up with yours now, resting on his knee. You never want to let go. You’re pretty sure he’d be okay with that.

Taglist: @4-mula1 @celestialams

#daniel riccardo x reader #Danny Ricciardo x reader #Daniel Ricciardo x you #Danny Ricciardo x you #f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 x you #honeywrites #formula 1 fanfic

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munson-blurbs · 4 months

Text

Eddie Munson x Shy!Reader

Summary: Max and Lucas are tired of their friends silently pining over each other but never making a move, so when the Winter Formal rolls around, they take matters into their own hands.

Warnings: mutual pining, idiots in love, fluffy fluff

WC: 1.8k

A/N: Happy anniversary to the love of my life, @corroded-hellfire 💚 one year ago today, we met in person for the first time, and my life has been infinitely better ever since. Thank you for being my best friend. I love you more than Dustin loves his Weird Al shirt. Red, this fic is for you.

Divider credit to @saradika

“Kill me now.”

Three words uttered by none other than Max Mayfield, sliding her lunch tray onto the table and sitting down with an irritated sigh.

You look at her with an amused grin. “What is it this time? Bombed a pop quiz? Got detention for flipping off a teacher—again?” Her brazen, flippant attitude provided many entertaining moments, so long as you weren’t on the receiving end of it.

Max shakes her head, spearing a limp macaroni noodle with her plastic fork. “I wish.” She holds up two tickets to the Winter Formal. “Lucas is dragging me to this bullshit. ‘All the other basketball guys’ girlfriends are going,’” she mocks him in an octave much lower than his actual voice, “so I guess that means I have to follow suit.”

Bringing a hand to your heart, you jut out your lower lip in mock-pity. “Oh, no; your boyfriend wants to show you off at a school dance! How will you ever survive?”

Max doesn’t miss a beat. “You could go, too,” she says, blue eyes pleading. “Keep me company when the guys inevitably bail to get wasted in the woods.”

“I don’t—”

“You don’t need a date,” she insists, reading your mind before the words can leave your mouth. “I’m telling you, Lucas is gonna ditch me as soon as Jason and Patrick show up.” She takes your hand between both of hers. “Please? I’ll even tell Ms. Kelly the lengths you went to for your poor, troubled freshie.”

You exhale, knowing that she doesn’t need to go to all of that trouble. You’d started off the school year as her peer mentor, but just a few months later, you two have become close friends. “Fine, I’ll go,” you acquiesce, laughing when she pumps her fists victoriously. “But I’m not gonna be happy about it.”

You return to your own lunch, completely missing the mischievous look that graces her freckled face.

Unbeknownst to you, a similar discussion is had at Hellfire Club later that same afternoon.

“Absolutely not,” Eddie scoffs, folding his arms across his chest. “Nice try, Sinclair, but I wouldn’t be caught dead at some lame dance.”

“Seriously,” Jeff smirks from his position across the table. “He’s never been to a single one in his ten years of high school.”

Eddie flips him off casually. “It’s only six, asshole. But that doesn’t matter, because I’m not dressing up in some penguin suit to drink unspiked punch with a bunch of shitty people.”

“C’mon, dude,” Lucas says, his tone bordering on a whine. “If you don’t go, I’m gonna be stuck with the jocks all night, and they just wanna suck face with their girlfriends.”

“And you don’t?” Gareth quips.

Lucas rolls his eyes. “Not in front of everyone. And I don’t need a front-row seat to their performances, either.” He turns his attention back to the Dungeon Master. “Look, I’m desperate. Mike’ll be visiting his grandma and Dustin’s grounded because of his D-plus in Spanish.”

Eddie narrows his eyes. “What about Huey, Dewey, and Louie over here?” he asks, gesturing to the three remaining club members.

Their collective responses are jumbled excuses; Eddie swears one of them says he’s going kayaking—in mid-December in Indiana—but he doesn’t bother to sift through their lies. “You owe me, Sinclair,” he declares, pointing his forefinger at the underclassman. “Big time.”

The next few weeks leading up to the Winter Formal are spent meticulously making plans. For someone who seemed so disinterested in this dance, Max is paying careful attention to each detail.

You walk out of the dressing room in a velvet emerald green dress that hits just above the knee. Max is beaming as she adjusts the off-the-shoulder sleeves and smooths down any creases.

“You look really nice,” she says, nodding her head. She’s trying to temper her enthusiasm, but you can sense her excitement. “I can’t wait to tell Lucas.”

You wrinkle your nose. “Lucas? Why would he care?” He’s a nice kid—more in tune with emotions than the average fourteen-year-old boy—but that doesn’t constitute an interest in your fashion choices.

Max’s cheeks burn as red as her hair. “Uh, well, seeing you happy makes me happy, and seeing me happy makes him happy, so…everyone’s happy?” she finishes lamely. She clears her throat as if expelling the awkwardness from the conversation. “Anyway, let’s buy this dress so we can look for shoes.”

“Yeah, okay.” You’re not fully convinced, but you brush it off and steel your nerves to ask a question. “Is anyone else gonna be there that we know?” You really want to know whether Eddie Munson is going to be there, but you can’t say the quiet part aloud.

“Probably,” she shrugs, a bit too quickly, but she’s pushing you back behind the curtain to change before you can inquire more.

“Why does this stupid tie need to be green?” Eddie asks, sifting through the store’s selection with Lucas by his side.

“Uh, Christmas colors,” Lucas stammers, fumbling for a decent explanation other than the contents of his secret phone call with Max earlier today. “And, y’know, red is way overdone, so…” he trails off lamely, going back to the display table and hoping Eddie drops the matter.

They find exactly what they’re looking for—not without Eddie complaining about putting in too much effort just to be a third wheel—and make their way over to the food court. Eddie makes a beeline for the Pizza Hut when he stops dead in his tracks. “Shit, Sinclair; we gotta go,” he says urgently, clapping a hand on the younger boy’s shoulder and steering him away from the fast food.

“What the hell? I’m hungry!”

Eddie shakes his head, curls brushing against his shoulders. “Look, man.” He discreetly points to his left, where you and Max are giggling at the Orange Julius. “We can’t let them see us.”

“Dude, she’s like the nicest person ever,” Lucas rebuts. “Even Max likes her, and Max pretty much hates everyone.”

“That’s not the problem.” Eddie rakes his ringed fingers through his hair, wincing when he snags one on a knot. “The problem is that she’s gonna be all, ‘hi, Eddie; what’re you doing at the mall?’ And I’m gonna be all, ‘just picking out a tie for the Winter Formal.” And then she’ll go, ‘oh, who’s your date?” And then I’ll have to say, ‘I don’t have one; I’m just playing babysitter to some freshmen like a goddamn loser!” He hops back and forth to indicate each character change.

“First of all, ouch,” Lucas quips, “second, go hide in the bathroom if you want, but I’m getting something to eat.”

Eddie exhales an exasperated sigh, giving in and schlepping over to Pizza Hut, one of the few times in his life that he’s trying to be inconspicuous.

You pull into the school parking lot on the night of the Winter Formal and shift into park before killing the engine. Max is bouncing her leg up and down in the passenger seat, lower lip tucked between her teeth.

“What’s on your mind?” you ask, mistaking her excitement for anxiety. “You know that Lucas would think you look beautiful even if you showed up in a potato sack.” You furrow your brow. “Where is he, anyway? Why didn’t he come with us?”

She mumbles something about not wanting her mom to ask any questions about the relationship, and you take them at face value. Her eyes light up when she spots her boyfriend walking into the school alongside…Eddie Munson?

“Eddie’s here?” you ask in a hushed whisper, feeling sweat prickling under your arms. You’ve been nursing a massive crush on him for ages–one that Max is very much aware of. And now he’s here, dressed in a black suit with his hair pulled back into a low bun at the nape of his neck. “Max, why didn’t you tell me? Who’s he going with?” The idea of him slow dancing with someone else has your stomach turning.

Max just shrugs. “I don’t think he had a date.” Too casual, too blasé–she knows something. “C’mon, let’s go in.” She swings the car door open enthusiastically, leaving you shell-shocked in your seat.

“Maxine Mayfield!” you hiss, using her full government name to drive home your bewilderment, but she just skips ahead. Damn your heeled shoes, slowing you down before you can catch up to her. When you finally do, she just grabs your hand and tugs you towards the guys.

She poorly feigns surprise, jaw dropping as she exclaims, “Eddie? What are you doing here? Oh, my gosh, this is such a coincidence!” She pulls you closer, smiling far too wide. “Lucas and I both brought our upperclassmen friends! What are the odds?”

“Yeah, so weird,” Lucas says, not as loud as Max but just as transparent. He looks at Max before regarding you and Eddie. “Okay, well, we’re gonna go dance–bye!” The two of them scamper off, leaving you alone with Eddie. If their stilted dialogue wasn’t evidence enough, the way Eddie’s tie perfectly matches your dress certainly clears up their intentions.

Eddie speaks first, shoving his hands in his pants pockets and nervously swiveling his body. “I, uh, think we’ve been set up,” he says with a small, awkward chuckle. “I swear, it wasn’t my idea. Not–not that it’s a bad thing, I just meant, like, if you’re uncomfortable with this, I don’t wanna be held responsible.” His cheeks burn red. “Shit, I need to stop talking.”

“It’s okay,” you reassure him with your own kind laugh, “we might as well make the most of it. Get some punch and make fools of ourselves out there?” You gesture towards the gym’s makeshift dance floor; the band has just started playing Journey’s “Faithfully.” Eddie’s nods, following you to an empty space, and you timidly drape your arms over his shoulders. Taking care to avoid an inappropriate touch, he rests his palms on the small of your back.

His voice is low when he murmurs in your ear, “you look really beautiful tonight.” He clears his throat and speaks again. “You always look really beautiful, though.”

The two of you sway to the music, swapping shy smiles and fleeting but longing glances. As the song ends, you look over your shoulder. “We’re being spied on,” you report, noting the way the two younger kids are watching you from across the room. You consider your next words before eventually deciding to go for it: “Did you talk to Lucas about me as much as I talked to Max about you?”

“Probably more,” Eddie laughs, bringing you a bit closer. “But I’m interested in comparing notes.”

You nod, staving off any lingering nerves. “Maybe after the dance, we can split a burger from Benny’s and discuss?”

Eddie presses a soft kiss to your forehead. “Yeah,” he says; you can feel his lips move against your skin, “I’d like that.”

#eddie munson #eddie munson fluff #eddie x reader #eddie stranger things #eddie x you #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x f!reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things fanfic #fanfic #eddie munson stranger things #stranger things

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ellemj · 5 months

Text

Needs & Wants - Sex Pollen Trope Pt. 4

Bucky Barnes x Reader

**If you haven't read part 1, part 2, or part 3 yet, you should probably head that way first.**

Summary: Round two doesn't go quite as either of you expected.

Warnings: smut, unprotected sex, sex pollen (dubcon), possessive!Bucky, near somnophilia, profanity, MINORS DNI, 18+!!!

Special thanks to @littlemiss-yeehaw for helping with the warnings <3

Feel free to let me know in the comments if this requires more warnings.

Word Count: 2.1k

Author's Note: I wish I could share the filthy mental image that I have for paragraph 10 of this, but sadly, it doesn't exist. How are we feeling here guys? Also, I'm fckin loving responding to you guys. I didn't expect to be so into it and it's just making me wanna take requests after this even more.

You awake suddenly, your eyes fluttering open and straining to adjust to the darkness around you. You’re on your right side, and as your eyes fully adjust, you realize that you’re lying inches away from none other than Bucky fucking Barnes. You’re already feeling overly feverish, with a flu-like body ache wracking your frame, and a pounding headache behind your eyes, but looking at him and remembering what you did earlier tonight adds a wave of nausea to the mix. How the fuck did the two of you let it get that far? You’re acutely aware of how exposed you are, with both of you having fallen asleep on top of the covers, there isn’t a blanket or anything that you can pull over yourself. You roll over as quietly as possible, moving to sit on the side of the bed and then reaching down to the floor and picking up your discarded t-shirt. You pull it over your head before checking your phone on the bedside table. 11:31pm. You’re three and a half hours in now. The pain that Bucky so kindly relieved for you earlier has returned, but it's rapidly worsening. You steal a glance at him over your shoulder. You’ve never seen him sleep before. Any overnight mission you’ve ever been on either involved one of the two of you being on night watch or, luckily, separate bedrooms. He looks peaceful like this, with his signature scowl missing and a serene expression gracing his features. You wonder if he looks like this every night, or only after sex. Something about the thought of him having sex any night other than tonight leaves an unfamiliar pang in your chest. However, you blindly chalk that pang up to being some random side effect caused by the chemical that’s working hard within you.

As you sit there on the side of the bed, the darkness enveloping you like a hug from a close friend, you feel it. That deep, unrelenting need to be touched again, to be fucked until you’re so full that the pain you feel right now melts away as if it never existed in the first place. You’re stronger than this. Just lay back down and go to sleep. Maybe if you dream about sex, your mind can trick your body into thinking it’s gotten what it needs and you can get through this without splintering your partnership any further. You can do this. Laying back on the bed as quietly and gently as humanly possible, you decide within yourself that you don’t need him. You don’t need his hands traveling along your searing skin, simultaneously cooling you down and making you feel impossibly hotter. You don’t need his dirty words filling the space between you and dancing around your mind until all you can think about is letting him take everything from you. And you most definitely don’t need his cock. His cock. Fuck, why did you let that into your head? Now all you can think about is the way he reached so deep inside of you, his girthy length stretching you enough that for a moment, the pain of his cock entering you for the first time was the only pain you felt in your entire body. You catch yourself tilting your head to the side to look at him again. He must’ve gotten up at some point while you were asleep to put his boxers back on, and honestly, fuck him for that. You’re left staring at his abs, at the way they rise up and drop back down so subtly with every breath he takes. Your eyes travel down his vibranium arm. You always liked his arm. Hell, you liked it even when it was silver with that damn red star. But now that it’s black and gold, built for strength and stealth, it looks like it belongs on him. Biting your bottom lip, you let your hand run up the front of your t-shirt, your fingertips deftly sliding beneath the collar of it and pulling his dog tags out so they’re no longer against your skin. You run your finger over the raised letters that spell out his name, wondering how many times he’s done the exact same thing himself. It’s almost calming. Or at least it would be if you weren’t currently replaying the moment that he pulled you in by those same dog tags earlier and fucked you until you couldn’t think straight.

