#doe suede bodies

[blujayonthewing]

how much of 'that armor I made and did a really fucking good job on looks bad on me' is because of the fabric's structure and how much effort and money am I willing to spend making a new set to find out

#Elyss has behirskin armor now... kinda want it..... 👀 #the TROUBLE IS that I am fat and Elyss is not so it's genuinely hard for me to gauge whether it's #'this looks bad because it doesn't suit my body type as well as it does hers' #vs 'this looks bad because I can't help comparing how much I Don't Look Like this character actually' #vs 'this looks bad because faux suede on a heavy twill base still isn't rigid enough for what you were going for' #if I did something like a faux snakeskin or crocodile vinyl leather armor with more structure... would that work better..... HMM #anyway this isn't the first time I've thought about this but a) it's youma season so fb memories has me Yearning #and b) cool friend finished their cool OC cosplay and it's fuckin amazing but IT TOO HAS ME YEARNING!!! #I could cosplay as Aubree really easily but her outfit is so Just A Guy that it doesn't feel that much fun kfdjhdf #and NYSSA.... is significantly bustier than I am :'D sfdjhgdhjd not that that means I DON'T wanna also do a satyr costume anyway #but I'd have to adjust her wardrobe cause it's a bit you know revealing and I simply do not have anything to reveal kfjghdf #about me #my OCs #elyss

[chososdiscordkitten]

Are You A Chick?!

artist: @kcokaine_ on twt

Synopsis: Gojo gets turned into a woman for a few hrs and reader nd him get down to fun activities ^-^

Pairing: Fem!Gojo x Fem!Reader Content: established relationship, unexplained gender bending, GOJUSSY :D , wlw, use of his/her regarding gojo, fingering (f gojo receiving), oral (f gojo receiving), squirting (gojo), SCISSORING🤩✂️, dirty talk, god I love women

MDNI

You were lying on your shared bed, bored, scrolling on your phone, waiting for your boyfriend to come home from work. You were about to call him to ask why he was so late. Only you heard the front door of your apartment opening- bolting off the bed to greet him at the door. 

Halting your steps when you saw a smaller version of Satoru standing in the kitchen. 

Wearing the now oversized clothes you saw Satoru leave the apartment in that morning. You squint your eyes, scanning his face and noticing it was much softer. 

His jawline not half as sharp, poutier lips and a smaller nose- his face looked so similar, only it had a more feminine look to it. His eyes were the only thing that stayed the same- big and adorned with thick white lashes.  

“Don’t say a word.” Satoru spoke- his voice a higher pitch and with a suede purr. 

You furrowed your eyebrows, seeing Satoru reach out a much smaller hand than you expected- “Are you a chick?” you parted your lips- amused at how the blush started to rise on your boyfriend’s cheeks. 

Satoru huffed- a bitchy sigh with his hip popped slightly. “It’ll only last for a few hours.” you huffed- entertained at the feminine voice Gojo spoke in. 

Though he was usually taller and broader, his clothes were too large for his now more petite frame. 

You darted your eyes down to her chest- Small pebbles peaked beneath Gojo’s tshirt, his small breasts forming two tents beneath the fabric. Widening your eyes and realizing that this was real. 

“Can I touch them?” you asked, the corners of your lip curled up- thinking about how sensitive Satoru was generally. You wanted to discover how sensitive your boyfriend was in a woman’s body. 

Satoru scoffed- sounding just like you’d expect him to as a woman, bitchy and bordering on a bimbo tone. 

Your boyfriend shook off the oversized jacket- showing you just how much smaller he was now. 

Gojo furrowed his eyebrows- small and effortlessly perfect, pushing out her tits and looking at you with a pouty glossed lip. 

You reached your hands out eager to feel your boyfriends breasts. “Should I be concerned that the first thing you wanna do when I get home is feel me up?” Gojo laughed- a soft giggle coming from her throat. 

Scoffing as you placed your hands beneath Gojo’s braless tits, “If I came home the opposite gender- what would the first thing you do be?” you scoffed, Parting your lips and grabbing what you could from her chest.

Perky and no bigger than an A cup. But her tits filled your palms perfectly. 

Your thumb took an exploratory swipe at the little bud formed beneath the t-shirt. Earning a light, pretty huff from Satoru’s lips, flashing your eyes back up at him with a glimmer circling your pupil. 

You raised your eyebrows- a greedy smile forming on your lips at all the thoughts that raced through your mind. “Can I fuck you?” You grinned, watching the blush on Satoru’s cheeks deepen. 

It took very little for Gojo’s lips to snap to yours- feeling the petite woman before you trying to take the reins from your hands- but all it took was one little grope at her ass to make Gojo compliant. 

Guiding Satoru back into your bedroom with your hands roaming beneath the hem of his shirt- grasping at the soft skin beneath the fabric with pretty whimpers falling from her lips onto yours. 

Pulling away from Satoru’s lips when you settled him to sit on the edge of the bed. 

Her lips pulled to the side, a soft ‘tsk’ leaving them as Satoru looked up at you. “Why does it feel like you’re more into this than normal?” Your gender-bent boyfriend bitched at you as you slipped off your shirt. 

Placing your hands onto the sides of Satoru’s chunky cheeks, pressing soft kisses onto the puffy lips of her face and guiding her to scooch up the bed. 

You grinned, placing your hands on the edge of Gojo’s shirt. “What does it feel like?” changing the conversation as you pulled Satoru’s shirt off his body. Hanging your mouth open and seeing the sight before you. 

Not in a million years could you picture the portrait that was painted before you. 

Satoru’s bottom lip pouted, a roaming blush forming on her chest and pink hardened nipples greeting you. 

“Feels like I’m gettin’ pawed at.” Satoru scoffed, pressing her lips back onto yours and feeling your hands rest on his hips, dipping your fingers beneath the band of the oversized sweats and rolling them off. Feeling Satoru’s hands mimic the movement on your own bottoms. 

Only this time- compared to the hundreds of others, Satoru’s hands had a soft, delicate touch. 

Satoru had you pinned as he naturally did, on your back and your legs spread with her hips resting between them. Satoru tugged your bottoms off as his delicate lips moved against yours. 

Feeling Gojo do the same, leaving him bare and waiting for something to happen- trying to recall what he usually does whenever he isn’t a woman- trailing his smaller hands from your side to your inner thigh. 

You scoffed- “This isn’t about me ‘toru.” you smiled, pulling his hands from your thigh and intertwining your fingers with her slim ones. Looking at the soft expression your boyfriends feminized face held. 

“You don’t wanna know what it feels like for me?” you grinned, trailing the tips of your fingers against her rib cage- causing a shuddering exhale to leave his lips. 

Satoru bit her lip, feeling the warmth between her legs twitch from your offer. 

You trailed your hand between her thighs, reaching the drenched center Satoru had ignored between his legs till now. 

Watching her mouth inhale sharply, batting his white eyelashes closed as you lightly traced your middle and ring finger against her core. 

It took very little for Gojo to straddle your thighs, leaning an arm back and planting it on your calf. Giving you an unobstructed view of your boyfriends pretty, glistening cunt. 

As pretty and leaky as his cock was- this gave you a different kind of shiver down your spine from how fucking gorgeous he looked right now. 

Your hands rubbing softly on Satoru’s thighs, looking up to her shy expression. 

Satoru was a talker typically- teasing and being able to act on his horny threats just to make you blush. But now Satoru held her tongue, shy eyes avoiding your gaze. And squirming at the light grips you’d make against his thighs. 

And when her hips had ground down- instinctively as though you had cock for him. 

Or when your hands finally reached his pale inner thighs- you swore you could hear a slight shudder take the shape of a whimper leave Gojo’s throat. The prettiest sound you had yet to hear from him. 

He would let out pretty sounds generally, but this- this was something different. More defined, and less throaty. Almost as angelic as the pretty white lashes fanning over Satoru’s blushing cheeks. 

His hand urging you with a light squeeze at your thigh. When you finally traced the pad of your thumb against the little glistening pearl that you had neglected for what felt like an eternity to Satoru;

As though it was unwillingly, tossing her head back with a nibbled lip. Even the curve of her neck was fucking pretty. 

Dissolving into the feeling of your gentle thumb against his clit. His grip against your thigh turned to a squeeze with urge as you made more teasing circles against him with a hand on his pale thigh. 

Between a breathy moan, Satoru looked back to you- “It’s unfair that you get to feel this all the time.” she huffed as you applied a little more pressure to the sensitive nub. 

“Just wait till I make you cum-” you huffed with a smile, watching Satoru’s effeminate face churn with pinched eyebrows at your words. 

You raised your hand from his thigh- placing it flat, right where his womb would be. “Do you feel it building right here?” you asked in a murmur, looking up at your pretty boyfriend with amazed eyes. 

Satoru only nodded quickly- her plush lip tucked between pearly teeth and eyes closed. Your thumb making hastier circles and watching Satoru’s chest heave with eyes full of wonder.

Your hand traced to her bent hip, lightly squeezing at the malleable skin and watching the face Satoru made as you drew an orgasm out of her. The tips of your ring and middle finger circling at the taut entrance that seeped nectar. 

Satoru gasped when the pad of your thumb caught the very tip of his clit. Snapping one of his slender hands onto your shoulder as a brace. And your lips being right at the level of his perky tits- your lips parted and latched onto the puffy pink nipple on her chest. 

The whimpers that left Gojo’s throat were far too genuine- knowing how unashamed he was about them normally, the ones he let out now would be equally as unashamed.

Satoru’s lips parted in a small ‘o’- stuttering over every other moan as your thumb rubbed harsher circles against him. Your tongue lapped at the pebble of her nipple, sucking harshly to draw more pretty sounds from her lips. 

Gojo tried- she tried warning that they were cumming. As though some kind of mess would spew from him as it usually did. Only your hands didn’t care- neither did your relentless lips. 

With a choked moan- Satoru held his breath. His cunt clenching around nothing as the tips of your fingers felt the twitching his entrance made- as though she was trying to suck them in. 

Your eyes looked up at the pretty sight before you- parting your lips and throwing your head back. Watching with amazed eyes at the pale, shuddering shoulders that were graced with light goosebumps. 

Satoru’s eyebrows were lightly pinched, and her puffy lips parted- finally releasing the air trapped in his lungs with a pretty moan. 

Giving him a few seconds to shake off the aftershocks of his very first orgasm as a woman. Satoru trailed her hands to the side of your head, caressing gently and looking down with a peaked corner at her lip. 

“So unfair-” he whispered, leaning down and pressing a lazy kiss onto your lips as his hips ground down to your fingers. Your thumb made little to no movements as Satoru’s hips urged your fingers to press inside. 

And as bitchy and needy as he was as a man- You knew not to deny Satoru this now. 

Isolating your middle finger and pressing against Satoru’s soaked, taut entrance- a whimper between a breath leaving his throat and rumbling onto your lips. Lightly curling your finger until you hit a little nudge inside him. 

The little prod making Satoru pull away from you with a soft whine. Both of his hands now on your neck and arm- trying to find soothing in whatever his hands could grip. 

“More,” Satoru whimpered into the air between you- a high pitched upturn ending her plea. Your lips latched onto hers- drawing your finger from her soft walls and pressing it to the neighboring finger. 

Lazily kissing at the corner of her mouth, trailing kisses down to Satoru’s softer jaw. Pressing both of your fingers past her entrance- “So tight-” you murmured, feeling resistance from her walls as her hands gripped harder. 

Clearer whimpers and moans, leaving her throat at the light sting, your lips kissing down her neck- trying to find the sweet spot Satoru always allowed you to exploit. 

And when the tips of both of your fingers reached that same spot from earlier, the moan that left Satoru’s lips bordered on guttural- a high-pitched inhale followed as your lips found the sensitive spot of her neck. 

Suckling at the pale skin as your palm pressed flush against her clit. Satoru’s eyes fluttered shut as his hips started moving back and forth. Unashamedly rutting his cunt against the arch of your palm as your fingers lightly bumped into her gspot. 

Your lips formed a smile against Gojo’s skin- grateful of how pretty she sounded, almost like a hymn to your ears. Even more with the light squelches of his cunt frotting against your hand. 

Reaching your hand up her ribcage that flared with every sharp inhale she made. Lightly cupping her breast with a teasing thumb on the hardened nipple. 

It was too much for Satoru- overstimulating himself as his hips moved without instruction from his brain. The tingle of Satoru’s own gluttony formed in his spine as your thumb took a few soft swipes at his nipple. 

“M’gonna cum again-” she whimpered, as though it was you moving her hips against your palm. You pulled your lips from her collarbone with a smile. 

“Go ahead.” you instructed, tone far too deep and overindulgent as Gojo’s hips moved quicker- frotting her leaking cunt against you with a whimper. 

It was as though the pearly gates of heaven opened for Satoru as he felt another orgasm wave over her petite shoulders, his cunt clenching around your fingers. Barely able to keep his posture as she rode herself down- greedy hums leaving Satoru’s lips as you kissed at her chest. 

Using the hand on her hip to guide her to keel onto her side- landing on the bed with a pleased smile. Rolling onto her back as your lips planted gentle kisses on her sternum. 

Soft hums leave his lips as your hands spread his thighs. Tilting her head to the side and watching your shoulders rest between her flawless thighs. Placing a hand to the top of your head as your lips kissed at her thighs. 

“You’re so greedy~” Satoru hummed as your lips dampened small circles on her thighs- close to her glistening cunt, but still so fucking far. 

You let out a soft laugh, “I’m greedy?” softly caressing his outer thighs as she nodded against the pillows. Excitement reeling behind her cerulean eyes- so eager to know what it feels like to receive head as a woman. 

And as though her hand was urging you to finally kiss somewhere other than her thighs- you made a light lick from her perfectly displayed cunt up to her clit with a shuddering sigh leaving her lips. A groan left your lips at her flavor- as sweet as you expected her to taste. 

Your hands held Satoru’s hips, keeping them spread with her feet planted harshly against the bed. Your tongue made a few more kitten licks at her clit- hearing the desperation in every whimper that left her lips. 

Taking one of your hands and aligning it with her entrance again- right below your chin and slowly pushing them in. Your lips connect with the base of her clit with your tongue lightly swirling against the puffy nub. 

Your fingers moving with ease now- his cumt stretched just enough for you to start pumping your fingers. Satoru swore that his eyes would cross had he held them open- so he closed them. 

Thralling his head back into the pillows with a throaty moan- the hand on his hip moving up her side- gripping at Satoru’s breast with a light squeeze. 

Gojo’s back arching against the bed as your fingers prodded against her gspot. The whispers of overstimulation roaming up her spine once more as she felt another orgasm build in her womb. 

Only this time it felt different- His moans far too loud as your tongue made relentless swirls against her clit- your fingers bumping into her gspot at the perfect angle. 

“Wait-” Satoru inhaled sharply, his hips bucking up into your mouth as the knot in her tummy tightened. Nodding her head quickly as she fisted the sheets- knuckles turning white from how hard she was gripping. 

You looked up at Gojo, furrowed eyebrows and parted lips greeting you as Satoru whimpered. Threats of ‘I’m gonna—’ left her lips as you continued the mean movements. 

Satoru sat up slightly with a groan- your palm filling with spurts of liquid as your fingers continued. 

Loud mewls leaving Gojo’s throat as your mouth refused to stop- making sure to drain Satoru as the sides of your face became drenched with his squirt. 

“J-jesus fucking chri-” she called out in an exhale- her hips stuttering against your lips as you slowed your fingers. 

And when you finally got your fill, Satoru’s hands cupped the sides of your face and pulled you back up to him. A light moan vibrating onto your lips as she kissed you. Tasting her own slick and essence on your lips with every swipe her tongue made against yours.

Your hands groping at her thighs as Satoru pulled away from your lips- looking into your eyes with urgency. 

“Fuck me baby, please-” She whimpered into the air, desperately needing to feel you. In any way she could. 

You pressed your lips onto hers again, feeling her hand roam down to your bottom and give you a squeeze, the other cupping at your breast- noting that even as a woman, Satoru had wandering hands. 

In the split second after Satoru begged you to fuck her- you thought to the how. No strap- no toys at your disposal- but then you thought of the closest thing. 

Rolling over with Satoru in your hands- leaving you on your back with one of Satoru’s knees planted beneath your thigh. The other straddled atop your other leg.

Completely tangled between limbs as you pulled your lips from hers- Your bare cunt and his threatening to touch as she looked at you with curious eyes. 

You placed your hands onto her hips, looking into her bleary, cerulean eyes and guiding her down. A little whimper leaves your lips at the sudden contact of her cunt against yours. 

It took very little for Satoru to get the hint- planting her hands onto your sides and straightening her back. 

Taking a small nibble at her lip at the feeling of your clits bumping against each other. Looking down and watching at the small grinds he made- a small giggle laced with a moan leaving her lips. “Ffffuck, It’s like we’re kissing~” she grinned, causing you to let out a small laugh with an eye roll. 

Satoru reached for the back of your thigh with one hand, pinning it up slightly to give her a better access and a better view. 

Gojo tried starting at a slow pace- but the warmth radiating from your cunt onto his was undeniably tantalizing. 

Small moans fell from her lips as she started making unpatterned, sloppy thrusts against you. Uncaring if it wasn’t right- only that it felt good when his clit would bump against yours and the mixing slick of both your cunts making the filthiest shlops and squelches made him even more wet.

Her tits bounced with every desperate thrust she made against you, your hands holding a bruising grip at her pale hips, following every grind she would make against you. 

And when Satoru’s thighs started burning from the frantic movements- your hands led her hips into the frotting. Through gritted teeth- “Right here ‘toru-” you mumbled, Satoru taking over for your hands and humping against that very spot. 

Her face churned with pure, undiscovered pleasure as the mixed slick made it easier to glide against you. 

Shared moans reverberated off the walls before Satoru leaned down to connect her lips with yours, her breasts pressing against yours harshly. Keeping the same quick pace against your linked cunts. 

His tongue slotting against yours sloppily as moans rumbled against each other- hands gripping at anything they could find with his clit grinding against your own neglected one. Building your own orgasm as you hummed against Gojo’s lips.

One of your hands on her plump ass- gripping harshly with the other on her hip- and Satoru’s were gripping for dear life at your plush thighs- working himself through the overstimulation with soft groans against your lips. 

Splitting the kiss with a loud whimper- desperate hips rutting against you at an unbelievable pace as you felt the knot in your tummy threaten to come undone- “I’m cummin-” she whimpered before pressing her lips back onto yours. 

Your eyes tightened as Satoru worked you past an orgasm, back arching against the bed as Satoru crossed the finish line with you. Squirting whatever was left inside of her against your cunt. 

Huffing heavily through her nose as her hips slowed- Satoru’s grip on your thighs loosening as she felt the aftershocks roll through her shoulders. 

Easing your thigh down and feeling Gojo rest her body weight atop yours- just like he did when he was a man. Her lips sloppily moved against yours before pulling away- hazy eyes and pressing her chest further into yours with a pout. 

Your hands raised from her ass and rested on the soft skin of her back. Satoru raised her shoulders and looked into your eyes- almost troubled.

“What is it?” you mumbled, touching her cheek and caressing it softly with your thumb. Watching the pout deepen before parting his lips. 

Her breasts pressed against yours- “How do you know what to do with another girl?” Satoru pouted in a sad tone. You smiled softly, nodding your head and resting back into the pillows. 

“I did a lot of experimenting in college.” you hummed, Satoru following you and rubbing her nipples against yours unknowingly. 

Your eyes flashed down to your connected chests- “You’ll still like me when I become- me again, right?” She spoke softly- shy and stark in comparison to how he usually was. 

You pinched your eyebrows- “Course I will ‘toru-” pressing a soft kiss to her lips, “I can’t wait till you're back to normal.” you mumbled. Looking at the blush on Satoru’s cheeks deepen at your declaration. 

Satoru let out a dreamy sigh, squinting and looking down to where your eyes kept flashing. “S’like we’re kissing.” you smiled with a mumble, a small giggle leaving Satoru’s lips. 

She sighed, leaning her head back down to your shoulder, “Dunno how you get anything done if that’s what it feels like every time.” Satoru mumbled, closing her eyes and placing a hand on the side of your face. 

A half-laugh left your throat, “I would be all over you 24/7 if I was a chick.” he hummed, legs tangled against each other as your hand rubbed small circles at her back. 

“God knew not to make you a woman, you’d cause too much trouble,” you murmured, hearing a half conscious hum leave Satoru’s lips as she drifted to sleep atop you. 

That night you fell asleep with your girlfriend in your arms- soft, dainty and bare in your hands. Breathing softly with a feminine tinge in every exhale she made. 

And you woke up with your broad, far too heavy boyfriend in your arms. His exhales taking their usual throaty tone when he breathed them against your skin.  

Either or- it was still your Satoru. No matter what form he took, he was still yours. 

-

(a.n) this was so hot, I love woman, and gojussy. by the time you're reading this, ill be watching a medieval tournament👍🏽

#jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #gojo smut #jjk x reader #jjk x y/n #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo x reader #gojo satoru #gojo satoru smut #gojo satoru x reader #gojou x reader #gojo saturo #gojou satoru x reader #satoru gojo #jjk gojo #jujutsu gojo #gojo x you #gojo x y/n #gojo satoru fic #jjk satoru #jujutsu kaisen satoru #satoru smut #satorugojo #jujutsu satoru #gojou satoru x you #gojou satoru x y/n #satoru #jjk #gojo x chubby reader #fem!gojo

[norrizzandpia]

hey 🧡 could you please do one with lando where you two just have that very special connection. you’re dating for years already and just became each others home / safe place and everyone around you can see? x

The words of this request are so cute like i love it

Also i ended up merging this with the ski trip 🤭 and a proposal bc what other way to best depict two people being incredibly in love than a proposal?? 😍 (i just want to marry Lando Norris)

Ski Trips and Smiles (LN4)

Summary: Lando and Y/n had been planning this ski trip with their friends for months, so she knows everything on the itinerary. Well, at least, she thinks she does.

Warnings: language, yn falling into snow, yn not being able to snowboard, sexual references, slight smut, they get interrupted tho, max being a weepy baby

Note: the one time im in a marriage mood bc i watched the bachelorette

Lando’s hand shook slightly as it rested in his pocket, clutching the black suede box that he had quadruple-checked was with him before they left the house. He didn’t know what he was doing, crazed and manic in love with the woman beside him. She was asleep, head on his shoulder as the plane moved along, quiet and tranquil because of its privacy.

Max sat across from him, eyeing his best friend as droplets of sweat began to form at the top of his head.

“You okay?” He whispered, gaze shifting to the girl beside Lando, the girl who had been in their lives for six years.

Lando nodded, albeit hesitantly, “Yeah, fine.”

Max’s eyebrows furrowed together, “Really? Because the sweat stains on your shirt say otherwise. It’s like sixty degrees in here, mate.”

The Brit’s eyes shifted to catch his shirt, the material soaked through around his chest and armpits. His eyes widened, “Oh shit. Fuck. How do I fix this? She’ll know something’s up.”

Max shook his head with a teasing smile on his face, “Don’t say anything, but I figured this would happen. I packed some quadrant shirts from the new line in my backpack for you. I can get one right now if you want?”

Lando breathed a sigh of relief, “Max, holy shit, thank you. Thank you. But, no. I’ll wait a few hours. Until it gets closer to her waking up. I don’t want to sweat through the new ones too.”

Max hummed in agreement, letting silence take the moment once more.

However, the boy felt sympathy for Lando, the nervousness that was clearly wracking his body at the impending ask, so he tried to reassure him, “Lando, you have got to chill, mate. It’s going to be fine. She’s going to say yes.”

Lando’s frantic eyes bounced around, “But, what if she doesn’t? What if I’ve built this all up in my head and she actually doesn’t want to marry me. I’d rather be her boyfriend for the rest of my life than take a chance and ask her to be my wife and have her leave me.”

Max chuckled, “Sometimes, I wish you could see yourself in other people’s eyes. You’d take one look at yourself right now and immediately talk about how outrageous and ridiculous you sound. You two have been together for six years, Lando. Six years. Let that sink in. Six birthdays, six Christmases, a multitude of times she’s been there for you, 130 Grand Prix, an overwhelming amount of time spent building you back up after racing took you down. She’s been a constant. You know that, Lando. You’ve lived through it. This is just making all that permanent.”

Lando moved his head to stare at her sleeping face, her closed eyes and slowly rising chest making his heart fill with a specific kind of love he had only ever felt for her, and smiled softly, “Maybe you’re right.”

“Of course, I am.” Max gave, laughing airily.

Lando’s hand came to cradle her head, nudging it toward his mouth so he could plant his lips in her hair, whispering, “Maybe you’ll be right.”

—

Her laughing could be heard in the distance as Lando continued to ski toward her. Her head was face planted in the snow, hands messily placed beside her with her foot shoved in the snow, and, even with all the cold she was most likely feeling, the contagious sound filtered through the air and imprinted itself under Lando’s skin. Whether he got chills from the cool temperatures or the sound of her, he didn’t know. He would like to think it was her, though.

Lando rounded around her body, coming to a complete stop with snow spraying behind him as he fell to the ground.

“Y/n! Are you hurt?” His hands, covered in gloves, gently moved her body to sit up, a smile still gracing her face after the accident.

Her cheeks were flushed as she looked up at him with a mischievous grin and Lando was sure his heart stopped beating. Her beauty was a kind that was subtle, not truly reaching its full potential until she was laughing or smiling and only then blowing you away with such vigor, it took the air from your lungs. Sparkles in her eyes and soft features, Lando always felt a soft kind of feeling burst within him whenever she blessed him with her gaze. He remembered the first time he caught her sight. She had been a vision in a red dress at the gala his dad had forced him to go to. He remembered watching her as she floated across the floor, wondering how someone who looked his age could act with such elegance, and being completely enamored with the woman she already was at 18. He was obsessed, unwilling to look away, and when she looked back, he learned what it was like to be truly awestruck. Suddenly, she had grown shy under their staring and, when he approached her, the two of them had been a bundle of stuttering nerves. Lando later learned that the change in her demeanor was because of her already knowing his name at that point, already having a crush on him. He found it cute then and he still did now as she looked at him with the same light eyes she did that night. The same gaze she shot him every night, everyday, and every moment since they got together those six years before.

“No,” She shook her head at him, waving her hand in his face as she tried to get back on her feet. When she plopped back down, he laughed at her, apologizing quickly after when she looked at him like a lost puppy. He stood up before her, looming over her sprawled out body before bending his knees and reaching out for her arms. His strong, large hands clutched her biceps as he hoisted her off the ground, pulling her into him and successfully getting her to a stand.

Their skis clanged together at their feet, but the noise didn’t interrupt him from leaning down and pecking her cold lips. He smiled under her reciprocated kisses, blushing over her affection and providing some sense of warmth for their smashed-together faces. They stayed kissing each other sweetly off to the side of the run, wrapped in the other’s arms and completely removed from the world around them. That was typically how it was for them, alone in their own world and completely enthralled with the other.

Six years and that had never changed.

And Lando hoped that wouldn’t change for the rest of their lives.

“Oil! Stop fucking on the ski run!” Max screamed as he passed them, goggles on as he zoomed past. Lando moved his head to the side, giving his girlfriend a perfect view of his stellar jawline.

He yelled back, still tangled in her arms, “Shut up! Thank you!”

Y/n giggled at the two best friends, still surprised at some points by their antics.

He returned to her, head tilted down to lovingly gaze upon her, “How about we finish this run and then we can go back to the lodge? Maybe get a drink or two?”

His eyebrows wobbled, she knew what he meant, and she was quick to hit his chest, “Lando! We are with your friends. They are literally staying in the same room with us.”

He scoffed, “There’s a door! It’s like Max’s and I’s old apartment. We used to fuck in my room all the time.”

She rolled her eyes, “That was different.”

“Why?”

He hardened his gaze at her, challenging the argument she was clearly losing. He smiled triumphantly when she huffed his arms and wiggled out of his hold, “Fine! If you make it down to the end before me, we can go at it!”

