#like i know he only uses me for sex but idc | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

lunarw0rks · 9 months

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i’ve never seen anybody write for simon riley better than u 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 can i request him + manhandling idc if it’s headcanons drabble ANYTHINGGGG ur writing is just too good

A/N: thank you so much, I'm always doubtful about my characterization lowkey, so this means a lot <3 I think about manhandling!ghost several times daily.

Summary: Ghost manhandles you.

Warning(s): explicit content (18+), strong language, smut, rough sex, manhandling, p in v sex, fingering, size kink, creampie, established relationship, fem!reader, no use of y/n

Word Count: 2.3k

꒦꒷ MAIN MASTERLIST ꒷꒦ GHOST MASTERLIST // have a request? ⋆ ⚘ 🕊 ˚✧ ₊˚ʚ ao3 ver.

Manhandling // Drabble

With Simon’s rough and rugged line of work, the last thing he wants to do is exert himself even more, especially at his partner’s expense…

… Right?

Well, that’s not always the case.

Sometimes, he can’t help himself; his full strength is used on them with ease, the shock of it all. The power of his large, calloused hands and bulging biceps. And most underrated, his toned thighs, the force of his knees to pin a squirming hostile.

IT STARTS SLOWLY; the things you’re used to, like a grab of the jaw or a slight tug of the hair, all verbatim of what his hands normally do during foreplay. The first time he wanted to be rough, to manhandle, he told you beforehand. Since it’s such a rarity for him, why not use the element of surprise? The hand on your jaw, the scalp grip, the lack of words in between kisses, you’re just expecting his routine intimacy. But then… it felt different—abrasive.

Your back finds the wall or the back of the couch, his hold caging you there—not that you have a choice, or care to at this point. That other side of him can be so… exciting to see after months of him teaching you like your body is glass bound to shatter.

❝Keep your hands there, dammit, or stay fuckin’ still,❞ the grumble catches your attention because you hadn’t realized how much his digging fingers were making you squirm, all before they even reached anywhere remotely sensitive. In return, your hands remain on his waist, holding onto the fabric of his tee for dear life.

In truth, you’re too intrigued to disobey, and it’s abundantly clear that this side of him had the ability to make this experience tortuous.

NOT GOOD ENOUGH; No, not you—the couch isn’t good enough. In one swift motion, you’re over hiked over his shoulder like a wounded soldier. Only, his supporting hand is gripping your rear and not the legs of a maimed person, as he’d been trained. The shriek you let out, charms him, to say the least, not that his expression would show much of it. Your view is of the curves of his back, head bouncing against it as he takes calculated strides up the steps, as if there isn’t the weight of a grown person literally on his shoulder.

You hear the hinges screech, the same way they do even when you try to open the door quietly, but it’s clear that’s not a concern of his right now because it shuts and locks just as quickly. A tedious habit of his, even when not engaging in intimacy, even when he sweeps the house before bed every night.

Your back hits the mattress with a few bounces because you’ve been tossed. The small gasp you let out, it’s nothing compared to the resonant, growling chuckle that escapes him.

❝Don’t be a prude now.❞ The humor ends when he speaks. ❝I saw the way you were lookin’ at me… you’re enjoying this.❞

His fist finds the t-shirt you’re wearing, one of his, thrusting it upwards and over your head. It’s like your body is moving for you, how you raised your arms when he removed the shirt, but in your head it’s only a thick fog of lust.

NO TIME TO PREPARE; Simon knows his size, and he’s well aware of how harsh he is. He’s not a barbarian—a little foreplay is the humane thing to do.

His tongue is too intimate, and caressing your figure is too slow. After a few seconds of contemplation concealed by his lips on yours, he’s come to a decision. Hands, it is. Similar to the shirt, he nearly shreds the bottoms. With this cloud of his aggressiveness, he’d shred any clothing in his way. There was no time to tease, either. The sooner he can bottom out inside you, the sooner his frustrations will fizzle.

You’re clothless now, aside from the panties, though they were ripped off before you could catch up. ❝Simon,❞ he doesn’t raise his head, but the hooded stare is enough to shut you up. It was more of a moan than an alert, like you were already void of your full articulation.

If you really wanted to stop, for him to slow down, you wouldn’t be grinding your hips against his fingers.

Simon was only rubbing your inner thighs and you’d already said his name once, so imagine his amusement when he runs his thumb along your clit.

He has to stop himself; he’s not there to massage it like he normally would, he’s down there to prepare you for his size. Though, the hypothetical sight of you circling it yourself while he pumps his fingers, it would be enough to make him finish in his jeans.

Whether you do or not is up to you, it’s your body about to be misused, not his.

His head moves from hovering over your sex, to back over you, only he’s nipping at your cleavage and not your upper lips. There’s no warning; you feel it before you can beg for anything. His middle and ring finger, easing its way in, before he wastes no time curling them against your walls.

Still, with one hand occupied, his strength prevails. The unoccupied one is on your shoulder, keeping you pinned so only your hips have any range of movement. ❝Already a mess for me.❞ His mouth is slightly agape, like he wanted it there instead of his fingers. It was true—the methodical, sticky noise, especially when he went faster and it gathered more on the area. After only a minute of this, it had dripped down the length of his fingers, already a small pool on his charcoal gray sheets.

IMPATIENCE; sure, you could try and fight his grip, but you’re only tiring yourself out more. It didn’t matter how much you wanted to touch him, to do something other than lay there and writhe—good luck. He had already pictured this, when he was kissing you downstairs, what position he was going to put you in. Hips controlled, hands free; the opposite of the one he just fingered you in.

Lucky, or unlucky for you, he was aching for release.

His fingers, once pumping in and out of you, removed just as quickly. With skill, he unbuckled his belt and was left in his boxers and t-shirt—eyes commanding, watching you ache for him impatiently. It was almost humorous, him being in charge and hasty, but you’re the one clenching around nothing.

Simon was never one for conversations, and he sure as hell wasn’t now—not when his cock sprang out of his boxers, throbbing and athirst. The tip of it, already slick with pre-cum was futile against the amount of wetness already soaking your core. At least he knew he wasn’t going to break you entirely, only immobilize you for a few hours at most—the thought of that only encouraged his ravishment.

IRON GRIP; for only a few seconds, one hand is on his length, lining it up. He groans lowly, a string of curses escaping his lips when he slips in with ease. The stretch alone could make him finish, how his size is crammed in, despite the warm-up he gave you with his fingers. But it’s not a slow entrance, it’s deep and forceful, so satisfying he would go forever if he could. ❝So fuckin’ tight,❞ he says, yanking your body towards his length, as opposed to using his own hips to pump himself. But that isn’t enough—you’re moving around too much, you can’t help it, he fills you so well.

Rather than harsh words, another command telling you to stop moving, he uses his strength again. For a second, he debated on putting your own panties in your mouth, maybe a hand there instead, but he wanted to hear every desperate exclamation increase the more he used you.

Before, he was only being rough, and it was nothing compared to how ferocious he’s being now. Both hands find your hips, lifting them off the bed, thrusting your weight on his length with all his force. Shoulder blades and above are still on the mattress, while the bottom half of you is lifted. The angle of it, how he’s lifting you, he’s hitting spots so deep inside—so rarely stimulated. And he’s hitting it with such force, a constant, repetitive pound kissing your g-spot. ❝Take it all for me.❞ As if you have a choice in the matter, he’s already bottomed out.

Even if he wasn’t finding that unparalleled spot, the sight of his eyes half-open, the grunts that sound like growls, even just the pure feeling of him inside you would be enough. From his perspective, it’s just as arousing; the mouth agape, your back stuck in an arch, how you pulse around him with each thrust, the sticky mess coating his cock and lubricating his forceful jerks.

FINISH ME; his movements have gone from calculated to sloppy, but the speed has only decreased a thread. The sound of skin meeting skin, each grind of his hips followed by the sound of your wetness, it’s inching him closer to his finish. And you, that spot deep inside you abused and built up in your abdomen like a funnel cloud—it wouldn’t be long now, not while he’s drilling you.

When he’s hitting that spot, there’s no need to press down on your stomach, to stimulate the clit that’s been throbbing this whole time. It’s like ecstasy, making your eyes roll slightly, each muscle from your pelvis to your toes tighten and tremble. If it weren’t for his large hands holding up your hips, there’s no way your legs would’ve been able to support themselves, and they sure as hell won’t be able to after he’s done.

❝Be good ‘nd cum for me,❞ his chest heaves only slightly, fingertips leaving marks where they’ve been digging for minutes straight. It’s more of a beg than he lets on, because if you keep whining like that, he’s going to finish before you. But you’re so close; he’s seen it several times now—the babbling, the shivering, the pleading under your breath—as if he’s going to stop now.

Within seconds of his relentless movements, the arousal his voice gave you, you were there, dissolving into the pleasure building brick by brick for minutes now. It comes like a sledgehammer, leaving you shaking against him while a string of reaction phrases breath through your lips. ❝There it is…❞ A small chuckle leaves his lips, but you’re too lost to notice.