A soft sigh leaves your lips and you know your resolve is crumbling, you know you’re seconds away from doing something you really shouldn’t do. Your thumb traces over the top inscription once more, James B Barnes. Fuck it. You didn’t have a plan when you threw your rational mind out the window, but suddenly you find yourself moving to straddle Bucky on the bed. As soon as your left leg crosses his lap and your drenched pussy is hovering inches above his clothed cock, he begins to stir, a low, pained groan rumbling past his lips. He needs this too, you’re sure of it, and that’s what encourages you to seat yourself on his lap. His eyes fly open now and he looks first at where your bodies are making contact, and then straight up at your flushed face. He’s died and gone to heaven. That’s what’s happened. He’s positive. When he sees you on top of him, wearing only a t-shirt and his dog tags, he has to wonder how yesterday’s mission went so unbelievably right that he ended up here. His hands are quick to find your hips, pushing your t-shirt up a little so he can touch your skin directly. The touch immediately soothes some of your bodily aching and you lean forward, bracing yourself with your hands resting on the bed, on either side of his head. He sucks in a deep breath, trying to gather himself enough to think straight while he keeps his eyes trained on the little silver shapes dangling from your neck right in front of him.

“Did you need something, sweetheart?” Bucky taunts after a few seconds of composing himself beneath you, a smirk playing on his lips. Even barely awake and caught off guard, he’s an ass. You shake your head and grind yourself down on his already hard cock, the friction making you fight back a moan that’s threatening to rise from your throat. He lets out a groan of pleasure now, his grip on your hips tightening instinctively and his eyes closing.

“Shut the fuck up, Barnes. Don’t act like you don’t need this too.” You retort, continuing your actions with your hips as you lower yourself down until your face is only an inch away from his. You let the tip of your nose brush against his and he opens his eyes, staring up at you with an indecipherable look. “Be honest with me, you offered to do this as some kind of heroic act, but you secretly wanted this.” Bucky swallows audibly and you’re starting to get high off of the effect you have on him. Technically, it’s the effect that the chemical is having on him but you let yourself pretend for a moment that it’s all you. As your breath fans across his lips, he feels an unwelcome anger spreading through him. Anger stemming from the fact that you’d tease your lips in front of him like this, dangle something so tempting right in front of his face yet refuse to indulge him.

“Think what you want.” He huffs, his grip on your hips loosening and throwing you off guard momentarily. You freeze on top of him, backing away from his face a bit and trying to gauge his mood. He’s obviously horny enough to fuck, as evidenced by the hard-on that’s currently pressing against your soaked panties. Is he just trying to act like he doesn’t want it because you accused him of wanting it? God, the pounding headache intensifies and you scrunch your eyes shut. You really need to stop thinking.

“What’s got you so pissy?” You ask, sitting back fully on his lap and rubbing your temples with the thumb and middle finger of your right hand in that way that always worries Bucky in the field. You only do it when you’re struggling to make a decision or when you’re severely bothered by something, like bothered to the point of putting a bullet in some shithead’s thigh just to get them to talk. He wasn’t planning to say anything about it, truly. His plan was to fuck you until the only thing you can possibly do is moan his name. But to hell with it. He brings it up anyway.

“You took my cock so well tonight…” His voice is full of lust and has a teasing air to it, setting your nerves on fire. The way he praises you has your thighs clenching at his sides. “But you didn’t say my name one. Fucking. Time.” Ah, there it is. That’s what’s got him so pissy. You’re learning that he has a possessive streak, which isn’t your problem at all considering you’re not someone he can possess. He can get some other girl to moan his name, but you won’t be doing it.

“You didn’t give me any reason to.” You snap back. You’re lying. You know it and he knows it. He fucked you until you saw stars and made him promise not to pull out of you. His name was on the tip of your tongue more than once, but you restrained yourself for reasons he’ll never understand.

“Fine. If that’s the story you want to go with, that I didn’t do shit for you earlier, you can get yourself off.” He says smugly, that damn smirk appearing again as he sits up suddenly, pushing you off of him. You land on the bed next to him as he quickly shoves his boxers down his legs, tossing them on the floor and laying back once again. This time, that little shit lays back and places his hands behind his head in the most relaxed position you’ve ever seen him in. Your eyes are instantly drawn to his cock, where it’s fully erect over his lower stomach and leaking clear drops of precum. Shit. You suck your bottom lip between your teeth and bite down on it a little too hard, nearly drawing blood. You arch a brow at him, wondering why he stripped if he’s going to make you get yourself off. Just like he does in the field, he reads your mind from that one look. “You’re going to get yourself off on my cock…or not at all.”

You can’t say that you’re ashamed at how fast you mounted him and seated yourself down on his cock. You can’t even say that you despised him for making you put on a show for him like that. You lied to him and pretended like he didn’t give you the best sex of your life only an hour ago, so he chose this as your punishment. A punishment that you accepted and used to your advantage, riding the fuck out of his thick cock just like he told you to. At some point, your hands were braced on his chest as you bounced your ass up and down, the tip of his cock brushing against your cervix every time you slid back down. This drew sounds from you that could turn any nightmare of his into a wet dream. Once you were right on the precipice of your second orgasm of the night, he was sure you were going to moan his name. Your head was tilted back, showing off all of that open kissable space along the column of your throat with his silver chain still draped around it, and he swears he saw his name flashing behind your closed eyelids. But you moaned out a simple fuck instead, and then you continued riding him until you both came, hard. For the second time tonight, as he empties his cock into your pretty little cunt, you both feel like you’re floating away on a pain-free cloud of euphoria. He glances over your shoulder a few minutes later when he sees you checking the time on your phone. 12:10 am. If his math is right, he may have as little as four hours left to get you to moan his fucking name.

Little does he know, that as you drift off to sleep next to him, under the covers this time, all you can think about is fully letting yourself go and moaning his name out while he fucks you in every position known to mankind.

Next Part

TAG LIST

@sarcastickiddo @donttalktosposts @marygoddessofmischief @its-daydreamer23 @lightsonnoonehome @gyokujyn @kandis-mom @millercontracting @alicia-bman @littlemiss-yeehaw @sdddoobydoobydoo @a-rotten-chicken-nugget @browneyedgirl22 @charmedbysarge @i-dont-know-how-to-words @maraaaamartinnnn @hensawweston @traderjoesmints @fictionallyunavailable4ever @black-cat-2 @just-act-natural @phoenixstark1708 @ladyvenera @walkingwithoutreason @bubblevicioussss @larajadeschmidt13 @thealloveru2 @unaxv @crist1216 @i-will-always-kneel-for-smut

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

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unclewaynemunson · 7 months

Text

Alt version of this post bc too many people asked for both <3

It's Saturday night and, like almost every Saturday night, Eddie wishes he didn't have to be at some jock party. The flashing lights, the scent of cheap mixed drinks, the incredibly mediocre loud music... And worst of all, the fucking jocks. Everywhere.

'Eddie!'

He looks up to find Steve, with a dopey smile on his face, basically skipping towards him and throwing his arms around his neck. Oh. He didn't know Steve still went to parties like those. Hadn't seen him at any of them in a while. But as soon as he gets wrapped up in an enthusiastic full-body hug, he decides there's one jock, and one jock only, that he doesn't mind running into at those parties.

'Eddie, what're you doin' here?' There's an unfocused look in his eyes and he wobbles on his legs a little bit, grabbing tighter onto Eddie for support. The touch burns through Eddie's t-shirt and he tries to ignore the shiver running down his spine.

'I didn't know you liked parties!' Steve drops his voice, slurring: 'I thought you hated the jocks.'

Eddie can't help but smile. 'I hate all jocks but one, big boy,' he tells Steve. 'Not here to party, only to get some cash.' He rattles with the metal lunchbox in his hands to illustrate his point. 'Can you let me go now so I can get on with my business, pretty please?'

'Noooo,' Steve says with an exaggerated pout. 'I'm too happy you're here! Dance with me!'

Eddie chuckles. 'I don't think you're in any state to dance right now. Jesus, Stevie, I don't think I've ever seen you this wasted before. Thought you were planning to pick up a girl tonight?'

'I was,' Steve says, suddenly sounding oddly serious. 'But it doesn't matter. Just needed to forget. The rum helped, too.' He frowns. 'Til you showed up.'

'Forget what?' Eddie asks, trying to make sense of this drunken string of words.

Something happens; something that's been happening quite often lately. Steve's eyes flash downwards, just for a second, right to where Eddie's lips are.

Eddie's heartbeat involuntarily picks up speed.

'What did you need to forget, Steve?' Eddie asks again.

'Can't tell you,' Steve mumbles so softly that Eddie can barely make it out over the loud music. 'I don't wanna make you feel guilty. I'm not judging you, y'know. 'S fine.'

He abruptly lets go of Eddie and takes a step away from him, stumbling right into some girl who pushes him back with an annoyed scoff; if Eddie weren't still standing right behind him, he would've fallen on his ass for sure.

'Alright, you're not making any sense tonight, big boy, but I can't in good conscience let you stay here by yourself. How 'bout I'll drive you home?'

Eddie glances at his watch. If he hurries, he can probably still be back to do what he came here for before the good part of the party is over. He does kinda need the cash.

'Can't,' says Steve. 'Can't go home with you.' Something in his voice is breaking and suddenly there are tears in his eyes, and Eddie still doesn't understand what's wrong; he feels like he's overlooking something huge, something that should be obvious.

'Let's just go outside to talk, then?' he suggests.

'Can't. Dance with me, Eddie.'

But when Eddie starts gently tugging Steve towards the open door leading to the garden, Steve easily lets himself be led outside. He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath when the cool night air reaches his lungs, as if one gulp of fresh air will instantly make him sober up. But he's still swaying on his feet, making Eddie grab onto him tighter.

Eddie likes to think of himself as moderately strong, but unfortunately, hauling 180 pounds of muscled jock around is starting to take its toll on him. He spots a bench in a secluded corner of the garden and guides Steve towards it.

'This better?' he asks.

'Yeah,' Steve breathes out. Even now that they're both sitting down, Steve keeps clinging onto him. 'Look at the stars, Eddie.'

Eddie looks up at the scattering of lights twinkling far above them - but he can feel Steve's eyes still burning into his face.

When he directs his gaze back to the guy sitting next to him, Steve's face is even closer than before. The starlight is reflected in his hazy eyes, tiny specks of silver hidden in various shades of brown and black.

'I wish I could kiss you,' Steve whispers, looking at Eddie with nothing but admiration behind that glassy drunk gaze.

Eddie almost forgets to breathe. He knows that it seemed like he and Steve were headed exactly toward something like this for a while now, but he still can hardly believe that it is real. That Steve Harrington is really looking at him like he's just as precious as the stars in the sky above them.

He brings up a hand, gently caresses Steve's soft cheek.

'Maybe you don't have to wish,' he whispers back, unable to stop his eyes from flashing towards Steve's beautiful lips for a moment. 'Tomorrow. When you're not drunk anymore. If you still remember this.'

'No.' Steve shakes his head, so fiercely it makes his hair flap in all directions and his complexion at least two shades paler. 'Can't.'

'Why do you keep saying that, Steve?' Eddie asks softly.

'Cause.' For a moment Eddie thinks Steve is gonna grab his ass, but then... he randomly frees Eddie's handkerchief – the one with the skulls – from his back pocket.

'Cause of the Russians.'

Eddie can only stare at him in confusion.

'They tied me up,' Steve all but whispers. Eddie hates how small and broken his voice suddenly sounds.

He has always known – broadly speaking – about what happened to Steve and Robin miles beneath Starcourt last year. He's never actually heard Steve talk about the details, though. All he knows is that he and Robin were captured by Russian spies and somehow made it out alive. He could always see how difficult it was for Steve to talk about it whenever it came up, but he never wanted to pry. And now here they are, at some goddamn high school jock party of all places, and all of a sudden Steve willingly brings it up.

'I was with Robin,' Steve continues, still in that scared and broken voice. 'And they tied us to a chair. We couldn't move. And they – they hurt me. They hit me. 'Til I was bleeding all over. I thought I was gonna die. Robin thought I was dead.'

'Jesus Christ, Steve,' Eddie breathes out, tightening his grip around Steve's torso.

'So I can't,' Steve mumbles, holding up Eddie's handkerchief as if it's some kind of logical explanation for whatever it is he's trying to tell Eddie.

'Wh- What?'

'I know what it means, Eddie,' he says, as if he's even remotely making sense right now. 'You know John?'

'Who the hell is John?' Eddie only keeps finding himself more and more lost in this conversation.

'My cousin,' Steve says, like it's obvious, like he's ever talked about some cousin named John to Eddie before. 'The one in New York. He knows all about that shit, right? He sends me the good magazines sometimes when my parents aren't home. That's how I know.'

'Know what?'

Steve only waves around with that stupid handkerchief again.

'You're flagging, aren't ya? You like pain. Like BS... BM...'

Eddie feels his jaw drop.

'What the fuck are you talking about?' he asks. 'It's – this is a metal thing. It looks metal. I literally have no idea what you're – flagging?'

Now Steve's face finally mirrors the confusion Eddie has been feeling for the past ten minutes.

'Are you serious?' he asks, for one second showing more clarity in his eyes than Eddie has seen all evening.

Eddie nods.

'So it's not...' Steve stops himself, swallows, frowns. 'You're not into, like, hurting people and shit?'

And finally, it all clicks together in Eddie's mind: the repeated chorus of I can't, the story about the Russians, the goddamn handkerchief... Flagging. BDSM.

'Why the hell would I get off on hurting you, Steve?' is all he can get out of his mouth.

And Steve honest-to-Satan starts giggling; it sounds so relieved that Eddie kinda feels like giggling too, scary metal image be damned.

'I dunno, it's more common than you think,' Steve mumbles. 'I wouldn't judge you, alright? But I knew I could never give you that. No matter how much I like you. And then you'd get bored of me.'

'Oh, Steve,' Eddie whispers out. 'You don't need to worry 'bout that, I swear. For all I care, we can have the most vanilla sex in the world forever. Or never have sex at all. As long as it's with you... I'm good.' Eddie cringes as soon as the words leave his mouth: it sounds too cheesy, too sincere. He kinda hopes Steve will have forgotten this particular part of their conversation tomorrow morning.

But Steve doesn't look at him like he thinks it's stupid at all: his eyes are wide and he's smiling a soft smile.

'You sure? You won't get bored?'

Eddie chuckles. Now that he's being too goddamn cheesy anyway, he might as well double down on it. 'I can't imagine getting bored of getting to hold this body in a million fucking years. In any way you'll have me.'