His jaw fell open as she began to ski away, giggles ensuing and a sound that echoed in his ear even after she was out of hearing range. When he became unvexed by the sounds he adored to a concerning level, he pushed off and began racing down the hill.

When he passed her, he just smiled knowingly at her and thought of the things they would get up to that night.

—

Lando’s kisses splayed across her stomach sensually as his hands toyed with the hem of her shoulders. Her quiet, breathy moans turned him on to the point he had to rut his hips against the mattress to gain a small amount of relief.

“Like that, baby?” He asked as his hands traced her pussy over her underwear.

She whimpered in return, hands clutching his hair as she stared at the wall in anticipation.

He hitched her legs over his shoulders, burying himself between the thighs that he dreamt of continuously. Whether they were having sex or not, he always found this spot to be quite comfortable. He couldn’t count how many times he had come home from a race to lay in between her legs with his head resting on the low part of her stomach.

She moved her hips closer to his mouth, his hot breath reminding her of the presence that was about to take what he wanted. His fingertips danced amongst her skin as he pushed materials to the side and fully disappeared beneath the comforter.

His head moved slowly under the bedsheets, the only thing she could stare at as she felt his tongue begin licking up her slit. She bit her lip, surpassing moans as to not alert Max and Pietra of what was happening a few feet away from them.

She groaned his name, an almost silent chant of the syllables that had him bringing his fingers to her hole.

He gave her one finger, then another, stretching her out and trying to prep her for him. They always had to do this, whether they liked it or not, he always had to get her slick enough to take him. From the moment they first slept together, it was clear she would never be able to fit him without a sting, and that wasn’t because she was tiny.

He continued his ministrations, the comforter moving around as his head popped up from beneath it.

Muffling words from underneath, Lando moaned, “So wet, baby. You ready to take my big-”

“LANDO, WHERE ARE MY GREY SWEATPANTS?!” Max screamed as he burst through the door.

Pietra appeared behind him, a scolding look on her face that told Y/n Max’s girlfriend knew exactly what was going on in their room.

Max, the oblivious one, continued to stalk into the room, not realizing his friend’s position, “Wait, where’s Lando?”

His eyebrows knitted together as he looked down at Y/n in the center of the bed, a horrified look on her face as she struggled to get words out.

“I’m right here.” Lando mumbled, his words cutting the silence in the room and replacing it with tension.

When his hand appeared from the sheets and he moved them up enough so he could peak through, Max stared down at him, “What the fuck are you doing under there?”

Lando didn’t say anything, choosing to look blankly at Max, waiting for him to understand the implications. Y/n watched comically as it dawned on Max, his features slowly falling as his brain caught up, “Oh… oh.”

To add to the horror etched into Max’s face, Lando nodded and wiped at his mouth, making a slurping sound, “Yep, you caught me eating out my girlfriend.”

Y/n yelped, smacking Lando on the shoulder as Max matched her pitch. A girlish scream emitted from the boy and he was quick to turn and bolt out of the room, Pietra following him close behind with a fit of giggles.

He slammed the door shut when his girlfriend was through, yelling throughout the room about how he was done with Lando and his bullshit.

The boy in question had his head smushed into the warm sheet beneath him, laughing loudly at the moment. His bouncing giggles put a smile on Y/n’s face, letting her forget about the embarrassment she had been feeling previously. Her hand disappeared once more in his curls, tugging softly as he continued giggling into the mattress.

When he came up for a breath, his eyes were red and there was a shimmer beneath them, “Are you crying?!” She laughed, Lando nodding in response as the two leaned into each other, giggling and giggling and giggling.

Their shoulders touched as they keeled over together, Lando gripping her hand as he tried to regain his composure. When it died down, Lando looked over at her, chuckles still coming from her mouth, and kissed her cheek, “Thank you for laughing with me.”

Y/n was about to question his statement, wondering the sentiment and countering it with how funny the situation had been. However, when she met his eyes, the words took on a different meaning. Suddenly, she understood what he meant.

Thank you for continuing to laugh with me.

Thank you for always laughing with me.

The statement was a silent promise of the future. Their future together.

Just, Y/n thought, when would it start?

—

The rooftop of the hotel was filled with bustling adults, glasses clanking together as people joined in boisterous conversation. Lando’s arm around her waist and his whispers in her ear, Y/n felt the love surrounding her that evening.

With their close friends sitting beside them at the dinner table and Lando’s hand on her thigh, she looked around to find everything she could ever possibly need for the rest of her life.

That must’ve translated in her eyes because Lando was leaning down to murmur, “You okay, love? You seem dazed.”

She smiled at him, his heart stopping unsurprisingly, and murmured back, “Yeah, I’m okay. I’m just really happy to be here.”

He pulled back, a large grin on his face, before he began to stand up, “Let’s make you a bit happier then, yeah?”

She was confused by his words, but couldn’t question it as he began dinging his knife against his glass, quieting the conversations around the table and bringing his friends attention to him.

She stared up at him as he began speaking, “I just have a few things to say and then we can all go back to getting drunk.” He laughed, agreeing noises being thrown out by their friends, “First, I would just like to thank all of you for just setting your busy schedules aside to be here for a little commencement trip of the winter break. This season has been one of fun, especially with the fact that Y/n was able to make it to every race,” He looked down at her, grinning softly before he caught Max’s knowing eyes, “I cherish that, love. Anyways, so, thank you for that. The second thing is something I’ve been wanting to do for way too long, but never gained the courage. Oh, thank you to everyone for helping me plan what I’m about to do. I should probably say that before I actually do it.”

Y/n sat up in her chair, looking around to see everyone nodding at him as if they understood what he was saying. She looked to Pietra, the girl already looking at her and sent her a questioning face. Pietra just shook her head with a smile as she pulled out her phone and pointed it at the couple. Y/n’s head tilted, lost in confusion and not listening to what Lando was saying before he nudged her lovingly and forced her to look at him.

“Y/n, you’ll probably want to pay attention to this next part.” He chuckled, but she saw the way his forehead creased. He was nervous. She couldn’t understand why he was nervous.

He sat back down his chair beside her, turning his body so he could fully face her and grabbing her hands to hold in his. His piercing green eyes caught hers and didn’t let her go, “Y/n, we’ve been together for six years. Six years that you’ve helped me to find who I am as a person. Six years as you’ve made me realize the man I want to be, especially to you. Six years that you’ve spent putting up with me and all the stressful things I get us into. But, most importantly, six years you’ve spent loving me. When I first saw you at that gala, I was so incredibly struck by you. Not just by your appearance, you’re very beautiful, baby, don’t get me wrong, but there’s so much more to you that meets the eye and I knew that that night. I was struck by the way you held yourself, how strong you are and how kind you are to everyone around you. You’re consistently showing me the kind of human being I want to be and every day I try to live my life by making decisions you would. You’ve been a guidance for me and I can’t thank you enough for that, especially when I was struggling in my beginning years of F1. It’s not something I can say to you every day, but I hope you know how much you’ve improved my life since you’ve been in it. Ask anyone here, I’ve never laughed more, smiled more, or felt as happy as I do when I’m with you. You’ve brought such brightness into my life and I want you to know it’s because you are a light. To everyone here might I add. A light. That’s what pushed me to ask you out, to continue to fight for you, for us because the kind of joy you’ve given me just by being yourself has completely flipped my world upside down. That’s what pushes me to do what I’m about to do next.”

Y/n’s hands shook in his as she watched Lando move his chair and get down on one knee before her. By now, tears were streaming down her face at the realization of what was to come. By now, the entirety of the rooftop had turned to see the spectacle.

Lando Norris getting engaged.

He looked up at her, something he didn’t get to do often, and removed one of his hands to pull the box from his pocket. When he opened it, Y/n cried harder, taking his head in her hands and kissing him harshly.

He laughed at her, kissing her back before mumbling, “Baby, baby, let me get through it?”

She chuckled through the wetness coating her face and nodded, “Please,”

He moved the ring higher, presenting it to her as if it was the most important thing. She wondered when he would realize he was the most important thing.

“I don’t want to know anyone else. I don’t want to love anyone else. I don’t want to share my life with anyone else, but you, Y/n. I want it to be you. Only you. For the rest of my life. Forever and ever and ever, be my wife?” He said through a smile and choked voice, glistening appearing in his eyes as he stared up at his love.

She sobbed, screaming, “YES, LAN! YES! OH MY GOD, YES! YES!”

She lurched forward, wrapping her arms around his neck and nuzzling into the skin there. His hands gripped her body as they cried into each other, whispering soft words of adoration and love.

“I love you so much.” He said, squeezing her tightly as the restaurant erupted into applause and whoops of cheer.

“I love you too, Lan,” She said back, three words that would never have to go unsaid for the rest of their days.

When they pulled back and Lando slid the ring onto the designated finger, they turned to their table. What they found were weeping faces and large smiles as everyone clapped at the success of their plan.

Max blew his nose at the head of the table, Lando and Y/n laughing at him as Pietra rubbed his back.

“You okay down there?” Lando said with a smile as he watched his best friend.

Max stood from his chair and ran over to the newly engaged couple, shouting words of happiness, “I’m just so happy for you guys! Six years, I’ve been waiting for this! And Lando, you were so nervous and I’m just so happy it worked out. Congratulations! I didn’t expect to get this emotional. I’m just so happy that you’ve found someone to love you even with how horrifically annoying you are!” He rambled, hugging them tightly and continuing to blot at his face.

Lando pulled back, “‘Horrifically annoying’?”

Max nodded, “Yes, and look at her! She loves you for you! I’m so proud of you guys!” He wept again, not addressing the way Lando scrunched his nose up at the insult.

Max pulled them into a hug once more, stuffing his face between the two as Lando and Y/n were left to jokingly comfort him. From over his shoulder, Lando whispered to his fiancée, “Am I really horrifically annoying?”

She shook her head, “Horrifically? No. Annoying, though? Mmm, maybe.” She giggled and smiled at him.

That smile, stopping his heart, made her calling him annoying hurt less. That smile was his everything. That girl was his everything.

Oh, Lando was so gone for her and the ring on her finger just told him he could continue to get lost in her.

For the rest of their lives.

#mclaren #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 fic #lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine #lando norris fanfic #lando norris fluff #lando norris imagines #mclaren formula 1 #max fewtrell #lando norris fanfiction #lando norris fic #lando norris smut #lando x reader #lando imagine #lando norris #lando norris x you #lando norris edit

[tojisun]

since we’re sending p links now…

https://x.com/twtmoods/status/1738064870900203758?s=20

bimo reader and simon.

BIMBO READER AND SIMON!!!!!!!!

!! nsfw - minors dni

p link! 14 MINS? (idk why the duration shocked me the most). n no yea it is them!!

thigh slaps while missionary fucking is smthn i didnt know to be so… hot omfg

god. thinking about the way simon’s staring down at bimbo!reader while fucking her in missionary. how his eyes don’t even know where to rove – to her pussy, greedy as it clings to his cock? or to her tits as they bounce up-and-down with every thrust that simon makes? or to her collar, in-tuned jingles mixing in with her breathy moans?

simon doesn’t know where to begin; he is so hopelessly greedy in the way he fucks you. how can anyone blame him? you’re just so beautiful spread out for him; so darling as you mewl and moan, digging your acrylics at simon’s thighs or forearms in your pleasure.

you couldn’t even say anything other than his name. can you believe that? simon’s sweet girl, fucked into razing pleasure that all you could remember is him.

simon’s heart swells before he begins to fuck you harder, the pace going sharper. you squeal – “simmy!” – and simon knows he will fight the whole world if it meant more time with you like this. if it meant he could have more moments with you like this.

“so good to me, petal,” simon moans, reverence wounding his words. “so fuckin’ beautiful. so perfect.”

simon presses his face on the crook of your neck to stifle his sob, feeling so overwhelmed with pleasure and his lapping emotions that he doesn’t know how to tether himself back. your wobbly arms take him in just as greedily, just as protectively, snaking them around his body to pull him closer into your embrace even when you are drunk in your own euphoria.

christ. see? you truly are his princess. his most precious.

bimbo!reader x simon always ALWAYS gotta turn into something soft n mushy bc i said so <33

(tbh i dont see bimbo!reader being into that like catgirls or smthn aesthetic. ive been envisioning her as having this hot pink, semi-trashy aesthetic, mixed with soft girl aesthetic, yk? like pink suede juicy couture track suit, but also rocking silk dresses and those baby doll platforms. does this make sense 😭 anyway!! other than the cat ears that kept fucking distracting me, no yea this is absolutely bimbo reader n simon hdhehdh)

#bimbo!reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley smut #female reader #anon #ask #suns #I LOVE THESE TWO SM :(

[hyunsvngs]

READ PART 1 FIRST!

continue straight ahead

It had been so dark for so long. But over there, if you strayed from the path just a little, there was a break in the canopy of trees above. Rays of gold filtered through the leaves, and something deep within your chest told you not to leave the path, whatsoever. But it was oh-so-enticing, the thought of stepping into that light and perhaps even feeling just a little bit of warmth spill onto your skin…

Your legs were moving before you could stop them. With each step, your surroundings transform. The black and grey shadows gave way to hues of pink and purple. How could this be possible, so deep in the forest? Your will to question this wasn't quite strong enough. You felt so light, so floaty, so warm.

There was a ring of mushrooms, outlining the clearing, red and white. It may have been a trick of the light, but you could've sworn they sparkled. You stepped over them, into the light.

"Hello, darling."

A man? No. No man was this beautiful. A creature, an angel. A fairy?

He was lounging on a large, flat rock, glowing beneath the sunlight. His feet were bare, toes curling. His legs were slender and ever so long, poking out from beneath a brown, suede-looking skirt. His blouse was white and worn, unbuttoned halfway down his smooth, hairless chest. He was toying with a violet, the petals so bright they hurt your eyes. The further up his body your eyes travelled, the more intoxicated you felt. His features were sharp, all angles and lines, yet there was a softness to him. His cheeks were as rosy as his lips, his eyelashes longer than you'd ever seen before. His ears were pointed where they poked out of his long, blonde hair, cascading down past his shoulders and intertwined with flowers. 

"Who are you?"

He simply smiled. "How did you get here?"

You tried to think backwards, but your memory was getting hazy. "I… I don't know. I just woke up here. In the forest."

The fairy chuckled lazily. "That might be my doing, love." 

Your eyebrows furrowed. It was like you had to fight twice as hard just to think. "What, you brought me here?" 

He shrugged. "Maybe. What does it matter? Come over here." 

At his words, you felt a tug deep in your abdomen, as though he'd hooked an invisible scythe to you and was pulling. 

"What if I don't want to?" you asked, though your own words startled you. Where did they come from? Of course you wanted to get closer to him.

He laughed, bigger this time, his smile meeting his eyes. "Oh, don't be silly. Come."

You didn't register yourself moving, but suddenly you were in front of him. You loomed above him, as he lay on the rock, though you still felt utterly powerless.

"What can I call you?" you asked, then felt silly for asking. 

"Hyunjin," he said. It sounded like his first time speaking the name. "You can call me Hyunjin."

"Have you hypnotised me, Hyunjin?"

He raised his hand, his index finger landing on your lips. "Shhh. Look up at the sky, my darling."

You ignored the electric tingle in your lips, and followed his direction, reluctantly tearing your gaze from him and tilting your head up. Through the trees, with their rose and peach-coloured leaves, you saw. 

"Purple. It's - the sky is purple." 

"That's right, sweetheart, well done." You could hear the smile in his voice as he praised you, and you didn't dare look at him in fear you'd fall deeper. "And the clouds?"

"So pink," you murmured.

"Do you want to feel the way those clouds feel?" He had dropped the violet he'd been twirling between his fingers, his hands laying to rest on your waist instead. 

There was nothing you could do but nod.

"Then come here, my sweetheart. Let me help you get there." 

He spun you around, and you were sitting between his legs on the rock. It didn't feel hard beneath you, somehow. It was like sitting on a cloud. Hyunjin's hands moved from your waist, his fingertips sliding under your shirt and dancing across your tummy.

"How do you feel?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper, his breath tickling your ear. 

It was difficult for you to check in with how you felt; your mind and body felt so disconnected. Not in a bad way, not at all. You just felt… far away. "Light. I feel light."

"I can make you feel better than you've ever felt before. Would you like me to do that?"

You didn't even need to think about the answer. You needed it. "Yes please, Hyunjin."

All of a sudden, your shirt was coming off and your bare back was pressed up against Hyunjin's chest, soft but firm. The air was warm on your skin, and you didn't know if the flowery, powdery scent was coming from Hyunjin or the flora around you, but you were enamoured with it. 

His hands made you feel tiny. You looked down and watched as they cupped your breasts, squeezing them. He found your nipples and pinched them, rolling them between his fingertips. It sent shockwaves throughout your entire body, and you could barely breathe. You choked at the feeling, feeling as though your chest were collapsing - it was more than you could ever possibly handle. The tingling sensation was so warm, stronger than a thousand orgasms and all he was doing was tweaking your nipples.

"Breathe, darling," he urged you. "In and out." 

You steadied your breathing, grounding yourself, focusing in on the pleasure bursting from within you. "What are you?" you panted.

"I'm yours. That's all you need to worry about."

Hyunjin dipped his head, his nose bumping against the skin below your ear. It traced a line downwards, right into the sweet spot where your neck ended and your shoulder began. He kissed you, making you moan out loud with just his plump, pink lips. 

His fingertips made their way down your torso, tickling your tummy and passing over your hip bones. When did you become naked? you wondered. In all honesty, you didn't really care. Hyunjin's fingers were dancing across your pubic bone, then reaching between your thighs, spreading them. You hooked them over his own legs, fully spread for him. 

"Oh, look at you," he whispered, chin on your shoulder. He spread your pussy lips, exploring what you had to offer. 

"Am I pretty?" you asked, heart racing.

"Prettier than every flower I've ever seen," he agreed.

He plunged two of his slender fingers inside your pussy, and you writhed under his touch, throwing your head back against him. It was more intense than anything you'd ever felt before. You couldn't handle it, yet at the same time you wanted to stay here, feeling this way, for the rest of your life.

"How are you doing this?" you whined, your body thrashing with each pump of his fingers. He was playing with your g-spot so accurately that the pleasure almost hurt. It was beyond overwhelming. Nobody had ever made you feel like this before.

Hyunjin only laughed in response, kissing your neck again. "Are you enjoying it?"

"Y- Oh, fuck, yeah," you stammered. The pleasure was so immense that it felt like one ongoing orgasm. When did you start cumming? you wondered. And when would you stop?

"Do you want more?" There was a mischievous lilt to Hyunjin's voice. 

"Are you gonna fuck me?" you asked, equal parts terrified and excited. You could barely handle two fingers, how would you possibly tolerate his dick?

He picked you up effortlessly, laying you back on the flat bed of the stone. You watched as he unbuttoned his blouse (the last few buttons that were hanging on, at least) and unlaced his skirt. His skin almost sparkled in the sun, bright and dazzling. His pecs, his toned abdomen, his waist, his hips, his… his dick.

"What is that?" you asked, voice hoarse. You stared at it, wide-eyed. It was long, must have been twelve inches at the very least. The tip was pale pink, a broad mushroom bulging at the top of the shaft, with the prettiest little slit at the top. The shaft just went on and on, delicate lavender veins twirling around it, all the way down until it met his balls, hanging softly beneath. "It's beautiful."

"I know," Hyunjin said with a smile.

"I… I can't take that, Hyunjin. That's too big, I'm… I don't know who you've fucked before, but I'm just a human. It's too much for me." 

Hyunjin ignored your slightly panicked babbling, hovering over you where you lay. His long blonde hair fell into your face, tickling you. "Look into my eyes." 

You did so. They were black, at first glance. Until pale lilac streaked through the pools, softening them. Rosy pink tones joined the mix, marbling the colours. You felt immediately calmer, pure relaxation flooding your system.

"Three…" You felt Hyunjin spread your legs. You didn't look away from his eyes.

"Two…" You felt him bumping at the entrance to your pussy. He lay his forehead against yours, and all you could see were the swirling colours. Hyunjin disappeared, the forest disappeared. 

"One." 

The feeling was back - you were cumming again. His dick was inside you - how far inside, you didn't know. It could've been a single inch, for all you knew, or it could've been the whole thing. He could be gutting you with it this very second, tearing apart your insides, but you couldn't bring yourself to care. His dick was even more magical than his fingers. 

"Does that feel okay?" he asked. At his words, he came back into frame - you could see again. His expression was so calm, not a single crease or line across his porcelain-perfect face. 

"Good - feels good," you said with a nod. "I - am I cumming? Have I been cumming this whole time?"

"Of course, darling."

"Are you inside me? All the way?" 

Hyunjin gave you another gentle smile. "Why don't you look?" He sat up, and his slender frame was no longer obscuring your view.

You had no idea what to say. He was inside you - to the fucking hilt. It didn't make sense, he shouldn't fit inside you so easily. There shouldn't be such a lack of resistance. Logic said that he should surely be perforating your cervix at this length. 

Logic? Logic was out of the window. You were laying on a stone, in a forest clearing, making love to the most beautiful being you'd ever seen. You were experiencing a continuous orgasm so strong that you could barely feel your body, yet at the same time you could feel it immensely. 

Hyunjin pulled his dick out of you, slowly, until just his mushroom tip was left inside. The shaft was dripping, coated in your cream. He thrusted back into you gently, further and further. You felt him deep inside you. He just kept sliding further, impossibly deeper. Your tummy bulged, and you could see the glow of his cockhead inside.

"I don't understand," you mewled, spit dribbling from the corner of your lips.

Hyunjin caressed your cheek. "Stop trying to understand. Just feel." 

You reached out to touch him, your hands exploring his skin. You touched his shoulders, so strong yet so soft, the muscles bulging beneath your hands. He felt like a cloud. You touched his face, his perfect pretty face, his expression remaining unchanged as you sobbed beneath him. How could he be so calm?

"Does-" you hiccuped. "Does it feel good for you? Hyunjin?"

"Yes, sweetheart." His voice was still, even as he was fucking you. "I don't do things that don't feel good."

You felt as though you were on top of the fucking world. You felt unstoppable, untouchable. You were making this man - this creature, this fairy - feel good. Your mind floated away from you. He hadn't lied; you felt just like the bright pink clouds in the sky.

"Do you love me, Hyunjin?" you asked, silly grin on your face. 

Hyunjin looked at you blankly. "In a way." 

He wiped your cheek with a single finger, following the tracks your tears had painted. "Your tears are so pretty." He lifted the finger to his lips, licking it. He threw his head back, closing his eyes tight, the first real display of pleasure you'd seen from him.

"Are - Are you gonna c-cum?" you asked, choking out each word. 

"Yes, my darling," he said, and you heard just a slight strain to his voice. "I'm going to cum." 

You gripped his biceps, steadying yourself. He looked deep into your eyes. Those gorgeous, ever-changing orbs disappeared from your view, the pinks and purples and blacks evaporating. His eyes were solid white, and held more emotion than you'd seen from the man so far. His eyebrows furrowed deeply. He was cumming.

You quickly realised that you hadn't been cumming this whole time - this was the peak. You felt his ethereal cock cum inside you, felt his seed spurt out of his slit and into your pussy. There was an impossible amount, flooding your body. It tingled, made your pussy throb in ways it never had before. Your entire body was on fire. 

"Thank you, love." He pulled out of you, and you whined at how empty you felt. You swore you'd feel empty until the day you died, if you never felt his cock again. 

His cum was spilling out of your pussy. You frowned, wanting to keep it all inside you, a memento of your time together; but your discontent couldn't last long. It was entrancing. His cum wasn't white but silver, and glowing. It was more like smoke than a man's seed, curling out of you and flying away.

"Don't worry, darling," he spoke with a smile. "There's some inside you, still. Deep inside." Could he read your mind? Had he been reading it this whole time?

"What happens now?" you asked, a sudden panic gripping your chest. "Will I see you again?"

Hyunjin grinned at you. His teeth looked sharp, pointed. You didn't blink, not even when your eyes burned. You couldn't look away for even a second, you had to absorb the sight of him. His glowing skin, his angular jaw, his now-white eyes. His pale blonde hair, cascading in waves down his back. 

He leaned in, and pressed a kiss to the corner of your mouth. "Goodbye, love."

And with that, as suddenly as he appeared, he was gone.

#hyunsvngbinitober ! #hwang hyunjin smut #hwang hyunjin fanfiction #hwang hyunjin fanfic #hwang hyunjin fic #hwang hyunjin x reader #hyunjin fanfiction #hyunjin imagines #hyunjin x reader #stray kids smut #stray kids fanfiction #stray kids scenarios #stray kids imagines #skz smut #skz x reader #skz imagines #skz scenarios #skz hard thoughts

[imnotjaesblog]

Part 5: The Jock

Starring: Lee Jeno

Summary: Unlike some of the other men in Y/n's life Jeno is no stranger. He's had the luxury of knowing and admiring her ever since they were little. He's been his end goal since he was ten and promised a spot at the company if he married his father's best friend's daughter. Jeno wanting only the best for himself and his family kept that promise and has waited years for his moment. It's only after a certain someone starts to spill the details of Y/n's plans of revenge does he start to remember what made him so interested and sometimes so uninterested in her in the first place. In Jeno's eyes, it's only okay when the worst isn't happening to him. Too bad he's next on her list.

Warnings: Smut, Oral (F.m reciving) Y/n gives Jeno a handjob. Intercourse, Curisng and Manipulation.

MINORS DO NOT READ!!!!!

Words: 7.7k

Enjoy :)

The boy's locker room was the last place you'd ever thought you'd be. Yet here you were standing in your brown Jimmy Choo high heel boots, brown patted skirt with the brown leather jacket to match. Your hair was wrapped up in a tight bun and a Jimmy Choo Burgundy Patent And Suede Mahala Satchel is wrapped around your shoulder. Lips in a glossed purse, as you stood in the locker room with your arms, crossed over your chest and every boy's jaw on the floor.

"You can't be in here!" a boy yelled towel wrapped around his waist. But instead of shying away from you, he laughed with his friends all of them checking out your body. His body jiggled as he laughed. You walked over to him Jimmy Choo's boots made a clink as you stepped on the dripping floor. Every male in that room followed your body.

"Sweetie close your mouth. You're cuter when you're not talking," You said watching his mouth slightly open. He stared at you in awe of the pet name and the fact that it came from your lips. He reached over with a chuckle flicking his chin. The boy jerked back causing you to chuckle.

"Watch out man you'll have to take another shower," he said causing the boy to brush him off with his hand. The group of boys went to leave but you stopped one that was on the hockey team.

"Sungchan," you called touching his arm. He turned to you with a friendly smile, already fully dressed. "Yes?" he asked you. "Have you seen Jeno?" you asked back. He raised a brow thinking for a moment. "He should be in practice," he responded swinging his duffle bag over his shoulder. "I can walk you there," he offered with a warm smile. You nodded handing him your bag. He took it in his hands walking ahead as you followed walking out of the sweat and pit-smelling locker room.

Once you arrive at the official locker room for the hockey players Sungchan stops in front of you. "This is it," he said motioning to the locker door. He handed you back your purse, opening the door for himself. You stopped it from closing with your boot. His eyes widen. "You can't come in its for boys," he nervously. You shrugged, "Are they naked?" you asked. He peaked inside seeing all the men in uniform including Jeno. He pulled his head back out shaking his head. You smiled removing your boot and letting the door hit his back.

"Then let me in," you said calmly with a hint of sternness. He sighed pushing the door open. He cursed at himself in his head for letting you talk down to him and for also wanting to do whatever you told him to do.

You walked drawing attention once again with the sound of your boots. Your eyes however searched for Jeno. Seeing only two members of the team sitting at their respective benches. Your school took hockey and basketball very seriously giving both sports their own respective space to practice and change. As you walked further in you stepped on the orange and blue rug continuing your search for Jeno.