He’s slowed only a little bit, as if to hold off his own release until yours has finished. He can’t be too distracted and miss it, otherwise he’d just have to start all over again—in his mind, he’s unsure you could even handle that, the sheer size and force he would use to do that.

The feeling ripples through you, his thrusts only magnifying it for you. Your hands find anything they can, first a futile attempt to reach him, but the angle makes it difficult. Then, the sheets you could’ve ripped from the mattress if you tried. Without any of your own control, you’ve tightened and pulsed around his cock repeatedly, so much it would’ve been difficult for him to keep moving if you weren’t so drenched by now. You could swear everything muffled for a few seconds, and if your eyes hadn’t tightened shut, there probably would’ve been black spots.

For him, the sight of it was something he would never pass up; downright sexy for him to watch, motivating his own climax to the point of no control anymore. The bulge of his cock visible on your stomach, he can see himself twitch. When he’d once been thrusting your hips onto him, he had stopped now, his own hips tensing as his head leans back slightly.

❝Fuck.❞ It’s a simple phrase, but his heavy breathing clouding the words says enough. Still, your hips are raised and at his mercy, shivering until he decides he’s done. His abs tightened a few times, spilling every last drop deep inside. He can’t help himself, he sneaks in a few slow thrusts afterward, savoring the feeling of your pillowy walls clenched around him—only until he knows he won’t hold back if he doesn’t pull out this instant.

AFTERMATH; his thumb traces your hips in a soothing manner, letting them down slowly until you’re resting on the mattress again. ❝Shouldn’t have let me do that, or I’ll want to do it again next time.❞ He lets out a deep snigger, pulling himself out slowly. He finds the waistband of his boxers, pulling them up to a normal position again. Then, he finds the throw blanket that ended up tossed onto the dresser, an action he must’ve done in the heat of it, due to his lack of memory.

❝Do what? Make me finish?❞ you ask, breathless and flushed. The quilt is draped over your shivering frame, like an unnecessary apology for the abuse. It seemed no matter how many times you insisted he could be rough, or how many times he was, he fussed over you.

When your tone came out slightly snarky, cocky even, he scoffed. His mind flooded with those images again, biting on his bottom lip with every ounce of his restraint. ❝Don’t get cute with me, love, that’s not what I meant.❞ His menacing nature would once send a chill down your spine, but after that, you’re hoping he’ll do it again, despite the ache in your muscles.

He finally finishes his sentence once he’s leaned in for another kiss, breath on your ever-gasping lips, ❝I’ll always make you finish.❞

#mw2 #mw2 fanfic #call of duty #simon riley #task force 141 #simon riley x reader #ghost mw2 #task force 141 x reader #simon riley smut #simon riley fluff #simon riley x you #ghost x reader #ghost x you

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gothbitchshit · 2 years

Text

Feels Like the First Time

Pairing: Eddie x plus sized female reader

Rating: Explicit — minors do not interact

Genre: fluff, explicit smut

Word count: 5.8k

Summary: Eddie is your best friend, and has always been a little bit of a perv, but that doesn’t matter to you much considering you’re in love with him. Things change though when he sees you in something a little more revealing than he’s used to.

Warnings: idiots to lovers aka best friends to lovers, lowkey perv Eddie, mentioned porn, Eddie likes his girls thick idc I make the rules, Eddie sees the reader almost naked and falls in love™️, mentioned drug use, overuse of pet names, finger sucking, mentioned throat fucking (does not occur), choking, impact play/pussy slapping, master kink, oral (f receiving), fingering, loss of virginity (both reader and Eddie whoops), protected sex, safeword discussion, dirty talk (these two are filthy), dumbification if you squint, Eddie being silly -- if I missed anything please let me know!

Request status: yes! Requested by @friendly-neighborhood-ghoul

Authors note: sorry this has taken 75000 years 🙃 but it’s here! And it’s somewhat more lighthearted than thick with desire but I hope everyone still likes it!! Also it has been beta read so I hope it’s clean but if not, please let me know 💞

⋆ ☽ ⋆ ☾ ⋆

You always noticed how Eddie stared at you.

It didn’t bother you — you had gotten used to people’s eyes on you. There was just more of you to see than most of the other girls, and Eddie was, to put it lightly, a perv. He was obsessed with the “female form” as he put it. He never shied away from the topic of sex and what he found to be turn on, most of which came down to his personal motto: the bigger the better. And his views on sex helped you come out of your shell a bit. You weren’t a prude, just… inexperienced. But Eddie just being himself made you feel comfortable with sex — I mean you had to be with the amount of porn you found under his bed and on his nightstand. Eddie was your best friend, and he outright refused to keep secrets from you, including what type of porn he liked, and expected you to do the same. It hadn’t been easy at first, but the more time you spent around Eddie, the more free you felt.

The only secret you kept from him was that you were painfully in love with him; I mean how could you not be? He was sweet, funny, caring, and had the best hair in Hawkins (sorry Steve). But you pushed those feelings down, deep down, because you couldn’t live without Eddie. You didn’t want to lose him because of a silly crush you’d been holding onto for nearly a year, he meant too much to you. He was a constant in your life that you outright refused to give up. So, you carried on like normal, pushing down the longing you felt pang in your chest every time he made a comment about your figure, called you sweetheart, let you have the last bite of his food, or let you steal all of the blankets when you spent the night.

And you spent many nights at the Munson trailer getting high with Eddie while Wayne worked, even now after you had graduated from Hawkins High while he was attempting to finish his senior year for the third time. But an extra year for him to graduate wasn’t something that put either of you off — in fact it made you closer. Instead of meeting every day in the hallways between class, Eddie would pick you up from the salon you worked at to smoke and hang out, or even just take you home so you could spend some time together at the end of the day. Or you would join in Hellfire frivolities, much to everyone’s joy — especially the freshmen Eddie had collected.

But today was a holiday weekend, and you and Eddie were blessed by a weekend completely devoid of obligations. Wayne was out of town, the salon was closed, neither of you had anywhere to be, and your only thought was getting high enough to not feel the lingering stress of the past few weeks. Eddie had gone so far as to drag his mattress into the living room and made a fort out of some old sheets that looked suspiciously like ones that had disappeared from your linen closet after you complained about needing to get rid of them.

“Alright princess, we’ve got snacks, drinks, and enough weed to keep us obliterated until tomorrow night,” he smiled proudly, standing triumphantly in front of the entrance to the fort, before bowing dramatically, “Your castle, m’lady.”

“Why thank you, good sir,” you giggled, curtseying exaggeratedly in response. But Eddie grabbed your wrist and pulled you haphazardly into the fort, a scream leaving your lips as you felt the momentary weightlessness take over. But the next thing you knew, you were pinned to the mattress by Eddie’s lean frame, a proud smile on his face as he stared down at you. “What was that for, you big meanie,” you pouted up at him.

He shrugged, refusing to release your intertwined hands from where he had them pressed against the soft surface, “Just thought I’d keep ya on your toes, sweetheart,” he boasted, letting his body collapse onto you. You sighed dramatically, knowing it was useless to try and get him off you when he was like this.

Despite being as thin as he was, Eddie was surprisingly strong. He was able to manhandle you in a way you didn’t think was possible for your size, often taking to throwing you around like a rag doll in his play fights, and easily pinning you down to tickle you until you were crying and begging for mercy. But when Eddie got like this — especially when he was high — he stuck to you like a flytrap. Moving more than a few inches at a time was relatively impossible with his limbs wrapped around you like a boa constrictor.

You knew you were in for it when he slithered down slightly, sliding his arms around your waist and letting his head rest on your chest, his legs tightening around your own. You couldn’t help but laugh, earning a pinch to your side, “Pillows don’t laugh, pretty girl,” he chastised before finally settling.

“Eddie,” you whined, trying to shake him off you, “I’m not a pillow, and I’m hungry,” you complained, feeling the effects of the joint you two had shared on the drive over. It made you feel like you were floating, and Eddie’s body weight was the only thing keeping you from flying away.

“But sweetheart,” he whined, “We have all day to eat—“

“We also have all day for me to be your pillow but Eddie I’m hungry, and I’m warm,” you argued, grabbing a fist full of his hair and tugging on it gently, getting a deep moan from him in response.

“Christ, warn a guy before you go around pulling on his hair like that. You’re gonna give me the wrong idea, princess,” he smiled proudly, before sighing deeply and rolling off you. “But I guess you can eat. But pillow time later, promise me!” he demanded, eyebrows furrowed as he stared into your eyes, pinky held out toward you.

You wrapped your pinky around him with a roll of your eyes, a bright smile spreading across Eddie’s face as it did, “Now can you please feed me?”

“Alright, alright,” he sighed, pushing himself off the bed before turning and wiggling his fingers at you. You grabbed his hands, allowing him to heave you off the floor, steadying you as you nearly face planted into his chest, “Whoa there, don’t need you falling for me yet,” he said with a wink.

“You’re the worst,” you grumbled, pushing him away from you as you went to retrieve your backpack. He just snickered to himself, letting you stomp away from him like a pouting child.