Steve heaves out a relieved sigh before he buries his head against Eddie's chest.

'Can I bring you home, now?' Eddie asks.

There's a twinkle in Steve's eyes when he lifts his head again.

'Ooohhh... You wanna have the most vanilla sex in the world with me now?'

A chortle escapes Eddie's lungs.

'Um, maybe tomorrow, when you're not drunk off your ass,' he answers with a wink. 'For tonight, just lemme get you to bed, 'kay?'

'Okay, big boy,' Steve answers, and Eddie can't help but laugh before he presses a kiss against Steve's forehead.

#don't mind me rambling about stranger things #thought i'd finally put in my own 2 cents about them hanky debate #if you even care #seriously have fun with your hc's however you like but #let's address the trauma here alright #(and let them have the most boring vanilla sex forever i guess)#can you tell i'm in my soft steddie era?#I JUST NEED THEM TO BE SOFT GODDAMNIT #maybe it's my own yearning but LET THEM BE SOFT #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #fanfic #fruity ficlet #tw alcohol

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gentlyweeps-world · 3 months

Text

the chase

summary: Lando hates the chase but you love it.

pairing: lando norris x fem!reader

warnings: brief (none at all) mentions of alcohol

notes: another lando fic, I’ll be working on the next part of my sarge series (it will be a small filler part)

LIGHTS OUT AND AWAY WE GO

Lando was used to being sought after- not having to chase after the person he wanted.

He was like that until he met you- a mutual friend of Pietra’s, and he was down bad.

He didn’t realize this until he was quite literally following you like a puppy dog around a club he was asked to be the DJ at for the night.

Lando approaches you again, trying to avoid bumping into anyone as he tries to cross the crowded dance floor.

He notices you immediately though, and his eyes seem to light up with excitement. He walks over to you and smiles brightly.

"Y/n! Hi!" He shouts over the loud music.

“Oh! Hey! Hi Lando!” You say with a smile, moving over towards him with your choice of drink in hand. “Sorry I wondered off before!”

Lando laughs, shaking his head.

"Nah, that's alright - it's a mad club after all. Can't expect us not to get separated in it."

He leans in a bit closer, leaning over the dance floor to get close enough to hear you properly.

"But I'm glad I found you again, you look really great," He says, giving you a quick wink.

“Thanks!” You say with a smile, moving just a bit closer to him you reach up and rest your hand on his bicep.

“Actually…I saw one of my friends earlier, I’m gonna go try and find her!” You say giving him a small smirk as you squeeze his bicep and walk away.

Lando laughs slightly as you squeeze his bicep, giving him a little shiver of excitement.

He can't help but watch you, admiring the sight of you as you walk away.

Lando shakes his head after a moment, trying to clear his mind, and continues to move through the crowd, back to the DJ booth.

Throughout the next hour you and Lando are continuously making eye contact with shy smiles.

Lando tries to keep the eye contact for as long as possible - he finds the small smile you're giving him cute.

There's not much he can do from the DJ booth, so he just continues to look at you occasionally, watching you as you dance and have fun with your friends.

At some point Lando had snuck down to find you, which you weren’t aware since you were on the dance floor.

You felt a hand grab your wrist and pull you towards them, “Hey..! Oh Lando..”

"Hey, did you...miss me?" Lando asks you with a grin, his eyes shining brightly in the low lighting.

He takes your hand in his and smiles, pulling you closer to his chest, where he can better hear your voice over the beat of the music.

“I think you missed me if anything..” You reply with a smile.

"Hmm, maybe I did..." Lando laughs, looking around the crowded room. "Let's get out of here, shall we? Somewhere quieter so we can actually talk?"

“I don’t know..I actually quite fancy this atmosphere..” You say with a smirk pulling away from Lando.

Lando rolls his eyes, smiling, and pulls you back towards him.

"What, you wanna spend the rest of the night on this dance floor? Because I promise, there's a better place to spend it."

“Yeah? And where would that be?” You say smiling at Lando.

"How about - my apartment?" Lando suggests cheekily, leaning forward slightly as he stares down at you.

"Think you'd enjoy that?"

“No..I don’t think I would” You respond with a smirk.

Lando laughs, a sly smile stretching across his face as he keeps his eyes on you.

"Sure about that?" He asks, getting a little closer; you can feel his breath on your neck.

“Yeah..I’m sure” You say softly, smirking up at him.

"Hmm, is that so?" Lando whispers, trailing his fingers up and down your arms, sending shivers throughout your body.

He steps closer to you so that he can hear you a little better, keeping his voice low.

"You sure you aren’t a little tempted?"

“Yes Im sure Lando..” You say with a giggle.

Lando laughs once again, clearly amused by your attempt at rejecting him. But he doesn't let this stop him from continuing to get closer to you.

"Reallyyy?" He asks teasingly, sliding his hands down your arms until they reach your waist.

“Yes really..” You respond with a smile, but think time you don’t pull away from him.

Lando laughs again at your response, keeping hold of your waist with one hand as he leans into you. His breath is warm against your neck as he speaks quietly.

"I don't know about that. I'm pretty sure you might have a little bit of interest in me after all."

“Maybe just a tiny bit…” You whisper out with a smile, eyes twinkling as you look at him.

Lando laughs as you admit to having a tiny bit of interest in him, before leaning even closer to you. His breath tickles against your skin, sending shivers down your body.

"I bet it's a lot more than 'just a tiny bit'..." He whispers in your ear, his voice low and husky.

“But why would I admit that..?” You say with a smile, wrapping your arms around his neck.

Lando laughs quietly, his body pressing against yours as he wraps his arms tightly around you, one hand resting on your hip; the other is resting underneath your chin, holding your face so he can look into your eyes.

"Because...I think you want me to know."

“Maybe..” You say, eyes shifting from his down to his lips.

Lando smiles at that, looking at your lips as he begins to lean forward towards them.

But before your lips could meet you press your finger to his lips, stopping him.

“At least take me out first Norris” You say with a grin.

Lando laughs at your response, his mouth curling up into a smug grin.

"Alright... you got me Y/n." He replies, leaning back and letting go of you, looking at you with an amused expression.

"So... when do you want me to take you out?"

“Tomorrow sounds good..” You say with a smile.

Lando nods, his eyes brightening with excitement at the thought of taking you out.

"Tomorrow it is... I'll pick you up at 7:30?" He asks looking at you.

“Sounds perfect”

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

radio 🪩: Boom another Lando fic. I promise I’ll put out another part of rookie days 🫶

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donatellawritings · 15 days

Note

does bff!rafe ever yell at latina reader? like does he ever correct her/put her in her place like he would prolly be so hot

he’s kinda mean in this one sorry :(

it wasn’t an often occurrence for you to be put in your place by rafe, but it did happen at times. you were always so perky and bubbly that just couldn’t contain yourself, or you worked yourself out to the point of being a restless little brat. nevertheless, rafe wasn’t afraid to check you back into reality, if needed — plus, he was your bestest friend in this world, he couldn’t steer your wrong! and sure, to the public eye, his methods would seem to be a bit harsh, but you knew deep down that rafe was a man, and men had a duty to take care of the ones they love and keep them in a straight line, right?

today had been one of those days — you were sat next to rafe, all pretty and dolled up, your soft makeup enhanced but your fresh set of lash extensions and dior gloss that glazed your swollen lips, tiffany earrings glinting under the sun as you sat in your slinky cherry blossom skims dress, your feet adorned with miu miu mules. too bad, your doll-like cadence was quickly soured by the displeased frown that painted your face, your doe eyes squinted as you mindlessly chewed on your acrylic nail.

you got off on being the center of rafe’s attention, so having to take the backseat to some blonde kook who was schmooze some free coke out of him was a serious no-no.

crossing your arms, you subconsciously pushed your tits further against your chest, flipping your tousled and freshly layered hair over your shoulder, “fucking pendeja,” you mumbled, just loud enough for rafe to turn to you, his sunglasses covering the silencing glare that he sent your way.

“cut it out,” rafe warns, his voice low as he returns his attention back to the pathetic blonde, leaving you dumbfounded and a bit embarrassed.

letting out an unimpressed scoff, you raise from your seat, making your way over to barry who stood with a knowing smirk of his face, “what’s goin’ on, princesa — country club pissin’ y’off again?” he chuckles, taking a sip from the chilled bottle of beer that sat in his grip.

smoothing a manicure hand down your hip, you shrug, batting your full lashes, “i wanna go home, m’bored,” you announce, adjusting the strap of your cream mini prada bag that sat on your shoulder, “a mi no me importa que el dice — he’s mean,” you continue, earning a raised eyebrow from barry.

“if i took y’little ass home, that boy would freak out and m’not dealin’ with his crazy ass,” barry sighs, not missing the way you quickly whipped your head back to rafe, a low huff leaving your lips as he continued flashing his million dollar smile at the ditsy blonde, “yo, he’s just doin’ business, a’ight? don’t need to get all sad,” barry consoles, earning a forced smile from you.

with a small and uneasy nod, you turn your pretty little head to find rafe your rafe man spread with the blonde sat right on his lap, whispering little nothings into her ear as she snorts a line clean off of the coffee table. hot tears were quick to brim at your waterline as you stand with parted lips, your heart beating in your chest as you whip your head back to barry, who ran a stressed hand over his face.

your sad little head could barely process all of the emotions and thoughts that crashed over you. rafe was supposed to be your best friend — he wasn’t supposed to hurt you, he was supposed to be yours. he kissed you, he took you shopping, he danced with you, he read novels with you, he knew you better than you knew yourself … you were supposed to be his girl.

keeping your wet bambi eyes trained on your feet, you let out a quiet whimper, “barry, can you please take me home?” you asked politely, quickly knuckling your stream of tears as barry wordlessly nodded, nudging your forearm with the surface of his rough hand.

𝜗𝜚 ‧₊˚ ⊹

sat on your fluffy powder pink duvet, thumb in mouth, you managed to chip the pearlescent polish that coated you structured nail, knees curled into your chest. your dress had been swapped for tiny pink shorts and a skimpy white camisole that clung to your frame. barry was so nice to you, even making sure that you were inside of your house, before he sped off.

you was sparkly eyes now blinked all swollen from your relentless tears, nose and cheeks flushed as the sound of heavy footsteps grew closer to your locked bedroom door, pulling your thumb out of your mouth, you sniffle as rafe’s voice calls out from the other side of your door, his hand fumbling with the secure knob, “c’mon kid, just open the door, yeah? i know y’mad at me,” he sighs, taking a brief pause from jiggling the door knob, before sending a light shove into the door, “i swear to god, i’ll fuckin’ break this door,” he calls out, sending a harder shove into the door.

your doe eyes widened with fear as you hopped off of your bed, rafe’s frustrated hits against the door growing harder as you pad over to unlock the door, barefoot and all.

wrapping your small hand around the knob, you coyly open the door, your short and meek frame met with an impatient rafe who towered over you with blown pupils, “fuck are y’doing, leavin’ with barry, huh?” he questions menacingly, his button-up now revealing his firm chest as he tongues the inside of his cheek, “y-y’say that slick shit while m’doin business, and then y’wanna fuckin’ leave?” he laughs, completely unamused as he cocks his head to the side.

remaining silent, you shrug, bottom lip poked out into a pout as you reach to softly close the door behind rafe, “i dunno,” you whimper, your voice cracked as rafe shoves your arm away from the door, before slamming it shut and locking it with a forceful hand.

“i let y’spoiled ass get away with a looot of shit, don’t i? y’get your little fuckin’ attitude — who’s the one that fixes it, huh?!” rafe asks rhetorically, jabbing his fingers into his chest as you squeeze your dolly eyes shut, stray tears rolling down your cheeks.

letting out an unfazed scoff, rafe shoots a hand out to latch onto your jaw, painfully mushing your cheeks together, “y’think i let people bitch me around, princess? look at me when m’talkin to you!” he shouts, your dewy eyes fluttering open as a choked-up cry leaves your pillowy lips.

gently pawing at rafe’s flexed wrist, your eyes soften, “y’scaring me, papi,” you squeak out, small shorts wedged between your ass cheeks as rafe’s eyes shoot down to the bff locket that sits between the valet of you supple breasts.

returning his eyesight to meet yours, rafe swiftly removes his hand from your sore jaw as he grabs ahold of your waist, spinning you to face your bed as he bends you over the edge of your bed. muffled cries leave your lips, the side of your face mushed against your duvet as rafe’s front pushes against the exposed curves of your ass.

“rafe— stop—”

“m’scarin you, yeah? y’wanna know what a guy like barry would do to your little ass?” rafe mutters, his strong hand maintaining its hold on the back of your head.

“rafe, stop! please!” you scream, pure terror in your voice as you hiccup against the sheets, loud sobs heaving out of you as rafe abruptly pulls away from you.

pained cries seep out of your mouth as you remained bent over, fat teardrops soaking your duvet as you mewl into the soft plush, you heart raced a million miles a minute, shaky hands reaching to cover your own mouth.

passing a hand through his buzzed hair, rafe lets out a shaky breath, the sound of your sharp and intense cries ringing through his ears as he shakes his head, he knew that he went entirely too far. you remained on your bent, your small frame shuddering with shock as your eyes squeezed shut, your wet lashes clumped together.

laying a hesitant hand to your sweaty lower back, rafe winces in shame as you flinch away from his touch with a scared little sob, “fuck — mama, please — m’sorry a’ight,” he sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose with his ringed finger and thumb, your sharp cries becoming entirely too much for him to bear, “okay-okay, m’gonna sit you on my lap, okay?” he coos, his palm sliding down your back in soothing strokes.

tucking his bottom lip underneath his sharp teeth, rafe waits until your cries has somewhat subsided, before he gently pulls you into his sturdy arms. still skittish, you keep your eyes shut, burying your face to hide in the crook of his cologne-scented neck. low cries sniffle from your nose as rafe carefully maneuvers himself to lean against the headboard of your bed, while keeping you securely curled against him.