You saw Sungchan place his bag down and sit beside Haechan who turned his head when he looked at you. You smirked to yourself knowing the effect you had on him. You walked further in seeing Ten emerge in full uniform. He picked up his head smiling wide when he saw you. He rushed over to you embracing you in a hug. "Mhm you smell great," he complimented. "Same as always?" he asked and you nodded with a warm and genuine smile.

You took his hand pulling him to the side. "Where's Jeno?" you whispered. He nudged his head to the left. "In the office talking with the coach. He should be outside," he said you nodded. He began chuckling showing off his gorgeous smile. "By the way," he nudged his head forward. "Haechan is pissed," he said with a slight chuckle.

"So you see," you responded. "You really did a number on him," he said back looking away from Haechan who once he looked your way again got up and left leaving Sungchan alone. You turned back to Ten hearing a voice. The voice matched a face once he emerged from the corner. Your smile fell and your eyes slightly widened, a lump caught in your throat. Ten scanned your face worried. "What is it?" he asked seeing your face change from worry to annoyance.

He was about to turn but then he heard the boy laugh. Si Cheng is behind him talking with Yangyang. Both men laughed not even noting your presence until Yangyang opened his eyes his laughter dying once he spotted you.

"Y/n?" he questioned Si Cheng's head snapping to you almost popping a vein. "Y/n?" he questioned as well. "What are you doing here?" asked Yangyang. You attempted to find an excuse but Si Cheng beat you to it.

"She's here to meet me. Right babe?" he asked walking over to you. He pushed past Ten who stumbled back annoyed. You scoffed licking your teeth and shaking your head. Si Cheng landed by your side placing a strong arm around your waist. Dressed in his hockey uniform he pulled you closer to him. "Came to wish me luck on the game tonight," he said and you smiled with a nod. Yangyang stepped closer Sungchan coming over as well.

"I didn't know you guys were dating," said Sungchan. "How could you not everyone know? They fucked in his car, remember?" Yangyang asked. You watched Ten's hand ball up into a fist but shot him a glare. You chuckled brushing your arm. "That seems like an exsanguination," you said back calmly with a small shake of your head. "I don't sleep and tell," you said looking over at Si Cheng who clenched his jaw tightening his grip around your waist.

You watched his leg start to bounce. You bit back your own smile.

"Doesn't seem like it," he spat back.

"Wouldn't you like to know?" you asked with a tilt of your head. You mouthed the words "Watch it" to Yangyang all of you watched as he scoffed and walked away. "Ten a moment alone with my boyfriend," you said to Ten who eyed the boy. Si Cheng smugly smirked ushering Ten away with his hand. "You heard her go," he said cockily. Ten went to rush at him but Sungchan stopped him placing a hand on his chest with a shake of his head. "Come on it's not worth it," he said removing Ten. You sent him a comforting smile as he left.

Once it was just you two in the locker room you stepped onto his foot hard his hand removing itself from around your waist. You turned to him, Si Cheng holding onto his aching foot a srunch in his face in pain. You bent down grabbing onto his uniform collar pulling him back up his body straightening out. His fearful eyes wide staring back into your angry ones. You dragged him to a locker pushing him up against it. "Listen, Si Cheng, I don't know how you convinced everyone that I'm on your pathetic little arm but you did. Now that you have given me no choice I will do everything in my power to destroy you,"

"Y/n come on it's all fun-" he said smugly.

"It's not fun for me. You are slowly destroying my reputation and I won't let, especially some nobody do that," You said with a shake of your head. Words spitting from your mouth like venom. Si Cheng hadn't taken this seriously. Assuming this would be a game for the two of you from now on. But now seeing the firey look in your eyes he was starting to realize who he was dealing with.

"I will rip every piece of you apart piece by piece. Destroy every bit of your social life that even the people outside who beg to be in this school will look down upon you. You will be burned to ashes when I'm done with you," you said with no stutter. You stepped closer to him just hovering over his face and with a hushed whisper you spoke.

"And I'll start with the people closest to you the same way yours did to mine," you hushed. Si Cheng's heart rate picked up when you spoke your words of warning. He needed to say something do anything to stand his ground. So he pushed your hand off his arm jerking it back. He stepped closer to you causing you to step back.

"Okay, baby you wanna play this kind of game? You know who my father is-" he warned.

"And you know mine. Try and threaten me," you spat back with a confident smirk. You crossed your arms over your chest watching Si Chjeng closely as he went to speak however his words died on his tongue when the captain of the hockey team stepped out of the coach's office.

You looked over his shoulder with a sinful smile. Si Cheng's eyebrow raised confused. He went to speak but you shushed him with your hand. He stops seeing you and starts to walk away.

"Jeno!" you called grabbing the captain's attention. He turned to you with a smile. Si Cheng's heart skipped a beat poking the inside of his mouth with his tongue. You looked back at Si Cheng with a glare that was quickly replaced with a smile. Who knew behind all that glamour and good looks was an evil Easy A?

"I was looking for you," you said to Jeno as you walked past Si Cheng. Jeno smiled as you skipped over to him completely oblivious to one of his best friends watching not too far away. If this is how you were going to handle things then let there be war.

Too bad you were already a few steps ahead, taking the jewels from all the battles you've already won.

You didn't spare Si Cheng a second glance once your arm wrapped around Jeno's stepping outside the hockey team's locker room.

"I was looking for you," You said on Jeno's arm as he walked to the ice rink. He smiled shaking his head. "I'm sorry I kept you waiting," He said opening the door for you. You stepped inside the cool room rubbing your hands together. Jeno followed behind handing you his Celine hoodie. You slipped it on taking your place on a nearby bench while the hockey team began practice. Jeno slipped on his skates. Once he tied them both he stood up leaning over to place a kiss on your kiss you swiftly turned your head his kiss landing on your cheek.

He didn't think much of it taking off onto the ice rink.

Jeno and you had a small past. You weren't lovers or even close friends, it was only recently that you two became so close. However, you did know his older sister thanks to the closeness of your parents. This university was full of kids who lived wealthy lives it was just a matter of how high you were on the chain of wealth.

You sat at the top. Your parents own multiple businesses their biggest being the tech company. Jeno's father is a CEO at one of your mother's companies. The two being great friends in college she offered him a job he couldn't refuse. Making his sister, him, and you childhood friends. His father always wanted the best for his children. He wanted both to be successful, attend the best schools, and join as many clubs as possible. He wanted his children to live the life they both truly deserved and with his daughter next in line for the company he had to give his son something.

A certain Sunday afternoon at the Y/L house gave him the idea.

After your time with Yangyang that Sunday, you missed brunch with your friends, you had to attend a small brunch your parents were hosting before they left for Bejing on business. They invited a few friends, Jeno's parents being on the guest list.

And with your luck, Jeno was already on your list.

So you set the bait. During your parent's brunch, you pulled him aside. Leading him down a hallway of your childhood home. Sneaking off into your old bedroom. You shut the door after pushing him inside. He stood confused but intrigued unable to wipe the smile off his lips. You locked your bedroom door your feet not having a chance to sink into the memories of your soft carpet. You pushed Jeno onto your bed straddling. He shocked held onto your waist so you wouldn't fall. Leaning down you placed a kiss on his lips grinding against him.

He pulled away eyes wide but still holding his grip on your waist. His lips are already hot and red. A million questions flowed through his head. You had never shown any interest in him. What made you change your mind? Was it physics? He thought or maybe his cologne.

" Y/n what are you doing?" he asked chest heaving up and down. You sat back hands placed on his firm chest a small pout forming on your lips. "You don't want to?" you asked a hint of sadness in your tone. He sat up shaking his head holding you tight, close to him. "No I do its just not when your parents and my parents are in the other room," he said. You sighed lifting your leg up from his waist. You stood up, Jeno sitting up legs spread fixing his blue blazer.

"Fine," you pouted fixing yourself. Jeno stood up wanting to see me in your presence. Grabbing your arm he pulled you in his direction guiding you to your bed. He laid you down and picked up your brown flowy Prada dress that hugged your curves perfectly. He kissed his way up or thigh his action catching you by surprise. His kisses are warm and wet, the heat from his lips on your skin making your panties pool.

You sat up watching his head disappear into your dress. "Jeno I thought…our parents," you said softly eyes beginning to shut as Jeno inched closer. He lifted his head lips wet from his own drool. "I know what I said baby but you clearly need my help and I can't just let you leave when you're in pain. Does it hurt baby?" he asked and you nodded with a pout. He picked himself up with a slight nod followed by a pout placing a wet kiss on your lips.

"See baby I can leave you in pain. So let me do this okay? Let me make it better," he said kissing your jaw. You nodded handing reaching up to his hair and eyes shutting. "Okay but what will I do when it hurts again?" you asked playing along. He kissed under your ear and down your neck. Licking and sucking on the beauty mark just below your ear. "Call me and I'll help you," he said placing a kiss on your lips. You nodded turning your head to fully engulf him with your lips.

His hand glides down your body hands bunching up the cloth of your dress, hicking it, and ruffling up at your waist. His fingers slipped past your lilac panties spreading your wet folds between his cool lengthy fingers. You leaned your head back on his chest eyelids fluttering shut. Your lips parted air pushing through and fanning his skin. His fingers crept around your clit swirling the bud in small circles.

You let out an airy moan still being mindful of where you were. Jeno smirked eyes peeling from his hand that disappeared under your brown dress to your face. "That's right baby girl take it," he whispered into your ears warm breath tickling your neck. You shuddered hand reaching to grab his thigh. The faster his fingers circled your clit the higher your hand slid up his thigh gripping on his slacks, your nails digging into his skin.

"Fuck," you cursed feeling your moan get caught in your throat. He looked up checking the door. Seeing it closed the door still locked shut he looked back down with a smirk. He used his other hand to grab hold of your chin yanking your face to meet his looking deep into your eyes. "Awww," he cooed speeding up his fingers. Your lips formed a pout his eyes mocking you.

"Baby girl, are you close?" he asked darkly. You nodded your hand inching closer to his clothed cock. You nodded a knot in your stomach quickly forming but something in your gut told you there was something off about Jeno Demnor.

His hand suddenly slowed. "I'll let you cum if you answer my question," he said you huffed annoyed he brought you so close yet took it away. You rolled your eyes your hand hovering over his dick. You flicked your eyes back up to him. "Fine," you said lips forming a tight line.

"Did you fuck Si Cheng?" he asked slowly circling your clit.

You shook your head staring into his eyes.

"You wouldn't believe me if I said yes," you responded.

He smirked leaning down and placing a kiss on your lips. You turned your head his kiss landing on the corner of your mouth. You dropped your hand grabbing onto his cock and squeezing it feeling how hard he was in your hand. "But don't get in the middle baby. I know your secret," you said picking your head up. You stood up to walk away but he followed grabbing hold of your waist and throwing you onto your bed,

Your legs spread apart. Jeno flopped onto the bed laying in front of you crawling to rest in between your legs. You raised yourself on your elbows watching with a villainous smirk on your lips. Jeno grabbed hold of your thighs spreading your legs apart your dress spilling onto your waist. He ripped your panties off throwing them to the other end of your room. His cool fingers spread your fold, hot mouth engulfing your clit. His tongue flicked the bundle of nerves.

You chuckled watching him devour you.

He wasted no time abusing your clit and sucking every inch of your pussy with his wet lips. Eating you like a starved man. You felt the knot in your stomach form again. He looked up your hands spreading your thighs apart still. Your bottom lip in between your teeth stared back into his dark orbs head falling back as you spilled into his mouth. He groaned eyes shutting as she swallowed your juices coaxing his throat.

"Jeno! Y/n!" you heard your mother called. Jeno panicked letting you go. He stood up adjusting himself while you took your time licking your lips as you walked up to the anxious man. You patted his shoulder stealing his attention.

"Come see me again," you said. He smiled hand resting on your waist.

"Y/n," he began successfully hiding his boner. "I know what you're doing. I know what you've done with my friends," he said hand pulling you closer to him.

You raised a brow heart skipping a beat. Your breathing had quickened as you tried to focus on his eyes. "What do you mean?" you asked hiding the nerves in your tone.

"I know you didn't fuck Si Cheng. You would never, not even out of pity," he chuckled dark hair dusting his forehead. "But I know you Y/n, I know you have a knack for revenge," he said darkly. You pushed him off angrily. "You don't know me-"

"Yes I do," he said calmly. "I know you are planning something," he said with a step towards you. "I may not know what," he said stepping closer and closer to you, your back hitting the dresser. He hovered over you. "But I know it involves them," he said glaring into your eyes. Your chest rose up and down trying to find the words to speak. Your mind flowed with questions. How was he able to read you so well? There so no way out of the entire friend group he would figure it out.

You couldn't let him win. You couldn't let them win. You weren't even halfway and he was seconds from destroying everything. The worry on your face sparked even more of his flames.

"And if I find out what you're doing. I will destroy you," he said a hitch in your throat. You gulped fear flowing through your veins. "So for now," he helped you up taking your arm in his. "You will be my obedient and pleasant girlfriend and if you refuse I'll have my private investigator search every inch of your life and find out what you're doing," he said an unpleasant smile on his lips. "Do you understand?" he asked guiding you to your bathroom door. You nodded walking with him. He opened the door allowing you to step inside.

"Great. Now get yourself cleaned up. I'll meet you in the living room," he said with a smile as he shut the door. The minute the door shut you felt the tension in your body fade. You let out a breath you didn't even realize you were holding. You instantly grabbed your phone and dialed the number of your private investigator thinking only one thing in your head.

Jisung better not have opened his fucking mouth.

———

Once Jeno took off onto the rink you rolled your eyes removing his sweater from your body and placing it on the bench. You would rather be cold than wear his sweater.

After the team took a break you decided to leave. There was a certain boy you had to find. You stood up grabbing your purse. Jeno skated his way to you opening the door to the rink and coming to your side concerned.

“Your leaving? Why so soon?” He asked nicely turning to see if his friends were watching. They were so when he turned back to you he frowned. You sighed forming an apologetic smile on your lips. “I’m sorry. I really have to go. I have an exam tomorrow and I really need to study,” you said moving to walk past him but he stopped you grabbing hold of your arm. He leaned close to your ear lips grazing over your skin.

“You better not be running off to work on your little revenge plan. Because if I remember correctly on a certain Sunday brunch in your childhood bedroom I warned you what would happen if I find out you doing anything you not supposed to be,” he warned. You yanked your arm away looking him in his dark eyes.

“I said I was studying. And besides Jeno do you really want to warn me so out in your open? Where anyone can see you or hear you. Look that them,” you leaned in taking his chin in your hands and pointing his head in the direction of his friends all watching the two of you.

“One wrong move. One slip and I’ll make sure everyone here believes you hurt me got it?” You asked a smile on your tongue. He scoffed stepping back from you. “You know what you’re right, you should probably go. I have some things I need to take care of,” he said as he walked back to the rink skating with his friends. You brushed off his comment making your way out of the rink.

Once the door closed you instantly made your way down the hallway. Students seeing the glare in your eyes and nostrils that flared stepped aside saving themselves from your wraith. You turned a corner spotting a certain friend of Jisung’s speaking with a fellow classmate. You walked over to him nudging his friend to the side and grabbing onto the other guy's shirt.

“Where is Jisung?” You asked him eyes glaring into his. He put his hands up shaking his head glasses shifting.

“I don’t know-“

“Don’t like to me Doyoung. Where is he?” You asked narrowing your eyes. Your brows furrowed as he scrambled his words. “Why?” He asked nervously fumbling with the straps on his book bag.

“He owes me something. Now tell me!” You demanded Doyoung’s friend running off. Doyoung shook in your grasp looking at every else but your eyes. You shook him again heels clanking on your floor. He put his hand up in defense. He always dreamed of you approaching him but not like this.

“In the library-“ he finally said through pants. You let him go causing him to stumble but he didn’t fall. He adjusted his glasses and fixed his button-up as he watched your hips sway down the hallway to the library. His nerdy friend came back patting Doyoung’s shoulder.

“Was it everything you hoped?” He asked jokingly. Doyoung shrugged him off. “Oh, you didn’t run away?” He spat back. The boy just shook his head sucking his teeth.

The trip to the library, while on the other side of the building, was rather quick. You practically flew there with how quickly your legs took you there. You opened the doors head already doing circles around the seemingly crowded space. You swiped your ID gaining access to the space and moving past a group of girls who were just walking into the space. You walked farther in not seeing him at a desk on the main floor. So you went upstairs a disappointed huff leaving your lips when you failed to find him again. After an unsuccessful trip upstairs you began checking the aisles.

He wasn’t in Fiction.

Or Mystery.

Or Romance.

Nor was he in Si-Fi.

You were about to give up until you reached historical fiction where you found the boy in the grey hoodie sitting on the floor, reading a nonfiction book and headphones in his ear. You smiled walking over to him. When you stood tall above him he still hadn’t noticed your presence. You sighed bending down to his level knees touching your chest. You leaned forward grabbing one of the headphones and removing it from his ear.

“Hi,” you said quietly. He turned to your neutral lips forming a smile. “Oh hey,” he said taking off his other headphone. You smile nose scrunching in the process. Jisung smiled back but it slowly started to fade when he realized you were pissed. He immediately grabbed his bookbag stuffing his books in his bag. His headphones fell to the ground dragging on the floor as he ran around the corner. You turned walking the other way reaching the opposite end of the large book shelf. Jisung stopped in his tracks turning the other way.

He ran to the back of the shelves with nowhere to turn but the way he came. He calmed his breathing placing his hand on his chest. He checked the path seeing it empty. With a sigh of relief, he picked his headphones up stuffing them in his bookbag. You could see him scrambling around his bag.

You appeared from the shadows brown-heeled boots silent against the navy blue carpet. You stepped closer to the carpet doing you the favor and keeping the clink in your shoes quiet. You stepped closer to him, still not taking notice of your presence. Until he saw your boots, then your legs. His eyes scanned your frame upwards passing your waist and collarbone soon meeting your eyes.

He went to take off but you grabbed the strap of his bookbag yanking him back causing him to stumble onto a bookshelf. His back lay flat and his legs wide holding his balance. He looked up at you worried expression on his face. His book bad starting to fall from his shoulders. You wasted no time trapping him arms holding onto the bookshelf behind him closing him in. You stared deep into his eyes a huff leaving your lips.

"What did you tell Jeno?" you asked chewing on the side of your mouth. Jisung shook his head bringing his hands up in defense.

"Nothing. I swear," he said anxiously his eyes doing their best to maintain contact with yours. You grabbed onto the collar of his hoodie bringing him closer to you. His bookbag fell to the ground in the process. You glared into his eyes nostrils flaring.

"Don't lie to me Jisung. I know you said something. How else would he start to catch on?" you said growing impatient. You didn't want to confront him this way but if Jisung really did tell Jeno anything what choice did you have to get the truth?

He shook his head again. "Y/n I swear I did nothing," he said. Your lips form a tight line. You looked closely into his eyes searching for any sight of hesitation. When you couldn't find anything you let him go letting him hit the book shelf again. You viciously picked his bookbag from the floor placing it on his shoulder. When it touched his shoulder you leaned closer meeting his ear.

"I find out your lying to me I will ruin you," you warned letting the strap fall on his skin. Once it landed you turned around and walked away leaving Jisung alone, in the dark part of the library.

"Do you think he really could have something to do with it?" Wendy asked you as she walked beside you towards a bench at the hockey game. You were no stranger to these games, being Ten is on the team. People knew you were coming to the game. They even created a seat close up just for you. It also drove in a larger crowd. Most people come to see you, maybe even talk to you if they have the chance to.

However, after Si Cheng's little lie, people started to look at you differently. Si Cheng based on the universities ranking was bars below you. If you could pick someone to beneath you then what made you different from them?

This hockey game would be your first public appearance after you decided to not attend the Halloween party. People were waiting to see what you'd do next. They knew you were not one to be played with which is why they kept gossip short and only talked when they had left campus. Most people lost the respect they had for you when the rumors came out. Others fought to not believe such rumors, you'd never choose someone like him to take over your father's business.

Jeno made his way over to you as you made your way to your seat. When you went to sit down there was another girl in your seat. Wendy went up to her tapping her shoulder. "Uh you are in her seat," she commented blankly. The girl turned looking you up and down before she turned back to her friends scoffing, flipping her hair, and laughing with her friends. Wendy gasped a surprised look on her face. She went to launch herself at the girl but you stopped her.

"Wait," you told suddenly pointing at Jeno.

"Let her have the seat," you said loud enough for the girl to her. She turned to her friends sitting beside her ready to defend her. She turned crossing her arms over her chest a small tilt in her head and a smirk on her pink glossed lips. "It's just a chair," you said with a sly smirk feeling Jeno come up behind you.

Jeno would be your ticket back to the top. If you wanted to destroy Yuta, Jaehyun, and Johnny you had to retake your place. Getting the lesser like Doyoung, Mark and the other friends they have would be easier than Jaemin, Haechan, and Yangyang combined. But Jeno, Johnny, Jaehyun, and Yuta were held high at your school. The only way you can get them is if you make it to the top and Jeno was your ticket.

So you'd let him have his fun. Let him think he was controlling you, turning you into his obedient, pretty little girlfriend. Let him think he would be the man you married after university so your father's company would be his. You smirked feeling his hands wrap around your waist and the girls in front of you watching with wide eyes.

Jeno's downfall would be your greatest.

The girl perked up standing in front of the bench. She cleaned the seat with her hands. "I was just keeping it warm for you," she said quietly a fake smile on her lips. She and her friends rushed away. You smiled turning to place a kiss on Jeno's lips catching everyone's attention. Everyone Oooed and cheered for the two of you. When you pulled away you saw how surprised and red Jeno was. Some guy even patted Jeno's back proud of the captain.

You smiled stepping away to take your seat.

"I know your secret," you whispered to Jeno who laid in between your legs. You had left the hockey game once it finished. The Dinosaurs had yet another game this season. Jeno drove you back to your apartment. You invited him upstairs letting him stay for a while. After all, he did want to celebrate your first public appearance, not only for you but for the two of you being a couple.

"What's that?" he asked laying his cheek on your exposed thigh. You let your hand in his hair slowly detangle from his skin.

"You're a virgin," you said softly. You removed your hand from his hair feeling his cheek grow warm on your skin. His eyes widened as he sat up using his arms as balance. He scoffed turning away from you. "I'm not," he protested. You smirked letting out a chuckle and crawling over to him. You wrapped your legs around his waist, and he couldn't help but let his hands roam your bare skin. Molding at your plush thighs for comfort.

"Don't lie baby I know," you said in his ear using one of your hands to wrap around his chest and the other to softly play with his hair. He relaxed under your touch shutting his eyes at the feeling of your nails scratching his scalp. "How?" he hushed your nails putting him in a trance.

"I overheard a few girls. Just talk," you whispered into his ear. He hummed laying his back on your chest. Your hand that wrapped around his body made its way to the hem of his shirt. You played with it silently asking for him to take it off. He listened leaning forward for a moment allowing you to remove his t-shirt. He laid back on your front bare chest rising up and down. His sculpted frame is hot under your touch.

"I can fix that," you whispered in his ear placing a small kiss on his lobe. Your hand glided down his firm chest reaching the waistband of his sweatpants. You pulled back the cloth watching both his face and your hand disappear into his pants. He groaned loudly bucking his hips into your hand. You squeezed his bare cock feeling it get harder into your hand. His hands that gripped your thighs held on tighter his nails digging into your skin. You squeezed him again cupping him in your hand.

He bit his lip becoming fully hard in your palm. "Fuck," he cursed once your hand wrapped around his dick. Fingers gathering his precum and spreading it around his shaft. His slick in your hand coaxing his veiny, thick cock. He let his head fall back in your embrace mouth falling open as you jerked him.

"Fuck baby girl just like that," he moaned biting his lip. You smirked seeing him get all worked up and ready to take you. He let his bottom lip free when you jerked your hand even faster gripping onto the base of his cock to the tip. He rutted his hips into your fist using one of his hands to lower down his pants freeing his dick from its restrains.

"Fuck baby girl I'm gonna cum," he moaned a pornographic moan. Never in his life did a hand job feel so good. You could feel him twitch in your hand making you stop. He groaned frustrated so close to his release all for it to be stolen away by you. His eyes fluttered open readjusting to the light in your dimly lit bedroom.

"Jeno baby," you teased rubbing his shoulder. Again he relaxed into your touch rolling his neck as you rubbed and molded the most tense parts of his body. You leaned into his ear your breath fanning his neck. "Yes," he responded eyelashes dusting his cheeks.

"Let me fix your problem. I know you think about it," you teased with a lick of your teeth. You wrapped yourself around him tighter drawing him back into your embrace. "I know you touch yourself thinking about what it must feel like to be inside a warm, wet, and tight cunt," you kissed his neck feathering his skin with your lashes. He shuddered at the feeling his whole body tense for a moment.

"And I want to give that to you, especially now that I'm your girlfriend, you whispered lips leaving his skin. You pulled your whole body away removing your top completely as we as your bra throwing both pieces of clothing to the side. You laid on your pillows using them to rest on the small of your back. Jeno turned to you lips parted seeing only half of your naked frame on display.

"I want to give you everything," you said slowly spreading your legs apart for him. His jaw dropped instantly falling onto your bed becoming eye level with your glistening pussy. He went to lean forward, just to taste but two of your fingers stopped it pushing his forehead away. You shook your head a slight purse in your lips.

"Not tonight," you said watching him start to feel nervous. Overall Jeno came off as a confident guy. A man with some much to lose but a care in the world. He knows exactly what he wants and knows exactly how he's going to get it. This was something he had always wanted, he just couldn't believe he was going to get it.

After all, he may solely want you because of your father's company but it was still you he'd sleep with. He had to be memorable.

He licked his lips completely removing his sweatpants and boxers both falling off the bed. As he removed his clothes you pulled a condom out from your dresser handing it to him. You ripped it open allowing him to remove it from the package. He placed it around his angry red cock still starved of pleasure and aligned it at your entrance.

You smiled taking his dick in your hands and pushing it inch by inch past your tight hole. You kept yourself together but on the inside your pussy was screaming. Jeno was not only veiny but thick, you felt like your walls would bust. But the stretch was so deliciously amazing you wouldn't even mind it. You could hear your wetness squish agasint the base of his cock that slide inside you. Weighing inside of your body you moved further down just so he'd fit deeper inside you.

Once he rested himself inside you, you tapped his thigh so he could start moving. He did, slowly building up his own pace. His mind blank only thinking of how you felt and his own pleasure. He wanted to move faster completely lose his mind in your tight cunt but he saw the look on your face when he pushed himself fully inside. You winced feeling slight pain by the stretch. So he moved slowly until you said you were ready.

When you gave him the okay he sped up his pace. "Fuck baby," you moaned feeling his cock graze your velvet walls. Your wetness coating his dick, slipping in and out of you. Leaning forward he captured your lips with his. He moaned into your mouth feeling you clench around him. You were still getting used to him being inside you.

You pulled away from his lips head falling back in bliss releasing out an earthy groan erupting from your chest. You felt tingles down to your toes with the reach he had in you. He gripped onto your waist biceps flexing when he quickly rutted his hips into you. His pelvis rubbing against your clit. "Fuck baby girl I'm not gonna last long," He groaned slipping more cursed from his plumped lips. He whimpered feeling you squeeze around him again.

"Cum baby it's okay," you said easing him through his first time. His shut and mouth fell open as he released a series of groans slipping into the condom. You are not too far behind drowning his cock in your slick release. He pulled out slowly. You gasped inhaling for the first time since his entire dick was inside you. He chuckled hair falling onto his forehead body drenched in sweat.

Your body is covered in sweat too. He removed the condom throwing it in the trash. He went to place a kiss on your cheek but you stopped him. You turned to him grabbing his cheek and forcing him to look at you. You smirked a vile look in your eyes.

"Now I own you," you said darkly. He raised a brow trying to break free from your grip. He raised a brow hand coming up to your arm to remove him but it was no use most of his strength drained. "What?" he managed to ask through breaths. "I own you remember?" he told you.