But Eddie was grateful for the moment of separation — he was on the losing end of a battle with his own hormones. It had taken every ounce of self control he had not to rut himself into you and bury his face in your chest.

He’d always played off his attraction for you as a generalized turn on — which wasn’t far off to say. He liked seeing the girls in his dirty mags that had more on their frames. More hips, more thigh, more ass, more tits. But his real turn on was you. It had been ever since the summer of ‘84 when the two of you had gone swimming in Lovers Lake after his broken air conditioner had forced you both out of the trailer.

You had stripped down to barely anything, demanding he turn away as you ran into the tepid waters. Eddie hadn’t meant to sneak a peek, only looking when he heard you yelp loudly. He had honestly thought you were hurt; he just wanted to check in on you. But what he got instead was the sight of your thin panties stretched over the roundness of your ass, the dimples and puckers in your skin on display; it took his breath away. But when you turned, and he caught a glimpse of your nipples poking against the thin matching material of your bra, one that was nearly too small to contain the fat of your tits, made him feel like a prepubescent boy about to lose his load looking down the shirt of his uncles ex girlfriend when he was 10.

But ever since that day, he’d been embarrassingly attracted to you. He thought everything you did was pure pornography and it was torture. He was getting more and more depraved and desperate as the days went on too. The simple act of you throwing your bare legs over his during movie nights and the light catching the hair of your legs got him hard, and the pout that seemed to permanently live on your mouth drove him crazy. He wanted to fill your bratty little mouth, make you choke on his fingers, or even better, his cock; make you gag and drool and cry as he abused your poor throat.

The worst part of it was that it seemed like you didn’t notice at all.

Gareth and Jeff had approached him multiple times about his borderline creepy behavior, worried about how it would affect the group if you grew tired of it. But he’d proven to them various times that you simply didn’t care — or at least pretended not to. They watched as he manhandled you into his lap during Hellfire, hands all over you. It would have been nearly obscene if you hadn’t giggled and slapped his chest playfully, rolling your eyes at him.

And your lack of reaction only made Eddie more bold. He was never one to back down from a challenge, always willing to push his limits until he either got what he wanted, or got burned.

But fuck did he want you. You were basically already living in domesticated bliss; all that needed to change was instead of fucking his fist every night to the thought of you, he’d be actually fucking you.

He barely realized he’d gotten himself so worked up just thinking about you, he’d shoved his hand in his pants and had began to stroke his painfully hard cock, praying that he’d cum before you walked back in the room so he didn’t have to walk past you with his cock throbbing painfully. He only hoped his black jeans would conceal the wet spot well enough.

But his prayers went unanswered as you threw open the door to his bedroom forcing him to yank his hand out of his pants with a hiss as his finger caught the zipper, slicing through the thin skin shallowly. “Jesus fucking Christ,” he grumbled.

“Eds are you okay?” you asked, eyebrows furrowed in concern as you straddled his legs, taking his hand in yours to assess the damage. You pouted, eyes locking with his, “Eddie, you need to be careful,” you chastised with a small whine, “What were you even doing? If you hurt your fingers too much you won’t be able to play your show this week—“

“What the actual fuck are you wearing,” Eddie cut you off firmly, his eyes glued to your chest. “No, really, I’m gonna need an explanation sweetheart because it seems like you just want me to lose my goddamn mind.”

You looked down at the shirt, not really understanding what he meant. It was a little lower cut than shirts you normally wore, the tank top showing off a modest amount of your chest. “Eddie, I don’t know what you mean, I’m just wearing a shirt—“

He cut you off, surging forward to pin you underneath him again. It was something he did often, but the look in his eyes was something you’d never seen before. His eyes were swimming with frustration and something else you couldn’t quite place. “Sweetheart, that’s not a shirt, that’s fucking temptation,” he explained.

You rolled your eyes, ignoring the pain in your chest as you tried to push him off – you knew he didn’t mean you, just the idea of you, “Come on, Eddie, I know you like this kinda shit in porn but it's me. I know you don’t like me—“

“Excuse me?” He asked, his eyebrows nearly disappearing into his hairline, “Babycakes, you’ve got me all wrong. I am so wildly in love with you I’m barely competent when you’re in the room. Why do you think I failed Mrs. O’Donnell’s class again last year? I couldn’t think about Hamlet with you sitting next to me.”

You stared at him, eyes wide and jaw dropped open in shock. “But y-you never said anything—“

“Baby I’ve made it obvious for years now. You can’t honestly tell me you didn’t realize when I’m constantly telling you how sexy you are,” Eddie rolled his eyes. His tone was verging on annoyed, which pissed you off — he was placing all the blame on you for not noticing him when he was busy not noticing you.

“Hey! It’s not all my fault! Why do you think I always wear things you say you think are cute? I don’t do that for anyone else you know,” you defended yourself with a glare. “Plus, I asked your stupid ass to prom and you took me! How could you not realize I’m in love with you too?” It was Eddie’s turn to stare at you in shock, eyes going wide.

“I-I thought you just wanted me to feel less lonely because Gareth and Jeff had dates! I didn’t know you meant it,” Eddie stuttered, eyes going wide.

“Of course I meant it, Eddie, I’m not that mean,” you huffed, trying to throw his body off yours but he wouldn’t let you go, making you huff and turn your head away as you mumbled, “The fact that you’d think I would do all that just as a pity date is so gross and hurtful and—“

He cut you off with a kiss, lips slamming into yours with no remorse, his teeth clicking with yours from the sheer force of him, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. His lips were soft — probably from the chapstick he continued to steal out of your bag — and his hand cradling your head felt right. His kiss consumed you, instantly going pliant in his grasp.

“I don’t think you’re mean baby,” he smiled, pulling back to look over your breathless state with a smile, “I mean… you can be an asshole, but it’s just one of the things I love about you princess.”

“And what are those other things you love so much, hm?” You asked cheekily, nipping at his ear as you pulled him closer.

“Hm, well, let’s see,” he smiled, pulling himself out of your grasp to tower over you. You couldn’t help but stare up at him in awe; he always looked so pretty hovering over you. His dark brown eyes sparkling in the low light and dimples on display as he smirked at you. “If you don’t stop looking at me like that, you little vixen. I mean fuck baby, when you look at me it’s like you unplug my brain. Sometimes, you bat your eyelashes at me in Hellfire and I’m ready to hand the campaign over to you, I mean shit, s’not fair. Even when you glare at me, it makes me wanna bend you over and fuck you till you cry.”

His words sent a wave of electricity through you, your body aching to touch him, “God Eddie I feel the fuckin’ same. Why do you think I did your chem homework so often? I almost dropped to my knees when you glared at me for taking the last beer last week. Would have let you fuck my throat, no questions asked.”

Eddie smirked, leaning forward and trapping you under him, one of his big hands grabbing your cheeks and squishing them gently, forcing your lips into an exaggerated pout, “God, the mouth on you. That’s another thing I love,” he groaned, pushing two of his fingers against your lips, your mouth opening for him instantly. Satisfaction grew in your chest as his eyes rolled back in his head, a grumble from deep inside him reverberating in the thick silence. “This fuckin’ mouth, princess. God, you can’t understand how many times I’ve thought about making you choke on me while you’re being a mouthy little brat, or fuck, when you pout at me to get what you want?”

“Wan’ it, Eds,” you mumbled against his fingers, pushing yourself deeper on his fingers, gagging slightly as you did.

“Yeah baby? You wanna fuck me? You wanna let me use your throat?” He cooed, making you whine and nod around his fingers. “So needy for me, huh? Such a pretty little thing, and you’re all mine, aren't you?”

You could only nod at him, eyes rolling back as you sucked on them lewdly. “Wan’ be yours,” you slurred, making him laugh, taking his fingers out of your mouth with a pop before wrapping his hand around your throat.

“Baby, you’ve been mine,” he grinned, watching you squirm on his bed. He had dreamed about this moment for years, you were the object of every fantasy he’d ever conjured, but fuck seeing you on his bed was better. He didn’t know if he could go back, but hearing you say that — he knew he didn’t have to. “Wanna know why I cut my finger open, hm? I was so distracted thinking about you I had to get myself off. I was thinking about those tits, that cute ass of yours, and fuck sweetheart, these legs. God these legs,” he groaned, rutting his bulge into your covered core, a pitiful whine coming out of your mouth.

“Please Eddie, I need it,” you pouted at him, your nails digging into his wrist as he tightened his fingers around your throat.

“This is the point of no return, sweet thing. We do this, you let me do this and I will never go back to just being your friend who has to jerk off in the bathroom every time we’re together. We do this and that means we’re together, got it?” He demanded, and your heart fluttered in your chest.

Being with Eddie was all you ever wanted, all you dreamed about. You wanted him to hold you and call you princess and know he meant it; know that it wasn’t a fantasy. “I want you Eddie, I want us. I’ve wanted there to be an us since that stupid campaign where you made me the damsel in distress and you pretended to be The God of Eternal Darkness who corrupted me and caused me to betray the party,” you smiled at him fondly.