“there we go,” he mumbles under his breath, gently placing one of your legs to straddle over him, you back arched as your small hands fist into his shirt for dear life.

raising a hand to stroke over your hair, rafe presses his lips to the side of your head, lightly caressing you, until your breathing evened out, your eyes still closed.

adjusting the waistband of your pink shorts, rafe gently pats your poked out ass, his other hand now scratching at your scalp as he leans his lips closer to your ear, “can y’open your eyes for me — miss those pretty eyes,” rafe asks, his voice light and airy as your fists unravel from his shirt.

slowly raising your head from rafe’s chest, you let out a smooth huff, the tip of your nose shiny as your bloodshot eyes meet rafe’s. allowing his pink lips to expand into a satisfied smile, rafe nudges your chin, “hi pretty girl … didn’t mean to scare y’like tha—”

“i thought you were going to hurt me, papi. i-i don’t like when you get like that,” you rush out, licking over your dry lips, your fingers lazily fumbling with the hem of rafe’s shirt.

mindlessly drumming his hands against the sides of your hips, rafe nods in agreeance, “i know, sweetheart an—”

“and i left, because you w-were with that stupid girl and you let her sit on your lap … you only let me do that,” you cut in once more, tits stretching against the thin fabric of your cami as you take in a shaky inhale, still not secure enough to maintain an elongated eye contact with rafe.

bringing both hands to cradle your face, rafe raises your head, requiring your full attention, “gotta let me talk for this one, okay?” he reprimands softly, earning a short nod from you.

just as rafe parted his lips to continue, you sighed, “only i can sit on your lap, mi vida,” you whine.

accepting defeat, rafe nods, pulling you in by your bff necklace to get you in a warm kiss. a gasp of shock seeped into rafe’s mouth from yours as he pulls away with a loud and wet smack, “i know, kid.”

#asks #anon #obx #rafe cameron #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron prompt #rafe cameron x reader #obx imagine #rafe cameron smut #bff!rafe #rafe x reader

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sunkissed-zegras · 4 days

Text

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐄𝐅𝐔𝐋 𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐇𝐔𝐌𝐁𝐋𝐄 𝐁𝐀𝐒𝐊𝐄𝐓𝐁𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘𝐄𝐑 ─ PB⁵

౨ৎ ─ summary | request -> "Could you write a Paige bueckers x Fem Reader pls! where they’re enemies but everyone is always teasing them (everything’s regular, like she plays for UConn and the reader can be a cheerleader or something idk). It can lead to smut or just a super cute story. Ofc you don’t have to follow the plot!"

─ word count | 1.8k

─ warnings | teasing obviously, kinda mean paige but not really, cheer coach being mean, mention of coach's weight (i had to im sorry), hurt/comfort (my new fav trope omg)

─ taglist | @xocherishxo @iienstein @yazmunson @eupheteral and here's a link to my taglist if anyone would like to join!!

─ ev's notes | my requests are closed rn but if yall wanna send in some concepts, please do i'm willing to indulge (trust me this more of a gift to me than anyone)

"OH THERE SHE GOES AGAIN, THE DRAMA QUEEN!" PAIGE MOCKS as you feel your cheeks get red in embarrassment.

KK and Azzi exchange glance before looking back at the two of you. You let out an irritated scoff as Paige drank her water, her eyebrows raising as she awaited your response. You knew she was trying to get a reaction out of you, to see you stumble over your words and get embarrassed.

"Oh shut up," you landed on the simplest response as you rolled your eyes. Paige laughed as she shook her head in amusement as KK stifled a laugh.

Paige's mocking tone grated on your nerves, sparking irritation that simmered just beneath the surface. You shot her a pointed glare, your jaw clenched in frustration as you fought to keep your composure.

Paige smirked, clearly relishing the opportunity to ruffle your feathers. "Oh, did I hit a nerve, sweetheart?" she taunted, her voice dripping with sarcasm as she took a sip of her water, her gaze never leaving yours.

"I'm not a drama queen," you scoffed. "And I wasn't even talking to you! I was talking to Azzi!"

"Well you should've spoken quieter." Paige quickly retorted as your nose flared in utter irritation. "Oh nice jersey by the way," she added as she glanced down at the jersey you were wearing.

You rolled your eyes and huffed in frustration. You were a cheerleader and your team had decided to add some extra support for the girl's basketball team, so they made all the girls wear someone's jersey.

Now this wouldn't be a problem if they would've chosen any other girl on the team, but no. Somehow you ended up with Paige's and now you're sure, you'll never live it down.

"I'll speak however I want, thank you very much," you shot back, your tone dripping with sarcasm. "And as for the jersey, it's not like I had much of a choice in the matter."

Paige's smirk widened at your response, clearly reveling in your annoyance. "And here I thought cheerleaders were supposed to be graceful."

You scoffed, resisting the urge to roll your eyes at Paige's jab. "Graceful or not, at least I'm not the one tripping over my own ego," you fired back, your tone sharp with irritation.

Paige let out a melodramatic gasp, placing a hand over her heart in mock offense. "Ouch, that stings," she replied, her smirk never faltering. "At least I can back up my ego."

You arched an eyebrow, unimpressed by Paige's attempt to deflect your jab. "Oh, please," you retorted, your voice dripping with sarcasm. "Last time I checked, being able to shoot hoops doesn't make you a saint."

"Oh, but twirling around in the air with little pom-pom's does?" Paige's laughter echoed as you rolled your eyes. "I'd like to see you try and shoot a 3-pointer."

You couldn't help but chuckle at Paige's retort, her laughter infectious despite the underlying tension between you. "Fair enough," you relented, a playful glint in your eyes. "But I'd like to see you try and nail a perfect pyramid."

Paige raised an eyebrow, a challenge dancing in her gaze. "You wanna bet?" she replied, her smirk widening into a grin.

Azzi finally cut in and the both of you snapped out of it, remembering that it wasn't just the two of you at the table. "No, Paige, you're not going to be doing any tricks until the season is over."

You and Paige exchanged a knowing glance, the teasing atmosphere still lingering in the air between you. "Damn it," Paige teased, shooting Azzi a playful pout.

Azzi simply rolled her eyes, unfazed by Paige's antics. "Someone has to keep you in line," she quipped, a hint of amusement in her voice.

KK chuckled from beside Paige. "I actually wanna see Paige try and do that little trick in the air, uh... what is it called?"

Paige shot KK a playful glare, her competitive spirit reignited by his challenge. "You mean a basket toss?"

Your eyebrows furrowed as your lips curved into a smile at Paige's response. "How did you know that?"

"You always talk about how can't nail a basket toss, what can I say? I catch on." Paige shrugged as if it was nothing as you exchanged a playful smirk. "Can't be that hard."

KK started laughing as she shook her head in amusement. "Dude, it is hard."

"It can't be that hard. Maybe for Y/N..." Paige teased as you shot her a glare. "But not for me."

"Okay, let's bet. How much?" You glared at the blonde as she laughed. "50$."

"Only 50$? Please, let's see... 100$." Paige raised an eyebrow, her competitive spirit igniting at the mention of a bet.

You exchanged a glance with KK and Azzi, a mixture of excitement and annoyance bubbling within you. "Deal, let's shake on it."

"Okay, I'll give you 100$ if I can't land it and if I can, you'll give me it." Paige explained as she accepted your handshake with a smile.

"Yeah, that's how betting works, P." You teased as Paige's grip tightened slightly, a playful glint in her eyes as she shot you a glare.

"Shut up."

"You first."

"I asked you first,"

"Technically, not really-"

KK scoffed in amusement, interrupting your banter with a shake of her head. "You two are like an old married couple," she remarked, unable to hide her amusement. "Just kiss already."

"Oh shut up!" You guys both said union, Paige's blush obvious on her cheeks as she groaned.

──

The basketball game unfolded on the court, while you stood on the sidelines, cheering on your team with all your might. The gymnasium echoed with the applause of the crowd, the energy palpable as you did your usual routine.

But tonight, everything just felt like a haze. Every cheer felt forced, every move seemed to lack the usual grace and precision that defined your performances. Maybe it was the lack of sleep or finals that had finally been getting to you, but you were exhausted.

On top of all that, your coach was watching you like a hawk, his expression disapproving. With every misstep, you could feel his disappointment weighing heavily on your shoulders, adding to the burden of exhaustion that already consumed you.

Each word felt like a blow to your confidence, leaving you feeling hurt. You tried to maintain your focus, to push past the exhaustion and perform at your best, but it felt like an uphill battle.

Your coach's voice rang out above the din of the crowd, his words sharp. "Y/N, what was that? You call that a toe touch? I've seen better from a beginner! Jesus Christ."

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as you fought to hold them back, to maintain a facade of composure in the face of your coach's harsh criticism. But inside, you were crumbling, your confidence shaken to its core.

Paige's head turned at that, she was sitting on the bench as she watched the exchange between you and the coach. Sensing your hurt, her expression softened, a flicker of concern crossing her features.

And as the final buzzer sounded and the game drew to a close, you excused yourself from the team and practically ran to the bathroom. You sniffled quietly as you let the tears out freely, feeling the weight of the entire night crashing on your shoulders.

After a few minutes, you cleaned up your running make-up and made your way back to the court to get your stuff. As you made your way towards the exit, you heard a familiar voice call out to you from behind. Turning around, you were surprised to see Paige running tp toward you, her expression softened with concern.

"Hey," she said softly, taking a step closer to you. "Are you okay?"

You nodded, forcing a small smile despite the lingering traces of tears on your cheeks. "Yeah, I'm fine," you replied, your voice wavering slightly.

She gestured for you to keep walking and you did, she walked up next to you. "You don't look fine," she remarked, her tone gentle yet firm. "Tell me what happened."

"Nothing," you replied rather defensively as Paige shot you a glare. You knew she was just trying to help so you sighed, trying to relax yourself. "It's not that big of a deal."

Paige narrowed her eyes slightly, clearly not buying your attempt to brush off the situation. "If it's bothering you enough to run off like that, then it's definitely a big deal."

You sighed, realizing that you couldn't hide your feelings from Paige, nor did you really want to. With a slump of your shoulders, you relented. "Fine, it's just... Coach was being really harsh on me tonight,"

Paige's expression softened, her concern evident as she listened to your explanation. "Yeah, I figured. I'm sorry." She paused, feeling slightly awkward as she shifted her weight from one foot to another. "If it makes you feel a better, I don't think he twirl in the air like you. Or just in general, 'cus you know, he's like 200 pounds."

Your lips curved into a smile before you even knew it, rolling your eyes as a laugh escaped your mouth. Her awkwardness melted away as she joined in your laughter as she watched your expression closely.

"No but seriously." Her smile softened as she gazed back at you. "Don't let him determine your worth. I already know you're gonna go pro." Paige paused as she took in her words, shaking her head as you let out another laugh. "Can you go pro in cheer?"

"I don't think so," you replied with a grin, shaking your head. "But hey, who knows? Maybe I'll be the first."

Paige chuckled, her smile widening as she playfully nudged your shoulder. "Well, if anyone can do it, it's you."

You felt her gaze locked on you as your lips began to hurt from grinning. You felt your cheeks warm up as her blue eyes held yours, a warmth spreading through you at the intensity of her gaze. It was as if time had slowed down, the bustling gymnasium fading into the background as you found yourself captivated by the depth of Paige's eyes.

Unable to tear your gaze away from hers, you felt a flutter of something unfamiliar stir within you—a warmth that spread from the depths of your being and settled comfortably in the space between you and Paige.

With a soft smile, Paige broke the spell, her laughter ringing out once more as she playfully nudged your shoulder. "Come on, let's get out of here."

"Where are we going?" You laughed as Paige's hand naturally fell on the small of your back to lead you to the exit.

"To celebrate with the girls." Paige smiled. You didn't need any more convincing, you were down for whatever. "You still hate my cocky ass, or whatever?"

You let out a breathless laugh as you shook your head, she always had to ruin the moment. She opened the door for you as she led you to her car, her hand lingering on the small of your back.

"Of course. You still think I'm a drama queen?"

Paige nodded as she smirked. "Always."

↳ make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated !

↳ thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡

#paige bueckers fanfiction #paige bueckers smut #paige bueckers x reader #paige bueckers #wcbb fic #wcbb x reader #wcbb #uconn headcannons #uconn #uconn wbb #ncaa women’s basketball #women's college basketball #ncaaw #uconn women’s basketball #uconn huskies

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cupcakeinat0r · 21 days

Text

DadBod!Miguel as a brat tamer

You’d been dying to go out dancing for a while now, but your man, Miguel, wasn’t too keen on going. Besides being swamped with work, he also wasn’t really into the scene due to his introverted nature. Not that you were an extrovert nor was it your scene either, however, you did love to dance. You didn’t need to drink or smoke or take those “poppers” or network with a bunch of fakes or whatever. You just loved to dance, and Miguel loves nothing more than to see you happy, so he agreed.

Miguel took you to a really nice spot in the city that played some salsa and reggaeton bangers. For Miguel, the smile plastered on your face made all the loud music and over-bearing people worth dealing with.

“Alright, mama, the floor is all yours. I’ll be waiting here.” He uses his lips to motion at a small table off to the side. Attached to his arm, you look up at him with a frown.

“You sure you don’t wanna dance with meeeee?” You bat your eyes, using one last effort to get him on the dance floor, but alas, he wouldn’t budge. To ease the disappointment, he plants a tender kiss on your forehead and tells you to have fun, and that he gets more joy out of watching you instead.

Making your way into the crowd, one of your favorite songs comes on and you immediately get into it, and like sew, you find a group of those sweet girls that are complete strangers but end up being your best friends by the end of the night because that’s how nights at the club go.

You all dance with each other, singing/screaming the lyrics at each other. Y’all salsa dance with each other, swaying your hips, letting loose. You’re having a blast, but a part of you still wishes that Miguel was dancing with you.

You glance over at the small table where he sits with his legs spread wide open, his black slacks that fit his thick thighs and ass perfectly, and his belt hugging his wide waist, his soft belly the cherry on top. His black top is buttoned up except for the top four, letting his chest hair peek. The long sleeves are fighting for their lives as they try to contain his bulging muscles. He makes the table look so small. His dress shoes are just as shiny as the thin, gold chain around his neck. He takes a swig of his drink as he looks back at you, practically undressing you with his eyes. You smile at him when you decide to give him a show.

Miguel lets his mouth sit slightly open as he watches you dance, your ass jiggling through the thin fabric of your dress. Whilst enjoying your show, he’s simultaneously looking around, making sure no one makes a move on what’s his.

The song comes to an end and a more slow one begins. You start seeing people couple up and you look at Miguel again, your hand motioning for him to come to you.

Miguel shakes his head and raises his hands in refusal, but you’re not giving up.

It’s corny, but you start lassoing a pretend rope, miming as if you’re pulling him onto the dance floor. This wins a chuckle from him, but he doesn’t get up, shaking his head ‘no’. You drop your hands in defeat then make a tear drop motion with your finger on your face and pout. He pouts as well, and mouths ‘I love you’ as a sorry for not wanting to dance.