You shook your head sitting up slowly. "You seem to not understand so let me explain it to you," you began.

"You think you know me so well. I'm a spoiled girl whose only purpose in life is to use people for her entertainment. But you're wrong," you say letting him go and throwing his chin. He flexed his jaw hearing a small crack. He turned to you watching you disappear into the bathroom. He waited for a moment seeing you left. He went to open the door but you beat him opening the door wearing one of your red laced robes.

"My father is one of the most powerful men in the world currently and your father is nothing but one of his more accomplished workers with a few gold medals under his belt. But he's nothing like my dad and while that doesn't bother me and could care less about the power, you do," you said eyeing him. You walked over to a small wooden cabinet in the far corner of your room pulling out a small bottle of wine and pouring two cups. You handed Jeno one seeing while you were away he put only his pants back on.

You sipped it and placed it down on your vanity. Jeno held his glass in his hand only bringing it to his lips when you did.

"So?" he commented. "I know your secrets. I could ruin you," he reported defensively.

"And I know your wants," you said calmly with a perk of your brow. "I know what you so truly desire. I also know everything you got to lose how even threatening me is risky for you," you took a pause crossing your arms over your chest. "You like to believe you are at my status but in reality, you are just a boy like your sister and some of your friends who just living off Daddy's money. You not different from us, from me," you said picking up your glass and taking a sip.

"And I know how much that money means to you. Don't make me take it away," you said this time less calm and more stern. You had to drill it in this man's brain that you were serious about this. No way would you let Lee Jeno ruin everything you were walking towards because he had some said rich boy fantasy about becoming even more powerful than he already was.

"What do you want then? For us to break up?" he asked setting his glass down knuckles finally turning back from white to their original color. You shook your head. "No. That remains the same. The only thing I ask is for you to be my pretty, noncurious, little obedient boyfriend," you said with a chuckle. He huffed lips forming a tight line.

"Understand?" you asked. He chewed the inside of his mouth rolling his eyes. He nodded walking over to grab his shirt. "Oh, my lovely," you called back seeing him now fully dressed. "What?" he asked a gruff in his voice.

"Don't tell anyone," you warned nicely. He brushed you off leaving you alone but listened to your demand. You hummed hearing your door lock on the way back to your room. Your dog jumped onto your bed as you put on a movie watching it as you finished your wine. Eyes glued to the screen for about ten minutes before you heard your doorbell ring. You walked over to your front door your dog by your side.

You checked the peephole seeing a familiar boy standing outside your door. You sighed opening the door to a sad Jisung. Your dog almost immediately jumps to greet him at the door. She made him smile for a brief moment before his eyes met yours. He refused to let his eyes wander around your frame only concealed by a red laced robe.

He had more important things to tell you.

You leaned against your front door poking the inside of your mouth with your tongue. "What?" you asked him. He sighed eyes shifting to your eyes.

"I know who's been talking to Jeno. I also know who he plans on spilling to next," he said in a rush. You widened your eyes taking his hand and pulling him inside your apartment the door locking behind him.

Time was slowly starting to run out for you.

Looks like Mark wouldn't have to wait as long as you hoped.

To Be Continued...

I hope you all enjoyed part 5 of my 10-part series Easy A! I wanted to change things up in this part to give Y/n a little scare lol. Overall thank you so much for reading and see you all in Part 6.

Don't forget to Share and Like!

Tags: @hengicumdump @sexygrass @jakiki94 @90s-belladonna @soobiverse @ethelia @notevenheretbh1 @scarfac3 @toroufriteh @renyoungrecs @yumekowhore

#fanfic #nct scenarios #fluff kpop #fluff #kpop smut #nctzen #kpop angst #light angst #nct smut #nct fanfic #jeno imagines #jeno #nct jeno #lee jeno #jeno smut #jeno x reader #nct dream #jaemin #nct dream x reader #jeno scenarios #jeno fanfic #nct #nct u #jeno nct #lee jeno smut #lee jeno x reader #lee jeno fluff #lee jeno scenarios #lee jeno imagines #jeno fluff

[infinity-mars]

Play With Me

Pairing: Jack "Whiskey" Daniels x f!reader 

Word Count: 8.5k+

Rating: Explicit Smut (18+ only) 

Summary: You go out for a night of fun and encounter an alluring cowboy that does everything he can to capture your attention.

Also posted on my AO3 !

You loved to dance. Those moments when your heart fluttered in your chest made you move like you could fly, relishing in the feeling of power it gave you. You weren’t particularly graceful or always on time, but there was a certain magnetic thrum in the air that bent you to its will all the same. 

From outdoor dance clubs to private velvet-roped lounges, discothèques, raves and rooftop bars, you’ve tried to see it all with your friend Kate by your side. 

The cool air nipped at you both as you finally walked inside the club, the heat of passing bodies a welcome feeling. The lit room had a hushed glow as people made their home for the night in plush seats off against the far walls. 

You imagined that the venue was similar to what Alice saw when she went down the rabbit hole and found herself in Wonderland. The bar certainly had the right name, you thought, the people walking around just as colorful as the children’s story. 

The bartender was quick and you were thankful, even though the drink he made was weaker than you preferred. Vodka burned as it hit the back of your throat, aided by the scoff that found you at the man chatting up your friend. 

Kate always had a thing for slightly pathetic men, like she could eat them alive. You were used to her routine by now, her colorful storytelling one of your favorite things to listen to over your morning coffee.

Honestly, you were both horrible together: you pitied the unsuspecting bystanders that listened in. Laughing at an old story she loved to tell at your expense, you didn’t see him at first. 

You wish you could go back to the moment he came crashing into your orbit, not noticing the person on your left until he made himself known. 

“Now what is a pretty bee like you lookin’ so bored all the way over here?” a gravelly voice spoke, the man’s lips tantalizingly close to the shell of your ear. 

Your eyes looked over before your brain could catch up, and what you saw certainly sidetracked whatever thoughts had possessed you before. Wearing a black leather jacket that swam in the neon light of the bar, he almost seemed to glow in a classic white shirt that tapered on his slim waist.

“I’m enjoying myself just fine thank you,” you retorted, taking a generous swig of your watered down drink to hide the rush of nervous energy that possessed you. You were used to beginning the chase, and it caught you off guard to be taken by surprise. 

How refreshing.

 A small grin flickered across his face at your answer. His dark hair and broad shoulders only made him more mysterious, the lolling drawl of his voice making you curious despite yourself. 

Men would approach you with the fashionable audacity they all liked to carry around with careless hands hoping for a quick fuck. Sometimes you’d indulge yourself, but the enjoyable heat of another person wasn’t worth it if they never shut their mouths. 

Your vibrator and weighted blanket made sure of that.

You were undecided if this man fit into that category though.

“That’s not what I see.”

“Hmm, what do you see then, if you know me so well?”

The man shifted his foot and leaned in closer, the subtle spice of his cologne clinging to his suede collar. The way he wore it was effortless, and you wanted to grab onto his jacket to either bring him closer or shove him back, depending on what he said next.

“I see a woman that’s bored out of her mind trying to convince herself she’s not, drinking alcohol not worth the proof on the bottle,” he explained, voice dipping lower as you turned to fully face him, finally meeting eyes that never strayed from you.”You want more than whatever junior over there could ever offer someone like you.”

“Someone like me?”

“Oh honey, I know I walked into that one with both feet. You’re just fishing for compliments now, aren’t ya?”

“Mmm, are you going to tell me what I wanna hear or are you going to buy me a drink?”

“The shit they mix here ain’t what you deserve, I saw that bartender mixing those drinks. Take a sip of this darlin’, and tell me I’m not wrong,” the man tempted, readily extending a sleek silver flask to you that was attached to his belt buckle. How scandalous .

The promise in his expression emboldened you. He had taken a drink from the flask himself before offering it to you in invitation.

“What’s life without a little risk?” His eyes seemed to ask.

You took the chance, the warmth from his hands lingering on your fingers as you took the flask from him.The delicate gold choker on your neck glinted in the light as you swallowed.

Taking a swig, you absorb the flavor. He knew his alcohol, and from the confidence of his statement nothing less than top shelf mattered. You could certainly respect that, wondering if his lips would have the same taste if he kissed you.

“You’re not wrong, it’s very good. I’ve always been partial to whiskey myself.”

“Just good? What you have in your hand is a rare share of Statesman Whiskey, made straight from the source in Kentucky,” he retorted, almost offended if not for the mischievous twinkle in his eye. Something you had said passed a test you weren’t yet aware of.“Even as a Yankee you must understand the quality of that. I knew you would.”

“You caught that, did you?” 

“I don’t miss a thing, and you have most certainly caught my undivided attention.” 

You shifted completely to turn your back on your friend and her man of the hour, uninterested in the conversation that no longer included you. 

This man was right about one thing: you had been bored, and hopefully he would measure up for the evening. He didn’t shrink at your gaze.

It was nice to be approached for once with an interest that could mirror your own. 

“I don’t know how you fit that ego of yours inside this place. This doesn’t exactly look like your scene if I’m being honest.”

He chuckles at that without taking offense and coyly tips the brim of his hat in your direction, smiling with a flash of tongue at your choked laugh that's just for him. 

“Let’s just say I’ve gotten a lot of practice over the years. Even more talking to gorgeous girls like you. A buddy of mine wanted me to check out this new place to meet up sometime for work .”

The queer way he said that wasn’t lost on you, but you figured it was just an inside joke of some kind. 

“You know that a honey bee can sting when it's threatened right?” 

The way he widened his stance in victory as you focused on him was intentional, the insufferable action the kind of cockiness you usually wanted to smother with your own if not for the way it oddly suited him. 

“Oh, that doesn’t deter me one bit. I’m sure your sting is just as sweet. I happen to like that.”

The grin peeking out from beneath his mustache looks genuine. You’re intrigued, looking at him now in consideration. As you checked him out from head to toe, one thing stood out rather prominently. 

“Is that a gun in your pocket or are you just really happy to see me right now?” 

New York might be a concealed carry state but he looked like one of the only men on the premises actually packing heat in all of the ways that matter. The well fitted dark blue denim hugging his thighs left very little to the imagination. 

He was tailored to torture you inch-by-fucking-inch.

“Why don’t you come dance with me for the next song and find out?”

Oh you definitely wanted to shut him up. Preferably with something else to keep that mouth of his busy. 

“No.”

“No? Give me one reason why not and I’ll leave you alone. You can take someone else home tonight and leave ol’ Jack behind.”

“So that’s your name then? Jack,” you reply. His eyes droop at the sound, half lidded and unhurried in the way he examines the way you say his name. 

You finally introduce yourself, like you hadn’t been bantering with the man for a while now. 

Like you hadn’t been imagining what he would look like after spending a night with you, scratch marks down his back a parting gift that'll make him think of you every time he moves.

“If you are so obliged, it’ll be the name you’ll be screaming later and that’s a promise,” he vowed, chewing on a mint he popped in with a cheeky wink thrown in your direction. On any other man that would be a turn-off, but you looked down and saw the way his hands clenched around nothing as you observed him. 

Jack was his own harbinger of surprises it seems. 

The second of silence that follows sears under your skin, charged and frantic for more friction. A quick reply caught on your tongue that you held in, keeping it for later: never let it be said that you didn't like flirting with delayed gratification every once in a while.

“How do you know that I don’t have someone already waiting in my bed for me?” You asked. Jack’s eyes were arresting, lingering lower on your chest for a few moments before looking into your own to answer you.

 He gave a satisfied hum when he found whatever he was searching for.

“I think the way you’re staring at me is all the answer I need.”

You’ll give him credit, he was saying all of the right things. Or at this point, you wanted them to be, your attraction only tipping in his favor.

“Now what is a Southern boy like you doing here? Not to be a cliche, but you’re a long way from home.”

“Oh, I’m just like anyone else. I work at the Statesman New York office, traveling a lot when I’m needed elsewhere. What do you do when you’re not talking to vagrants like me in strange bars?”

“I’m a romance novelist, dabbling in a lot of things really, you know how it is.”

“Hmm, now that sounds interesting. What words must form on that clever tongue of yours?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” you flirted back. 

He began speaking again, the story he launched into exotic and altogether hard to believe, but it wasn’t the words that reeled you in. It was his large hands waving temptingly close that distracted you. You could care less about the time he almost died in Marrakesh after offending someone’s wife.

You’d commit the story to your memory later when the pleasant haze of him faded away.

His tale came to a close as you glanced down and laughed at the stereotype that for some reason didn’t surprise you.

“Can you even dance in those boots for anything other than a two step?”

“I can do a lot more than that.”

“With your shiny belt buckle and Stetson I’d almost think you’re compensating for something,” you teased. A flash of delight lit up his face at your observation, the smirk he sent your way something just north of sinful.

“Everything is bigger in the south darlin' and besides,” he trailed off, hands coming to slowly cage you in against the bar but not quite touching you. “Let’s be honest here, we both know you like what I’ve got underneath.”

You lean forward, a breath of air suspended between you as your mouth almost ghosts over his. Maneuvering out of Jack’s reach, you reach up and take the hat off his head.

You had no doubt he would have stopped you if he had actually wanted to, those large hands of his able to easily overpower and hold you down. 

You suppress a grin at the thought.

Putting the large hat on your head, you brushed out your unruly hair to make it stay firmly in place. His eyes unfocused for a moment before looking at you with renewed intensity, his jaw ticking to the side as he takes you all in. 

You loved the chase, but at that moment you were tempted to end the flirtation and leave the bar to see if those fingers would fill you up as well as they promised. 

“Come on, show me your moves," you dared, steeling yourself as you joined the growing crowd beginning to take over the dance floor. He convinced you. "Do your worst, Jack.”

A remix of one of your favorite songs set the pace as it moved through you. The bass was rich and dark in your veins as you danced, Wonderland falling away in the fury of bodies all around you. The charge that flitted low in your abdomen was one that threatened to crack you in two as Jack brought you back, your ass grinding into him after each beat.

It would be so easy to turn around and let yourself melt into the heat of him.

 But riling him up sounded like a lot more fun. So when the beat shifted so did you, one hand removing the hat from your head as the other reached behind you to bring him down to your level. 

“You know, there’s a saying I heard before that if you steal a cowboy’s hat you’re either fuckin’ or fighting, and darlin’ I don’t have any weapons on me right now. So what’ll it be?” He asked, his voice against your ear making you lean into his palms. 

You felt like smoke, weaving around him as you continued to dance.

“Mmmm, doesn’t a combination of both sound just as good?”

The reactive tightening of his fingers on your hips was just what you needed. The both of you were lost, the music loud enough to cover up how hard your heart was beating.

Jack runs his nose along your neck and jaw until he nips at the vein, the heat of his breath making your own decision for you.

Turning, you reach up and finally kiss him. It wasn’t a quick affair, the push and pull between you both a fight to see who would give in first. You wanted to memorize the feeling, imagining the burn of his facial hair on your thighs as you rode his face. 

You’d even wear his hat while you did it if he asked nicely. 

He tasted like mint and mussed hair dangled in front of his eyes, lightly brushing your forehead as you mingled together. 

You were both insulated in the crowd, kissing each other until you were hardly even dancing anymore. 

Ready to leave the liquor and low lighting behind, you stopped Jack in his tracks. Backing him into the wall of the hallway you ventured into, you did so firmly, hands holding him hostage as you clung to the lapels of his leather jacket. 

The hunger he saw reflected in your eyes pinned him in place, and that alone made him want to ruin you. 

Leaning up in your high heeled boots so that you could kiss his cheek, the remaining lipstick you wore smeared onto his skin like a brand, the red lip print left near his opened mouth telling him that you were dangerous.

Better yet, his favorite kind.

“Follow me cowboy,” you rasped, leaving goosebumps in your wake as you lightly skimmed over his skin with your teeth. The fever consuming from now was one he hadn’t felt bubbling in his blood ever since his last mission months ago.

 He craved it.

Jack vaguely connected that you were an unstoppable force to his immovable object, ready to crash into him like the paradox you were presenting yourself to be. 

When he had clocked you from across the bar earlier he had admitted to himself that you weren’t the usual type of woman he jumped to charm into his bed. You had looked wholly unimpressed with your surroundings before, swirling the ice in your drink as the yuppie next to you preened like a toddler with a captive audience. 

The oncoming storm he’d read in the lines of your body told him another story, however, one that swept him into you and past the redhead that had been trying to catch his attention since he’d walked in. 

The shadow of something wicked had made Jack eager to align your passions with his own.

Impatient at his composure as he thought of this, you hooked two fingers into his belt loops and tugged him off the wall and into you, that jolt he felt from before electrifying below his skin as you pressed against him. 

Reaching down and lightly cupping one of your hands over the denim of his jeans, you felt him squirm the longer you dared. 

 His dark brows furrowed at your forwardness, wanting to taste you again.

Your hands were firm on him, brokering no argument for the sly agent to persuade you with. He admired your drive, easily taking the momentum from him and twisting it to your desires. You kept surprising him, and by the way you delved into his mouth you weren’t afraid of showing him this side of you.

You wanted him to say something, anything, so this time you squeezed with intent, the hiss in your ear headier than the alcohol on his breath.

His cock twitched under your hand, and god it was power . 

You enjoyed him like this: slightly wild but contained, a groan threatening to break through clenched teeth as you felt him up in public so casually. 

You kiss him possessively in that dark room, drinking him up and daring him to consume you in turn like he promised. He might have approached you first, but you were going to finish what you both started.

It was desperate and messy and loud but neither of you cared.

A couple walked close to the both of you, forcing you to break from him in the narrow hallway to let them pass. Your absence made Jack swiftly reconnect himself with your body, his large hand sliding down into the pocket of your jeans to roughly squeeze your ass that had been grinding on him only moments before. 

Leaving his hand where it was, he used it to direct you outside into the street. The nighttime air filled your lungs with relief, cooling the sweat that dampened your neck.

“You're positive you don’t wanna go back to my place? I can assure you the view from my floor is nothing to scoff at.”

“While that might ordinarily be tempting, Jack, your apartment doesn’t have any of the toys that I like to use,” you retorted. 

You could already imagine flashes of the night ahead of you at your apartment. 

“A pity then, I just know that you pressed against my floor to ceiling windows when the sun rises would be a pretty sight indeed.”

“Let’s enjoy tonight and plan on that for next time.”

Shame was not an emotion that Jack entertained often and he wasn’t about to start now, leaving your lipstick where it sat proudly on his face. A few people stared at him in the street, but no one stopped your brisk pace. 

At the last crosswalk he pinched your ass in retaliation when you turned to kiss him harshly, nipping his chin as you leaned back onto your heels. As if you were dry kindling struck by lightning, his hands trailed flames in their wake, each touch only hastening your steps forward.  

Exposed brick, industrial lighting, and high ceilings were what attracted you to your building when you first moved to the area. Your small loft on the upper floor gave you the privacy you craved, the cityscape around you comforting in the way it always kept moving. 

While waiting for the elevator Jack untangled himself from you to lean against the wall on your right. He stood there appreciating you as a few of your neighbors walked around the lobby, Jack tipping his hat to them as they passed.

You didn’t even realize you’d dropped it at some point to kiss him earlier.

“Prettier than a peach,” he murmured, his hand reaching to smooth over his mustache in thought. He was earnest, the mood shifting into something unnamed as the elevator dinged. You huddled into him as people came and went.

"You know," you began, "I'd look even prettier with your hands wrapped around my throat."

 He coughed into his hand, not wanting everyone else in the lobby to see how tight his jeans suddenly felt. You laughed.

You both stumble into your apartment, the size of Jack overwhelming as he backs you into the closed door. His mouth was persuasive, like a switch was flipped now that you were both away from everyone else. 

He left bruising kisses on your neck, completely unyielding in his quest to mark you wherever he could reach. His hands were on the back of your head, holding you in place as he gripped your neck just so. 

For a long suspended moment you were frozen, wanting to regain the ground you refused to lose. But hell, could this man kiss the thoughts from your head. 

Then, all at once, heat spreads through you, thawing you into action. 

Holding onto his jacket with your fingers you tilt your head back with a breathless chuckle, making Jack look into your eyes. You take up one hand and grip his chin, the other drifting to caress the lipstick mark you shamelessly left on his cheek. Pressing down on it with more pressure to show you meant your next words, you wanted him to listen. 

He smirked into your touch, a cocky sort of grin showcasing his dimple that felt entirely warranted as your breath stuttered in your chest. 

“Go sit on the couch,” you ordered. Kissing you once more before moving away, a filthy moan left you as his tongue darted out for a taste. His eyes didn’t look away until you turned your back, shedding clothes in your wake until all you had left on was the lace you were wearing.

“Would you like a drink?”

“Sure thing baby, pour me a bit of whatever you’re having.”

You didn’t leave him for long, reappearing with strong liquor and the type of lingerie that made you feel like you could eat a man’s heart in the marketplace like Beatrice once said.

The warmth from the drink you’d sipped in the kitchen enveloped you as it licked up your chest— you were in your element now.

Grounded in your body, you took a deep breath. 

Emerald lace and satin embrace you, assured in the sway of your hips as you walked over to your cowboy. Handing him his drink and swiftly straddling his parted thighs, you let him take you in.

 You don’t know when he became “your cowboy,” but it sounded right, for the night at least.

Say what you will, but Jack was flexible with a change in plan. He just had to bide his time, finishing the finger of bourbon left in his glass before setting it aside.

The way you spilled out of your lingerie had him drowning in you. Champ once told him that he was an adrenaline addict, chasing every mission that got his heart racing. He wasn’t wrong—you couldn’t function as a successful Statesman agent without a dash of daredevil in you.

And he just loved the way you moved.

His mouth descends on you again, leaving you once to gulp in a desperate breath before attacking with renewed vigor. 

He hoarsely spoke your name, and it was the best thing that had left his lips all night. You wanted him to say it again but this time underneath you, unbidden and desperate at the way you pulled it out of him. You slid your tongue into his mouth and brought up a hand to roughly yank at the hair on the sides of his head, until he bowed his back and leaned into you for a moment.

“Is this what you want?” You asked, snaking your hand underneath the cup of your brassiere to shove it aside and caress your breast, a groan breaking through your composure at the way Jack bucked into you. Though his breathing was measured and even, his lips parted at the sight of your nipples pebbling in the cool air. 

“You know, when I saw you at the bar I knew I had to talk to you, take you with me when I left,” he murmured, quiet in his admission as it rang true on his face. 

“Mmmm, honey, I don’t know if you’ve noticed but...you’re in my apartment at the moment, on my couch no less, drinking my bourbon,” you answer just as quietly into his ear. You graze over it teasingly with your teeth just to see him shiver. “And I’m wearing a matching set right now. So who really took initiative tonight, hm?”

Jack laughed almost in disbelief at your words, his body responding for him. It’s an honest sound, one that makes you kiss him deep enough to taste his tongue in the back of your throat.

Ultimately what you saw in his eyes was patience. And that was hotter than anything else he could have done. 

 You sigh his name, letting your head fall forward as he seeks out another kiss from you. 

“This is just the preview. I want it all, and I know you do too,” he breathed against your lips. “Now are you going to let me touch you, or do I have to watch you fuck yourself on my thigh before I can taste you? You can only tempt a man so far.”

“Is that a threat or a challenge I hear?”

“I did promise that you’d be screaming my name, and I take that job very seriously. You'll hear no arguments from me.”

“You sure you can handle me like that, cowboy?”

Jack was wavering somewhere between wholly aroused and perversely indignant. No one questioned him like this, in the bedroom or otherwise if he could help it.

 He hated how it turned him on like this. 

You’re not sure what emboldens you to tease him; your resolve only heightens the longer he looks at you, as if you could spill over into him and it still wouldn’t be enough. 

“I have never been more sure than I am right now.”

He knew how to fire you up. In many ways, you were both quite similar.

Restless and insatiable. 

Purposefully running your hands down his chest only to stop your exploration at his belt, the rumble in his chest was one of approval as you scratched at his abdomen through his shirt. 

You enjoyed yourself when pleasure could mix with a bit of pain, and you had an inkling that Jack did too. You wanted to deny him, reduce this enigma of a man into a begging mess before the sun came up. But your own need to be touched by him won out, and damn him for kissing you like that—as if you were the antidote to a fatal poison he had drunk in an effort to forget you. 

“You can touch me, Jack, but there’s something I want to do first.”

You meet his gaze for a brief moment as you pause in this position on top of him, being perfectly still when all you wanted was to hold him close until there was no space for questions or distractions.

An understanding passes between you both. Your body buzzes with nerves, synapses firing as all thoughts focus on the man holding you.

He grabs at your hips, whispering encouragement in your ear as he guides you to settle flush against his lap with your legs on either side of him. The zipper of his jeans and his belt buckle rubbed into your clit hard enough to make you shiver.

“ Fuck… ”  

Jack  scrapes his teeth over your jaw. Barely there. More of a breath across your cheek than anything. 

You reach back and unlatch your bra, throwing it away as he cups each breast in his calloused hands. Arching into his attentive mouth as it reached your skin, you threaded your fingers in his hair, messing up the hat flattened strands and tugging on them harder when he bit down teasingly. 

Letting your nipple go with a wet plop, he leaned back into your hands on his head.

“God, I am so fucking hard thinking about licking into that pretty pussy of yours, bet you taste real good,” Jack groaned. You answered in kind, kissing him again to swallow his words.

This was just the warm-up.

“I’m going to cum just like this against you, but if you move any more then I won’t be quite so kind later. Wanna make you earn it. I’m a generous lover, Jack, but a fair one,” you simpered, grinding almost cruelly against the hardness of him that you could feel throbbing through his pants. “You want me to be nice, don’t you?”

“Oh darlin’, I’m sure you’re sweeter than a saint,” he grunted, words stuttering as you brought his head up closer to yours, lips touching but not quite. Rotating your hips, you sigh into his mouth as you move against him. 

True to his restraint so far, he kept himself in place, his breath hot against your cheeks as your pace quickened. 

“Mmmm, can’t wait to have you inside me,” you sighed, his muscles straining beneath your fingers. Shuddering at the feeling of him under you, your first orgasm was creeping closer as it began trickling down from the tips of your fingertips. “D-don’t want you to cum until I’m done with you.”

Jack’s mouth opened partly in awe as you grinded on him with even more force. 

He had a hidden strength to him, and by the way his arms flexed around you he could have easily moved you under him at any time. The fact that he didn't demand it was arousing.

Fuck you were wet.

Tilting his head slightly, he enjoys the view of you on his lap using him for your own pleasure. Your tits bounce as you move, and he’s torn between telling you how perfect they are and moving just slightly to bury his face in your softness. He whimpered silently as you pulsed around him, able to feel it over his clothes as you threatened to unravel.

“Oh, look at you,” he exclaimed, voice a low rumble that stokes the fire in your belly. “Just like that, baby. Fuck, come on. Take what you need from me.”

He says your name once, fervent and taut, barely able to keep himself in check. The fact that he was still almost fully clothed made him need more . You were all warm skin and curves and he wanted to feel every second of you wrapped around him.

He tensed his thigh and shifted slightly but you didn’t notice as you rode out the waves of pleasure rolling over your clit.

It was exquisite and hurried and not the end goal but you didn’t mind. You had wanted to see if he would listen to you. If he could take what direction you gave him. It was an entirely different high you’d surprisingly discovered in your twenties, having a man in your control, making him beg with just your body. 

And yet, Jack did not beg for himself. The look in his eyes was expressive enough. Still he didn’t move, and that was what finally pushed you over. 

Gasping in shock, your orgasm softly washed over your skin. He eagerly watched, memorizing the way your mouth hung open at the feeling of him grabbing your hips with bruising force to drag you over him once again.

When you finally opened your eyes Jack was already looking at you, and you did not shy away. His hair was tousled from your hands, lips swollen, eyes bright—you savored him like the Kentucky whiskey on his breath. 

“Mmmm, you were so good for me,” you praised, voice heavy in your mouth as you recalled how to speak.