“Baby, I know we’re past this now, but that was me flirting with you,” he smiled, patting your cheek, it almost would have felt condescending if the look in his eyes wasn’t so tender.

“Well maybe the mighty dungeon master should learn to be more—“ you rolled your eyes, but his grip on your neck cut you off.

“Now’s not the time to be a fuckin’ brat,” he glared at you, “I’ll give you one more chance before I decide to punish you to be a good girl.”

“Yes master,” you choked out, batting your eyes innocently.

He nearly growled at you, his eyes narrowing as he sucked in a breath. Everything stood still for a moment before his hands were gripping the hem of your shirt, pulling it off your body and flinging it to the side, leaving you breathless.

“You just have to be mouthy don’t you?” He huffed, ripping off your shorts, leaving you completely exposed to him. You only had a moment to feel shy before his open palm was coming down on your cunt with a wet crack! You hadn’t even had enough time to process what happened when a broken moan was coming out of you. “I knew it, my dirty girl,” he smirked before his hand came down on the same spot again, “I saw that look on your face when I told you about that porno I saw, and you tried to deny it! But I knew baby, I knew you were perfect for me.”

Shame and lust filled your chest, sending heat up your neck while goosebumps broke out across your skin. Everything about the situation made you feel needy — you were completely at his mercy, and you loved every second of it.

“I’m sorry, master,” you whimpered, but this time, the name was filled with sincerity. You needed him to touch you, to fuck you, and being a brat would get you nowhere with Eddie, you knew that.

“That’s more like it,” he hummed, sitting back on his heels smugly. “Will you let your master take control now? Fuck you like you deserve?”

“Yes, master, please,” you pleaded softly, making him smile at you fondly.

“That’s my sweet girl,” he smiled, kissing the tip of your nose as he dragged a single digit through your slit, coating it in your essence before bringing it up to his mouth. His finger disappearing behind his lips made you moan, your hips rocking against nothing as you watched him. A startled yelp turned into a moan as his freehand came down on you again, the pressure on your clit making you cry out as you felt the stinging pleasure radiate through you. “Impatient little thing though,” he tutted, removing the finger from his mouth with a shake of his head.

Your eyes rolled back as his wet finger plunged into you slowly, the intrusion not too unfamiliar thanks to the dildo you had hidden in your room, but the warmth of Eddie’s hands on you was shocking. You knew you’d never get over the feeling of his hands splaying out across your skin, or his long fingers inside you.

“Fuck, sweetheart,” he groaned, pulling his fingers out of you with a slick, wet sound. The loss of him made you cry out in desperation. His chuckle at your desperate sounds made you narrow your eyes at him, “What, you make cute little sounds, princess,” he smirked, “No need to be asham-ow!” He teased, but you cut him off with a sharp pull of his hair.

“Edward Munson, if you make fun of me while we are having sex ever again, I will make you regret it,” you seethed, and he nodded before grinning.

“So we’re gonna have sex, more than just this once… nice,” he nodded. You let the silence wash over you for a moment before you both were breaking into laughter, tears filling your eyes as he collapsed on top of you.

“You’re ridiculous,” you gasped, “You’re so lucky I’m in love with you.”

“You’re damn right I am, I’m the luckiest motherfucker alive, sweetheart,” he beamed, pushing himself forward to slot his lips over yours, his fingers burying in your hair to pull you closer.

You hummed against his lips, snaking your hands under his shirt, feeling his smooth, warm skin against you. His happy trail brushed over your tummy, making you giggle. He pulled away just enough to pull the Dio shirt over his head before falling back against you, getting his hair in your mouth as you laughed.

“Alright, we need to do something about this,” you mumbled, taking your hands through his hair tenderly, gathering it in a bun at the back of his head before sliding your hair tie off your wrist, and securing it into his curly brown mane. “There, now I can kiss you without getting a hairball,” you teased, but your breath caught in your throat when you saw how he was looking at you.

There was nothing in his eyes but pure, unfiltered love.

“I know I keep makin’ jokes ‘bout it, but if you wanna do this angel, there’s no goin’ back for me,” he sighed, “A-and I don’t mean you can’t say no, because that’s just gross and I’d never do that to anyone, let alone you, but I-I mean if we take this step—“ he rambled, but you cut him off with a soft kiss.

“I know, babe,” you breathed, “And I want to. I want you. I’m just worried it won’t be good for you, because I’m… you know… a virgin,” you shrugged sheepishly.

“Princess, you know I’m a virgin too,” he admitted, eyes softening, “I just watch a lot of porn.”

“I know you do, you dirty pervert,” you rolled your eyes, “But you still fingered that one girl last year, and ate out that other girl at the Hideout, so you have some experience,” you scoffed.

“I think it’s perfect,” he smiled, making you tilt your head in confusion, “We get to learn all of this together. You get to teach me what you like, what feels good,” he mumbled, burying his face into your chest. You felt his tongue on your skin, sending shivers down your spine as he littered kisses across your tits. “And then I’ll teach you what I like,” he whispered before sinking his teeth into your skin, earning a gasp.

“That sounds perfect, Eddie,” you sighed, letting him suck marks into your skin as his hands roamed your body.

His marks eventually trailed down your torso, his tongue mapping your stretch marks as he went, eventually ending up between your legs, a lazy smile on his face as he wedged his shoulders against your thighs. “Do you wanna find out what all the hype is about sweetheart? Gonna let me taste you? I bet you’re fuckin’ sweet,” he groaned unconsciously grinding into the mattress.

“Y-yeah, if you wanna,” you nodded sheepishly.

“Don’t be afraid to pull my hair angel,” he assured you, “And don’t even think about hiding those noises from me. I wanna hear how good you feel. And if you need me to stop, like you really need me to stop, just say hellfire,” he said, wiggling his eyebrows at you.

Whatever response you had died on your lips as his tongue swept over your slit, a choked moan tearing from your chest. “Eddie, fuck,” you sighed, throwing your head back.

He simply moaned into you, his eyebrows furrowing as you unintentionally tried to wiggle away from him as his hands gripped you tighter, pulling you down so you were immobilized.

You couldn’t think, fuck, you could barely breathe as he ate you messily. The slurping sounds and his grunts were downright nasty but they made your flesh burn with lust. Eddie was everything you didn’t know you needed, you didn’t know you could miss.

Eddie could think of nothing but you — the smell of you, the taste of you on his tongue, the feeling of your silky thighs around his head and your fingers in his hair, and the sound of his name and squeals of pleasure leaving your lips. He’d never get over it. He wished he could film if, maybe you’d let him in the future. But then again, why would he need a film if he could just fuck you again? He knew you’d be perfect, perfect for him.

He was obsessed. And he ate you with the same desperation he felt when he watched you casually flirt with other boys, the same desperation that caused him to steal panties out of your bag and fuck his fist whenever you fell asleep in his sheets. This moment was a culmination of years of longing and he refused to let it go to waste.

Eddie memorized every twitch and every moan, every thrust of your hips and which things made you try to run from him. His tongue breaching your fluttering walls made you sigh his name so sinfully he had to stop himself from shoving his hand into his pants, but your desperate whines when he circled your clit were otherworldly.

Because his tongue swirling on your clit felt like heaven; the pleasure was immense, and came quickly, but you knew the sensation would become too much soon, and then you’d be too sensitive to take him properly. You’d experienced it before and you were not letting a pesky bundle of nerves from fucking the man of your dreams.

“Eds, fuck, ‘m goddamn sensitive,” you squeaked, pulling his hair, “Not so much on my clit.”

He hummed and pulled away from your dripping center, eyes glassy and feral with want as your essence covered his chin, nearly running down his neck.

“I was right, sweetheart,” he smirked, “Sweet as I thought,” he said before dropping himself onto you again, trapping you in a filthy kiss. You could taste yourself on his tongue, teeth clicking against yours as he moaned.

“Please, Eddie, I can’t wait much longer,” you pleaded, “I want you inside me, please.”

Your words had him biting your lip harder than he intended to, accidentally cutting your lip as the metallic taste flooded his mouth. The taste mixed with the remnants of your essence swirling on his tongue made him nearly choke on his need to cum.

“Fuck, gotta be in you,” he slurred, pushing himself up off the bed. His hands shook as he pulled open his belt and nearly ripped his jeans trying to get them off his legs, boxers going with them. Once he had them off he stood at the edge of the bed, panting as he looked you over, before freezing. His eyes went wide before breathing out, “Condom, be right back,” before running into his room. You would have laughed if you didn’t find it so endearing.

He reappeared seconds later, eyes as wild as the grin on his face. But he kept standing at the edge of the bed, looking at you with a distinct hunger in his beautiful brown eyes. “Come on, Eddie, don’tcha wanna fuck me?” You teased, snapping him out of his trance with a moan.

“Baby, I’m tryin’ hard not to blow my load before I’m even inside you,” he said, throwing his head back.

“God that’s hot,” you moaned, “Next time, I want to watch you get yourself off, and I wanna feel you cum on me.”