You chuckle back and roll your eyes, walking toward the table.

“You’re really not gonna slow dance with me? Not even a little bit?” You ask with your hands on your hips.

“Baby, you know I’m not a dancer.” He says, grabbing your hand to rub circles on with his thumb.

“I’m not asking you to be a dancer, I’m asking you to hold me and step side to side with me for like 2 minutes.” You cross your arms, actually getting upset now.

“How about this, I’ll slow dance with you when we get home, alright?” He speaks lovingly, trying to compromise his own insecurities so that you were happy. You let out a short sigh, “You’re acting like an old man…” Miguel wasn’t amused by that comment, but he knows you’re just giving attitude at this point. “ay beba, por favor, no seas asi conmigo…” he tuts, grabbing you by the waist and pulling you closer in between his legs, his thumbs making circles on the fat of your hips.

“No, that’s fine. Be like that then.” You pull away from his hands to turn on your heel, going back to the dance floor.

Everyone is already paired up, and you look around awkwardly trying to figure out what to do. You feel a tap on your shoulder and turn to see a guy.

He’s absolutely nothing compared to your Miguel but you guess he’ll do for now. You smile at him and begin dancing with him. It’s bachata, so your hips are extremely close to his, his hands tightly grabbing your waist to keep you tightly against his own body.

The glass in Miguel‘s hand could’ve broken had he squeezed any tighter.

You paid no mind to him, but you could feel Miguel’s eyes practically burning a hole into you. Maybe next time, he won’t think twice about dancing with you now.

He thinks about just running in there and ripping the guy to shreds, but he knew better than to embarrass his girl in public like that. He’ll have a talk with you later, privately.

2 hours go by and Miguel sits miserably at his seat after watching you dance with strangers. When you walk back to the table tiredly, you see how pissed Miguel looks.

“Okay… I’m ready to go home!” You’re breathing hard from dancing. Miguel is silent and cold, but still stands to take your hand and walk you out of the club, holding your purse, carrying your shoes, and letting you wear his jacket.

The whole ride home is quiet and his hand that is usually on your thigh isn’t there. You know why. You felt bad, but you never asked much of him, and the one thing you ask for, he wouldn’t give to you.

Still feeling guilty, you try to start conversation in the car, about what to possibly cook for dinner or if y’all needed any groceries, but he just kept facing the road, his brows furrowed and hands clutching onto the steering wheel.

Once you two get home, you reach for your car door handle, but Miguel spits out a curt ‘wait’. Miguel hates when you open doors for yourself. That’s his job, the gentleman. He leaves the car to go over to your side to open the door, but when he does, he stands in your path, and you’re not able to get out, “Care to explain to me what all that was?” His speaks with authority.

“What do you mean?” You play slick. You knew your boyfriend was a giant teddy bear at heart, but sometimes… it was fun pushing his buttons.

“Que tu creer? The stunt you pulled at the club, that’s what I’m talking about.” You’re really trying him, but Miguel is doing his best to control his temper.

“I was just dancing. I asked you if wanted to and you said no, so-“ and in less than a second, Miguel’s pulled you over his shoulder and is carrying you into the house.

You laugh hysterically, kicking your feet, calling out his name and telling him to put you down. Oh, he was mad. You were laughing, but none of this was funny to Miguel.

“o, bueno, entonce baile con un cabron, right?”His voice starts to raise and his blood begins to boil as he walks through the front door and makes way to y’all’s bedroom.

He throws you onto your bed, your body bouncing on the softness of the comforter as you let out some giddy chuckles.

“Jealous?” You smirk, having a little too much fun with this.

“You think this is funny? Cuz’ I don’t.” His lips don’t curl even a bit, which meant you were in for it. You watch him start to unbuckle his pants, biting your lip and rubbing your thighs together.

Just when he was gonna pull down his slacks and briefs, you gasp when he grabs you by the ankles and pulls you open. He basically rips your panties off to find that you’re already starting to drip. “Puta madre, you’re so needy…” he hisses under his breath while he pulls down his briefs, revealing his own dripping, hard mess. He goes to pump himself, inches away from your heat. Watching him fuck his own hand so close to your entrance, you needed some type of relief, so you reach for your clit, but Miguel is quick to catch it and hold it above your head, pinning your other hand shortly after, “Nuh uh, you don’t get to do that. Not tonight, baby.”

His vice on your wrist is tight, making you squirm under him while he thrusts into his one hand, your wrists pinned against the pillow in the other.

His breathing picks up as he edges to his climax, the squelching of his pre-cum in his hand ringing in your ears. He purposefully moans and whimpers into the shell of your ear, putting you through absolute torture. “You don’t like it, do you? Not getting what’s yours? Huh?” He breathlessly speaks between each pound into his fist, your moans becoming more desperate. You can feel yourself clench around nothing, your body weeping for his fat cock.

“Mig, please, pleaseeeee… not fairrrrr,” you beg, wriggling under his grasp, his belly grazing yours every time you arch your back. You had your legs wrapped around his waist and any time you tried lifting your cunt closer to his dick, he’d pull away so you wouldn’t reach, and you’d whine in defeat.

“Not fair? Dancing with some idiot when I told you to wait ‘til we get home isn’t fair.” He growled. With a small whimper, he did one last, slow thrust into his hand before he could combust, edging himself because he wasn’t gonna let you have the pleasure of having his come all over your stomach. Not yet.

He lets go of your hands and positions himself on his knees, moving closer to your leaking cunt. Getting hot, he unbuttons his top and throws it across your shared bedroom, unveiling his now glistening dad bod. You thought you could come just from the sight.

“Fuck, had you not acted up, I’d be devouring this… mierda…” his mouth waters from how wet you were, but he had to stand on business. You flinched when you feel one of his thick fingers drag along your folds, from the bottom to top. When his middle finger meets your pulsing clit, he draws small circles on it, making you whine, “Miguel! Please, I’m sorryyyy, pleasepleasepleaseplease…”

Your eyes are wide shut and your mouth completely open when he starts quickly shaking his forefingers against your clit, your juices flying and falling onto his lap. Miguel takes your moans as indications that you’re close, so just when you’re about to come,

He stops.

You literally cry when he pulls away his hand, a smirk growing on his face, “Mig, I- please, I can’t- I can’t, I’m sorryyy,” you plead for his fat cock, which is practically hovering over your aching heat.

He lowers himself to you, his hands gripping onto the softness of your waist. This allows you to feel his length against your pelvic bone, twitching and wet.

“Sorry for what?” He glares down at you, waiting for your reply.

“Sorry for being mean… just wanted to dance with my man, is all,” you pouted, wrapping your arms around his neck, bringing his forehead to yours.

“I won’t do it again, I promise. Please, fuck me?” Your eyes wide with innocence and pleas, you push over Miguel’s heart. You play with his chest hair as he scans your body, thinking if he should accept your apology.

“Coño… such a brat. I’ve spoiled you, you know that?” His voice softens, lining himself up with your hips.

“Because you love me!” You baby talk back to him, batting your lashes at him knowing you’re finally gonna get what you wanted.

“I do. Too much.” Is what he breaths out before rooting a hot, tongued kiss. He groans into your mouth when he starts grinding his cock against your folds, with the addition of your hand pulling on his curly locks on the back of his head.

He pulls away, a string of saliva breaking as he looks down to guide his puffy tip to your entrance. He brings his lips to your ear again and as he slides his dick in, he simultaneously grunts in your ear, “Don’t ever do that again.”

Giving you no time to adjust, he pounds your pussy into tomorrow. The room full with your pornographic moans as well as Miguel’s, the lewd squelching, and the bed creaking. If he went any harder, he’d break it.

Miguel has your legs pushed against your chest now, putting you in a panting mess. He bunched up your dress so that your skirt was up to your midriff and the neckline sat right below your bouncing tits. The way his tip meets your spot every time had you seeing stars and yelping high-pitched gibberish. His happy trail and lower belly slapping against your clit was the cherry on top of everything.

After groaning in your ear, Miguel whispers again, “Am I still an old man, Beba? Huh?” His lip curls as he watches you go dumb from his cock.

You didn’t even bother answering him because all you could think about was how good he was filling you.

He slaps your ass and this snaps some sense into you, somewhat bringing your gaze to his. “Answer me, baby.”

Your voice shakes from the rigor of his thrusts, but you still manage a, “N-no, baby… no…” While you were somewhat right, Miguel was still technically older than you, but that didn’t stop him from fucking you like a horny college boy. The man knew how to fuck and make you come.

“That’s right, mama… fuuck…” Miguel lets a couple more groans out, his ability to be so vocal helping the coil in your stomach unfurl.

“Baby, I’m- I’m gonna c- I’m gonna come…” you barely get it out in a whisper.

Miguel slaps your ass again, “louder.”

“I’m gonna come!” You cry out, your climax about to explode, but Miguel feels you clench.

“ay, diablo… you liked that, didn’t you? Squeezing me s’good…” he slaps your ass one more time before you let out a series of ‘yes’, your hips stuttering against his.

Miguel drags out his own high, slowly pumping in and out of you as he groans into your ear, “Mmmfuckkkk mami…”

He pulls out slowly as to not hurt you, his juices mixed with yours, eventually leaking out. After telling you how good you were and placing a loving kiss to your cheek, He grabbed some tissues on the night stand and cleaned you both up.

“Hey, I really am sorry about earlier. I feel bad for how I acted.” You finally catch your breath, speaking sweetly to Miguel who was changing into a clean set of boxers. He had put you in one of his t-shirts that fits oversized and grabbed a pair of panties for you.

Miguel insists on getting you everything and doing everything for you. When he said he spoiled you, he meant it. He took off your dress and dressed you, he wiped your face with toner, got you some water, everything. You were his queen.

“Mamita, please, I should be sorry for not dancing with you.” He coddled you, pulling you to his chest. No bed sheet or pillow could compare to his soft stomach. “Well, still, I shouldn’t have reacted that way.” You look up at him from his chest and he looks down at you, his hand rubbing your back underneath your shirt.

He lets out a soft chuckle, “It’s alright, mama. Besides,” he turns over to his side, making you two face each other and he whispers, “I can just fuck the attitude out of you.”

“Hey!” You slap his shoulder while he lets out a velvety laugh.

Even though the space between y’all is minimal, it is still too far for Miguel’s liking, so he wraps you in his burly arms, your leg instinctively slinking over his waist. His laughter dies down, your own giggling coming to a stop, and he just whispers, “You know I love you, right? So much, it’s crazy.” Which makes you smile like an idiot, so you roll your eyes.

“I love you, too, viejito.” Now it was Miguel’s turn to scowl and you laugh.

But his expression melts when you kiss his nose as a quick save. Not enough, Miguel cups your face for a full kiss. It was a less passionate kiss, but a long, loving one, putting the perfect seal to an incredibly romantic and intimate moment.

Want more DadBod!Miguel? Here’s my master list bae!

Tags <3

@reewrite @pigeonmama @fayeofthenightingale

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okaylikesmomo · 8 months

Text

Exchange Part 1: Behind the Stage

10k words, 10k more in part 2, male reader, smut

“What’s your name?”

“What?!”

“I said, what’s your name?” you shouted, trying your best to be heard over the blaring music.

She looked confused for a second before shrugging her shoulders, smiling, not caring about anything - but why should she? This was supposed to be one of the most prestigious parties of the year, she was young and cute and somehow found her way in, she should enjoy it.

The way she moved her body was impeccable - she must have some sort of formal training because no average girl knows how to move like she did. Her perfect body control, matching the music, oddly impressive attention to the little movements that just made her so much more appealing to you. Top it all off with the fact that it just looked like she was having a good time, this girl knew how to have a presence.

“You’re really good at this!”

She just smiled, you weren’t entirely sure if she heard you - not that it mattered.

“Come!” she shouted, pulling you by your hand towards the middle of the dance floor, finding a little area with some more space.

This girl knew no embarrassment, not that she had any reason to be, she was unbelievably confident in herself. Her hands were all over you, even though you were just an average dancer, she guided you, made you look like an expert while she did almost all of the work.

A few people started to take notice of her, giving a bit more space while cheering her on. She clearly loved it, a smirk plastered across her face as she knew her skimpy little outfit was flashing her body to the whole room. She was thin, small, petite, yet her thighs were full enough to make you lust for her, to want her, unable to take your eyes off her.

Then she turned around, and for the first time you got a view, a beautiful view, as half of her ass was hanging out of the tiny garment that could barely be called a pair of shorts. You were a bit taken aback, but she didn’t allow you to fester in nerves; She grabbed your hands and placed them on her hips before she pressed backwards, grinding her cute little ass on your crotch.

The jeering from the crowd could barely be heard over the music, but it could be heard nonetheless. The more they cheered her on, the harder she went. At this point pretty much every eye in the room was on the two of you, or rather it felt that way, as the girl was grinding her little ass against you.

Fueled by the attention, the girl pressing her ass into your body bent over at her waist and turned back, looking at you over her shoulder. That seductive smirk of hers made you realize her attention was all you cared about, all these other people were just bystanders. This was your little moment.

She winked like a professional, as if such a thing existed, before she began to twerk her ass up and down on you. The makeshift audience erupted in shouts, everyone watching as the cute girl bounced her backside against you. Her ass was so soft, especially for such a skinny girl, and the little side to side move she did further emphasized how this girl was not an amateur.

The song eventually came to an end, leaving you face to face with the cute girl again as the crowd around you began to dissipate. You still had your hands on her hips gently swaying side to side, both of you smiling to the fullest.

“Wanna take a break?” she asked, communication finally possible as the music calmed down.

“I’d love to,” you answered as she began to guide you through the room towards the bar.

“You’re pretty good at dancing!” she complimented, flagging down the bartender.

“Me? Are you kidding, you’re the one who looked like a damn pro out there!”

“I have some practice,” she giggled as the bartender walked up.

“It’s a pleasure to serve you,” he said respectfully. “What can I get for you, and of course it’s on the house.”

“Thanks!” she said cheerily before turning to you. “What do you drink?”

“I’m good with whatever you’re having,” you answered, slightly taken aback at how the bartender greeted her.

“Whisky please! Something nice.”

“You got it, I have the perfect bottle in the back for you,” the bartender replied before quickly scurrying away.

“Huh, didn’t chalk you as a whisky girl,” you said, leaning against the bar. “You’re just full of surprises aren’t you?”