As you came back down he chased your lips, taking his time to touch you the way he could now that you’d fallen into his chest. His mouth was a wanting, wretched thing, tracing a path from your lips to your chest. 

You pulled back for a moment. “Do you want to switch to the–”

“I’m not done yet,” he interrupted, bringing you back into a heated kiss that had you whining into his hold on you. He slips his tongue in your mouth and seems to slow time licking into you just so, making you shiver. 

His hands were frenzied in the way they glided over all the flesh he could reach. 

You would torture him no longer.

His blunt nails traced over your spine, and you wanted to ask him to do that again. 

“Now you are a rare gift, my dear,” he hummed into your mouth. “I would hate for you to be tired already.”

“Oh, you don’t have to question my stamina,” you slyly answered. Even now you are still hazy in your bones, tethering yourself to his firm grip on your ass. “Worry about your own.”

The chuckle that leaves him is telling, and you clearly feel his frustration rolling off him now that you can think in complete sentences.

You kiss the corner of his mouth and swiftly hop off of his lap, trembling for a moment as you right yourself. There’s a slight damp spot from where you were sitting on his white shirt that had been hanging over half untucked from his jeans, but you’re too drunk on endorphins to feel embarrassed. 

You did that .

Your heart stuttered for a moment at the raw ache you saw in his face. Hooking your fingers in the slim waistband of your panties, you then cast them aside. 

It felt like an afterthought after what you had both just done, but the way Jack looked at you was anything but unappreciative. 

What you inspire in him is so erotically charged that he is momentarily struck dumb by what you do next.

Falling onto your knees you look up at him through your lashes, taking the flask attached to his belt buckle, the surface slightly wet from your release making it slick in your hands. It was silent in the apartment, the only sound Jack’s breathing as he watched you drink from the flask that he favored so much. 

You could taste yourself around the metal and lipstick and whiskey. A theme of the night it seemed.

Awareness flows down your spine at Jack’s gaze. As you take one more pull, his hands reach up to card through your hair, holding it in a makeshift ponytail, reaching for you with a finality that has you arching into him.  

You lead him into your room, wishing you had cleaned up a bit before tripping on the rug, laughing as you both stumble into your metal bed frame. 

“Now Jack,” you begin, bracing yourself for the next conversation you rarely walked into without some gut feeling bracing you up. “Do you have a safe word?”

He didn’t answer immediately, but when he did he was entirely focused on you. 

“I do, pretty girl. It’s sweet tea.”

The way his mouth caressed each syllable with that slow southern drawl shouldn’t have been as damning as it was.

“How do you feel about ropes?”

The way he lit up was thrilling. He looked away with unfocused eyes, enjoying a private joke that only he knew. It was the expression of a man that delighted in his own mystery. 

You couldn’t deny that a part of you was burning to know what he locked away. He prowled with that hidden energy, and knowing what you’d experienced of him so far, you would have to work for a proper taste.

“I happen to be quite gifted with whips and a lasso if I do say so myself. I’m rather versatile in that regard. Rest assured it is not my first rodeo.” 

“In that case cowboy, I want you...to tie me up,” you said before grazing your thumb across his bottom lip. He nodded slightly surprised, with the way you had directed him earlier he had thought you’d wanted to tie him up instead.

 It wasn’t like he couldn’t escape from some ropes if he really needed to.

He had been amazing under you before, but you wanted more. You wanted him to take your body and make your need dissolve on your tongue as you cry. You wanted it to hurt.

Jack felt like you could read his mind, look into the very heart of him and learn all of his desires. Palming himself over his jeans, he imagined the warmth of your mouth and had to stop from outpacing himself.

You walked into your closet with purpose, toeing on your favorite pair of stiletto heels as you grabbed your selection of ropes from where they’re hidden.

His eyebrow ticks up at the sight of you naked with only your Louboutins on, the black ropes in your hands are just as daring. He waits for you to settle onto the pillows of your bed before methodically tying your hands to hooks in the wall on either side of your headboard.

 It took him a few moments but his knots were sound, loose enough but tight on your wrists so you couldn’t break free. You were grudgingly impressed with how fast Jack could work when he was motivated, filing it away where you could exploit later.

He throbs at the salacious painting you rendered, spread out and glowing in the warm lighting of the room. With your opened legs you were vulnerable and slick and soft. 

Jack didn’t want to wait any longer before losing himself in you.

He shifted down to lay himself between your parted legs. You swiftly stopped him with your left leg extended fully out, the stiletto of your heel digging into his lowered shoulder as he kneeled on the bed. The startled look on his face made you tease him, grinding it in a little further before moving it down his chest to stop at the length of his cock straining for freedom. 

Pressing down.

The choked groan that he involuntarily let out was painfully erotic. You wish you could record it and hit rewind.

“Hold your horses, Jack. You have far too many clothes on. Strip for me first before you get what you want.”

To his credit he didn’t jump up and frantically discard the remainder of his clothing. Like you before his expression turned calculating, methodically shifting off the bed and taking off his shirt and discarding his pants along with his underwear. All are then folded on your nightstand, neat and pricise to minimize wrinkles.  

You swallow at the way he ignores your anticipation, but it brings no relief. 

His skin is tan like the rest of him, belly soft and strong before a small trail of dark hair leads down to the base of his cock sitting heavy against his stomach. 

You imagine tracing your tongue over every inch of him seeing where he’d fracture and break in your hold, only to put him back together again when he asked.

He was incredibly distracting like that when he wanted to be.

Captivated, your eyes stop back at his chest, small faded scars criss-crossing his skin, one worryingly close to his heart that had you straining for a closer look. His muscles ripple as he moves, the veins of his arms as formidable as the rest of him. 

Jack was focused as he finally settled low on the bed, fingers ghosting over skin as he hitched your legs over his shoulders. Kissing and nipping at the inside of your thigh, he took in a deep breath and let out a little hum, puffs of air hitting your pussy as he adjusted.

He leaned his head on your left thigh and looked up at you briefly.

“You remember the safe word, sweetheart?” He asked. You nodded, almost drunk at the heat of him crowding you. “I need to hear you say it.”

“Yes Jack, I remember it’s sweet tea. Now are you going to eat my pussy like you mean it or do I need to get myself off again?” You answered, tapping your leg down on his back knowing fully well how it would rile him up.

He grins at you savagely, leaning down the remaining space to lick a long stripe all the way up your folds. 

You buck into his mouth, your already sensitive clit coming alive again. He moves his arms to cage your hips in his hold, bringing you flush to his tongue by grabbing onto your ass. 

He was nestled between your legs, mapping your body with licks and handprints. Your half-formed praises and keening whine made Jack a mess of a man, grinding into the mattress as he drank up everything you could give him.

He loved your voice and the way it scattered into nothing when he sucked your clit into his mouth. He made no pretense at staying quiet, noisy and whole in his destruction of you.

Coming up for air, his mustache glistened, cheeks red from his own harsh breathing against your cunt. His lips were wet and you wanted to taste yourself when he kissed you. He reaches down for a moment and pumps himself harshly, tightly fisted and the sound he lets out...you feel it like a pulse.

His nose brushes you as he dives back in. If he could sink underneath your skin you would burst. 

He slides two fingers inside, your muscles clenching around him as far as he could go. Curling his fingers upward and holding them there, a hot fusion of unnamed pleasure and painful awareness zips through you. You can't help but squirm underneath him.

There it was.

Jack wanted you to call his name until he no longer connected it with himself, an uncontained force that compelled him to do whatever you wanted if only you'd say his name like that again. 

Wanting. 

“Fuck, when you say my name like that I just burn all over,” he murmured. “You gonna cum now, baby?”

You hum distractedly, the coiled tether in your abdomen snapping when he doubles down just right. He eagerly laps at you as your pussy flutters, climbing higher and higher until plunging you into nameless bliss. Each limb feels liquid as you touch down.

Jack keeps sucking and licking you without stopping and you can’t cover your mouth to muffle the whimpers that slip through. He adds a third finger and continues to move through each aftershock that bounces through your body.

“Come on. Lord—when you sound like that I don’t want you to stop. You’re not done yet, I know you can give me another one. Look at the way you take me in.”

You wanted to dodge his mouth as he sucked on you again, even the gentle way he prodded at you felt like too much. You weren’t going to beg yet, even for a man like Jack. Despite your discomfort you felt yourself stir again, weaker but no less corporeal, as he pressed down hard on your clit with a pressure that made your breathing pick up.

With effort you rocked into him once more and strained to lock your legs around his head, squeezing when he nipped at you. A handful of minutes later you were boneless and spent, legs trembling as he drew your pleasure out.

 He moaned at the feeling of being utterly surrounded, desperately sending you over again so that he could breathe. 

You couldn't think past the wall of sensation you were being held against without mercy.

This orgasm was harder than the last, a juggernaut that only built on the first. A few silent tears trailed down your face, so overcome that his facial hair burned similar to the hand shaped bruise already forming on your hip. 

You close your eyes so tightly that sunbursts bloom behind your eyes as you breathe through it.

Standing up to catch his breath, he used some of the slick on his fingers to slowly cover his shaft, aching from being hard for so long already. From the sheer size and weight of him that you can see, you’re glad for the bottle of lube on your bedside table, though you’re so wet it probably didn’t matter.

Jack settles himself over you, tugging you up into a fierce, messy kiss, teeth and tongues and harsh breaths traveling from his mouth into yours. 

You were so relaxed that the stretch of him affected you only for a moment as he buried himself inside you. The gasp when he moves catches in your throat, a ghost of all the pleasure he had given you just moments before leaving your body.  

 His voice stutters as he slowly thrusts inside of you, setting a steady pace. “Should keep you right here just like this, make you cum until you forget your own name. Would you like that? Take care of you like no one else will?”

You swear, picturing his words as they traced themselves down your body. As heavy as the feeling of Jack resting his weight on you was, you thrived on it. Your arms felt strained from being tied, but he curled around you just so, keeping you both connected for as long as possible.

Jack’s arms flexed as he adjusted to reach for you, extending his fingers until they pressed into your parted lips.

Swirling your tongue around his two fingers, you could taste yourself on his skin. He then leaned down and used them to press into your clit. It had you closing your eyes, too overwhelmed to speak through it. 

You didn't have any smart comebacks in you now.

His unrelenting tempo jostled the bed against the wall. Moving back to lean on his heels, Jack pistoning into you at this new angle was overwhelming but you simply didn’t care. He yelled out in a voice you almost didn't recognize, hoarse and wet as it ripped from his chest.

“Come on Jack, cum in me,” you panted. “ Fuck , I know you’re close. Can feel you aching for it. You’ve been so patient. So good . ”

You intentionally clench around him like a vice, and it has him tumbling into his own release moments later with a startled shout.

Satisfaction seizes his veins in a chokehold.

He collapses into your chest, the both of you covered in a slight sheen of sweat that was beginning to dry in the cool air.

Whimpering slightly as he pulled out, he worked through his own lethargy to take care of you.

He leaned up and undid the knots holding you hostage. Immediately your arms flop onto the mattress, the burn of your muscles just adding to the mental catalog of sensations you take stock of. With Jack resting on your chest you card your fingers through his hair, the both of you too out of breath to say anything for a few moments. 

The weight of him on top of you kept you grounded.

Warm. Languid. Eyes drifting closed at how heavy you feel. 

“You are gonna be the death of me, woman.” 

“Mhmmm, if that’s the case then I’ll wait to tell you my proposal then. Wouldn’t wanna kill you before another round, Whiskey.”

He lifts his head from your chest at that.

“What did you just call me?” He asked, eyes unreadable as they scan your face. You didn’t care, the words light in your mouth as they leave you.

“Whiskey. You taste like it. And if you think this is the only time I take you to bed, then let me inform you: I still need to drink my fill of you.”

He scratched at his mustache for a moment in thought before he smiles, the most genuine of the night that makes his eyes crinkle with laughter. There it was again, that secret in his expression that has you eager to ask what he’s hiding.

“You’re a very perceptive person, honey. I am thoroughly surprised by you. Tell me what you have in mind when I come back.”

He jumps out of bed to walk into your en suite bathroom, his ass distracting as you watch him fumble around before returning with a warm washcloth to clean you up.  Each brush of his hands on your body is gentle, reverent even as it glides over you. He kisses where your hands had been bound, asking if he was too rough.

You almost laughed. 

You liked it that way. 

Something inside you wanted to stay in the moment, gazing at each other in the dimly lit room. Not forever, just a little longer. You imagine him walking away from you out the door, and it puts an unpleasant feeling in your gut, like you wouldn’t see him again.

You had the sneaking suspicion that if Jack didn’t want to be found he’d disappear.

“So I was thinking,” you began, finally tossing your stilettos off the bed to lay under your quilt. “I have an ungodly expensive espresso machine that makes a decent latte and fresh beans in the kitchen. How about we take a quick nap and then fire it up before round two? I heard once that drinking coffee makes the sex even better.”

“Don’t you mean rounds three and four?” He teased, that ego of his purring at the thought of how much you spasmed and shook around him.

If you weren’t so relaxed you would have probably grabbed onto his balls in response, made him swear around that crooked smile of his.

You'd learn how he liked it and edge him until he melted out of his damn cowboy boots. The thrill of him was delicious, and you hadn't gotten to take a true bite out of him yet.  

“You think you can go another round later and finally ride this prize stallion?” 

That makes you slap at his shoulder. His laugh diffused whatever seriousness lingered and you readily agreed, the both of you winding down as exhaustion hits.

 As his arms settle around you, you imagine the potential of a future with this man of mystery.

 He had barely scratched the surface of what made you wild, and you wanted to change that. Leaving Wonderland with him tonight was an event you were eager to repeat. 

#jack daniels x reader #agent whiskey x fem!reader #agent whiskey x reader #agent whiskey fanfiction #kingsman the golden circle #kingsman #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #smut #one night stand #jack daniels imagine #jack daniels fanfiction #agent whiskey imagine #pedro pascal fanfiction

[sintiva]

‏‏‎ ‎ //santa's sleigh

ft. geto x black!reader

. *. ⋆summary: geto can only think of one way to settle the boredom and desperation that occurs when you two get stuck in traffic on the way to a christmas party

‏‏‎ ‏‏‎ ‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎. *. ⋆contains: gn!reader, they/them pronouns, fem!bodied‎ ‏‏‎fourth‎ ‏‎ reader, chubby reader, a lot of back and fourth, dirty talk, “car sex”, praise, pet names, slight cursing, geto is well versed with reader’s body, alcohol consumption (just… two shots), fingering, fem!masturbation, male masturbation, mutual masturbation, guided masturbation, geto edges himself!, foot job (with stockings on), geto has a stocking fetish, established relationship!!! //wc: 3.4k

. *. ⋆*ੈ✩‧₊˚ sin's notes: this wasn’t short and sweet, but i hope you all enjoy it. i’m trying to work harder on my dialogue, so there is kinda a lot of dialogue in this (it simply adds to their relationship🫶🏽

you both peer at each other when the clump of red lights became all too real. the car stops, and you both wallow in frustration. you cave first, irritated only because of your lack of patience. somehow, someway geto would have to make up for his sluggish behavior. 

“it’s your fault we’re stuck in traffic you know,” you then extend your lips to your window and turn your head towards the center of the car slightly so you can turn the music up, “if you’d let me do your hair yesterday we would’ve been fine.”

“now we’re super la-”

“shut up.” he retorts. he wraps both of his fists around the wheel and circles them around the diameter of it. his fingers, decorated with a plethora of rings scrape the suede. when they meet at the bottom; his body slumps forward and his forehead bonks the horn. ultimately making it sound off, and forcing the car in front of you to retaliate. beeping theirs twice and throwing up the lovely bird outside their window. 

“you should’ve just done it.” he continued on, ignoring the altercation before.

you turn in your seat, angrily perplexed. first, he cut you off, and second of all, it was to shut you up! over his stupid head of hair? outrageous!

“and how was i supposed to do that, huh big guy?,” you cocked your eyebrow and got in his face quickly. all he saw was a red blob zip across the middle console; he swears he saw little flakes of glitter fall from your eyelids as you shifted. 

“if you weren’t whining and moaning like a bitch yesterday, your hair could’ve been done.” 

“i was not,” he finally looks at you and squints his eyes in disbelief, “maybe grunting, but it’s cause you were hurting me!” 

“i was only parting your hair geto!” your mouth hung open as you stared at him in utter disbelief. 

‘you might wanna move up though’, you tilt your head to the right so he’d see the point five millimeters of space that opened between his hood and the trunk of the other. 

‘ope, thanks bae’

‘anyways’ “it still hurt!” he frowns and rubs soothing circles against his cranium in remembrance of the pain. 

if there was one thing about the two of you, one common similarity that never failed to shine; it was the way you two interacted. both overly animated and always working the other’s nerves. 

“but i was being gentle!” you feign a sniffle and peer at him above the rim of your glasses. “i was being as gentle as possible,” you whine, softly and make a giant heart out of your arms. 

“why would i try and hurt you?” 

“why wouldn’t you?” he smirks and runs his hands through his hair as he lets his left one situate at the bottom left of the steering wheel. he spreads his legs and moves his seat back to get comfy, because even though the content banter keeps him on his toes; he realizes you two would be stuck in this traffic for a while. 

“fuck you,” you suck your teeth and rotate your body away from his. your knees knock against the car door and you slip your hands in between your thighs. he yanks at the red fishnets you have on, so it softly slaps back against your skin — he does it repeatedly. 

“what time?” he coos back, sweetly. he licks his lips with a low gaze as he waits for you to spin back around to- 

“you’re such a child you know that?” you spin around, nearly dizzy from the number of times you’ve refocused your attention. your brain’s practically on its stem knocking against your skull initiating a subtle throb. 

“no, i’m not.” 

“mhm, that’s why you’re on my naughty list.” your lips curl into a smile, and you boop his nose with the tip of your finger. you place your elbow on the center space to get closer to him. naughty list, the fuck?

“you don’t have a naughty list, that’s my job. i’m the one with the santa hat and red tuxedo.” he does have some sort of a valid point. he looks a little goofy with his hat, but it doesn’t hide his handsome face features. his smile is stretched wide across his face, as he levels his face with yours on the console and squeezes your cheek.  

“owwwaa!” you yelp out and rub your cheek. “i-look at you being naughty! i thought santa was supposed to be nice.”

“well his partner is being a bit naughty.” his face inches closer to yours — treading upon dangerous waters. 

“your partner doesn’t agree with that statement.” 

then you move closer.

‘move up again’ 

he shifted his car out of park and lightly tapped the gas to decrease the gap. as quickly as he shifted gears and pulled up; he reversed his actions. ‘thanks’

“mmm, maybe his partner should, considering i can smell the alcohol on their lips.”

now he’s close enough to smell the mix of peppermint and fireball? no, no you have some class. it’s jack daniels — tennessee fire, chased with apple juice and peppermints to rid the smell. along with a pop of peppermint lip gloss. 

“yeah? you know i don’t go to parties sober — ever. i admire you for being able to.” you squeeze his cheeks and let your lips brush against his as your eyes shift to the back seat. then back to him, then down to his crotch, and your stare lingers for too long because he asks— 

“something caught your eye?” he looks to the back seat. “no.” 

he uses two fingers to lift your chin. “you wanna go to the back?” 

“feeling hot? that’s why you’re being slick out the mouth huh?” he squeezes your cheeks and kisses your lips. “n-no.” you stutter. your tongue feels oddly heavy in your mouth. it’s enough to make you slur a few slick remarks under your breath. 

but before you knew it, geto was coaxing you to the back of the car while he drove to the shoulder and flicked on his hazard lights. all while rubbing and patting your ass as you slipped through the tiny slot to the back. anxious and ready to feel some relief. the constant banter and the light thoughts in your brain left you impatient and horny. 

it took a lot more work for him to get to the back. he tried to slip back there with some grace, but he was bumping everything, shaking the car and leaving his santa hat in the front as it slid off from his head dragging along the roof of the car. even the little bit of eco gel he used to slick his hair down was useless as strands stood up and fell along his face on his adventure to the back seat.

“easy peasy.” he gloated as he caught his breath. 

“you’ve got some liner on your cheek… and on the back of your seat.” you laugh innocently, and he uses the back of his hand to wipe the black pigment of his skin. “i wonder why.” he rolled his eyes. 

“i didn’t tell you to kiss me.” you answered back with that usual influx in your tone — as if you were pressed that he did. “i didn’t tell you to look so fucking good either, it looks like we both don’t know how to ask for permission.” he shrugs his shoulders and starts unbuttoning the ruby red of his tuxedo jacket.

“especially you.”

he peers into your eyes with intent — the intent of murder is right on his mind. and his “murderous” intent was always handled sexually. the slant of his eyes makes you burn under his gaze. his eyes are dark and unwavering; scary but inviting. 

“you don’t scare me.” you begin stretching out your legs; chubby extremities, that lead down to chubby feet. you wiggle your toes as your back slips down the door; inching your feet closer to his groin. he obviously wants you to touch him. his legs are spread. one foot is anchored down into the seat, and the other dangles on the ground, because there definitely isn’t enough space for the two of you in the back. 

but for these circumstances, it’s more than enough space. 

your foot finally reaches its goal. during this “staring” contest you rub your foot along the hardening, gift of god, in his pants. your press your foot against his dick, and use your toes to “stroke” it to the best of your ability. he’s trying not to break, but the amount of pressure you're exerting from that little foot of yours — just to give him some pleasure is working. it’s working wonders. 

you’re cracking his attempt at being stoic. you can’t see it, but he’s gritting his teeth. sliding the molars back and forth as if he’s trying to relieve the pain of sore gums. he’s on the stand, trying to plead the fifth, but he fails miserably. his hips buck up, and he grunts a small “shit.”

“what was that, baby.” you gaze with soft eyes. soft, wet eyes, that never fail to make geto wish he had stronger resolve. your head tilts to the side as you try to put your finger on it.

“you’re hearing things,” he replies — stone-faced, but his hands reach out to massage the soles of your feet. geto’s fingers slip and tug at the lacy material, it stretches due to eager fingers. he runs them along the thin black stockings that you wore underneath them, and he fondles what little of your skin he can feel. touching you is his sanctuary. 

“mhm? i can hear just fine, i just can’t see all that well.” you point to the big square frames that settle on the plumpness of your cheeks. 

“but can you unbutton these for me?” you ask so politely and direct his fingers with your toes. you rub at the space that hides the button and zipper that fasten his pants together. it’s straight warmth across your foot as you massage his bulge with your foot.  

“and can you spread your legs for me?” he pleads almost as his fingers work to free himself from his pants. “that’s a simple request.” 

the ruffles of your red mini skirt flip up with ease, and you spread your legs just as he asks. you throw your left leg, up and over the headrest of the back seat, but not before dragging it over his thighs. your foot arches as he catches it in his palms, and caresses the souls of them. he’s careful and his moves have been calculated with the utmost precision. 

he can’t feel the heat pooling in between your thighs, but you can feel how warm it is and the cool air fanning the interior gives you some relief. “it’s a shame, but i’m gonna need to make a little slit in these.” 

he pulls at the fabric once more and moves his body to meet yours in the middle. this interaction requires more effort on suguru’s part, because, like always you make him work for it. even though you want it just as badly. 

truly, you want it more “su… these are my favorite you know.” he’s not listening; were you even talking at this point? just babbling nonsense. he’s inching closer. closer. and closer till his hands are situated in between your legs. the decision he’s considering is whether he should stuff his hands in your stockings, or just rip a perfect little slit, so he can sink a finger inside. 

“there my favorite too, doll.” 

as always the latter wins. it fulfills his fantasy in a better way, a better execution. so he defies you. he gets to splitting the stockings right where nobody can see them, but him. 

when he finally sees skin, he’s losing his composure. stars, hearts, and pearls cloud his vision when he sees the wetness situated between your folds. he separates them with his fingers and slips just one finger between them. from the entrance up to your clit; he’s covering his finger in all that slick. all while maintaining eye contact. entrancing you with his eyes. 

making you squeeze your hands together, and knit your brows when he massages your clit. a smooth ooh, baby — right there you coo. “i know, i know.”  he soothes. 

he blows strands of hair out of his face and licks his lips when he sees your expression. fucked out eyes, and ragged breaths. each whisk of his finger against your clit, forces constricted labored breaths. hazy eyes, and more of your arousal leaks onto his leather seats. 

“you’re so beautiful.” he whispers.

“mmph,” you squeeze your eyes shit when he pushes his finger harder against your clit, “i-thank you.” you sigh. 

“now i need you to do something for me.” he begins. you can barely tell that his lips are moving, but you nod your head and hum a short response. “i want you to play with yourself for me while i help you. can you do that for me?”

“yes.” 

“thank you, baby.” 

once he pulls his finger back, a thick coat of arousal sticks to his fingers. creating a connection that he snips when his tongue wraps around the digit. he lets it settle on his tongue, and gets closer so he can steal a kiss. a simple, slow, lazy kiss that grants you a taste. sweet and simple. you moan into his mouth sucking every bit of you off his tongue. ’s good, honey’

like clockwork, your fingers drop to the mess in between your legs, and suguru indulges in the feeling of his hand and your foot caressing his dick. just a few pumps and he’s stuffing his fingers back inside of you for some lube. taking it and smearing your sweet mess all over his tip. giving himself lazy, slow strokes while your toes parted to compensate for his girth. 

he shuddered from the mesh pattern stroking at the thick vein that bulged from the base of his cock all the way up to his frenulum. it felt heavenly. his adam’s apple bobs with each gulp he takes. the pleasure spirals up to his brain; nearly clouding his thoughts.

“geto, are you gonna tell me what to do?” you reel him back to his senses. 

“yeah-fuck, just one finger first,” he instructed. you listened obediently; rubbing your middle finger innocently between your folds before you sunk it in. slowly, perfectly slow until you stuffed yourself full with it. you squeaked out in pleasure and embarrassment. his eyes bored into the space between your legs. stuck like glue, transfixed on how perfect you looked when you played with yourself. 

but embarrassment flooded your senses. your thighs slowly pressed together in an attempt to shield yourself. geto was aware that at some point your resolve would crumble. you couldn’t take it. mutual anything tore you apart. you tried to focus. you really tried to the best of your abilities. 

yet, seeing the beads of pre cum trickle from his tip made you hot. seeing how tight of a grip he held around his dick made you ache and squeeze around your finger, and here he was planning mutual enjoyment, and you couldn’t tell who was enjoying it more. who was licking their lips more, grunting more? it wasn’t fair how much of you he could see. 

it was geto who was more fixated on the way your fingers drove in and out of your pussy. the squelching and thick drops of arousal that splashed on his seats were rewarding enough. he tuts, squinting his eyes and reaching forward when they hide your cunt from his gaze.

geto’s hand wrap around the plushness of your thighs, “don’t be embarrassed, keep them, open baby. i want to see everything.” his fingers dig into the plush of them, turning the tips white. a smile tugs at his lips when you yelp out in pain. but you feel yourself clench from the simple action of control.   

he took the opportunity to spread them again, and this time he used his dangling foot to hold yours down. leading his foot over your calf and locking it under your thigh — fair restraint. keeping them entangled ensures that you can't snap them close no matter how badly you try. 

“s-sorry.” you muttered. now slightly embarrassed that he crept even closer towards you in this cramped back seat. 

“instead of apologizing why don’t you just make yourself cum. can i see how pretty you look when you cum?” 

his features turn soft. he gazes with soft, pleading eyes and hunches over to run kisses all along your covered thighs. nothing else sounds better than your soft submission of, “yes, i can.” 

“put another finger in, okay?” 

“and go slow, like this-“ he wraps his thumb and index around his cock to show you how he’d like you to do it. he ruts his dick into the circle he forms and glides it through at a snail's pace. “this slow okay,” he points his head towards you; indicating the start of your demonstration, “show me.” 