“If you don’t stop talking it’s gonna become a reality,” he ground out through clenched teeth, glaring at you. You shrugged sheepishly, and he nearly growled in warning before ripping open the condom wrapper with his teeth and rolling it on.

In an instant, he was kneeling between your open legs again, rubbing his covered cock between your folds as you choked on your gasps. “Please Eddie, please,” you whined.

He said nothing, just aligned his cock with your hole and began to push himself into you. His thickness took your breath away, making you claw at the sheets and forcing high pitched squeals of pleasure out of you. “That’s right, take it baby, you’re doing so good for me,” he praised absently.

It felt like you were being split open, and it also seemed like he would never end. You knew he was long, and thick, but feeling him stretch you out felt like it took ages. But you loved every second.

You’d heard from other girls that their first times hurt, enough for them to cry or bleed, but this was a gratifying pain. And his hands steadied you, one on your hip and the other toying with your clit lazily.

He bottomed out with a satisfied sigh — he knew you weren’t in any pain. He’d watched you, eyes flicking between your face and his hardness disappearing into you the whole time, waiting for a flash of hurt or discomfort. But he never found it. He knew it — you were made for him.

“Move, do something, fuck, please,” you keened, rocking into him shallowly.

“Your wish is my command, princess,” he smirked before thrusting shallowly, watching your face for a reaction. When your moan tumbled out and your eyebrows knitted together in pleasure, he began to go harder. Your moans quickly became louder and more desperate, urging him to let go of his restraint.

The sound of skin on skin, your whines, and his deep grunts filled his trailer, drowning out the tape he’d put on when you arrived. His fingers digging into your plush skin was the only thing keeping you coherent, your mouth hanging open as your eyes rolled back.

“That’s right angel, I’m fucking you stupid, aren’t I?” He asked. You could only nod, tears filling your eyes from the pleasure that was growing in your belly. “You’re mine baby, mine. And I’m yours. And I want you to cum for me, can you do that? I’m so close, I just wanna feel you do it for me,” he ranted.

You were sure you could have cum from his words alone, but the look in his eyes — the possessive gleam you couldn’t look away from — pushed you over the edge.

You came with a scream, your walls tightening around him like a vice, which caused him to cum with a shout, his arms giving out as he face planted into your chest with a heaving sigh.

You laid in silence, both catching your breath as he softened inside you. Warmth filled your chest as he traced nonsensical patterns into your sweaty skin, your fingers toying with the curled ends of the hair that had escaped the haphazard bun you’d given him.

“So, is it too early to ask you to marry me?” He joked, sending you both into a fit of giggles.

“Yes, too soon. Take me on a date first then ask me again,” you said, wrapping your arms around his waist.

“I’ll hold you to that,” he hummed happily, before he sat up with a gasp. “Babe, I know the perfect song for this,” he exclaimed.

You sighed, going boneless against the sheets. You knew Eddie wouldn’t let it go until he made his point. “Well go on then, I don’t know how—“

“I have waited a lifetime! Spent my time so foolishly, but now that I found you, baby! Together we'll make history! It feels like the first time! It feels like the very first time!” He began singing loudly, pulling your hair tie out of his hair and throwing his head back, shaking out his curls as you rolled your eyes, unable to stop the fond smile growing on your lips.

“You’re gross,” you shook your head, earning a laugh.

“Maybe, but I’m yours. And you’re mine,” he grinned, pressing his lips to yours.

-----

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#eddie munson #stranger things #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fic #eddie munson x reader #stranger things smut #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson x plus size reader

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shemaycry · 4 months

Text

❛Stuck to the screen, your words repeating. ❜ ⸺ Kamo Choso

【⠀♱⠀】 SYNOPSIS. after a long night of gaming, choso helps you fall asleep with his.. soothing voice.

【⠀♱⠀】 AUTHOR’S NOTE. it’s the way i’m thinking about other things except piv sex, which is very exciting cause the shit got repetitive on my other acc. PLEASE EXCUSE ANY GRAMMAR MISTAKES.

People that claimed gaming was a perfect past time were either naive or just plain stupid. How could one find the competitive, and nerve wracking hobby peaceful? There was always something going wrong. Whether having an awful teammate,a a bad day, or even— something as silly as bad luck.

Personally you didn’t love video games. You had no plans of getting shouted at by grown men over a digital creation, which stats didn’t affect you in real life. But.. as your friends usually did, they lured you into gaming.

Quickly too, giving you tips and tricks to assure you didn’t drag the rest of them down. And as much as you hated to admit it, you actually enjoyed it. Clicking with the rest of your friends, especially a man around your age named Kamo Choso.

During group meet ups you and him spoke pleasantly on just about everything. Life, his siblings, shared music interest.. you two clicked deeper then you have with anyone else.

An innocent connection you felt were developing into feelings..

Manicured fingers slammed into the keyboard rested on the desk, whilst soft swears escaped your lips. You blinked at the bright screen, sighing heavily the moment defeat in bold red letters flashed across it.

“This is our fifth loss in a row..” You moaned in annoyance, leaning back in your chair; adjusting the black headset you wore carefully. A soft chuckle came from the other line, taking you away from your annoyed thoughts.

“You suck when you’re tired..”

“I’m not tired, Choso.” You countered quickly, rolling your eyes the moment another chuckle came from the man. You breathed softly, clicking off the game screen and switching over to discord. Your eyes traced the computer for a moment.

Choso and you were the only ones currently awake or rather currently in the voice chat, and have been for the past hour and thirty-minutes. You hadn’t meant to play this long, however you sometimes got carried away.

You heard shuffling on the other side of the headset, causing you to gently grab your mic. “Are you going to sleep?”

“Are you?” Choso asked in a soft hum.

Your lips twisted in uncertainty, thinking over your options. The two of you could play another round and risk losing for the sixth time— or maybe try another game.. and still lose. Either one didn’t seem like good choices, but, you didn’t want to get off the chat with Choso; just yet.

So, with a soft hum you shook your head before replying with a quick “No,” when you realized he couldn’t see.

The man gave a curt sound, one that was surely of confusion. “Then.. do you want to go another round?”

“No..” You sighed, rising from your chair to waltz over to your bed. You landed upon the cushiony mattress harshly, rolling onto your back and laying in a starfish position. “You should read me a bedtime story or something.”

“I thought you weren’t tired?”

You could practically hear the smirk in his words, causing your lips to twitch— attempting to force down a smile. You rolled to your side, closing your eyes. “I’m not,” You said defensively, adjusting yourself into a comfortable position on the bed. “—but I do need to go to sleep, and you have a soothing voice.”

For a moment you couldn’t hear a thing, only your own breathing— making you worry the voice chat had lagged out. But as quickly as those thoughts came they left even quicker, given the man was replying with a simple;

“Yeah?”

You smiled slowly, smoothing your cheek into the soft pillow. “Yeah..”

Choso paused for a moment before uttering, “Hm.. I’m sure you just have a voice kink.”

Your eyes opened wide at his statement, eyebrows pinched close as a warmth spread across you. Did.. did he just read you like a book? Was the single thought in your mind, causing you to slowly sit up to think it over.

And yet, he didn’t give you that moment, interjecting before you could even think to reply; “What, did I hit it right on the mark? I was only joking..”

You’ve talked to Choso many times to know when he was joking or not— plus you weren’t an idiot, he was being dead serious.

So, you slowly cleared your throat, scooting back to rest against your headboard. “No, what even makes you think that?” You questioned, lying straight through your teeth. You bit back a grin the moment you heard an airy chuckle, ignoring how such a sound caused shivers to dance down your spine.

“It’s obvious. Every single time I talk to you, you have this same look in your eyes.” He hummed into your ear, causing your eyes to flutter shut. “Always listening, far too intently.. Eyes focused completely on my voice rather then my words. No wonder you always say huh, whenever we speak.”

Read after read— Choso wasn’t giving you air to breathe with these completely correct accusations. It wasn’t enough you were physically attracted to the man, no; you had to be head over heels for his voice too.

You opened your mouth to speak, only for Choso to cut in;

“Deny it, and I won’t help you fall asleep tonight..”

Your eyebrows rose, teeth biting the inside of your cheek as you fiddled with your pajamas. “What, you’re gonna read me a story after all?”

“Nah, I was thinking of something else,” His breath was airy, and you swore you could hear the rustling of fabric.

Such a thought caused the heat to pool down to your belly, thighs pushing together as excitement began to sprout. “..Thinking of what?”

Instead of answering you the man gave a soft, “Lie on your back.”

That same heat swept over you, almost daring to question him again but deciding against it. Instead, you were quickly sliding to you lay on your back; hand spreading across the sliver of stomach exposed from your rising shirt.

“I’m.. on my back.” You spoke, nibbling on lip your as your fingers absentmindly traced patterns upon your skin. Your eyes fluttered shut, head rolling back onto the pillow as anticipation welled in your stomach.

“Take your pants off,” Choso spoke again, before quickly adding, “—just your pants.”