“What, do you think I’m cool because I drink whisky?” she chuckled, leaning next to you.

“I’d think you’re cool even if you got us some cosmos.”

She smiled brightly at you, her eyes squinted in the most adorable endearing way.

“By the way, what’s your name?” you asked as the bartender returned with the drinks.

The girl picked up the two glasses and handed you one.

“Lisa.”

—

“Oh my God just look at her, she has the whole room gawking at her.”

“They’d be gawking at you, too,” Jennie replied casually, sipping on her vodka cranberry. “These rich execs are all so horny, you could just stand up there and you’d have like six guys on you.”

“I don’t want six guys, I’ll leave that shit to you,” Rosé scoffed, her attention fixated on a booth across the room. “Just one.”

“No need to be so defensive,” Jennie slurred, clearly tipsy, as she wrapped her arm around the bitter girl. “You should go for it, he has a huge cock.”

“You’ve already been with him?” Rosé spat, glaring at Jennie in disgust.

“Please, I’ve sucked more than half the cocks in this room,” Jennie laughed, leaning back again on the couch while stirring her drink with the little plastic straw. “Let’s not forget how many years it's been.”

“Don’t worry, none of us forgot how quickly you became a slut,” Rosé muttered, her eyes once again locked on the man.

“Oh stop being such a bitch about it,” Jennie rolled her eyes, tossing a keycard on the table in front of Rosé. “Go take him to the suite, you’re just as much of a slut as I am at this point.”

“That would be impossible, no one is as slutty as you,” Rosé fired back.

“Oh really?” Jennie raised her eyebrows. “Oh oppa, thank you so much for the song!” Jennie mocked her voice before pretending to gag on a cock. “Oppa I’ve never sucked a cock this big before.”

“That was one time!” Rosé argued.

“Oh oppa thank you for the ride,” Jennie continued, once again making gagging noises. “Thank you for lunch oppa!”

“How did you know-”

“Oh oppa I ruined my new dress, I need to be spanked.”

Rosé snatched the keycard off the table, glaring at Jennie for a moment before the two of them broke down and started laughing. Rosé leaned over and gave her a quick hug before standing up and grabbing her bag.

“I’m going to have to talk to our staff about kissing and telling,” Rosé whined playfully.

“It’s not their fault, I basically forced them to tell me,” Jennie laughed, leaning back into her seat.

“You sure you don’t need it?” Rosé asked, holding up the card.

“Half the execs here would suck my cock if I had one, I’ll just get another one if I need it,” Jennie replied nonchalantly. “Go have your fun, I wasn’t joking about him having a huge cock.”

“Thanks,” Rosé said excitedly, waving goodbye. “I’ll meet you two in our room later tonight!”

“Yeah, if you ever stop getting dicked by him,” Jennie laughed as Rosé rushed off.

It only took probably three minutes before Rosé had snuck off with the man.

“Why’re you so down?” Jennie asked casually. “We’re just fucking around, coming to one of these doesn’t actually make you a slut.”

Jisoo bit her lip, looking around the room, stirring the little plastic straw of her barely-touched drink.

“Hey, come on, it’s basically just a formality for you to be here,” Jennie continued. “You’re allowed to have some fun.”

“I don’t know if this is for me…” Jisoo mumbled. “I might just head back.”

“I told you, I’ll do that stuff for you, you just have to be in the room,” Jennie tried to reassure her while sending one of the waiters a silent message. “Please, stay.”

“Why are you even doing this for me?” Jisoo asked quietly. “You didn’t do it for the others.”

“Because those two are already huge sluts,” Jennie chuckled briefly before abruptly becoming serious. “I’m kidding!”

“So why, what makes me so special?” Jisoo demanded, putting the glass down, about to spill tears.

“I just… it’s not that big of a deal for me, and I want to help you out,” Jennie answered as the waiter approached the table with four shots of tequila. “Also I know they’ll never give you your solo if you don’t make an appearance.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Trust me Jisoo, I do,” Jennie sighed. “Rosie and Lisa were the same, at first they also didn’t believe me, and look how long they waited.”

“You don’t…”

“Jisoo, please, it hurts me knowing you’re the only one left,” Jennie begged, grabbing Jisoo’s hands and staring earnestly into her eyes. “You deserve this, one night and then you’ll get everything you deserve.”

“One night…” Jisoo whispered, a dead look penetrating deep within her pupils.

“It’s really not as bad as it sounds,” Jennie attempted to bargain. “It’s actually a lot of fun, and I’ll be the one actually doing everything. You literally just have to sit there and look pretty, at most you’ll strip down a bit.”

She nodded slowly, finally accepting her fate. Jennie, ecstatic as could be, quickly grabbed two of the shots and held one out to Jisoo. After staring at it, hesitating, she accepted the drink.

“To the final solo!” Jennie cheered, holding the glass up before the two of them downed the drinks simultaneously.

“I still hate tequila,” Jisoo shuddered, slamming the glass down on the table.

“Good thing I got us two each then.”

—

“Holy shit, why is your room so nice,” you marveled at the luxurious suite. “And how many people are staying in here?”

“Four of us,” Lisa mumbled as she made her way over to the minifridge, stumbling slightly. “What do you want… to drink…?”

“Whoa there Lisa,” you quickly ran up behind her, grabbing her by her armpits to hold her up. “I think maybe we slow down on the alcohol, just for a bit.”

The two of you had spent far too long drinking downstairs. You were finding out a lot about her, and the bond the two of you seemed to naturally have felt unreal. Never before has a girl had this type of effect on you, it felt like she might be something special. Despite talking for so long, there was still so much you didn’t know about her.

“Why!” she whined, putting all of her weight on your arms as she craned her neck to look up at you. “I’m not… drunk…”

“Right, not drunk,” you agreed with her as she slowly fell down to the ground, sitting there giggling.

“I’m not drunk!” she giggled while on her knees.

“Yeah, I got that, you’re not drunk.”

“You think I’m drunk, don’t you?” she asked, her voice suddenly becoming unexpectedly dispirited.

“No no, really, I believe you,” you lied, sitting on the edge of the bed. “Do you want to come on the bed for a bit?”

“No,” she replied softly. “Can we hold hands?”

“Uh, yeah of course,” you said, taking her outstretched hand in yours. It was odd, having her sitting on the floor next to the bed, but it was also somewhat wholesome in a way. “So, Lisa, are you a celebrity or something?”

“Do you really not know?” she asked slowly, as if each word required immense mindpower to get out. “I figured everyone knew.”

“I’m sorry-”

“I’m part of Blackpink!” she said cheerily, letting go of your hand turning to face you, sitting cross-legged. “Have you heard of us?”

“Oh umm, yeah I think I’ve heard of you guys.”

“Liar,” she laughed, leaning back on her hands.

“No really, that name sounds familiar!” you argued, racking your brain trying to remember.

“If you knew, you’d know.”

The name did sound familiar, but you couldn’t quite put your finger on it. It was mentioned by your boss, something about tonight?

“Can I suck your cock?”

Your train of thought immediately crashed; Surely you misheard her. There was no way she actually just said what you think she said.

“Sorry, what was that?”

She got up onto her knees and crawled towards you, reaching for your crotch.

“Whoa,” you quickly grabbed her hands. “What are you doing?”

“I want to suck your cock,” she said casually, trying to pull down your pants. “I’m really good at it, I promise.”

“I don’t think this is a good idea,” you hesitated, trying to hold her back.

“Why?” she snapped, suddenly extremely ferocious. “Do you still think I’m drunk?”

“No!” you lied again, trying to make sense of the situation you got yourself into.

“Am I not pretty enough?” she asked, her anger replaced by sorrow.

“No, that’s definitely not the issue.”

“I’m not drunk,” she pouted, looking like she was about to burst into tears.

“I’m not saying you’re drunk,” you attempted to cheer her up. “I’m just saying-”

“Let me suck your cock or else I’m going to find another man,” she growled, her eyes full of rage, but then just as quickly as she got angry she flipped the switch again and began smiling at you sweetly. “Please!”

This girl was insane, but she was so unbelievably cute that your tipsy self decided fuck it, might as well go with it. How could you refuse her when she was literally on her knees begging, and you were pretty sure she wasn’t making empty threats when she said she’d just find another cock to suck. Why should someone else get the pleasure anyway?

“Fine, if you really want to,” you sighed, as if you were doing her a favor.

“Oh please,” she scoffed, enthusiastically undoing your belt. “I can see how hard you are, stop playing games.”

“Of course I am, you’re fucking gorgeous,” you replied.

She looked up at you with her hands on your waistband. Her smile was so pure and precious, she was adorable, sitting there on her knees. That soft smile she flashed at you, it almost felt like you were falling for her in this moment - or perhaps you were more inebriated than you realized.

“Can you hold my hair?” she asked, snapping you out of the wholesome thoughts as she yanked down your pants.

“Sure- ahhh,” you cried quietly out as her mouth immediately plunged down your cock.

She wasted no time at all, within just seconds she was bobbing her head down your cock. There was no doubt in your mind that this girl had sucked a few cocks in her days, that much was painfully clear based on how she moved, and her experience just made it that much better for you. You quickly bunched her hair up in your fist, making sure you could clearly see her cute face as she thoroughly coated your shaft with her saliva.

“Holy shit Lisa,” you moaned softly. “You don’t mess around.”

No response, just continuous shoving of your cock down her throat. She started going deeper and deeper, you began to feel your tip poking against the tightness of her throat each time she plunged downwards. She was focused, extremely precise yet still sloppy - perhaps she wasn’t as drunk as you thought.

Most girls started slowly, maybe lick around a bit, a few kisses here and there. Lisa, however, was not like most girls. She was hungry, and apparently only your cock could feed that appetite. There was zero apprehension, she eagerly sucked your cock, her pretty little face completely stuffed, and she liked it.

“Does that feel good?” she asked as her lips flew off your cock, replaced by her hand. She stroked your length, spreading the saliva from her throat along your shaft as she shoved her face against your balls, licking them with all the passion in the world.

“Yeah Lisa, it feels good,” you moaned, closing your eyes. “Really fucking good.”

The touch of her hand disappeared from your shaft, as did her tongue from your balls. Then, suddenly, your cock was engulfed in a warm tightness. Your eyes shot open to see Lisa’s lips pressed against your crotch, your cock all the way down her tight little throat. She held her face there, staring up at you the entire time - apparently this girl didn’t know the meaning of gag reflex.

“Mmmmmphmmmph,” she moaned with her mouth stuffed full of your cock, her lips moving up and down your length slowly. She had absolutely no difficulty throating your whole cock, and she even seemed to enjoy it as she repeatedly brought her lips down all the way.

The back of her throat was opening up comfortably for you, offering very little resistance while it still squeezed your cock. You were throbbing. She was just so beautiful, her cute little face partially shielded by her bangs, that grip you had on her hair that made you feel in control - but let there be no mistake, she was in control.

Lisa had you under her spell, using her mouth to satisfy every need your mind and body could possibly have. She began bobbing up and down quickly, this time bringing one fist to the base of your cock to join her mouth’s movements. Her other hand firmly gripped your balls, but very gently rubbed them around. Her hand was so soft, her slender fingers massaging your cock from every angle.

“You’re going to make me cum,” you moaned softly, bringing your other hand up to her hair as well. With two hands grabbing her head, you could feel yourself nearing climax.

She wouldn’t let up. Knowing that you were about to come didn’t dissuade her at all, she continued to suck your cock with her exuberant passion. Lisa moved both of her hands onto your thighs, sitting up a bit more, and began throating your cock as fast as possible.

Her new leverage offered so much more control as she slammed her lips into your body with power, with burning passion. Each time her mouth bobbed down on your cock, you felt yourself get just a bit closer to the point of no return. She began to thrust her mouth hard, using a lot more power with each one, holding your cock down her throat for a moment each time she went down.

Grunting and moaning, you finally hit the wall. Those couple of seconds where you had hit your climax, right before your cock began unloading, those couple of seconds lasted an eternity. Time might have frozen entirely, not that you would have noticed. The warmth of her mouth around your cock felt divine, unreal, out of this world. Reality smacked you in the face just like that, your release began to fill her mouth.

Shot after shot of your cum flew down her throat, and she didn’t even flinch. You knew that you were filling her mouth just by feeling alone, but confirmation arrived swiftly as the white goo began to spill out of the sides of her lips. She didn’t care one bit as she held her mouth glued to your cock, even as your cum overflowed.

With a mouth full of your cum, she throated your cock a final few times, leaving the white mess all over your shaft, before removing you from her mouth. A hefty glob spilled before she could tilt her head back, mouth wide open to show you the white pool of your seed coating her tongue. She closed her mouth, gulped without any hesitation, and then smiled brightly at you.

“What the fuck Lisa,” you moaned, falling onto your back and staring at the roof. “You weren’t kidding.”

“Told you I was good at it,” she bragged before her tongue returned to your body, licking up any remnants of cum off your cock. “Your cum tastes so good.”

“I think I love you,” you moaned as her tongue poked at your tip, greedily trying to coerce some more out of your body, sending shivers up your spine.

“I get that a lot,” she giggled before standing up and laying down on top of you, her face on your chest. “Could a drunk girl really do that?”

“You’re not drunk,” you whispered absentmindedly, still recovering from the blowjob as you squeezed her butt.

“So, how long do you need before you are ready to fuck me?” she asked casually. “It’s only nine, the night is young.”

“It’s nine?” you gasped, quickly returning to your senses.

“Yeah, why?” she asked, her hand rubbing your thigh.

“Lisa, I hate to ruin the mood, but I have to leave,” you informed her remorsefully.

The rubbing ceased abruptly, but she refused to look up at you, letting only one word fill the room; That one word wasn’t one of anger, or frustration, but rather it was filled to the brim with heartbreak.

“Why?”

“They do this thing, a sort of hazing, I don’t really have a choice,” you explained. “It shouldn’t take too long, I can come right back after.”

“I just asked you to fuck me, and you’re leaving?”

“I know and I wish I didn’t have to, but I’d lose my job if I didn’t show up.”

“Am I not worth losing your job?”

“Lisa…”

“Forget it, I know how these things work, it’s not my first time at one of these parties,” she sighed.

“I really want to stay, but I just can’t,” you said with exasperation.

“That’s what they always say,” she said quietly. “I fall for it every time.”

“Fall for what?”

“All you guys are the same, coming here all dressed up pretending you want to get to know me and all that bullshit just to fuck me and leave,” she sniffled, failing to hide her emotions. “This is why I don’t bother getting invested.”