“slow like this?” you relax around your finger, and slip your ring finger in. “just like that.” he affirms. “good job, baby,” he lifts the foot you had wrapped around the back headrest, and brings it to his face. “match my pace.” he hums. 

he kisses the sole of it, and urges you on; making sure each of your moves punctuates at the same time. quiet affirmations slip off his tongue as he watches you, i love watching you play with your pussy, baby

“thank you, thank you.” you moan 

you know i love it when you're good to me. 

“you ‘bout to cum?” he asks. it’s a question he knows the answer to. instead of fucking yourself with your fingers, you’re rolling your hips against them. panting and groaning for release. going a little bit faster than the pace geto had set for you both. he was waiting for it, because he wanted you to cum first. he was painfully close to his release, a white glob of cum slowly dripped out of his tip, and he bit his lip to hold it in. 

the glob falls on his index finger, and he brings it to your attention. “look at what you did.” he lets go of your leg and reaches out to cradle your head against his. 

“yeah?” you groan. 

your foreheads press together and he circles his index around your clit. he smears his cum over your clit, and applies enough pressure to make your legs shake. he tilts his head further down and drops a fat wad of spit on it, and when he guides it the wet sound increases. sticky and cumbersome; loud like the gentle smacking of puckered lips. 

you draw your head back and let it fall against the car window. your legs twitch and your body slumps against the door, as a deep groan travels up from your chest all the way to your throat. you’d been holding your breath chasing your release, and all you needed to topple over was geto’s help in rubbing it out. 

“you did so well.” he smiles and kisses you all over. your cheeks, nose, and even your sweaty forehead. he moves your underwear back over your pussy and pats it, then he tries to reassemble the stocking and make the slit as invisible as possible. 

he stuffs himself back in pants suit with great difficulty and sets his sights on the driver's seat. his hair is a fucking mess, but he places the santa hat right back on its temple. he gives you a stupid smile from the front seat, but you look gloomy. 

“you didn’t cum.” you pout. 

“it’s okay,” he reaches back to cradle your face, and kisses your plump, tear-stained cheeks. “when we get home, i’ll fuck you just how i please.”  

“so? do we really need to go to this party?” he flips his indicator on and slowly merges into the thinning traffic. 

“well…we’re already late, so we don’t really have to. you lay back in the backseat, and give him a thumbs-up,

“perfect.” 

tagging: @blkcupid @artemisthestar @venusflytrapstar @sirenh4ll @si00p @444yeager @rayemelanin @privateparty3 @chosoguapo @getosbunny

#sin writes ೃ #geto x black reader #geto smut #geto x reader smut #geto x reader #geto suguru #geto suguru x reader #geto x black!reader #jjk smut

[writerpetals]

the client | 🔞

; optional male lead smut |  ☁️

w; sex work, pantyjob

The smell of burning wax fills your nose in the form of vanilla scented candles the moment you step foot into the suite. Your heels click against the marble floors until your feet touch its cold surface after slipping out of the red, suede straps, sending a chill through your entire body, but you know it’s mostly due to excitement. Your coat follows with a shrug of your shoulders to rid your body of the leather hiding the black, silk lingerie you were instructed to wear beneath.

Your client for the evening is only a few steps away, settled in a comfortable chair with his sights hindered by a blindfold to protect your identity, and thanks to his heavy breaths, you’re well aware it’s his first time.

You call for him, voice lowering to a sultry invitation as you fill the gap between the two of you, making your way to his half naked body waiting on your command.

“Y-yes?” He gulps a second before a smirk appears on your lips.

You love first timers. It took you awhile to get used to them after starting with the company you work for, knowing their nerves only fueled your own, but once you adjusted to performing favors of sinful acts you’ve mostly never heard of for wealthy clients in an exchange of money, the ones with no experience grew to excite you. Maybe it’s the power they give you, loving the control of bossing customers around that were “big dogs” in the regular world, feeding their deepest, darkest desires and getting them off. If the world only knew what desperate, vulnerable men they turned into the moment you pressed a few of their touchiest buttons, taking them to heights they’ve never gone to before.

“First time?” you ask regardless if you know the answer. From the gulping. From his trembling, full lips. From the sweat beading on his forehead. He’s nervous, yet the sound of your voice earns a tent in his thin boxer-briefs that sends adrenaline rushing through your veins. “Don’t be nervous. You paid a lot of money to have me. Let’s have fun.”

You swear you can see his muscles ease the tension the moment your fingers glide over his bare shoulder, with a sharp inhale following as his head falls against the chair. He’s handsome, you’ll give him that. With soft skin, a sharp jaw, and his cologne mixing with the vanilla candles to warm your body to the core.

“To be honest, I’ve never heard of such an act before, wondering how it could get you off.” Your voice lowers as you lean into him, placing a knee on each side of him to press into the thick, leather chair. His body tenses once again, causing you to drag your fingertips across his chest to relax him. He settles beneath the touch. “And if I’m being honest, the idea intrigues me quite a bit.”

“It does?” His deep, raspy voice wavers, but you can tell he’s gaining confidence, anticipating the moment you lower yourself onto him to meet his body. “I-I wasn’t sure if—”

“Baby,” you interrupt, leaning close enough that your lips brush over his ear to whisper, “don’t worry. I’m going to make you feel so good, just trust me.”

He gulps again once your lips press to his jaw, trailing soft kisses just before reaching his lips. With anticipation growing, he releases a subtle, yet deep groan from his chest that vibrates your fingers pressed to his skin. You can tell he’s eager to get started, yet you’re in no hurry, knowing the company likes for you to take your time and allow the client to get their money’s worth. With someone like him, it’s hard to mind spending those extra, small but meaningful moments with him.

“Are you aware of the rules?” you ask, if only to make sure. You know the company made him sign the contract, make the payment, promising to abide by the ever long list of rules to keep the two of you safe and the business hush hush, but it never hurts to check just to make sure you’re both on the same page. It wouldn’t be the first time someone thought even the simplest of rules didn’t apply to them, but you typically don’t have to worry about such things with first-timers. “You can touch, but no grabbing, holding, or leaving marks. Understood?”

You’re confident he isn’t much of a rule breaker, but you give him the rundown just to make sure. If anything were to happen, the bodyguards watching from the other room thanks to tiny cameras installed in each corner would barge in, much to his surprise. Luckily for you, the most action they ever get is watching you and a few other employees perform on nights like tonight, but it suits them just fine. As well as you. You’ve always liked an audience. It’s what makes the job so easy, other than the hefty paychecks that allow you to pay rent on time.

“I understand,” he assures you, with his hands resting against the arms of the chair and his fingers itching to feel your skin against his. “But can I… can I kiss you?”

You pause for a moment, the question catching you off guard, before you cover the slight hesitation with a light chuckle. “You’re sweet.” A moment later your fingers are running down his chest, brushing over his stomach to feel him tense beneath your touch until the second you grip the hem of his boxers. Your fingers hook into the band, urging the fabric down with assistance from him as his hardened cock springs free and your eyes instantly take in the sight.

He bites down on his bottom lip, anticipating your every move a second before your fingers wrap around his girth, earning his hands on your hips and his jaw to fall open with another groan. Slipping your grip to his swollen, reddened tip, a hiss spills from his parted lips, then your palm slides back down his length as his hips push forward into your grasp.

“Eager, aren't we?” A chuckle follows the question, watching him struggle to form an answer, yet you only receive a slight nod as you repeat the motion. You can’t pull your eyes away from his face, watching his brow crease and his tongue swipe over his lips again. You sometimes wonder how exhilarating it must be to have someone pleasure you that you have never seen before, feeling their hands on your body while your sight remains hindered, relying on your other senses in the moment. The swipe of your soft skin against his own, the smell of your perfume, the sound of a sultry, intoxicating voice filling his ears must have his head spinning and his cock aching, and it makes your heart race at the thought. “So, how do you like it?”

“H-huh?” he struggles again to reply, too focused on the lazy way you drag your palm up and down his length.

“Cowgirl? Reverse cowgirl? With you on top?” You give him options, but he hesitates. Only a few seconds pass before it clicks, allowing you to realize the reason. “I see…” He has never had anyone to act out his fantasies on, which only challenges you to come up with something on your own.

After a moment of debating to yourself, you finally lower your hips toward him, feeling his grip tighten against your hips just a bit, though you don’t mind. Your thighs part for him, pressing your center against his cock to feel the silk over his swollen, throbbing flesh so eager to be touched. You hold still, drawing out the moment to make his cock twitch against you for release, all before beginning to rock your hips softly back and forth.

As you do, the silk panties glide over his cock, earning a hiss followed by a few curses to fill your ears. You can’t help but to smirk as his fantasies come to life, giving you all the more power because you’re the one making them come true. Your palms press to his shoulders to offer stability as your hips roll against his body, and if you were being honest with yourself, the deep groans he begins to release are warming you up just the same.

“God, that feels so fucking good,” he curses beneath his breath, a chill running up your spine thanks to the praise, “just like that.” You press into him, applying pressure to his cock leaking with a few drips over the tip to soak into your panties, and you can’t help but to feel the warmth flooding between your thighs to have your own arousal pooling at your entrance.

Your pace quickens as you grind your folds against him, earning a few twitches of his hips in return each time you slip toward the head of his cock. The sinful groans and curses begin to drive you wild, yet you try to ignore the bubbling in the pit of your stomach from listening to him tell you just how good you’re making him feel. You try your best to keep your focus, easing the silk over his cock to get him off, to make him weak and vulnerable, to make him come, yet with the friction the position offers, a few soft moans slip from your lips as well.

It’s just a job to you. The thought crosses your mind again and again, and normally clients don’t give you the time, or effort, to get yourself off, leaving you a mess of frustrations. Yet, his hands on your hips, guiding you to grind against him faster, harder, rougher, only allow your clit to press against his cock as the silk slips against your folds just the same.

You can’t deny the bliss that fills your body. Punishments weigh in the back of your mind if anyone were to find out you weren’t giving every ounce of your attention to your client, yet in the moment it’s hard to care over a cut in pay or the possibility of losing a client, and it becomes hard to stop yourself. Grinding your clit against him has you lost in the moment, legs beginning to quiver as his fingers press into your hips harder, head falling back, curses pouring from your lips.

Yet, his nails beginning to press to your flesh pulls you out of your state of bliss, snapping you back to reality in an instance before pushing his grip from your body. With your hips slowing a moment later, he releases a huff as if he were about to lose his mind if you kept up the motions any longer.

You want the moment to last, not knowing why it’s easy to get carried away with him, yet knowing you can’t let the moment end just yet.Maybe it’s his vulnerability or lack of experience in realizing his own fantasies, but you’re drawn to him. Reaching between the two of you, you slip the black silk to the side, enough to ease his cock between your folds before adjusting the panties back in their place. You bite your lip not to gasp at the feeling of his cock pressed to your flesh, trapped by tight fabric holding him in place. You nearly lose your mind just as he did the moment you begin to rock your hips once again.

Juices dripping from your center making it effortless to slip back and forth over his cock, and with your arousal coating his flesh on the underside, and your silk panties caressing him on the other, he doesn’t hold back any longer. He reaches for you, but you’re quick to grip him by his wrists, pinning his hands next to his head against the leather seat, making sure he doesn’t leave marks to have either of you disciplined later. It would be a shame if he weren’t allowed to request you again over a simple mistake.

You continue grinding against him, clit pressing to his cock to earn goosebumps flooding your skin, yet you take long, deep breaths to keep your composure. Focusing on him and nothing but him, you keep your gaze locked on his face to concentrate, studying the curve of his lips as you thrust forward, outlining the shape of his nose once you pull away.

The noises begin to flood your ears once again, deep groans, heavy exhales, him telling you how fucking good you feel, how fucking wet you are, yet it’s only a distraction as you feel the bliss swelling inside of you once again. You can’t stop yourself when your hips increase their pace, rolling against him to offer the both of you relief, clit swelling with a need for release as you feel his cock twitch between your thighs once a few moans fill the room.

Your grip on his wrists tightens, nails digging into his skin because there’s no rule about leaving marks on him. In some cases, clients enjoy the souvenirs until the next time you meet. Maybe you’re getting angry at the fact that being with him feels so damn good, so you take it out on him. You can’t help yourself, not wanting to get lost in the moment, not wanting to lose yourself to pleasure, yet it finds a way to consume you both.

He can feel your thighs shaking around him, giving him the courage to pump his hips a few times to catch you off guard. Gasping, your back arches and your head falls back, continuing to move your hips over his cock, continuing to use him to find release with your clit caressing his flesh, and continuing to give him the service he paid for with your black, silk panties offering friction as his cock rests between your folds and the fabric.

“Fuck,” you whimper, entire body tingling, trembling, yearning for the last little push to send you over the edge, “I-I’m gonna fucking come.” And it’s not a warning your clients often hear due to this being nothing but a job, yet you can’t stop the words before they’re spilling out.

“Come…,” he begins to mutter, so breathless and he’s losing courage, but he’s trying to keep up, “come on my cock, p-please. I wanna feel you come.” His words send a rush of electricity through your body, out to every tingling limb and curled toe, and you can do nothing but lose the last shred of control you are holding onto.

A gasp hits his ears a second before your body falls limp against his own, and you’re shaking as the first hint of bliss begins to course through you. You ride out the pleasure against his cock, yet your hips have slowed, but it’s enough to have you whimpering his name one last time.

And he can finally take hold of your body, wrapping his arms around you as he begins to thrust from below, fucking himself between your soaked folds and silk panties as groans fill the air. After a few moments, you grow completely weak, allowing him to take control for the first time, allowing him to hold onto you, allowing him to use you to get off until the moment a sharp inhale fills your ears and he’s releasing inside of your panties.

Thick ropes of white spill from the hem of your panties, soaking through the fabric and coating your flesh and even his own. His breath stalls for a moment before he releases a relieved exhale, head falling back as his hips attempt to keep thrusting, yet he’s lost all momentum as the pleasure takes hold of him.

When you finally pull away from him,  you take one look at his parted lips releasing soft breaths until he regains his composure. He seems content, yet the embarrassment and guilt is flooding you for being so greedy, so selfish because you were thinking of your own pleasure over his. If anything, you can blame it on him and the way he breathlessly begged for your own pleasure, for you to come. As long as no one was harmed in the process, you can’t imagine it being a huge deal as you ease yourself off of him to make your way to the bathroom connected to the suite.

You hear his voice calling for you, probably curious of where you went to as you turn on the warm water to rush a fresh washcloth beneath the stream. You take your time cleaning your soiled body after tossing your panties to the side, lucky enough the crew to take care of the messes once the two you leave will handle everything else, just like they set up the room with candles, chairs, and blindfolds to begin with. At your request, you spot the fresh pair of panties resting near the sink they provided for you, though the white cotton isn’t nearly as enticing, even if it’s more comfortable.  

You leave the bathroom to make your way back to him with a clean, damp washcloth in hand. Sometimes the clients don’t wish for you to clean up after them. It’s typically the more experienced ones that only want to get off before they run back to their families and pretend like they didn’t just pay for your services, but since it’s his first time, you hope he won’t mind.

“I’m going to clean you up,” you tell him, kneeling before his frame still settled in the chair, skin glistening with a thin layer of sweat beneath the pale lighting. He nods to give you permission, and you begin by cleaning the few drops of his release left on his stomach before reaching to other places.

“Can I… can I ask you a question?” His voice is low, but the words have your heart skipping a beat.

“Sure,” you tell him as you run the cloth over his skin, and he relaxes beneath the way you care for him in the moment. “As long as it’s not my name, or phone number, address, basically anything that would tell you who I am.”

He grins, and you bite your lip to keep from chuckling. “So you get to know me, my name and place of employment as well as my personal and sexual history, but I can’t even know your name?”

“That’s to keep us both safe.” You sigh once you’re finished cleaning up the mess the two of you made, searching the floor until you find his boxers to toss into his lap. “What’s your question?”

“Can I see you?”

“Well, now that we have had our first session, you know how to book me. You can request—”

“No, I mean your face?” He licks his lips, pausing for a moment. “Will I ever get to?”

You narrow your eyes as you wonder if he’s asking because he wants to, or he wishes to keep up the mystery for the sake of his pleasure. Grinning, you lean closer to rest your hands on the chair, whispering in his ear, “that’s only for special, privileged clients. So I guess we’ll see.”

The blindfolds are for new clients, mostly. The company wanted a way to keep creeps from pursuing employees after the sessions were over, not wanting anyone to be recognized outside of hotel suite rendezvous, but he doesn’t need to know that. If you’re being honest with yourself, he doesn’t need to know most of what you told him, but you decide you like him, so you’ll humor him and his questions.

“One more question,” he insists to have you smirking as you make your way to where you left your coat and heels. “Can I kiss you?”

It seems as though his confidence has returned now that his cock isn’t in your hand or your panties, and the question earns a chuckle as you wrap your coat around your body and slip your heels on your feet.

“Like I said,” you begin to speak over your shoulder, one hand on the door, “you know how to book me.”

#bts smut #marvel smut #call of duty smut #twilight smut #harry potter smut #jungkook smut #loki smut #nct smut #got7 smut #monsta x smut #stray kids smut #harry styles smut #ghost smut #jimin smut #taehyung smut #x reader #x reader smut

[heli0s-writes]

You’re Toxic, I’m Slipping Under

Summary: He bristles, offended. And you try, with as much dignity as you can muster after the last two hours of being fucked blind, to not look so smug about it. “See you next week,” he hums.

A/n: To celebrate Glass Onion coming out, here’s ol’ boy Ransom because I hate him so much :) 4.1k words. Warnings: Smut; mild degradation, spitting, daddy kink; classism; Mind Games with Ransom Hour etc. etc. Please stop reading if you’re not 18+

Your whole apartment building seems to rattle when he arrives thirty minutes late. Like raucous fanfare to announce his appearance, the door slams shut, the latch clicks loudly, and then you hear his heavy footsteps pounding up the stairs.

His shoes are still on—of course they are—stomping your floorboards and dragging in dirt. You can practically see them, the usual suede loafers switched out for leather boots with the late fall chill, and probably mud-caked because he’s thankless like that.

With your attention still on your laptop, already irritated because you’ve been attempting a paper that’s only chased its tail for the last three hours, you ask, “Did you misplace your watch, Ransom?”

Turning, you show him you’re the screen reading 8:32 and blink pointedly, “Is that a yes?”

“Don’t be smart,” he snaps back. “You know I don’t like that.”

Your head’s been a mess of fog, body tense and frustrated for days, and although you’ve always prided yourself on tact and grace—patient like a saint—Ransom manages to bring out the worst. You hiss, “Take your damn shoes off, you know I don’t like that.”

You watch mutely as he does so, not without a sneer here, a shitty comment there. He takes three long steps and plops himself on your bed, hands curling into the quilt, thumbs brushing over the patchwork fabric disparagingly. He pinches a loose thread and begins to pull, tugging slowly at first, and then finding joy in unraveling a line of stitching until nearly three inches rip apart.

“I always thought you needed to replace this thing.” He twirls the string disdainfully, “It’s ugly as sin.”

He pretends he doesn’t know how you obviously love this quilt—handstitched and affectionately made, your damn initials are embroidered into the corner, after all. He’s made a game of testing your patience, gleefully punching at every button as he tries to get you to snap.

Ransom Drysdale Thrombey. You’d met him at one of the Thrombey’s family… functions. Dysfunction, you’d muttered under your breath when Walt beat his cane against the floor in a drunken tirade and Meg ran out back to wolf down a pot cookie that she was supposed to be saving for later.

She was on the cusp of a panic attack, words tumbling out like a car crash, her hand in her beret, then hair, then trembling over her maroon-painted lips.

“God, I’m so sorry— I thought we could just make a pit stop before heading out. The food’s always catered and really good— god… it’s a fucking mess.”

You waved her off because it’s not like you haven’t witnessed at least one aunt having a meltdown during holiday dinner before— family’s just like that—and tried to placate her with, “Can’t be worse than the cousin who asked if we’d be scissoring later.”

Meg’s face twisted in disgust. “Ugh, ew! Fucking Jacob! He’s a skeezy little incel— I swear he’s a moderator on one of those internet forums where they post revenge porn and upskirt vids— honestly, he was adorable two years ago. Then I guess he went through puberty and got radicalized on Youtube.”

You paused as she lit a cigarette and inhaled furiously before realizing that the two of you were thinking of two entirely different cousins.

“I meant the big one, Meg. This one went through puberty twenty years ago.”

“Ew, Ransom,” Meg frowned, “That’s even worse.”

“Ransom? What is he, a Disney villain?”

Leaves crunched behind your back and Meg looked up from flicking ash into the yard toward the sound.

“Let’s be honest, I’ve got the face of a leading man.”

Meg blew smoke at him, as if the fumes were enough to threaten his sensibilities. You figured not, he looked like a cigar smoker anyway—one of those guys who’d dedicate a whole room in their house with the humidity just right to keep them fresh. Rich people shit.

“Go away, Ransom,” she said, to clarify.

“I don’t recall addressing you, Megan.” He took a drawn-out look, lips pursing in scrutiny before lifting a brow, making a real goddamn show about it. “Okay,” he said, “I’ll bite. 400 on the dresser for an hour; you can get yourself something nice.”

You’re still not sure what it was about either your attire or attitude that allowed him to conjure up such an offer.

Maybe it was your shitty jeans and your sweater from freshman year orientation. Maybe you looked like an easy mark to tear down.

His audacity shocked out a laugh from you—a loud, abrupt guffaw that eased Meg enough for her to dip back inside to grab more from her stash. And when she was out of sight, focused on rummaging in the old clock, you responded, “Yeah, okay. I’ll bite back.”

Maybe it was an act of rebellion against your background in contrast to all this excess. The bitter aftertaste of eating bottom shelf food out of necessity for weeks at a time—those awful chicken bouillon packets and dried blocks of instant noodles your first year of college. No one paid for your schooling or housing so learning to balance an over-abundance of classes and a job because you needed to graduate early, needed to spend less money on tuition, meant that you were working yourself to death.

If Youtube radicalized Jacob, then habitually sleeping three hours a night in the campus library and skipping meals to afford textbooks while men like Ransom crashed Maserati’s for fun radicalized you.

So, sure. Game on.

He picked you up the following weekend without anyone knowing and took you somewhere expensive. It was a whirlwind of exorbitant dinners and being quietly sneered at down the straight line of his tall nose bridge. The front door to his bachelor pad shutting but not bothered with locking. Falling into the thousand-count Egyptian cotton bedsheets naked, the skylight’s beam spilling like gold-flecked champagne.

You promised yourself it meant nothing. Just an experiment of unbridled spite. If he wanted to throw money at you, hell, that’s his problem. If he wanted to fuck you, well, you’d give him the best fuck of his life— let him see that despite wealth, at the end of the day, he was flesh and blood trembling for the right stroke.

And sure, he trembled, but it was your mistake to pare it down so simply.

Ransom juggled fuck buddies much longer than you’d been fucking at all. He knew it was best with the right amount of emotion involved. Just enough to yearn. If he laid roses at your feet, kissed your knees featherlight and worked his way up to your jaw, cradled the back of your head, nosed the pulse of your wrist, your collarbones, asked for your eyes on him, and panted the lightest breath of your name at the edge of it all—now who’s fucking who over, sweetheart?

You were out of your depth. He was powerful, older, and more experienced. He touched you in ways that emulated affection—that brought fire and danger. His hands were large and callused at the juncture of his fingers. His pretty mouth was pink, wet, kissed greedy. His sharp eyes took everything in.

But, as you predicted, his moods soon volleyed in every direction as consequence of never being told no, and once the novelty of crazy hot—often angry—sex grew stale, you crashed back down to earth burned out. You ghosted.

“You’re, what…” he called through the door the week after you texted that it was both too much and not enough to carry on with, “breaking up with me? Seriously. This is a fucking joke.”

And you could have practically seen it—how his bottom lip would jut out as his incisors crossed, how his brows would sink when he got angry. He was never belligerent, only calculating.

You told him to leave, and he did, after a single loud kick to the frame, because he’s never begged for anything, and he wasn’t going to start.

The guilt came afterwards, with the bouquet of roses on the doormat, petals scattered around because he’d slammed them down after being ignored again and again, and you swept them inside to throw into a vase next to the three other vases with flowers in various degrees of wilted.

“Breaking up” prickled complicatedly in the middle of your chest, because despite the many shows of affection, you knew you weren’t exactly breaking up. You had never really been with him anyway. People aren’t… with Ransom. They’re towed along by Ransom, dragged by their hair by Ransom. Played with by Ransom until he inevitably gets bored.

It devolved into needless melodrama. Weekly episodes of a teen show with grandiose gestures of toxic relationships perceived as romance. Ransom’s habit of whisking you away, fucking you senseless, turning around to fight with you about any-goddamn-thing he pleased. Dropping off flowers and champagne. Restarting the whole process.

It wasn’t healthy—isn’t healthy, probably, according to most therapists—since he’s here, present-day, in your room, beginning to undress.

You fiddle with the sleeves at your elbows, thumbing cool satin before advancing, arms subconsciously crossed.

He’s only in his underwear now. A pair of nondescript gray boxer briefs fitted on his muscular thighs, taut as he leans back on his palms. He slowly spreads his legs, inviting you between them. His lips purse when you stand passively, knee brushing his bulge, hands resting over his shoulders. He’s warm.

One palm caresses your lower back and the other on himself, gliding up and down. His lids are half open, voice low, “You miss this?”

“No,” which is a lie. You missed it when evenings were boring, half-heartedly nodding to some boy’s drivel about campus life, mind wandering to someone who didn’t look freshly 21, didn’t date like it. Didn’t talk themselves up just to get you into bed.

At least Ransom was honest; he always said exactly what he thought, told you exactly when you were pissing him off, how he was going to teach you a lesson—where he wanted you, how he wanted you, and— a chill races up your arms.

He’s downright smug when he notices.

“No? You prefer sloppy frat boys pawing at you like virgins over me? Every time, you think they might fuck right but, well, you’re always disappointed.” He reaches beneath the short hem of the robe, splays his hand out over your thigh and very slowly feels his way up.

Your eyes shutter as he pulls you forward, gripping tightly and massaging up toward your ass. The pit of your belly is tightening, the rest trying to push down being too eager for him all over you, his broad shoulders, his strong hands, how he bends his grasp on your shoulder, fixes you in a perfect curved arch just the way he likes.

Ransom noses the robe out of his path, sinking his teeth lightly down until he scrapes a line over your breastbone, laying his face gently down like a child—like a lover.

“You know,” he begins, taunting again, “You make a… face.” He says it as he trails down beneath the swell of one breast, letting your nipple graze his cheek, before he presses a kiss to your ribcage. Hot like a brand, searing into your belly. And then he bites.

You flinch, hand going to his hair to pull him away. He throws his head back into your grasp, eyes glittering and amused. He quickly works your thighs apart, dipping two fingers between and sinking into your heat.

“There it is,” he chuckles when your eyes flutter, “Yeah... Really gets me off.”

You’re in his lap before you know it, your hold on him fallen off and now scrambling for his wide shoulders to hold yourself steady. He’s got you leaned back on his thighs, hanging off the edge of the bed and perfectly helpless, the only thing planting you even close to secure are your folded knees, your arms around his neck. He’s shushing you, one large hand on the small of your back, the other still working inside your pussy.

He says, “Calm down unless you want to fall,” but it’s goddamn hard when your heart is pounding with equal parts fear and arousal. He’s sucking on your tits, balancing you just precariously enough to thrill, fingering you all the while—like it’s nothing to him, like you’re an object he can manipulate however he pleases.

His cock is erect, flexing against the fabric over his groin, a swell of hard, aching muscle. You want to put your hand around it, feel its girth in your palm, simply hold it because you do fucking miss it. The places he can reach, the ways he spreads you, rocking in and pulling out—how he sometimes settles inside, and then does nothing but watch you squirm.

It’s undeniably gorgeous—and he is too—when you fumble it out after he lays you down and hovers over you with interest. You’re wetting your lips automatically, staring in awe at his thick shaft sprouting from soft, dark, curls, the tip of it smooth and almost purple, swollen up with blood.