You didn’t know whether to continue to be excited or annoyed he was dragging the obvious out— yet, you obeyed, again. Your thumbs hooked onto the elastic of your bottoms, tugging them down your body and kicking them to the edge of your bed. You laid there half-bare, waiting so impatiently for his next request.

“Now.. touch yourself.”

Your eyebrows pinched close for a moment, adjusting your position as your legs rose. “Won’t I need to take my panties off?” You asked playfully, fingers sliding under the fabric for a moment before his curt response caused your hand to retract;

“I never said to take them off. I only said to touch yourself.”

You hissed softly, fiddling with the waistband of your undergarments for a split second. You could just push them down now.. there was no way he could tell, right? It was only voice chat.

But, for some stupid reason.. You decided to listen, hand slithering between your legs to slowly stroke your covered folds through the thin fabric. The motions continued as the pleasure set in, your legs widening and soft breaths escaping.

From the other side you could hear Choso’s breathing become shallow with even more rustling following. You could just imagine it; him on his back, hair a mess from laying down and the headset, whilst his strong hand was slowly stroking himself through his boxers.

You wondered if he was leaking already; how there might be a wet spot slowly forming, darkening the fabric. Such a thought had your thighs clenching, finger delicately finding your bud below your panties.

The action caused your head to tilt back, lips parting as an audible gasp escaped.

“Oh, you sound so pretty, princess. So, so pretty..”

You whined softly at his words, feeling far more aroused despite the covered pleasure. Your other hand rose to slink under your shirt, grabbing ahold of your breast to roll your thumb on your slowly erecting nipple. The pleasure was increasing by now, yet still not enough— causing your frustration to build.

“Choso, please..”

“What, what’s wrong?” His voice was taunting and low, clearly aware of what you were practically begging for. “Don’t tell me you wanna take your panties off already?.. So impatient, sweetheart.”

Choso’s words were going straight to your pussy, wetting up the lacey fabric even more. Your hips rose to meet your hand, “Choso, fuck.. Just please, I need to take them off.”

He thought it over for far too long, even humming just to irritate you further. Though, you also heard more rustling and his bed.

Fuck.. how you wished you could see what was happening right now.

“Take ‘em off.”

You didn’t need to be told twice, practically shoving off the garment as if they had personally offended you. You then wasted no time in spreading your legs wide, hand falling between them to slowly separate your damp folds. There, your middle finger reached out; swiping across your swelling bud for a split moment— before beginning small, tight circles on it.

With nothing left to restraint you, your sounds were more vocal now — airy and sweet— driving right into Choso’s awaiting ears. This caused the man to breathe heavily right into the mic, followed by the sounds of wetness.

A flush of warmth escaped as the pleasure continued, moans waning as your combined actions dawned on you suddenly. Here you were, having voice chat sex with a friend, in a chat where just about anyone else could join— at any time. Sure, it was currently three in the morning but the threat still loomed over your head.

It seemed the man had sensed your nervousness given his sudden; “It’s only us on here, mama.. use that pretty voice, let me hear you while you fuck yourself.”

Just from his voice and the vulgarity you were keening, back arching as a finger slowly pushed into your awaiting entrance. The moment you adjusted you were curling the digit, moaning out as your stomach stirred with pleasure.

Choso was praising you at this point, “That’s it, good girl.. Keep playing with yourself,” He spoke, breath rushed with soft groans interrupting. His hand was tight around his throbbing length, thumb swiping at the slit and smoothing his pre-cum across his dick. “Bet your pretending your fingers are mine, huh?” A soft chuckle escaped him— “Or maybe my tongue?.. Or maybe even my dick?”

You swore at his words, a second finger pushing in as your thumb began to rub harsh circles on your clit. “Ch—Choso, fuck..!” You pinched your nipple between your fingers, legs threatening to close as your throat nearly became raw from your voice.

You were close, pussy throbbing around your fingers as arousal leaked down them. Your pace quickened, soft sounds surrounding the room and serving as background noise to the sweetest moans escaping your wet lips.

If only you could see Choso; his eyes rolling back, hips rising into his hand and pretending it was you. His groans were deep, bordering on whimpers each time his hand slipped up to his sensitive tip. He was close too, hissing as his eyelids fluttered shut.

“Come with me, mama.. wanna hear you, fu-fuck.. lemme hear you.” Choso spoke on shaky breath, tensing as his orgasm drew.

You whimpered into the mic, eyebrows pinched close as your fingers never stopped it’s thrusts. Far too quickly you were creaming, staining your skin with your essence which trickled down your taint to your soft blankets. During this you heard a sharp gasp, warmth covering your body and enjoying the soft sounds that followed.

You simply laid there, heavy breathing coinciding with Choso’s own. Your fingers slowly withdrew from between your legs, slick smoothing across your thighs.

“You sleepy now?”

You bit your cheek, “No. No I’m not.”

“Good, I’m coming over in te— five minutes.” Choso spoke rather quickly, before the familiar sound of the voice chat ending entered your ears.

COMMENTS & REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED <3

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goldeunoias · 6 months

Text

Peaches Filled with Cream.

A/N: sooooooooooo a darlin asked for soemthing like caregiver heeseung (which i'm too lazy to find right now sowwy) but with jay and well *waves hands* for some reason when someone says jay my brain says POSSESSIVE JAY so well possessive jay stans RISE AND SHINE

WC: 1.7k

Warnings: um......pussyslapping, possessive jay, edging, somewhat exhibitionism bc they fuck in a bathroom at a party, sex without a condom (hence the cream), it's just possessive kinky jay idc what else to say ANYWAYYYYYYYY

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It was only because your lipstick was smudged.

That was the reason why he gently tugged you into the bathroom, glaring at any of the guys who dared to look at you.

Didn’t they know that you were his?

You were his soft little peach, and he had to protect you since that’s what good friends were supposed to do right?

“Here peaches, come sit on the counter so I can fix your lipstick for you,” Jongseong cooed at you gently, locking the door and fixing your skirt so it didn’t ride up when you did so.

“Mmhm, you spoil me as always,” you teased, letting out a happy giggle and kicking your feet as he went through your purse to pull out the lipstick.

“Yeah yeah, more like you’re such a ditz you need me to take care of you,” Jongseong retorted back, holding your face firmly in his hand as he wiped the areas that had smudged.

“I’m not a ditz,” you huffed, Jongseong smiling at you endearingly.

He was right, you were far from it and by all accounts one of the most hardworking people he’d ever met, which only made him want to spoil and coddle you more.

Jongseong hummed and reapplied gently, trying to keep his thoughts pure as he stared at your lipstick-laden lips.

God, he wanted to kiss you.

He’d worked so hard to keep men away from you since the day you guys had met, only considering himself the most viable option for you. After all, who was going to take care of you the way he was?

“Jongseongie~, you’re spacing out again,” you informed him, poking his shoulder.

He gave you a soft smile and a gentler “sorry”, his eyes falling on how your top was slowly sinking down.

Hesitantly he placed his hand on your upper thigh, squeezing it softly. “Hold still so I don’t smudge it any more than you already have,” Jongseong cooed at you. He watched you jump slightly then nod, smiling to himself.

Cute.

“Open your mouth some so I can make sure I didn’t get any on the inside of your mouth peaches.”

You gulped and let out a shaky “okay”, goosebumps rising on your skin as you felt his thumb circle your inner lips. You did your best not to whine, as you were beginning to feel your nipples poke through your tank top.

Jongseong picked up on your shifting body language and pushed it further, holding up the back of his hand.

“There’s nothing in here for you to blot it on so use the back of my hand,” Jongseong “innocently” offered.

“O-okay sure,” you nodded, grabbing his hand by his wrist and leaning in to blot off the excess.

You could smell the cologne on his wrist when you pulled back and by now your head felt dizzy, every part of your body that he’d touched tingling in a way you hadn’t felt before.

“What’s wrong peaches? Your skin feels warm,” Jongseong pushed, pressing his calloused hands against your throat.

You shook your head stubbornly, not wanting to speak. It only egged Jongseong on more, dragging his index finger down your sternum lightly.

Your breath hitched and you felt goosebumps rise onto your skin, grabbing Jongseong’s biceps and whimpering into his chest. You’d become a prey in a lion’s den, but he was still a wolf in sheep’s clothing nonetheless.

"You're normally not this skittish peaches. Did you fall down and bruise yourself somewhere?" Jongseong inquired, "checking" various spots of your body with light touches to find any bruising,

“n-no” you panted into his chest, shifting uncomfortably as you felt droplets of sticky arousal leak onto your underwear.

Jongseong was happy your head was in his chest so he couldn’t see his grin, one of his hands going to your lower back and rubbing small circles in it.

“Use your words peaches~”

You couldn’t take the teasing anymore and pushed him off of you gently, brazenly raising up your skirt. You were wearing rather scandalous underwear and it caught Jongseong off guard, a guttural “shit” leaving him as he bit down on his lower lip.

“Take care of it, please,” you whined, Jongseong chuckling and closing the distance between the two of you, yet not making a move.