“It’s not like that,” you tried to explain.

“It’s fine, just go,” she snapped, rolling off and turning away from you. “There are a hundred men just like you downstairs who can fuck me instead.”

“Lisa, I promise I’ll come back,” you argued, reaching for her shoulder.

“What kind of hazing is this anyway?” she snapped again, her whole body jerking away at your touch. “What exactly do you have to do?”

“They didn’t give me details,” you answered carefully. “I promise I’ll come back after, if you let me.”

She turned around to face you again, her eyes welling up; She looked so incredibly vulnerable right now, full of emotion, and you felt terrible knowing you caused this. You never wanted to hurt this girl, she was adorable in the best of ways.

“Don’t make empty promises, you’re the first guy I’ve met at one of these who…” she muttered quietly. “As soon as you’re done, alright?”

“As soon as I’m done,” you repeated.

“I’ll be waiting here,” she continued. “I’m not heading back out there, I’m going to wait here. Waiting for you.”

“I’ll be back as soon as I can,” you whispered before hesitating.

You wanted to kiss her, she looked too cute, yet despite her sucking the life out of your cock just a few moments ago, you were being shy. Why did it take so much courage? You had no idea, but you mustered up that conviction and went for it, hoping for the best.

—

The club was just as rowdy now as it was when you were here with Lisa earlier. If anything, it was even more full of energy now as you went deeper into the night. You maneuvered around the edge of the room, noticing far more audacious activity going on in the booths. Not that it shocked you, these booths were reserved for the more prestigious members of the event.

After walking past a dozen or so blowjobs, some more subtle than others, you noticed the balcony your company reserved was full of people. You had access, and part of you wanted to see what was going on, but instead you focused on getting over with your little adventure - you wanted to return to Lisa as soon as possible.

It was as you continued making your way towards your meeting spot that you noticed what was happening on the balcony. There was a girl, she must have been popular because there was a literal crowd watching as a man picked her up. You only got flashes of what was going on through the mass of bodies, but you filled in the blanks as you saw two guys holding her up between them.

“Crazy shit right?”

You turned to see a man wearing half a mask sitting in a booth, watching you.

“Yeah, she must be someone special,” you replied casually, taking a seat in the booth. There were two other guys also at the booth who nodded at you as you sat, but they were very much preoccupied by two skimpily dressed girls. “Where are the masks?”

“She is, but we get to work with someone just as special,” the masked man said while handing you one of your own - a bunny mask. “Apparently earlier she was also there,” he continued while nodding at the balcony. “Guess one of the execs really wanted her for himself.”

“Yeah I don’t think she’s being very exclusive up there,” you commented as the bodies parted for a brief moment, giving you a view of the girl bent over getting spit roasted. “Kinda looks like it was her idea.”

“You’re probably right,” he laughed. “She’s definitely the biggest slut in the group.”

The group of you sat there for a bit, watching the scenes unfold around you. Random girls kept walking up to your booth, knowing that anyone with a booth would have some relevance. The masked guy you were talking to now also had a girl on his lap and another between his legs. You had been refusing every girl who offered to join you - Lisa was the only girl on your mind right now.

“Alright who’s next,” an extremely burly man asked while walking up to the table. “Looks like you’re new,” he added, looking at you.

“I’d go another round,” one of the other guys in the booth piped up.

“Get yourself another promotion and then you can join them up there,” the bodyguard laughed before turning to you. “Come on, I think you’re the last one.”

You stood up and followed him out of the club and down a hallway. There were a few other masked guys in the hallway which you walked past, knowing that they all had some level of power in their respective companies if they were here.

“She doesn’t look as enthusiastic as some of the others,” the bodyguard commented while walking you towards a door. “Did they explain how it works?”

“Not exactly,” you replied, your mind still preoccupied with Lisa.

“It’s just a facial,” he explained. “Touch her as much as she lets you, if you want to fuck her then you have to convince her yourself. Do whatever you want as long as she is fine with it. She is allowed to stop whenever she wants. If she says stop, listen to her.”

“Got it.”

“There’s a camera in there, take a picture of it after you’re done,” he continued, holding the doorknob. “Take as long as you want, go a couple of rounds if she lets you, just make sure you take at least one money shot picture, got it?”

“Yeah, got it,” you answered, Lisa finally slipping from your mind as the bodyguard began to open the door.

Immediately inside there was a little curtain which you walked through, just to be greeted with another one. Behind you, the bodyguard closed the door as you walked through the second curtain into a large, luxurious room. There were bookshelves up to the roof, a large table, a number of big couches, some nice chairs, but the middle of the room was where your attention went.

On a king size bed sat one of the prettiest girls you had ever seen in your life, wearing nothing but a pair of floral purple underwear. She was the type of girl who could have the whole room’s attention by just breathing. It was your job to coat her face in your cum, this would be an absolute dream come true if it weren’t for one little issue - she was crying.

“Excuse me,” you said softly, trying not to startle her.

“I’m sorry,” she sobbed, quickly turning away from you and furiously wiping her face. “I didn’t know you were ready.”

“Don’t apologize, take a second and then we can talk,” you said while walking over to the table and picking up the camera.

Your jaw dropped as you looked at the picture preview. There were at least nine pictures, unique pictures, of this girl with her face coated. Your heart sank, and you didn’t have it in you to scroll and see how many there were in total.

“Okay, I’m ready,” the girl sniffled, turning back to face you. “I’m really sorry about that, please don’t tell them.”

“I’m not going to say anything,” you tried to calm the frantic girl down. You carefully took a seat on the bed next to her, purposefully not staring at her almost-nude body. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” she stammered as she moved closer to you. “Is my hand fine or would you like me to use my mouth?”

“Are you sure you want to do this?” you asked nervously, unable to get past the image of what this beautiful girl had been through so far tonight.

“I have to do this!” she replied with a raised voice before immediately apologizing again. “Please, I didn’t mean it.”

“How about we first start with this,” you said while reaching up and grabbing one of the pillows from the top of the bed. You placed it on her lap, returning just a touch of her dignity. “What’s your name?”

She looked at you in pure astonishment, as if you were some kind of alien.

“Jisoo,” she muttered, her eyes still wide open.

“Tell me about yourself, Jisoo.”

“I’m…” she paused, her eyes twinkling in the dim light of the room. “I’m a singer.”

“And how does a singer end up in this kind of… situation?” you asked, trying to make sense of it all.

“I… volunteered,” she said quietly, her lower lip trembling in your periphery. You turned to look her directly in the eyes, those eyes which were quickly filling with tears when she suddenly started crying again. “It’s the only way,” she sobbed, burying her face in her hands.

“Jisoo, I’m not going to force you to do anything,” you said softly while patting her back. “It’s not too late to stop all of this.”

“I’ve come this far,” she muttered, wiping her eyes carefully with her fingers, trying not to further damage her makeup. “I can’t stop now.”

It was difficult for you, but you also knew how these things worked. If you refused to comply, she would most likely get blamed, revoking whatever rewards she was working towards. The rows of facials on the camera flashed before your eyes as you stared at her, you didn’t have it in you to be the reason she failed tonight.

“Alright,” you sighed. “Just the hand is fine.”

Her jaw dropped in shock - you immediately realized you were probably the first person tonight who refused the blowjob. That at least made you feel a little better, making you the best of the worst for this girl. She got over the surprise after a couple of seconds and wrapped her arms around your body, slowly tugging down your pants.

“You’re the first one,” she confirmed as you lifted yourself just enough for her to remove your pants. “Touch me as much as you want, just promise you’ll warn me before…”

“Of course,” you replied, keeping your hands off her.

Tenderly, she wrapped her fingers around your shaft. She moved slowly, painfully slowly at first, getting used to the details of your cock. With how the two of you were seated, you had a perfect view of Jisoo’s little cleavage, with a backdrop of her thighs.

“Do you like it faster or slower?” she whispered, lifting her face towards you while her hand pumped a bit quicker.

“Faster,” you replied, glancing at your cock to see her hand steadily stroking away.

It’s not that she was bad at it, but you could tell something was missing. She was nervous, apprehensive - almost as if she was scared to touch you. Making her comfortable became your goal, the question was just how?

“Stop me whenever,” you whispered softly into her face before placing your hand on her thigh.

Inch by inch, you moved up her leg, maintaining eye contact with her the entire time. Your gaze was deep, looking directly into the retinas of her gorgeous eyes as they sparkled, still slightly dewy from earlier. Your hand eventually made it right up to her purple panties where you paused.

Jisoo’s hand also briefly stopped pumping, but after a couple of blinks, fluttering of her eyes, she resumed her handjob, slower now. You slid your hand up some more, rubbing just above her nether region. Slowly, giving her every opportunity in the world to stop you, you slipped your fingers into her underwear.

She exhaled sharply out of her nose, her hand involuntarily pumping your cock faster, as your fingers made contact with her pussy. You moved your hand a bit lower until you had three fingers pressed against her clit. Your fingers began rubbing in a circular motion, pushing her to release a moan from time to time.

Her eyebrows began to angle upwards, those beautiful features of her face gently contorting in pleasure as you toyed with her. The faster you rubbed her, the faster her own hand moved, in a way giving you control over everything.

Your fingers began to steadily collect her liquids, lessening the friction of her body as you rubbed her pussy even faster. You could feel her breaths hitting your face now, her pretty winces, eyes shut tight. She was really getting into it.

Then you pressed a little bit lower down her body, two fingers rubbing up and down while your middle finger toyed with the idea of entering her pussy. She gasped, eyes shooting open as your finger teased her hole. Those deep breaths of hers turned into sharp grunts as your fingers touched her without regard.

You ran your middle finger over her entrance again before pulling your hand back up, returning to her clit - you had no intention of inserting. She looked relieved, or perhaps she was just overcome with pleasure, it was hard to tell anymore. One thing that was easy to tell, however, was how much wetter her pussy was now.

She was definitely getting close, and her grip on your cock began to falter. She was still trying her best, but it was clear her own pleasure was taking precedence over yours - which you were completely fine with. You rubbed circles around her clit some more, just like you did when you first started touching her, but this time you were far more aggressive.

Making her cum became your drive as she squirmed, panting and grunting. She was as close as she could physically be to her limit, it would just take a little bit more on your end. With her pussy flowing all over your fingers, you decided to keep your movements steady, not switching anything up anymore.

Her hand was barely holding onto your cock at this point, and stroking was a long forgotten act. You could physically feel her orgasm coming. Suddenly, it shot through her body, the initial waves forcing her into a frenzy of writhing as her thighs clamped down on your arm.

“Ahhhh,” she cried, her eyes wide open but not seeing anything.

She began to moan - loudly - as her body thrashed around on the bed. She came all over your fingers, her purple panties completely soiled. Crying out, her body jerked backwards, and she lay there with her back on the bed, slowly trying to control her breathing. You watched her chest heave up and down until eventually her legs relaxed enough to let you slip your hand out from between them.

“You’re the best,” she moaned, voice breathy, as you lay down on your side next to her. Her eyes were leaking, not from despair like earlier, but from pleasure. She took a couple of minutes to just recover until her breathing finally calmed down. “Now, let’s get back to what you’re here for.”

“If you insist,” you said with a smile as she climbed on top of your body.

“Can I use my mouth?” she asked softly.

“You don’t have to do that.”

“Please, out of all the men I’ve…” she said before pausing, the pain in her face showing for a second before she continued. “You’re the first one who I actually want… the first one who deserves it.”

With both of your hands, you held her face and kissed her passionately. At first she was hesitant - perhaps from the shock of your confidence - however, it wasn’t long before she accepted the kiss. Not only accepted it, but returned it. This level of passion should be impossible from such a short time together, yet for some reason Jisoo felt different. For some reason, you felt like you had known her for years, and kissing her just felt right.

“Forget all those other men,” you whispered into her face, holding your mouth right in front of her. “You did what you had to do, tonight doesn’t define you.”

“Then let me do things I shouldn’t do,” she whispered, running her fingers down your chest while sliding down between your legs.

After contemplating it for a second, you agreed, leaning back on the bed and pushing your crotch forward. She smiled bright, her eyes squinted again, it was extremely cute, but cute wouldn’t be an apt description of what was to follow as she moved her face over your lap.

Admittedly, she lacked the skill of Lisa, but Jisoo’s touch was so tender that it made up for her lack of experience; You had to ignore the sharp tinge of guilt you felt, thinking about Lisa, reminding yourself this was something you had to do for your career.

Jisoo wasn’t just trying to get you off; She was making love to your cock with her mouth. It wasn’t a lusty blowjob, it felt like she was your partner. Ridiculous, obviously, as you had just met her, yet for some reason she made you comfortable, just like Lisa did.

“That feels so good,” you moaned, reaching your hand onto her shoulder and massaging it gently while you placed a pillow below your head, making it easier to watch her work. “You deserve the best, Jisoo, you are the best.”

Her inner pride must have ignited because her lips began moving just a bit faster, pressing down just a bit harder, and her mouth became just a bit wetter. She must love the praise, you were probably the first man tonight to actually appreciate her efforts.

“You’re so fucking good at this,” you groaned softly. “The prettiest girl in this whole club, maybe in the whole world.”

Perhaps it was part of your imagination, but you could have sworn you saw the corners of her lips curl up in the most subtle smile possible - all that was allowed while you had your shaft in her mouth.

“There’s no face more perfect,” you whispered, pushing the few strands of her hair that fell forward behind her ear again. “The perfect canvas.”

She released your cock with a gasp, breathing heavily, staring seductively up at you.

“Cover my face,” she whispered as she jerked you off, her hand moving twice as fast as before. “Please cum on my face.”

The dichotomy of her pretty face and her filthy words drove you insane. A girl this pretty had no right begging to have her face coated in cum, her face was one for magazines and photoshoots, not one to be used as a target for your orgasm.

“You’re so fucking hot,” you moaned as she once again brought her mouth to your cock. “Just a bit more.”

No rest, no complaints, she put in the effort, and you body appreciated it. Getting sucked off was one thing, getting sucked off by a girl who wanted to was a whole different experience. Jisoo, falling into the latter category, felt phenomenal with her lips hugging your cock warmly.

Watching her orgasm earlier had primed your body, alongside the fact that one of the prettiest girls you have ever seen had your cock in her mouth, and you could feel yourself dangerously close. You had to remind yourself of your goal here as a fleeting thought flashed through your mind: If you finished in her mouth, you’d get another round with her.