“Legs up,” and the way he says it, how he just goes right out and says it, makes you groan.

Boys don’t do that. Too busy in their heads about peacocking and re-enacting the kind of porno where performers wordlessly move into new positions in sync, nothing verbal exchanged but high-pitched shrieking and nasally fuck me’s.

Ransom’s extremely verbal in bed. He easily says, “Look at me. Show me how much you want it,” and flits his eyes between your bodies.  

You do, shivering, sliding two fingers along the sides of your folds, finding yourself aroused and damp, humiliated and incredibly turned on when he grins, simply content with watching. Your thighs are squeezing reflexively, abdomen crunching up trying to keep it together.

But he’s never been patient, and quickly tells you to hold your knees, rock back, make yourself small and exposed, and then he’s delving gently into your hole— thumbs taking turns, coaxing more.

Two fingers tuck in, then another two struggle next to them, and you can’t stop yourself from gasping and crying out at how he pulls apart the walls of your cunt.

The sound of it— sloppy, squelching, a light and hollow kind of noise like a tongue flicking inside an open mouth.

“Look at this pretty pussy.” He tugs a little more, and you wriggle into it, gripping your legs tighter, pulling your knees up, shins toward your burning face to hide.

He descends on your clit, tip of his tongue licking into your stretched hole, purposefully only running against the taut skin around his fingers. “You got a talent, baby,” he murmurs, buzzing. “I could fuck you the whole day, fuck you numb… but give you about half an hour and it’s good as new, tight and perfect.”

There had been marathon rounds of bouncing in his lap between being at each other’s throats, his thighs splitting yours, hands holding you up, nibbling at your ear. Then he’d turn you around, take you to the floor until you collapsed on the bearskin rug, the sweat on your neck and chest rolling into dark furs. Railed you until you were so sensitive anything would make you come; your body unsure if it was considered your own anymore.

Fuck, fight, rinse, and repeat.

“Are you—going to talk all night?” You grunt up to the ceiling, trying to steel yourself from panting or moaning and only barely making it.

“Thought you liked it when I talked.”  His dark head is still between your legs, nose pressed into your skin, licking agonizingly slow with his entire tongue. It’s so warm, and gentle, and assertive. “What, you don’t like being told how good you taste?”

He keeps licking, pushing at the back of your knees when you try to switch positions, holding you in that bent up pose. He’s suckling at your clit when his fingers find their way back inside, easily hooking in three and pumping them smoothly.

“How—” he sucks hard, the shape of his full, plush lips fitted over you making a filthy wet smack, “mmm—I love the taste of your sweet pussy?”

When you come like it’s being ripped out of you, legs shaking around his head, lines of his spit dripping down your ass and onto the sheets, he lets you go with a hard slap on your sex, and you nearly wail.

“That’s my girl,” he says. “Yeah, you missed me, huh? You missed it like this, didn’t you? Tell me.”

“Unnng …” a high whine, “Ransom.”

“I know,” he mumbles, kissing up your belly, your neck, your ear.

He moves into position, entering effortlessly after all his prep work, and the shine of your juice still on his beard is fucking unholy hot. He’s grinning and panting, eyes fluttering briefly as he slides home.

“I know it’s big, baby. But you can take it, you’re gonna take it.” He’s a fraction unfocused, letting himself enjoy how you squeeze around him before he begins to punish.

Jesus, you missed this. Missed the agonizing drag of his shaft that feels like it goes on and on forever. Miss the way you get full of him, miss how it almost hurts.

His hipbones are hitting against yours, a steady fast rhythm because he’s experienced like that. Whereas some others might go faster when you’re close, Ransom stays at the pace that got you there in the first place. If anything, he pushes just a bit harder, makes you listen to the sound of his skin on yours, the choke of your breath he punches out.

You crunch yourself up smaller, toes touching the headboard now. Anything to get him further in.

“Fuck, you’re a slut,” he laughs. “Pretty little slut, god you don’t give it up like this for anyone else, do you?”

There’s not enough sense in you to argue even if you wanted to. The room is swimming, undulating, slipping further and further out of reach as the bed rocks and squeaks in protest. You’re sure you met a very handsome guy at the bar weeks ago but as soon as he started hinting that he was interested and stirred up conversation by asking your major, you left.

It just… wasn’t there. It wasn’t the same. No way in hell.

That boy wouldn’t have done this—wouldn’t be planting one foot on the bed, the other knee still down, enormous hands tight on your hips and crashing in.

You could cry, it feels so goddamn good.

Tears dribble their way out from the corner of your eyes. You turn your face enough to get a breath of fresh air, gulping it in frantically between the drive of Ransom’s cock and the half second he slides out.

You vaguely register his hand moving from your hip to your cheek, knuckles brushing upward.

“Oh,” he sighs, “pretty, pretty girl.” He slows his pace, nearly stilling. You squirm beneath him, inching away from how deep he is inside you, how intimate it feels as he kisses the hollow of your cheek and then toward your brow.

“So sweet for me,” he says, pulsing, making you whine with how he pushes against your sore walls. “Did I make a slut out of you? Huh? Make you stupid for my dick?”

“Make me come,” you say. “Make me—“

“Ask me real nice, baby. Ask daddy to make you come.”

You want to hit him. Kill him.

“No?” He whispers into the sensitive shell of your ear, “You don’t want it?”

You squeeze your eyes shut, embarrassment clawing up your face, but Ransom’s hold is tighter, sharper, and he really is— so fucking right. You want it. And he’s made you a little stupid, so yeah--

“Please make me come, daddy. I wanna come.”

The Cheshire grin that unfurls on his face is more panther than cat. “You wanna come on daddy’s big cock?”

“Yes, daddy,” you admit. “I wanna so bad.”

“Oh, that’s it, baby. You’re a good girl, aren’t you. You put on a little show just for me? Act like you don’t want it but soon as I get in you and you let me lay you out anywhere, make you say anything.”

You turn away but he’s got your fucking number— got you as a boneless, spineless mess beneath him as he begins to fuck you again, and harder, his calculating, beautiful, cruel face hanging above you like a fever dream.

“You gonna come? Gonna cry?”

He’s melting away, he’s everywhere, and the lights behind your eyelids are starting to glare and threaten to explode.

“Gonna come for daddy, huh. That’s it, baby. That’s my girl, let me feel your pussy— ah— there it is— you can’t help it, can you? Mmm, swallow daddy’s cock with your pussy.”

Your orgasm is a wreck of curses and teeth on Ransom’s shoulder when he drops down close enough to make contact. You shake and whimper, struggling to calm yourself through the aftershocks.

When you’re done, still floaty but more aware, the mess of your humming insides less tight around him, he pulls out and shuffles up until his swollen tip is at your chin.  

You obey wordlessly, and afterwards, when the flex of his shaft is tell-tale, and he empties into your mouth, you hold it there, show him the mess.

“Baby,” he says, slowly making his way back down, admiring the come submerging your tongue.

Ransom licks his lips, licks the inside of his cheek, and leans back over again, his eyes liquid darkness and pleased as punch. And he drops a line of spit on top, drools it down over your teeth, into your mouth, and says, “Good girl.”

-

“You need a new laptop.” He’s tugging his belt until the clasp hooks into place.

“I don’t.”

“It looks old.”

“So do you.”

He bristles, offended. And you try, with as much dignity as you can muster after the last two hours of being fucked blind, to not look so smug about it.

“See you next week,” he hums.

You don’t say anything in response, only listening for the same heavy footsteps slam back downstairs—perhaps a fraction lighter—and the clunk of the door swinging shut. A long breath and you stretch slowly, letting your body regain its normal shape before he bent you into a goddamn pretzel. A few minutes pass, and then a few more, and you hear the roar of his car speed out of the parking lot.

Safe now, out of his reach, you amble back up into your computer chair to face the awful white, blank document staring back like a judgmental audience. You slide in and crack your neck, feeling the throb between your thighs yield to a less uncomfortable ache.

The problem, you’ve learned after leaving Ransom’s world, was that you had been ill-equipped to play his game. His game, and by extension, Meg’s game. All the Thrombeys and Drysdales and everyone in-between.

They belonged to a class you couldn’t really understand unless you were making a fucking killing—and graduation was just around the bend, so maybe you would, one day—but you were in the red with 45 grand of student debt and staring down the barrel of a subsequent degree because it was getting hard to make it with just a single bachelor’s in anything.

There was too much to do and not enough time to be jerked around by Ransom—not nearly enough time to feel frustrated about your situation in any sense. No, scraping by taught you to survive. You couldn’t be whisked off to the Caymans for brunch, couldn’t be fucked raw in hotel infinity pools, get lost for days meandering the Pacific on luxury yachts for the fun of it.

Your world was a little more drab, a little less rose-tinted.

So it was back to normal now, back to the grind, back to not wasting any part of your week on shitty dates, shitty sex, and coming home more frustrated than you left it. Because there was Ransom, so eager to make some kind of statement about proving you wrong that he’d be the last to know when he’s being used.

And maybe 4 out of 5 therapists would say that your coping mechanism to a normal sex drive is unhealthy—mind-fucking and regular-fucking your ex/not-ex will do that—but you wouldn’t know. You can’t afford therapy just yet.

You rub your back, patting out the tightness of overworked muscles. It doesn’t feel any worse than the cramp you’d gotten after staying up three nights in a row cramming for finals.

As if your brain has reset, your fingers begin tapping on the keys, and you realize your writer’s block’s been lifted.

#ransom drysdale #ransom thrombey #knives out #ransom x reader #ransom drysdale x reader #ransom drysdale smut #reader insert #fanfiction #ransom drysdale thrombey

[simonsdoll]

can u make sum hc about what the codmw guys would smell like.... thank uuu 🤭

MW2 men and what would

they smell like

Includes: Price,Ghost,Soap,Gaz,Konig,Los Vaqueros and Graves

PRICE

- Price smells of tobacco and manly musk when he doesn’t put on cologne

- When he does he smells like pine, cedar wood or a very herbal scent

- I feel like he uses Old Spice or Dr.Squatch religiously

GHOST

- Ghost smells of gunpowder or very strong masculine and smoky cologne

- If he puts on cologne he smells of oceans and fresh rainfall. Almost as Earth and soil collided and made a scent for him. Woodsy and earthy

- I see him as a Dior Sauvage type of man or Tom Ford ombré leather

SOAP

- If in battle he smells very musky yet has a lingering scent of a sweet aroma

- Soap smells of rich vanilla or a blue and sunny Mediterranean Sea

- I have a feeling he loves any manly perfume at Bath and Body Works

- He uses Dolce&Gabbana light blue or Acqua by Giorgio Armani

GAZ

- Gaz smells of citrus or the breeze from the top of a mountain

- He enjoys very clean and subtle fragrances that bring out his manly musk

- Lingering smells of fresh laundry or breezy meadows

- He might use musky green tea or musky oak moss by Dossier

KONIG

-Konig smells of fresh forest rain or winter sierra mountains

- Would smell of very ambery mint or a very woody sage

- Showered in a herby and earthy aroma like eucalyptus or lavender

- Could use some Versace Eros or Burberry for men

ALEJANDRO

- He smells of strong notes of sandalwood or fresh ocean breeze

- Has a lingering smell of smoke that doesn’t overbear his manly musk

- Prefers aquatic or very sweet tropical scents

- Uses Náutica Voyage or Bvlgari Aqua for men

RUDY

- Rodolfo smells of roasted coffee and sweet musky vanilla suede

- Has a lingering smell of citrus that smells tangy yet sweet

- Loves perfumes that smell of roasted dark almonds or musky chestnut

- Might use Intenso or The One for men by Dolce&Gabbana

GRAVES

- Graves smells of sandalwood and cardamom which compliments the musky woody notes

- Enjoys the smell of warm cedar wood and intense sweet smell of vanilla

- Smells of smokey and autumn dropped dead leaves falling onto the warmth soil of Earth

- Uses Bleu de Chanel or Tom Ford’s Noir

REQUESTS ARE OPEN

Check Masterlist for more

#ghost mw2 #ghost call of duty #cod ghost #cod mw2 #simon ghost riley #ghost cod #call of duty #ghost mwii #ghost modern warfare #task force 141 #konig #konig call of duty #konig mw2 #konig cod #captain john price #captain price #price #price mw2 #soap mctavish #johnny soap mactavish #soap mw2 #call of duty gaz #kyle gaz garrick #graves mw2 #graves mwii #cod philip graves #call of duty graves #mw2 alejandro #call of duty alejandro vargas #call of duty rodolfo

[phoebepheebsphibs]

Hide & Seek references compendium

I put so many little easter eggs and hidden things in my Hide and Seek fic, so here is my little ongoing list of references I purposefully put in the fic for those of you who like this kind of thing idk man

Chapter 1, Disney's Hercules: "Hey, Mack! Ya wanna buy a sundial?" Disney's Jungle Cruise: “Trader Sam’s! Come shop at Trader Sam’s! He’ll give you a great deal on shrunken heads! Two of his heads for one of yours!” the Holmes Hotel, Hugh's Pies is a reference to Nickelodeon's Jimmy Neutron series, Lilo's Stitches and Embroidery is a nod to Disney's Lilo and Stitch, "Crusty the Crab" is a nod to Spongebob Squarepants, Chell's Portal Stop is a reference to the game series Portal, and the final scene is from the ROTTMNT episode "Hidden City's Most Wanted".

Though this is not technically a reference or Easter egg, I wanted to add this note… I made a point of referring to Splinter as Lou Jitsu when he was mad or angry or selfish, and as Hamato Yoshi when he was scared or sad.

Chapter 2, Leo's determination to have Raph call him "the world's greatest ninja" is a reference to the film, Leo's quote "Land safely!" is taken from the episode "Mystic Mayhem" as well as the episode "The Evil League of Mutants", Leo's complaining to be leader is a nod to his future role, Raph referring to his father as a "sewer monster" is a reference to the episode "Man vs. Sewer", Splinter has a flashback from the episode "Goyles, Goyles, Goyles" and the line "OW! Why, you little--!" is also taken from that same episode.

Chapter 3, Mikey's dream is obviously a nod to all that he will do in the future.

Chapter 4, The origin of Lace Face from the episode "Man vs. Sewer".

Chapter 5, Phineas and Ferb "Escape from Phineas Tower": "That's some mole!" The line "Raph! Your enormous body is crushing me!!” is a reference to Disney's Lilo and Stitch, "sweater town" is a reference to the Gravity Falls episode "The Hand that Rocks the Mabel", the line "I didn't want to believe it, but... *sigh* science." is taken directly from the ROTTMNT film as well as a moment when Leo mentions that Donnie was wrong, Donnie uses two really's, a reference from the episode "Breaking Purple", Donnie gives Leo the comic seen in the episode "Jupiter Jim Ahoy!"

Chapter 6, Splinter's tv flips through several channels which include clips from media. These include a Thomas Sanders vine with "Weatherman Al", the quote "My leg!" from Spongebob Squarepants, part of the Fairly Odd Parents' theme song, Mrs. Cuddles' catchphrase "Let's be friends forever!", "I've got bad feeling about this" is a quote from Star Wars, the fake show about "Goosey" is an easter egg to @gooeseyleo and her Gooseyleo series. When Leo goes onstage, he does "a few improvised dance moves", which is a nod to Ben Schwartz and some dance moves he did in the Netflix improv comedy special "Middleditch and Schwartz”. The Lou Jitsu play the boys perform is a parody of the Godzilla franchise and the Pacific Rim films. Donnie's line "I strive for accuracy" is a reference to @sleepis4theweak 's comic (which I think about every gosh darn day), Horsebot-3000 and Splinter's line "I liked Horsebot-3000" are references to the show Community, season 3 episode 7: "Studies in Modern Movement".

Chapter 7, in the illustration Leo and Donnie are wearing Transformer and Decepticon t-shirts, respectively, and in the background you can see spray paint that spells out "Atomic Lass", as well as a drawing of the turtles' weapons.

Chapter 8, a young BEBOP AND ROCKSTEADY make an appearance, as does a very young Harvey Hokum from the ROTTMNT comics. When Bebop tries to sell Leo, he calls him “Shelly”, a reference to my pet turtle of the same name. In the illustration you can see a goldfish on the shelf, which is meant to be Piebald.

Chapter 9, How It's Made, APRIL O'NEIIIIILLLL, Harvey Hokum, Warren Stone and Kendra are referenced, "Operation Blue Suede Shoes" contains the title of a song, a reference to how in the show there are several similar code-names used for the characters ("Purple Rain" for Donnie, "Yellow Submarine" for April, etc.) Leo says that Mikey has empathy amplified, a reference to the fanfiction of the same name written by @filsa-mek on AO3.

Chapter 10, the boys watch "Wallace and Gromit: Curse of the Were-Rabbit". Leo promises to never leave Raphael alone and to always find him. Raph offers several scenarios that actually happen in the future where Leo searches for Raph - sewer monsters (a reference to the episode Man Vs. Sewer), getting captured by bad guys (the episode Bug Busters), and aliens attacking (the events of the film). The chapter as a whole is also based off of a few sketches I made - one of which shows the boys watching the film with Splinter, and one where Raph has a bad dream and wakes up to seeing he hurt Leo, who offers to help and gets the bros together for a turtle pile.

Chapter 11, the episode is heavily inspired by an episode of the audio drama series Adventures in Odyssey, specifically the episode "Mandy's Debut". The line "Wow, the shortcake of death" is a reference taken from said same episode! During Leo's flashback, a reference to the meme "She knocked that smug look off my face, but fourtunately I had a smaller smug look underneath" when Leo takes off his sunglasses to reveal a cooler pair of sunglasses underneath. Leo and Raph make a note to the fact that Leo is not the eldest in this universe.

Chapter 12, Raph, Leo, and Mikey teach April a game they play in the episode "Late Fee". When using sign language, Donnie tells Leo to "Stop yelling at me", which is inspired by a moment in Spy Kids 4. April introduces Raph to Ghostbear's starting career. Mikey repeats a line from the episode "Bug Busters", which is "Remind me not to ask questions anymore." Mikey uses the phrase "hydrate or die-drate", which is taken from a meme but is also something I say constantly as well. When in the Hidden City, Splinter hears people calling out to customers, one uses the lyrics to the Fairly Odd Parents' theme song, another is selling Mary Poppins' umbrella, a third is selling the three mystery journals from Gravity Falls, the fourth is selling Cinderella's glass slippers, and the last one is selling the Stanley Parable bucket of reassurance. Ochimizu is a Japanese mythical elixir of eternal life. The introduction and origins of Loathsome Leonard and the Mud Dogs. Malicious Mickey uses the "creepy doctor" line from "Stuck on You".

Chapter 13, Donnie delirium is directly based off of my own experiences with delirium, as well as his and Leo's conversation about whether or not Leo would miss him when he dies (which was an actual conversation I had with my mother when I was sick with croup as a little girl). The second half of that conversation was adapted from a scrapped fic called "The Kids Are All Dying". Donnie references the song "Big Yellow Taxi". The seven-tailed fox comes from Japanese folklore, but specifically this one was a reference to Naruto! Mikey sings the first line of the "Wonderfilled" song by Owl City. The secret ingredient being a discontinued soda was inspired by the ending of the musical "Be More Chill". The toad yokai becomes Heinous Green.

Short story, in the illustration you can see several signatures and sketches on Leo's cast, such as Raph signing "Mad Dawgs" and Mikey drawing his stickers. On the wall behind Leo is an eye exam that has the words "RISE" and "PHOEBE" on it. There's also a computer monitor in the back with Leo's vitals on it, as well as a notification about the trackers, and a list of all Hamatos Donnie tagged.

I will update more when I post new chapters... ;)

#rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rottmnt #tutant meenage neetle teetles #rottmnt raph #rottmnt leo #rottmnt donnie #rottmnt mikey #rottmnt fic #rottmnt fanfic #fanfiction #i understood that reference #reference #easter eggs #hidden refrences #did you catch that?

[fandomnsfw]

I hate you I love you - Isaac Lahey x Reader

Pairing: Isaac x Reader

Prompt: Requested by Anon

Warning: Smut (hate sex)

Thank you to my wonderful Beta who edited this despite the stressful day she’s had! @lets-imagine-fanfics

ENJOY!!

*****

You let out a growl, your growing apple green eyes flashing at Isaac from across the room. You saw Stiles rolls his eyes out the corner of your eye but you honestly could bring yourself to care because, for the second time in the last hour, you were five seconds away from ripping Isaac jugular out.  

He had one of his annoying scarves on along with a light grey cardigan, light denim jeans and a plain white t-shirt. While you wore the exact opposite of. You had a black blouse with a blood red leather skirt, a small Prada bag, gold hoop style earrings, a matching choker and a pair of black suede heels.  

Your lips were painted blood red, your eyes dusted with golds and browns with a thick wing and your hair was bouncy and curly courtesy of Derek though he would deny curling your hair until his dying breath.  

“Why don’t you just keep your fucking opinions to yourself?” You snarled viciously as you shot up from the ‘u’ shaped sofa in the newly built Hale house.  

“How about you keep your excessively painted lips shut!” Isaac snapped back causing Scott to let out a groan as if watching this caused him psychical pain.  

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” You growled in anger.  

“Shutting up- Definition being told to shut up means to hold back your words and happily keep them to your fucking self!” Isaac huffed sarcastically.  

“No, I meant, why bring up my lipstick what does this have to do with anything!?” You grumbled resentfully.  

“I mean it’s a pack meeting and your dress up to the nines looking like somebody’s god damn Mistress. It’s off-putting in the most sickening and vomit inducing way.” Isaac laughed but as soon as the words left his mouth you were across the room.  

You felt the change take over your body as you tackled him to the floor, baring your fangs at him angrily. He only let out a laugh as he threw you off him only to stand up and stride towards you. However, before he could reach you Scott grabbed him while Derek grabbed you.  

“Let me go! I’m gonna kill him!” You yelled as you twist and turned in Derek’s arms in an attempt to escape.  

“Y/N, calm down!” Scott roared, his eyes flashing red as he stared at you from his spot behind Isaac.  

“Derek and Cora. Lock them in Isaac’s room until they get this out their system.” Scott huffed in annoyance as you tried to flap your arms, hoping Derek would show mercy.  

You and Isaac always got into verbal fights, however, today was a first. You and Isaac never ended in physically violent altercations, still for some reason today his words just seemed to piss you off more than usual.  

Derek threw you into the room before Cora followed suit, throwing Isaac with slightly more aggression than Derek had thrown you. You tried to launch at the open door but before you could they closed it firmly before you heard the clicking of several padlocks. You let out a frustrated growl as you turned to Isaac your eyes flash green once again.  

“This is YOUR fault!” You snarled your tone filled with more wrathful than before.  

“I hardly think it is! If you weren’t such a bitch all the time we wouldn’t be having this problem!” Isaac retaliated.  

“ME!? THIS STARTED BECAUSE YOU BASICALLY SAID I DRESS LIKE A HOMEWRECKING SLUT!” You screamed, your fangs extending as you approached him.  

“I said Mistress. I never said slut!” Isaac chuckled as he flashed his golden eyes at you.  

Without another word you launched at him, effectively tackling him to the ground. You pulled your fist back before bringing it down across his stupidly defined cheekbone. He let out a hiss of pain before reaching up and taking your throat in his hand and flipping you both over so he was now on top of you, his hand still wrapped around your throat.  

You clawed at his hand and arm hoping to rid your throat of the pressure but much to your dismay it seemed rather impossible. His hand wasn’t squeezing but that didn’t mean you felt comfortable enough to have this gorgeous man’s hand round your throat.  

“I will only allow you to hit me once, sorry, sweetie.” Isaac growled, his hand tightening around your neck causing you to gasp for air.  

“I hate you!” You snapped as you thrashed around underneath him.  

“The feelings mutual.” Isaac laughed before staring into your eyes as they return to Y/E/C.  

Silence fell over both of you for what felt like minutes but in reality, it was seconds. Seconds of silence before his eyes drifted to your lips for a millisecond, then his lips were on yours. His hand never loosening around your neck.  

But if that wasn’t enough of a shock. Then you kissing back, with just as much hostility, was. There was nothing gentle about this kiss it was full of pure hatred and quite honestly? It was the best kiss you’d ever had. Your hands weaved their way into his hair, pulling at the roots aggressively as your tongue fought for dominance. Which to be perfectly honest was becoming more difficult to keep up.  

There was a secret that you hid from everyone in your pack. A truth you could barely fathom at the best of times. And that is the love you feel for this man with his hand round your throat. Saying it like that you knew it sounded insane but right now you were in the middle of a quarrel. And for as much and for as long as you’ve argued with this man, he had been the object of affections for way longer.  

It had started in junior year right after the Nogitsune, though you didn’t know that at the time. You had just come to Beacon Hills along with your Aunt Sophia and her newest husband Enrique for the summer. She had recently gotten a large sum of money from her most recent divorce which meant apparently getting a magnificent cabin in the woods near the lake coursing through the little town.  

You had asked why you couldn’t get one in a larger town or maybe even a cabin in the middle of nowhere but you Aunt’s response was always the same. ‘I used to come here as a child with your mother.’ She rather talked about your mother so you just nod your head and went along with it.  

It was a few days into your stay when you’d gone out to the lake to relax. You had a book to read and a blanket to lay on. However, before you’d realised it the sun had begun to set. You let out a huff as you stood up taking out your phone to light up the path. But before you could get any further you heard a howl.  

In the five seconds it took for you to realise there should be no wolves in California there was a heavy body covering you’re and a set of animalistic teeth sunk into your side. You wanted to let out a scream but it felt like any sound died as you finally looked at the thing with its teeth in your side. You’d watched enough movies and played enough 'Witcher' for you to know this wasn’t a wolf…it was a werewolf.  

That night a rogue Alpha bit you less than a minute later Scott and his pack were sitting you down and apologising like it was their fault. He explained what would happen and you took in everything as well as you could.  

When you thought your life couldn’t get any worse the first time you transformed you took the shape of a were-jaguar and months later…You met Kate and suddenly you felt sick to the stomach. You had never hated your were-jaguar but after that day, you did.  

But this boy who is pulling back from the kiss panting? He said something to you after you began to hate your true form, which not only shocked you but shook you to your core.  

*  

His eyes were hooded as he clutched his side in pain. The berserker had managed to slice open his stomach as he jumped in front of you when you’d fell to the floor in shock. The shock that you were anything like Kate Argent.  

You’d never met her but that didn’t mean you didn’t know her. This cruel, vindictive, sociopathic woman who murder innocent people and took advantage of a broken-hearted child who had just lost his first love. You were like her.  

Isaac grabbed you face when you didn’t respond to him calling your name. His eyes stared into your, panic and concern evident in them that you honestly couldn’t bring yourself to care about…because you were like Kate Argent.  

“Listen to me!” Isaac roared causing you to snap out of your daze.  

“YOU are nothing like HER.” Isaac added softly.  

“H-Her eyes are l-like m-mine…” You muttered brokenly, tears welling in your eyes.  

“No! Her eyes are slimy bugger green! Yours are the most beautiful apple green I will ever have the pleasure of seeing!” Isaac argued with a laugh.  

*  

So as much as his words didn’t seem like they should have caused any other emotion apart from humour it had changed your opinion of yourself quite drastically.  

His hand flexed around your throat again causing you to snap out of your memory. His eyes were hooded with lust as he stared down at you as if waiting for any sign that you wanted him to stop. Instead of giving him an honest answer you let your usual lie slip out once again.  

“I. Hate. You.” You punched out viciously.  

He snarled angrily before bringing his lips down to yours once again. It was just as rough and hate-filled as the last one but that didn’t stop you from returning it. You knew if you told him to stop he would. But right now the man you love is kissing you and even though you know it’s hate he feels you couldn’t bring yourself to care because having his hand and lips on your is much more satisfying than you ever thought it would or could be.  

“That just what I was about to say, Princess.” Isaac growled in annoyance as he pulled away from your lips.  