“Aw, someone’s getting bold isn’t she?” Jongseong clucked with tongue, his hand sliding between your legs and lightly stroking your slit. The feeling of his callouses caused your legs to feel like jelly, your hands reaching onto his shoulders for stability.

“Please seongie, you’ve never been this mean to me,” you whimpered to him with eyes that normally would have made him melt, but instead it only made him chuckle.

It was true, he’d spoiled you and coddled you to the extreme and it was also true that he’d wanted you desperate for him for the longest time...

But that didn’t mean he was going to cave in that easily.

“You’re right peaches, I haven’t. But today I feel like doing so,” he said with a honey-sweet smile. Before you could question anything he turned you around and angled your body so the counter-top was directly pushing against your clothed-clit.

“Rut against it, give me a show that proves to me you really want it,” Jongseong whispered in your ear, his hands going to your hips to push against the surface.

The slight friction made you keen into the sensation and let out a shaky breath, your knees buckling as Jongseong tugged your nipples through your camisole harshly.

You bit down on your lip and started rutting into the counter’s corner, soon finding an angle that made your underwear more soiled than it already was.

Jongseong watched with a hint of sadistic pleasure as you desperately rutted into the countertop, heavy panting leaving you every time the edge pressed especially hard against your puffy clit.

“seongie it feels good but it’s not enough,” you pleaded with him, giving you tear-rimmed eyes through the mirror.

“Are you sure?” He questioned, pulling you back some and spreading your legs. “Look peaches, your juices leaked onto the counter because of how turned on you were. I bet if I left you here for any longer you’d make yourself cum.”

You rapidly shook your head and turned around, grabbing his hand and letting it rub your swollen bud, his name breathily falling from your lips.

“You’ve never so no to me so why do it to me when I need you the most?” you pleaded.

Jongseong’s chest rose sharply, unable to restrain his desire for you any longer.

“Turn around and bend over.”

You did so quickly and whimpered as Jongseong bunched your skirt at your waist and lowered your camisole, kissing your shoulder tenderly as his hands worked between your thighs.

“My peach is spilling out her pretty juices,” Jongseong teased, dragging a hand down your slit. You dropped your head down onto the counter and whined, ears burning at the obscenities falling from his mouth.

Jongseong tsked and placed a firm slap on your core, lifting up your chin so you could stare back at him through the mirror.

“I didn’t say you could lower your head down now did I peaches? You want me to take care of it you’re gonna have to be a good girl and take orders ‘mkay?”

You nodded and watched Jay raise a brow at your nonverbal gesture, a quick “yes sir” leaving you as he pushed his middle finger.

“You didn’t have to add the ‘sir’ in there after all, I’m your seongie aren’t I?” Jongseong cooed in your ear. You let out a shaky “yes” and your hands gripped the countertop as he pressed against your walls.

“Help me find your special spots peaches, talk to me,” he grinned sweetly, kissing your shoulder gently.

“Move a little bit lower, r-right there,” you gasped out, Jongseong immediately wasting no time with sliding another digit in.

The squelching noises coming from between your legs wanted to make you hide away in shame, Jongseong’s intense pace making your lower belly churn.

“You’re starting to grip down on my fingers, it seems like someone is close isn’t she?” Jongseong rasped in your ears. You fervently nodded and whimpered out for him to let you come and he almost let you, but his sadistic side got the better of him and he pulled his fingers out.

Before you could protest your arousal-soaked fingers were being stuffed into your mouth, Jongseong unbuckling his belt with his other hand and freeing his member.

“Try to stay quiet peaches, we’re gonna have to be quick,” he rasped, slicing into you with one thrust. You moaned against his fingers and reached out to press your hands against the mirror, your whole body shaking as you felt his tip press against your cervix.

“Such a good peach, taking every inch like a big girl,” he praised, grabbing one of your legs and placing it on the counter to go even deeper.

“w-wait you’re going too deep it’s pressing against something weird,” you shaked out, your body attempting to move away from his inches. It only made Jongseong chuckle and pull your hips back against him, causing you to bite down on his wrist to keep quiet.

“That just means you haven’t been fucked properly peaches, feel this spot I’m my tip is pressing up against? Right~ here,” he teased, bottoming out slowly so you could feel in detail where he was pressing. You nodded rapidly, face scrunching up as you tried to process the pleasure.

“Well, this spot peaches is where only a real man can reach, you should be thanking me for kissing your pretty cervix,” Jongseong said with a hint of malice, letting his possessive nature take over him. When you didn’t say thank you he landed another firm slap on your swollen clit, your nails scratching against the mirror.

“Didn’t I say to say thank you?” He clucked in your ear, speeding up his pace as his member rubbed against your slick walls.

“Tha-”, you let out a whimper, “thank you,” you rushed out, feeling your head get dizzy as tightness formed in your stomach.

“Thank you for?” he continued to tease in your ear, gently licking the shell of it.

“Thank you f-for touching my cervix,” you yelped out. You could feel Jongseong smile against your ear as he firmly gripped your hips to lead you to your release, his hand coming over your mouth firmly to muffle the moan that left it.

You shuddered as you felt hot warmth paint your walls, Jongseong groaning and giving you everything he had.

“You’re welcome peaches.”

*************************************

Do we think Jay fits this style? Let me know through anon, reblog, or a comment!

#enhypen hard hours #enhypen smut #enhypen scenarios #enhypen fanfic #enhypen hard thoughts #enhypen jay smut #jay smut #jay scenarios #enhypen jay scenarios

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princessbrunette · 6 months

Note

how do you feel about flirting with aotc!anakin? whether it’s established relationship flirting or you’re just getting to know one another or whatever. i’m rly interested in seeing how you’d decide to write a younger (maybe more naive?) version of anakin. make it as dirty/smutty/suggestive as you want, i love anything you put out

(us acting like we weren’t giggling in dms about this 😝)

okay but yes.

flirting with him is so fun because… he’s a slut idc. i guess i understand when people wanna present him as some shy virgin but also like… did we even watch the same movie? aotc ani was bricked up for the entire 2hours and 22 minutes in this essay i will-

when you’re still friends — flirting with him is so much fun because he’s barely keeping it together. he shamelessly glances at your tits when you’re talking to him because how can he not? you’re practically begging for it with them pressed together like that, blinking up at him with faux innocent doe eyes. he’s already stiff before you’ve even been standing there for more than thirty seconds. he won’t shy away from telling you that, either.

the way you call him “ani” in that sweet breathy voice, reaching up to fix his short blonde hair. he knows your game. he stares down at you with that obscene smirk, shuffling a bit closer to you so he has a better view down your top. but soon enough, you’re pulling away slyly, putting an extra sway of the hips in your walk as you leave him to give him a show.

you have to constantly tell him to stop staring at you, because whenever you look at him he’s got this slight smile on his face — and not in the sweet romantic way, the sort of vacant and dark smile that says ‘I’m not focused on anything going on right now, because i’m imagining you creaming on my cock.’ aotc ani definitely dabbled in a fair share of holoporn, so he can get super creative with his daydreams.

maker forbid the conversation ever is lead down one of a sexual nature whilst you’re still friends — his curiosity causing him to prod and pry at your sex life, and brazenly offering to be added to your roster at a drop of a hat. “did your ex ever taste you?” he’s stepping into your space once more. you roll your eyes at his intrusiveness but shake your head anyway. “i would have. you should allow me. wouldn’t you like to see how it feels? i heard some girls compare it to heaven…” he gets impossibly closer like he’s going to kiss you but you break off the moment.

“what girls?” you frown jealously which only makes him grin boyishly and chuckle, stuttering over an explanation.

when the two of you finally end up together, you make him wait even longer to fuck you just because it’s fun — doing everything in your power to make him flustered. your favourite moment would have to be when you’d come to visit the temple for work purposes, running into anakin and his mentor obi wan. you’d been discussing something of a professional nature, ignoring the way anakin was eyefucking you as you spoke to his master. as soon as obi wan briefly leaves the room, leaving the two of you behind — you pounce, pouting and pushing yourself up against the flustered blonde.

“miss you ani, need you really bad.” you whimper quietly, being met with wide eyes and red cheeks. you take his strong, pretty hand and bring it to cup the shape of your cunt through your panties beneath your skirt. “m’so wet.” you watch ani take a jagged breath in, letting his fingers feel around for your soaked spot before you’re pulling back again, hearing obi wan returning. he gets so frustrated he has to excuse himself.

but that’s not the last you see of him that day, on your way out of the temple he ambushes you — hurrying you into a dark closet space with spare sparring mats and faulty saber hilts on shelves, lips finding purchase on your neck and his hands grabbing greedily at your ass.

“ani!”

“please— please let me fuck you.” he groans, pushing his hips against yours, hard cock pressing against your tummy. “cant you feel what you’ve done?”

“not here, in a dark closet. i would like it to be more romantic than that.” you speak between sloppy kisses, his hand coming up to gently hold your cheek still.

“well forgive me, but i don’t care too much for romance right now. you’re getting me way too excited.” he grips your waist.