Not to Jisoo, though, you simply did not have it in you. She was special, and the way she was sucking your cock made it seem like the feelings were mutual - or you were being delusional because you were about to cum. Either way, you reached down with your hands until she got the hint and grabbed on.

She locked eyes with you, her fingers intertwined with yours, her lips pouted on your cock, and her face bobbing up and down. A few strands of her hair blocked her gorgeous face partially, but she couldn’t look prettier if she tried. Your cock was heating up, about to release into her mouth, when you let go of her hands.

“I’m-” you moaned, luckily that was enough of a heads up for her.

Jisoo gave you a final few hefty pumps, squeezing your cock tightly with her lips, before pulling back. She slid down your body until she fell off the bed and onto her knees. You quickly picked yourself up, standing right in front of her.

Cock in hand, you brushed her hair out of her face and behind her ears, stroking yourself right in front of the unrealistically beautiful girl. She was looking up in anticipation, chin up, eyes ready to shut as soon as the first streak landed.

She did just that. After a violent recoil from the first gush of cum landing on her upper lip, she shut her eyes tight and held her face steady. It didn’t look like she particularly enjoyed it, but she remained fixed in front of your cock, accepting each and every pump of your cum onto her face. She was beautiful before, but having your seed plastered across her nose and lips made her look so much better.

With cum all over her mouth and nose, your final, less forceful, spurts dripped down onto her chin. She moved her face forward slightly, catching it all, not wanting to waste a drop. Once your cock stopped pulsing in your hand, you squeezed from your base, adding the remaining cum to the pool on her mouth.

“Camera,” she mumbled, holding her face up in an attempt to hold all the cum before it spilled.

You quickly rushed over, grabbing the camera and snapping a picture of her. After carefully placing the device aside, you crouched down next to her and put your hand on her back. For a few minutes the two of you simply sat there, taking in the events of what just happened. You met an unrealistically beautiful girl, and now she was sitting next to you with your cum plastered all over her face, dripping down onto her thighs.

“I don’t quite know what to say.”

“If you wanna be like the others, this is when you start begging to have sex with me,” she laughed, the pain in her voice sneaking through again.

“I’m really sorry you had to go through this,” you said, gently rubbing her back. “Is there anything else I can do to help?”

“No,” she answered softly. “Thank you, for being the most tolerable one tonight.”

“Thank you for…” you replied. “Yeah…”

It was a relief that she still had the ability to laugh after the events of the night, especially since her laugh was so endearing. You hoped she would succeed in achieving whatever goal she was pursuing given how diligently she worked tonight, it wouldn’t be fair to deny her now.

“Well, I should probably get going,” you said awkwardly. “There’s actually a girl waiting for me.”

“Girlfriend?”

“No, I met her tonight.”

You received a judgmental glance from Jisoo.

“She’s not that type of girl,” you defended yourself. “I really like her.”

“Then I hope you two have a lovely night,” she said with a chuckle while wiping her face on the bed sheets. “Sorry that you had to do this, maybe don’t tell her about it.”

“You, too,” you replied, leaning in for a hug. “I’m glad we met, even if the circumstances were a bit… weird.”

“Can I ask one thing before you go?”

“Anything.”

“Do you mind taking off the mask?” she said shyly. “I know you’re not supposed to, but-”

“Here,” you silenced her, lifting the half-mask up and smiling. “Now you know I’m a real person.”

“Oh there was no doubt about that,” Jisoo laughed. “Your cum felt very real.”

“I hope we meet again one day, under different circumstances,” you said finally before standing up.

“Me as well.”

After leaving the room, you met the guard from earlier in the hallway as well as two others.

“Just head back to the booth and sit tight while we check on her,” he instructed as two other men walked into the room.

“Sorry, but would it be possible for me to head out?” you asked, once again thinking about Lisa waiting for you.

“Not just yet, might need you for the finale,” he replied. “You definitely don’t want to miss that one, if you get picked you get a hefty reward.”

—

“My God she is such a slut.”

“Come on boys, why is my throat so empty?” Jennie asked the crowd of suited executives around her. “It’s almost like you don’t even want to fuck me.”

A rush of bodies began shuffling around, trying to get closer to her, begging to be picked - begging for a turn with her. Jennie knew there was a never-ending supply of cock for her to take, she just loved seeing how badly they wanted her. It turned her on like nothing else knowing these men would do anything to put their cocks inside her.

“No one? Are we done, then?” she teased as a few of the men stroked themselves in front of her nude body. She leaned back on the beanbag she was seated on, lifting her legs wide for everyone to see. “No one? I kinda want my asshole filled up again, can’t anyone do that for me?”

“Please Miss Jennie!” one of the men shouted, dropping to his knees in front of her with his head down.

Jennie pressed her foot against his forehead, pushing it upwards so that he was looking at her in the eyes.

“Are you going to fuck my little asshole?” she asked while sliding her foot around his mouth.

“Yes, Miss Jennie, if you’ll allow it,” the man begged as the crowd began laughing. Even though they were laughing, most of them were secretly wishing to be in his position right now, jealous that he had the nerve to act.

“But my little asshole is still so full of cum from the last person,” Jennie whined frivolously while turning around onto her hands and knees, looking back at the man over her shoulder while spreading her ass for him. “Can you at least clean it up first?”

The man didn’t hesitate for even a second before shoving his face between Jennie’s cheeks, not caring at all about how filthy the act truly was. The crowd was cheering, a few of the men were moving closer to Jennie in hopes that she would pick a couple more of them. They all knew Jennie was rarely satisfied with just one cock in her - at least that’s what the last hour or so would indicate.

They were right, Jennie beckoned for a few of the men who had their cocks out to move closer. She effortlessly took one in each hand, and a third into her mouth, all while the first man was still eating her ass out. Her face bobbed back and forth aggressively, random drops of cum from earlier falling off various bits of her body.

“Miss Jennie, you’re requested downstairs.”

Jennie released the cock from her mouth and turned to see a trio of bodyguards in front of the crowd.

“What happened?” she asked, still stroking the two cocks in her hands. “What’s so important that you’re ruining my fun?”

“Miss Jisoo is ready for part three, the finale.”

“Part three? I thought she was done already?” Jennie asked with her eyes wide open, her hands releasing the cocks. “What was part two?” she demanded, angrily pushing the man licking her asshole away as she stood up and grabbed her long coat.

“Facial train,” the bodyguard answered, motioning to one of the other guards to collect Jennie’s clothes before following Jennie as she hurried towards Jisoo’s room.

“She did a facial train?” Jennie gasped, speeding up her pace. “Why didn’t anyone tell me?”

“We thought you knew,” the bodyguard said, speeding up as well to keep up.

“No I didn’t fucking know!” Jennie screamed, basically running at this point.

She slammed the door behind her as she pushed past the man guarding the door to enter the room. Jisoo was inside, sharing a bed with a man.

—

“She chose you,” the bodyguard explained as you followed him back to Jisoo’s room. “She didn’t even hesitate, you were the only one she even considered.”

“What do I have to do now?” you asked while following.

“The instructions are written here,” he said while handing you an envelope. “I don’t think she knows yet, so you’ll be the one to tell her.”

“Thanks, I guess,” you said as you approached the door.

“Hey, you’re an insanely lucky man,” the bodyguard said, turning to you. “Ignoring the fact that you’re going to be fast-tracked for a promotion thanks to her picking you, you also get to be with one of the prettiest girls at this entire party. Do you have any idea how long the regulars have been waiting for her to finally come?”

“No, this is actually my first one as well,” you replied.

“First… you seriously are the luckiest son of a bitch in this whole building,” he laughed. “Alright, go treat her well, she obviously took some sort of liking to you.”

Hesitantly, you walked into the room, past the curtains where you found Jisoo sitting on one of the couches wearing a purple bathrobe. In her hand she held a little makeup kit, applying mascara to her bare, just-showered face.

“Hey,” you announced as you approached her.

“Hey,” she replied back, flashing you a very short smile, somewhat awkwardly. “I’m sorry, I know you said you had a girl waiting, but when they asked me… I didn’t know who else…”

“It’s fine,” you quickly said while rushing to her side as soon as you noticed she was about to break down again. “Don’t worry about that, let’s just get you through this, alright?”

She looked up at you and smiled warmly, her eyes leaking down her cheeks. You reached up with your sleeve and wiped her face before holding up the envelope.

“Do you want to read it together?”

“Read it to me,” she said quietly. “If you don’t mind.”

“Absolutely,” you said softly while taking a seat next to her and opening the envelope. “Dear Miss Jisoo, if you’ve made it this far that means you have done an amazing job. You’re almost done now, there’s only one final request if you would be so kind to cooperate. You’ve surely already picked your favorite participant from part two by now, and for part three you and your chosen will…”

“Will what?” Jisoo asked as you paused. “What does it say?”

“You and your chosen will also be recording a…” you hesitated again. “Jisoo, remember you can stop this at any time, you do not have to go through with it.”

“Recording a what?” she demanded despite already knowing the answer, tears forming in her eyes again.

“Furthermore, if your chosen is unable to produce a video up to our standard, we will provide a replacement. You have our sincerest assurance that the video will never leak, it will be exclusively for company use,” you quickly finished the letter, skipping the line.

“They’re all going to watch me get…” Jisoo’s voice faltered.

“We don’t have to do this,” you replied, empathy filling every fiber of your being. “I’ll be here for you, I’ll support whatever decision you make.”

“You’ll also get a huge promotion for doing this,” she mumbled, her eyes glued to the floor.

“Forget about what I get, this is about you.”

She looked up at you with a face full of emotion - appreciation, maybe?

“I’ve never…” she whispered, nervousness dripping out of each syllable. “It would be my first time.”

“Jisoo,” you whispered back, taking her hands into yours. “It’s entirely your call, take as much time as you want to think about it.”

“I know we just met,” she said quietly after a moment of contemplation. “But if it had to be with someone…”

She waited, thinking about it some more, and you sat patiently, holding her hands still. They weren’t shaking anymore, she even seemed calm.

“I’ll only do it if you’re one hundred percent sure,” you said firmly. “The only thing that matters is what you want to do.”

Before she could answer, the door shot open and another girl ran through the curtain.

“Jisoo I’m so sorry!” she screamed, running up to the bed and flinging herself into Jisoo’s body. “I had no idea, please please please forgive me.”

Jisoo said nothing, she didn’t even move. No reaction at all to the girl hugging her, not until she let go and a single tear slid down her cheek.

“Jisoo please, say something, I’m sorry!” the girl begged to no avail before turning to you with a sour expression. “Who are you? Did you also join in-”

“Do not attack him,” Jisoo scowled, finally speaking up. “He was here for me when you weren’t.”

“I said I’m sorry!”

“Sorry doesn’t undo what I went through tonight,” Jisoo replied coldly. “This was your idea, I never wanted to do any of this, yet somehow I’m the one who had guy after guy paint my face with their cum.”

“Jisoo…”

“And what were you doing?” Jisoo screamed. “Queen Jennie was too busy getting fucked by the whole club. The Queen of dick doing what she does best, but she still just couldn’t keep her promise.”

“Please,” Jennie pleaded, dropping to her knees in front of Jisoo. “Tell me how I can fix this.”

“You tell me,” Jisoo hissed. “For the finale I’m going to lose my virginity in front of an audience, and it’s going to be recorded. You tell me how you can fix this.”

“Let me talk to them,” Jennie begged. “I’ll convince them to let me make the video instead.”

“Ahem,” you cleared your throat. “Maybe it’s best if the two of you figure this out without me.”

The two girls turned to you in shock, it was like they completely forgot you were also there.

“You can’t leave,” Jennie said dismissively, barely even shooting you a glance.

“I’m sorry,” Jisoo apologized a bit more empathetically. “If you leave, it looks bad on me.”

“Uh,” you hesitated. “I don’t have much of a choice, do I?”

Jennie turned away from Jisoo to face you. She looked you up and down with her arms crossed before sighing heavily and tossing off her long coat, exposing her completely nude body underneath.

“Stop pretending you’d pass on this,” Jennie said with an eyeroll.

It suddenly dawned on you, this was the girl from the balcony earlier. The girl getting gangbanged right in front of everyone.

“Why are you just staring,” Jennie snarled before grabbing your hand and placing it between her legs. “Can you fuck this pussy or not.”

“Jennie stop,” Jisoo shouted, her eyes full of a focused rage. “I like him, don’t treat him like one of your fucktoys.”

Jennie let go of your hand and turned sideways to face Jisoo again. The curves of her body right in front of you as she casually stood there in the nude, facing sideways. You won’t lie, in a purely physical way, she was definitely fuckable.

“Fine, then you talk to your boyfriend,” she complained. “Or better yet, you can just fuck him.”

“He’s not my boyfriend,” Jisoo retaliated angrily.

“Then stop acting like he’s interested in more than shoving his cock in you,” Jennie snorted. “I bet he also made you use your mouth, just like all the-” Jennie’s train of thought was abruptly interrupted as the loud crack of your palm slapping against her bare ass echoed throughout the room.

“What the fuck?” she turned to you again, her jaw dropped in utter shock.

“Yeah I’ll make this video with you,” you said while standing up. “Let’s go talk to them about it.”

After taking a couple of steps towards the door, you stopped and turned around to see Jennie still standing there like a statue, stuck in place.

“Coming little slut?” you asked. “Let’s get this over with so you can go back to taking four cocks at once.”

Jisoo tried, unsuccessfully, to stifle her giggle, earning her a sharp glare from Jennie. When she turned back to you, her eyes were full of fire, she was still unable to believe someone would treat her like this. Odd, considering her actions earlier, you thought as you walked back in front of her.

“Who the fuck do you think you are, talking to me like this?” she hissed into your face.

“I’ll talk to you however I want,” you replied, not taking your eyes off hers for even a moment as you shoved your hand between her legs. “If you’re going to act like a little slut, I’m going to treat you like a little slut.”

“I’m still…” her voice trailed off as an unsolicited moan escaped her lips in response to your two fingers jamming up her pussy.

“Still a little slut?” you mocked her, forcefully groping her tits with your free hand. “You’ve started leaking, does the little slut like being called a little slut?”

“Fuck you,” she said with a crack in her voice that made her cheeks glow pink. She shoved your hand away and stormed off towards her discarded coat as you released a puff of air from your nose. “Shut the fuck up,” she added while stomping towards the door.

“I’ll be right back,” you whispered to Jisoo who was smiling at you, tremendously amused by how you were treating Jennie.

---

Part 2

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