As soon as his hand moved from your neck you rolled over so you were straddling him once again. You smirked down at him as his hand gripped your hips tightly, his claws scratching again your red leather pencil skirt this had risen up to your mid-thighs just enough so you could straddle Isaac but not enough for it to be comfortable.  

“What you gonna do, Isaac? Hmm? You gonna hate fuck me?” You laughed as you leant down brushing your lips against his ear.  

“You gonna rip my clothes off, pin me to the floor and fuck into my tight lit-”  

Before you could finish your taunting he sat up and gripped your hair tugging it so your eyes were now on the ceiling. His actions caused a dirty, dark yet seductive giggle to leave your mouth. He let out and growl as he began biting your neck harshly.  

“Come on, Isaac, you can do better than that.” You teased seductively. He let out a feral growl before you felt claws ripping through your blouse. You would be pissed off, but honestly, your only concern was having his skin on yours as he fills you up.  

Without another word he stood up, wrapping your legs firmly around his waist before moving to the bed and throwing you down. Once there he ripped away the remanence of your top before flipping you over and unzipping your skirt. After he unzipped it he flipped you back over before pulling it off your body.  

“Why not just rip the skirt?” You snorted, rolling your eyes to add effect.  

“Because you spent three months trying to find the perfect red leather skirt and I’m not that cruel.” Isaac huffed but before you could register his words he ripped away your shoes and underwear, leaving you completely naked except for your jewellery.  

You weren’t ashamed of your body but that didn’t mean you didn’t feel slightly uncomfortable with your naked and Isaac still very much dressed. Choosing to strip him down rather than cover yourself, you began taking off his cardigan before ripping off his top leaving him shirtless.  

He knelt up before awkwardly shedding his jeans and boxers leaving you to stare at his now naked self. His abs weren’t as defined as some of the other members of the pack but that didn’t bother you because in your eyes he was perfect despite the fact you would likely never tell him that.  

You flicked your claws back out before raking them down his chest enough to leave red marks but not enough to draw blood. He shivered against your touch before he leant down and began pressing kisses and bites down your body. Once he reached his destination he didn’t ease into it choosing instead the viciously assault your clit sucking and biting at it mercilessly.  

Your back arched at the sudden pleasure, gripping his hair firmly as you thrust upwards chasing your own pleasure. To your shock he didn’t make a move to stop you, instead, he stuck out his tongue and let you grind against it.  

After letting you grind on his tongue for a few seconds he gripped your hips to stop you moving again, causing you to let out a whine of annoyance. You heard him chuckle slightly before you felt two very long fingers enter you, as his mouth went back to roughly sucking on your clit.  

“F-Fuck!” You cursed loudly as you felt your stomach tighten at the intensity. You knew you were close and at any other time you’d welcome this however as much as you wouldn’t say it, you wanted to cum with him.  

“Are you go-going to play with me all day or are you going to fuck me!?” You panted, as you tried to stop yourself from reacting the amazing pleasure he was giving you.  

He let out a growl before taking out his fingers and kneeling up to look at you with a glare. He gave you smirk that honestly sent shivers down your spine, but before you could ask he thrust three fingers into you roughly.  

The slight burn didn’t last long because he suddenly started pushing and rubbing against your special spot. You knew what it was, you’d played with yourself enough times to know how to have a g-spot orgasm, however, none of your partners knew how to find it if they even knew it existed.  

“Carry on taunting me and I’ll make you cum so many times, you’ll beg me to stop.” Isaac growled lowly causing you to let out a filthy moan in response.  

He pulled out his fingers before lifting up your legs and pushing them back as far as your flexibility would allow. He lined himself up before glancing down at you with an unreadable expression you’d never seen on his face, but before you could figure it out. It was gone.  

He pushed into you roughly earning a gasp from you as your eyes widened at how big he felt inside of you. You could tell he was big but now he was inside of you, you could feel just how big he really was.  

You had never fucked anyone without a condom. Not because you’d get pregnant, since you were on the contraceptive pill, but mostly because of diseases. However, with werewolves, you knew you never had to worry about that.  

The feelings of his bare cock inside was almost enough to have you cumming right then and there. You clung to his arms tightly as he paused, allowing you to adjust to him. After a minute you thrust upwards to test it out, letting out a loud whining sound as you did. He shot you a smirk before gripping the back of your thighs and changing the angle until he seemed satisfied.  

He began thrusting into with firm yet slow thrusts, his cock brushing your g-spot with every thrust he gave. When your moans got higher pitched and slightly louder he began pounding into you, abusing the special spot as he did.  

The more he brushed across that spot, the higher you would moan. Right now you were in the palm of his hands, leaving you open and vulnerable to him finding out your true feelings. However, you couldn’t bring yourself to stop as you threw your arms around his neck pulling him down so your lips were against his ear.  

“Please Isaac…” You moaned into his ear before you could stop yourself.  

He pulled back enough to look at you, his eyes widened in shock as he took in your face. Your eyes were glazed with tears or pure pleasure, your face was flushed and your breath was heavy and broken with occasional moans escaping your lips. His eyes softened at you sight before his arms let your thighs go and wrapped your legs around his waist.  

His arms moved to the side of your head, one forearm supporting him whilst the other curled around your head in what could only be described as an intimate action as his thumb caressed your cheek.  

“Okay. Okay, baby, I got you.” Isaac whispered softly before he began thrusting into your with firm slow thrusts.  

His forehead rest against yours, his lips occasionally brushing across your cheeks or your lips. His thrusts never faltering, even when you felt yourself begin to tighten around him. You arched against him, your chest pressing together as his thrusts sped up a little.  

“Isaac…’M gonna…” You whined before letting out a loud keening sound.  

“I know baby…Cum for me.” He whispered in your ear, his hand stroking your hair softly.  

His words did everything to finally tip you over the edge, the orgasm was one of the most powerful you’d ever had. Your body was shaking as you clamped around his cock, the release itself was enough to soak his shaft and dampen the bed sheets.  

“S-Shit Y/N!” He groaned huskily against your neck as his thrust finally lost their rhythm as he came inside of you earning a moan of approval from you. After a few more thrusts he stopped and looked up at you with tired yet satisfied eyes.  

Silence fell over your both as you stared into each other’s eyes. Neither of you knew what to say. No one knew how to end this scene or how to start the much need conversation. You were both stuck but honestly, even if you tried to move you couldn’t because your body was still shaking and twitching from your orgasm.  

Isaac noticed this and began caressing your left shoulder with his right hand. As if trying to calm your body down from its post-orgasmic bliss. He leant down, his eyes never leaving yours before pressing the softest most careful kiss you’d ever felt on your lips.  

“I don’t hate you.” He muttered timidly against your lips.  

You didn’t need to ask. You knew what he meant but right now saying it wouldn’t feel right so he kept it to himself but you heard it loud and clear. The truth.  

‘I love you’

“I don’t hate you either.” You responded with a blush.

‘I love you too’

He stared into your eyes with a smile as he finally kissed you passionately as if he’d waited his entire life for this moment. And honestly…You could bring yourself to disagree with that unsaid statement.  

#isaac #lahey #isaac lahey #isaac lahey x reader #isaac lahey x you #teen wolf #tw #teen wolf imagine #imagine #reader #reader insert #werejaguar #werejaguar!reader #smut #hate sex

[montrealmadison]

Tater 27 please ?

i have never written tater before - ever! - so this was incredibly fun! thank you so much for the prompt and for helping me stretch my writing muscles a little bit ❤️ the only things i know about patater are inspired by a frankly shocking quantity of sidgeno rpf so make of that what you will

27. tater + i’m so tired by lauv & Troye Sivan for @shygryf

Strangers, killing my lonely nights with strangers And when they leave, I go back to our song, I hold on Hurts like heaven, lost in the sound Buzzcut season like you're still around Can't unmiss you, but I need you now

Tater’s letting some girl he doesn’t know shoot tequila out of his belly button when he gets the text.

Kent Parson: you awake? Kent Parson: sorry know it’s late

It is late, three or so, and the club’s fun but the idea of not being here is just as good. Maybe it’s rude, but he doesn’t care; he props his elbow on the table for better leverage and sends back, yes, and then ok?

Kent Parson: no Kent Parson: popped my achilles Kent Parson: we're out

Shit. That means the end of their playoff run, which in turn means about five hundred other things. He doesn’t even have the chance to formulate a response before Kent adds, will you come?

A cold thing settles in Tater’s chest, a weighty purpose that he doesn’t stop to examine. Maybe it's the shots making this seem like a good idea; of course he will, and that’s the end of it. There’s something about clambering up off the table, tequila soaking down into his open fly, and shouldering his way to the exit without a word that makes him feel about a thousand feet tall.

read more below or on ao3 | request a fic here

Kent lives in a nice building. Not nice enough for the security guy downstairs to make any real effort to stop Tater from getting in, but then, Tater is six foot seven and built like the desks that lesser men hide behind. He hits the button for the elevator and zips upward, chewing on his lip, watching the numbers tick higher.

This is stupid. This is an absurd way to spend a thousand dollars and God knows how many days, catching a frantic red-eye to Vegas like he’s going to be able to do anything the Aces’ trainers haven’t already tried. It’s more absurd that he stands in the hallway with his fist poised to knock on Kent’s front door for at least five minutes, wondering if he should have brought food. Does the kid even eat? He’s awfully tiny.

He finally gets over himself and knocks. There’s a voice from inside at once: “Open.”

Tater does.

The apartment is nice, modern. It’s also a complete fucking mess. There are ostentatiously dirty shoes scattered all over the entryway, possibly-related scuff marks up the bare white walls. Tater has to do this dainty hop through a minefield of Yeezys just to make it to solid ground, and is very glad that no one can see him. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

“Parson?”

“In the living room.”

Tater drops his bag in the kitchen and heads for the voice. The close little hallway seems much more inviting than it did in the dark last time he was here, and the living room is spacious and airy without a couple hundred bodies packing it. There’s a big TV on one wall, running something trashy. In the middle of the room is that ugly couch, brown suede and covered with cat hair, and in the middle of the couch is Kent.

Relief spreads through Tater at once, numbing the tingle in his hands. Okay, so maybe he spent the whole five-hour trip picturing the worst-case scenario. Guys in their line of work are not, as a rule, great at handling their injuries, especially later in the season; Tater only has to look at Jack for proof of that one. But Kent’s eyes are clear, if tired and a little wet-looking, and he’s sprawled out comfortably with his hand in Kit’s fur and his wrapped ankle carefully supported by a pile of throw pillows. He’s wearing ratty old sweats, white socks gone gray on the bottoms, a couple days’ worth of scruff that marks his sorry excuse for a playoff beard. 

“Shit, man,” he says, seeing Tater in the doorway. “You came.”

“You call.” 

It’s not quite that simple, but somehow, faced with the fact of Kent’s obvious, boneless relief at having him here, it feels like the right sentiment.

“I did,” Kent says. He sounds croaky, exhausted. The deep shadows under his eyes make them look more green. Tater wonders if he’s slept, or how much. “Thanks.”

He has this weird impulse to poke the bear, which maybe isn’t fair to Kent, but it’s all he knows how to do. 

“You miss me?” he asks, slouching further into the room. Kit lifts her head imperiously to watch him settle a polite distance away on the couch. “That why you ask me, not teammate?”

This is the dynamic they built at the bar, in the darkness of Kent’s bedroom: push and pull, catch and release. Things are still too new, too fragile between them; they’ve never implied a sense of belonging to each other, or at least not the kind that prompts something like this. 

As it stands, Kent doesn’t play along with the teasing, and that’s what finally gives Tater a sense of how shitty he feels. 

“Let ‘em grieve, right?” he says listlessly, tipping his head into the back of the couch. “Shit game. Didn’t wanna bother them.”

You were okay with bothering me, Tater thinks but does not say. A guy you’ve hooked up with twice who lives across the country. What the fuck does that mean?

He knows what he wants, what he wants it to mean. It’s part of what caught his eye in the first place: this kid is so, so young to be a captain, to bear this weight. The Aces are out of the playoffs not because they played their hardest, but thanks to a non-call and an injury that’ll have Kent in PT all summer. Now he’s curled up on the couch in his disaster of an apartment with only the cat for company, his teammates pushed away or otherwise nowhere to be found. It’s incongruous with the spitfire who finds a reason to drop gloves every time they share the ice, who likes to have his wrists pinned down and kisses with too much teeth and, holy hell, called Tater in Providence when he got hurt.

“Bother me anytime,” Tater says before he can bite down on it. He scoots a little closer, clasping his hands briefly between his knees. “Poor Parson. Need friend when teammates being sad.”

Kent’s laugh turns into a cough and Kit scrambles off his chest, affronted. 

“Is that what you are?” he asks. “My friend?”

“Maybe,” Tater hums, pretending to consider. “Well. Maybe not yet.”

“Not yet,” Kent echoes. He sounds puzzled. “Okay?”

“We not really know each other,” Tater says. Maybe it’s mean, the way this is lighting him on fire. Kent likes to bottom, but never to lose control; even in bed he runs his mouth like everything that comes out of it is gospel truth. Opportunities to catch him on the back foot are few and far between, and—well. Tater likes to take care of his people, likes to show them love, and above all likes a challenge.

“We don’t—”

Tater decides to take pity on him. “Sex not knowing, Parson. Think maybe you think that way.”

Okay, yeah, this is definitely mean. Kent’s breath is coming faster, and the line of his jaw is set and trembling. But Tater wants to push him a little bit, get his money’s worth for the flight, the worry; Kent can pay him back in kind, and will. Tater just has to help him get there.

“So what if I do?” Kent asks. His laugh is tiny. “Man, I’m confused. Not like we’ve had much more time to figure each other out.”

And yet you asked me here, Tater thinks, and decides to play his trump card.

“It’s summer. You not play, I’m not play.” Tater spreads his hands wide, goes for broke and scoots in close to curl a hand slow and sinuous around Kent’s good ankle. “Need rest, someone to take care. Seem like good time to me.”

Kent’s breath catches in his throat. He smells sweaty and kinda gross, but his smile is soft, a fragile thing, and Tater knows he’s gotten it right. 

“Captive audience,” Kent says, barely a whisper.

“Yes,” Tater agrees, and leans in to meet his mouth.

#kent parson #alexei mashkov #patater #omgcp #omgcheckplease #my writing #efickegster 2024

[itsbansheebitch]

Speed Powers are Actually Horrifying

The thing about speed powers is that they both relate to time and temperature. You going through the air EXTREMELY fast would cause friction (air resistance is what causes rain & snow to not drop all at once) so you'd get VERY hot. Like, a path of fire in your wake, hot.

BUT! It also has to do with time since time is just a measurement of how fast things are happening and where you are on the timeline of today. Time on a clock and days on calendars is like a timeline marker. You are Here: Feb, 22nd at 2:43 PM.

This means that if you were to go REALLY fast, you'd experience time differently than everyone else. To you, you might be going on a light jog, but to people that see you, you could be a flash of light.

It reminds me of the Hate monologue from I Have No Mouth and I Must Scream. The AI (Named "AM") can sense every individual nanosecond. There are 1,000,000,000 nanoseconds in a single second. However, we must also consider time dilation. Time dilation (in simple terms) is when time goes MUCH faster or MUCH slower than is is actually going. Basically it's "time flies fast..." but ALL THE TIME.

So someone with speed powers would probably be VERY fast, to the point of leaving behind a trail of fire and would be extremely impatient. They would probably experience time differently which could lead to self soothing mannerisms such as fiddling with their hands, picking at their hair, running around rooms (parkour?), and bouncing their legs.

My point is:

Speed powers + ADHD symptoms = Horror Concept

This is easier to understand if you've read/watched/listened to I Have No Mouth and I Must Scream, but I think the main difference between someone with speed powers and AM is that AM is a machine. AM is an AI. AM (as he says in his monologue), he has no hand to play the piano with, he has no muscles to ache while gardening, he has no body to hold someone with.

But because someone with speed powers DOES have a body, they would have to contend with the responsibility (ha ha reference) of being able to do pretty much anything. They could rob businesses and banks, they could get away with murder, they could start wars.

BUT! To distract themselves and to "pass the time" so to say, they'd probably take up A LOT of hobbies. But this would lead to imposter syndrome since they don't have the same kind of time regular people do. They could learn instruments, but they'd have to play tutorial videos at 3x speed. And what if sound isn't fast enough? Is the speed of sound too slow for someone equal to a god?

Again, you could learn every instrument, but what do you do then? Do you tell people? They either wouldn't believe you, think you can but you're not very good at them, or be insecure because they're the same age and can't even play ONE. Would you tell them that you have speed powers, so there's no reason to feel bad about yourself?

Or do you turn to self expression to satiate the urge to pass the time faster and to get out how you feel? How do you even express yourself when you have a completely different experience than everyone else?

Do you lean into the darkness of your situation and use bone flutes and war drums? Do you use instrument cases covered in human skin like suede? Don't worry, you got the human skin when you where younger, less aware of your responsibilities, not as mature. Your a different person now. (You got it two days ago, but it's not like you realized how long it's actually been).

When you are on more equal footing with gods than you are with humans, how do you cope? How to you keep your humanity?

#dc #dc comics #dc universe #the flash #barry allen #the flash cw #iris west #bart allen #kid flash #wally west #flash family #flashfam #speed #speed powers #marvel #marvel cinematic universe #mcu #avengers #marvel comics #horror #psychological horror #superhero horror #discussion #superhero #superheores #superhuman #supervillain #super villain #art #music

[suedesongs]

These Are The Suede Songs 001: Early Recordings

Suede’s early trajectory is often described, especially by the band themselves, as “the world’s longest overnight success”. Four years of slogging the toilets of London, from playing humiliating gigs to, on one occasion, nobody at all, to appearing on the front page of Melody Maker, may sound quick, but in musical terms can feel like a lifetime. This was during the era of musical trends coming and going in rapid succession, a little like fashion microtrends today. Within those four years, Baggy and the Second Summer of Love, The Stone Roses and Spike Island, raves and ecstasy,  made way for American grunge - precisely the opposite, and amongst this cultural shift, quietly grafting their way, were Suede. 

Whilst there aren’t a great deal of surviving bootlegs or demos from this era, I still felt incredibly compelled to cover what I could find in a dedicated post. Research was rather fruitless at times, and I found much of the writing on this period of the band’s career to be marred (cough) by the insistence of male writers to throw all of their energy into a somewhat troubling obsession with what is perceived as the infamous Anderson-Frischmann-Albarn “love triangle”. I took to Twitter (or, blegh, X) to vent my frustrations, and received a reply from my friend Tasha who, much more eloquently than I, expressed how Justine Frischmann is viewed as merely an object in an interpersonal drama, rather than a fleshed out musician in her own right. Are women doomed to simply be accessories to their male counterparts? I find this disheartening when Frischmann is so integral to not only the Suede “story”, but, in my opinion, to what would go on to become the sound we all know, and love.

My analysis will frequently include my personal opinions, and should not be taken as definitive. Where necessary to the discussion of the songs, tidbits of info may be provided in order to “set the scene”. This series should not be used as a biography, but instead an exploration of a body of work. It will be by no means objective. I’m a massive Suede fan. I’ve travelled up and down the country for gigs, queued from as early as 6am for a coveted barrier spot, my cat is (in a roundabout way) named after an obscure Bloodsports-era B Side. I’m a self-professed fangirl. Having said this, I’ll do my best to not let this get in the way. And with all of the preliminaries seen to, we begin with,

Just A Girl (Anderson/Frischmann)

Though credited to Anderson-Butler, this light, airy folk ballad is reportedly the oldest surviving Suede tune, dating far before Bernard Butler joined. The version that appears online, and on the deluxe edition of the debut, is likely a home demo recorded by Brett Anderson and Justine Frischmann. 

Anderson, in his memoir Coal Black Mornings, explains the titular girl, “north of England way”, is a Middlesborough-born Chemistry student called Emily, with whom he shared a flat on Daisy Bank road in Longsight, Manchester, in the year after he moved from Haywards Heath to the rainy industrial Northern city. ‘Just A Girl’ really couldn’t be set in any city other than Manchester. It describes the beginnings of a fond friendship, perhaps more, distinctly against the backdrop of a harsh, wet winter, overlooked by grey skies and red-bricked former warehouses. It’s the first, blushing, awkward flushes of young love. It’s leaving your University lectures at half past three when it’s already pitch dark. It’s when you say something you shouldn’t to the person you fancy after a few drinks. It’s huddling under the covers to stay warm, the excitement of closeness and companionship. 

I typically have a complete, and near visceral, aversion to anything, musically or otherwise, that can be described as “twee”. Just A Girl, I feel, does undeniably dangle its harmonies and lyrical depictions of turning the page of one’s favourite book perilously close to the jaws of this accusation.Yet, I simply cannot bring myself to dislike it. Whilst musically competent, if a little naive, it’s sweet and genuine, and for that, it’s rather lovely. 

There are already some allusions to Anderson’s later lyrical themes; the combination of love and tragedy as he laments how “it could have been so different if we’d only had more time”. Anderson, as we’ll explore, is rarely one to write a straight love song. No matter how they may seem, there is always a thread of tragedy, or drama, which underpins the affair and protects against it veering into saccharine territory. 

For a few years now, I’ve cited the “ashtray eyes and bootlace ties” line to be a direct harbinger of some of Anderson’s later lyrics, most likely thinking of 2011's ‘Brittle Heart’,from his solo album Black Rainbows. However, this is in fact, lifted from Ian Drury’s ‘Sweet Gene Vincent’, more directly alluded to with Anderson and Frischmann lamenting how “Sweet Gene Vincent was never that good”.

According to Anderson, on regular rotation on the turntables of himself, Frischmann and Mat Osman around this time, were a band called The Lilac Time. Quoted in David Barnett’s comprehensive biography, Love And Poison, he describes them as “quite light, leftfield pop sort of thing (...) lots of major seventh chords”, and this influence is abundantly clear on ‘Just A Girl’, and would have possibly done even more had it made it to the studio around this time. 

Frischmann’s, when she and Anderson met, record collection was largely comprised of folk music. In an irritating display of arrogance, Anderson insisted that these records would “no longer be listened to '' with him now in the equation. This decision would, of course, prove seminal in the trajectory of Frischmann’s music career in Elastica, as Anderson introduced her to spiky post-punk, however I find this to be rather ironic considering the undeniable folky nature of this particular song.

‘Just A Girl’ would later be re-recorded by Anderson and Richard Oakes, possibly around 1994, though reports of this vary, but not released to the public until a B-side was required for the single ‘Attitude’ in 2003. More on that (much) later, of course. 

Natural Born Servant (Anderson-Butler) 

‘Natural Born Servant’ is the actual first song in our timeline to be written by Anderson-Butler, and sees Suede as close to flirting with Baggy as they ever would. 

As a result, this one comes across as rather trite, not to mention overlong, clocking in at six minutes and twenty seconds. 

During my initial re-listen in my research for this project, I found myself incredibly puzzled as the chugging, Madchester intro spluttered into a half-hearted groove, before realising I’d gotten it entirely confused with a later track, ‘Be My God’. Frischmann shows herself a competent backing vocalist, possibly more so than Anderson. One YouTube commenter, possibly humorously, alludes to him “doing a Phil Oakey”, and there is indeed a resemblance. Anderson’s, however, is more naive, though he can certainly carry a tune and his voice is pleasant and sweet, possibly to the song’s detriment, when one considers the subject matter. 

Much like a large proportion of Suede’s work, ‘...Servant’ sees Anderson dallying with sexual imagery, and more specifically, BDSM imagery. This attempt, however, whilst enjoyable enough, is surprisingly sexless. It’s almost a feat in itself to write about sex in such a decidedly virginal manner, but I’m glad this was a theme he stuck with throughout his lyrics and it hints at greatness yet to come. More interestingly, however, is the use of sexual imagery as a commentary on class struggle. “You’re a natural born servant/this is the time to open your eyes”, can be viewed as a submissive accepting their place, or a working class individual gaining class consciousness and becoming aware of their oppression in society. 

I must say, I’m glad that this was as far as Suede’s relationship with Baggy really went, at least in the recordings I could find and actively listen to. It’s common to speculate of a song like ‘...Servant’ being indicative of a type of “alternate universe” Suede, but I couldn’t disagree more with this. Suede and Baggy just doesn’t work, and they would have always found their sound one way or another. 

Justice (Unknown, possibly Anderson-Frischmann-Butler) 

Surprisingly, this is the only song of this lot that I find myself drawn to the YouTube search bar to listen to out of choice. It’s almost certainly my personal favourite of all of the pieces we’ve covered here.I even found myself lip syncing to the chorus as I wrote this very paragraph! Oddly, I can’t find too much to say about it. It’s a sweet little, possibly even catchy, slice of Jangle pop. One of the thousands of happy-sad breakup songs of the late 1980s and very early 1990s. Anderson likens it to Aztec Camera’s ‘Oblivious’, which is a far, far better citation than the endless Smiths comparisons I once myself fell privy to, which have since become a cliche.  

We again hear Anderson’s vocals not quite having come into themselves yet, there’s a hint of insecurity and hesitancy. They’re so far removed from what we understand as his vocal styling, that one YouTube commenter on the version I found asks if Butler sings vocals. There is present, however, a deep understanding of melody and an undeniable hookiness. I can see myself going back to this one for the odd listen. 

Wonderful Sometimes (Unknown, possibly Anderson-Butler) 

Gary Crowley, the geezer-ish presenter of the Sunday Afternoon show Greater London Radio, was the host of Demo Clash; a competition held each Sunday on the aforementioned radio station. As the title suggests, this was a show where London bands would send in demos, that would go head-to-head in a public vote. As pointed out in Love and Poison, however, this would largely amount to a game of “who has the most mates”. Anderson would later show dismissal, if not outright disdain for ‘Wonderful Sometimes’. In Dave Thompson’s Suede The Next Life, First Time Around, he describes the song as “shit (...) nothing to get interested in. (...) [GLR] was a little local station, and we’re talking about London where everyone’s in a band.” Still, it would end up on a compilation cassette called What The World Is Waiting For compiled by Adrian Gibson, programmer at Powerhaus on Liverpool Road, N1. 

According to the Discogs listing, the idea was to showcase ten up-and-coming bands who were performing at the venue during this time (from a title like that, go figure). There was additionally a launch night at The Powerhaus, and Gibson was interviewed by Crowley to promote the gig. 

As for the song itself? ‘Wonderful Sometimes’ contains a few witty one-liners, “you couldn’t liven us up with a cattle prod” and “i’ve heard of happy ever after / it was just a joke but you could die laughing” particularly stick out. Personally, I quite enjoy “Do I just love you ‘cause you look quite good”, but that’s because, as a young-ish woman and a passionate fan, this is an accusation I’ve had levelled at me in the past, and I know I’m not the only one! 

‘...Sometimes’ is viewed by many as the holy grail of early Suede recordings, but for something so revered, it’s a decent enough piece of music, but it’s nothing special, even in the context of the other songs we’ve covered. Musically, I try to avoid Smiths comparisons, but here it’s unavoidable as the whiff of William, It Was Really Nothing and even some base notes of Heaven Knows I’m Miserable Now, is enough to give you a migraine. Butler’s playing really is more Marr-ish than Marr, but drenched and sadistically drowned in a wah-wah pedal at times, eliciting a comparison to Fool’s Gold, though, mercifully, this is over much sooner. 

More excitingly is a noticeable shift in Anderson’s vocal styling, now carrying slightly more confidence and having something of a personality. Here, he’s sounding almost like Robert Smith of The Cure, minus the “Robert Smith-isms”. A deliberately but self-consciously Sussex drawl (The Cure, and Smith, were from up the road from Haywards Heath in Crawley), and a slight nasal intonation. 

Ultimately, I don’t so much understand the hype around this one - the reviews on RateYourMusic are unanimously positive, but it’s a jolly tune and, likely because of that, decidedly un-Suede.

#suede #suede band #brett anderson #justine frischmann #mat osman #bernard butler