“i care.” you turn your head, looking at him with a serious glint in your eyes when he pulls back. he sighs, rolling his eyes and steps back, nodding.

“very well then.” he frowns. you place your hands on his shoulders and stand on your tiptoes to press a kiss to his lips.

“ask obi wan for some time off, we’ll fly somewhere — can take our time. it’ll be worth it.” you smile and he exhales out his nose, nodding.

“alright alright. now don’t tease me anymore, it’s not nice.” he’s practically pouting and you giggle. it’s hard for his own smile not to break through too.

#aotc anakin drabble #anakin skywalker drabble #anakin skywalker smut #anakin skywalker x reader #aotc anakin smut

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thisfanisgonesorry · 8 months

Text

obsessed — john price ft. 141

kinktober day 1: public sex (w/ ale, rudy, gaz, soap + ghost)

posting this prematurely because @megbimbo (my daddy) brought me cod vault and i need to suck them off

tags: public sex (exhibition, shocker), orgasm denial, light panty stuff, creampie, claiming, all that good good, light homoeroticism, gaz is a funny guy idc, accidental soap bashing rofl

☆

“This is what happens when you eye up my girl.” He started, speaking sternly, his hand wrapped possessively around my waist as I wore the most revealing outfit I owned at his command; he grabbed one hand and spun me around with a soft grin on his face, dancing me around as a ‘humble’ brag.

The soldiers surrounding him seemed uneasy by the unknown. They were afraid of their ‘punishment’, most of them quickly averted their eyes from the outfit that left not a lot to the imagination.

I took my seat on the coffee table in his quarters. The lads were conned into coming over for something considerably less crude, something or other to do with catching up and drinks, implied by the glasses of whiskey with melting ice and the calmness increasingly leaving the atmosphere. The Captain took a slow stroke of my hair, his hand cupping my cheek and angling my face to look up at him. The men sat there uncomfortably, knowing that they’d be unable to leave until they were officially dismissed.

“She’s just so gorgeous, ain’t she?” He hummed.

The room was filled with a dreaded silence, and they all hesitated to respond, exchanging glances in an attempt to figure out what the correct answer was.

“I asked something.” He snapped. “Come on, haven’t got all fuckin’ day.”

“Yes.” Simon responded with a nod, gesturing to the others with command on what he felt was the right way to go about this tricky situation. “She is gorgeous.”

“Yeah, what he said.” They began to agree in unison, hoping that the Ghost would guide them out of this since it was like walking through a minefield, though some would agree that a minefield would be less stressful.

Price furrowed his eyebrows, circling around the coffee table like a hawk, attempting to intimidate the men. “How gorgeous?” He spoke to the Sergeants, avoiding Simon’s gaze as he attempted to weasel the group out of Price’s game. He knew that Simon was figuring it out quickly, almost too quickly.

Simon and Mactavish, who seemingly shared a glance, attempting to connect dots. Soap silently spoke to his Lieutenant, airing his suspicions, and Simon responded with a ‘down, boy’ as they both realised what was actually happening, Soap deduced it quickly, and the other was afraid to be incorrect in his assumptions, not airing it aloud until it was certain, though their mutual conclusion made them both more confident in their chances of being correct.

Alejandro and Rodolfo shared a knowing glance also, lowering their voices and dipping their heads as they had their own private discussion. “¿Estás bromeando? ¿Qué decimos?”, “No lo sé, hace cosas raras.” They quickly spoke as the others shrunk under Price’s gaze, his back to them as he paid little attention to their conversation. “Tal vez deberíamos habernos quedado en México.” They mutually agreed.

“Most gorgeous I’ve ever seen.” Soap spoke up, using his Lieutenants guidance. Mactavish knew that if his Lieutenant thought it was the right thing to do, especially when it comes to Price, it most likely was.

“Maybe too gorgeous..” Kyle snickered to himself with implication, trying to relieve the tension in the air. Everyone was afraid of whatever the Captain was planning — and Kyle was the only one willing to test him despite his respect for him. He was, for the most part, in the know but he hadn’t put it together the same way that Riley and Mactavish did.

Captain Price and Kyle shared a knowing look, and John knew that he’d been figured out by enough of them that he could push forward.

“Baby..” He cooed, turning me to face him again, grabbing my face harshly and making me look at Kyle, his other hand drifted down to the bottom of the skimpy shirt, lifting it up slowly, letting it bunch up above my chest. “Show them your pretty tits.”

His hands palmed at the lace bra, a smug look plastered on his face as the other men were unsure how to respond. Their faces flushed with nervousness, unsure if they should be watching or not, though as the scene progressed, they were more comfortable in their shamelessness.

“Lo retiro. Me gusta aquí en Estados Unidos.”

“Hold up your skirt for me.” John spoke again, I followed his instructions and he spread my legs. He turned his head to face the other men. “Any of you lads wanna see how wet her cunt is?”

Kyle tries to stand up from his seat, his intentions not entirely clear, though Rudy and Alejandro grab him and pull him back down quickly, not patient enough to deal with his practical jokes and firmly held him in place. Price knew Simon wouldn’t volunteer on his own, so he raised his eyebrow at Mactavish. He squinted back, and John gave a slight smirk. He manhandled me, swerving my body around so my spread legs faced the iconic duo, though the small couch meant they all got the perfect view

Their eyes were glued at the wet patch forming on the white panties.

“Mierda.” Alejandro choked out. “Joder, Rudy—”

“Justo contigo.”

Simon was entranced, but was the only one able to drag his eyes away from the view, even if only momentarily. “Captain..” He started. “Could I ask.. What’s the damn point of this?”

“The point?” He questioned, positioning himself on the table behind me, letting the boys get an amicable view of the woman he was graciously claiming in front of their eyes. His hands continued to palm at my bra, he was greedy with want, ‘subtly’ displaying his intent.

“What’re you trying to get at?”

He smirked, one of his hands falling down and rubbing at the wetness. “Like you can’t figure that out?” He shrugged, slipping his fingers under the waistband and sliding in with ease. “You must think I’m stupid, I know how you all act, you want ‘er for yourselves.”

His words were met with awkward silence which worked as an admission of guilt. He had a smug grin, knowing he’d caught them red handed, and they processed what this truly meant. My face flushed red, turning my head to the side and biting my lip as the eyes on my body doubled in size, even Simon was getting some form of enjoyment out of it. It was arousing, yet I couldn’t help but attempt to restrain myself.

“Why so shy, baby girl?”

“Mhm, they’re watching.” I mumbled back, trying to avoid eye contact with any of the men despite the temptation.

“That’s the point.” He whispered, leaning in to press a kiss into my neck, letting his beard scratch at my nape. He began moving his hands more graciously, speaking sweetly and planning deviously. “C’mon, moan for me, princess. Put on a show.”

“Ah, fuck, John—” I moaned out.

“That’s cruel.” Mactavish commented with a grim expression.

“Keep goin’, princess.” He laughed softly, making me squirm under his fingers. “Want me to take your panties off? Show ‘em how your cunt clenches around my fingers?”

“Por favor.” Alejandro and Rodolfo pleaded in mutual agreeance once again. “Por favor buena coño. muéstranos?”

“You’re sick, Price.” Simon spoke, though his eyes didn’t leave the conjoinance. John, the other one, simply frowned, knowing he had to hear the sweet sounds of his name being moaned, and yet it’s not even for him. Both duos simply held their breaths, trying to keep their cool, the other man was unreadable, letting the lust behind his eyes be the only emotion he displayed, he respected Price, but there’s only so much strength a man could hold.

“You’re sick.” John spoke firmly. “Thinkin’ about my girl like this, just givin’ you what you want.” He spat. “Watching you’s get hard in y’fuckin’ pants at the sight.”

“Like it’s our fault?” Mactavish spat back.

“John—”

“Like that!” He growled. “You think I’m not meant to find that fuckin’ sexy?”

“Oi, settle.” Simon interrupted with a demanding bark.

Price furrowed his eyebrows, retracting his fingers and smearing the slickness onto my thigh, letting it glimmer under the dim light. He lifted my hips enough for him to slide the panties off, tossing them at the jealous Sergeant.

“He’s right, you know?” Kyle spoke up, knowing better than to get aggressive when he’s being treated to such a view, but he had to agree with him. His eyes flicked into the panties that Soap held in his hand.

He let out a smug huff of amusement, lifting my hips enough so I was kneeled on the table. The group of men heard the sound of a zipper, and a collective group of inward, jealous groans became audible very quickly.

“Dios mio—”

“Fuckin’ hell, Price.”

They kept their mouths shut beyond that, watching as he tugged at his pants. He stroked his cock liberally, pressing a kiss into the neck. “They act like this is cruel, yet they’re still watchin’, baby, they wanna see how I fuck you.” He hummed.

“You’re— Shit, John, I—”

“That’s my girl.” He cursed, lining himself up as he pushed himself into the slickness, grinning at the way the men’s eyes watched on in awe, inward groans at the way I swallowed him whole.

Their pants were tented, and through fuzzy thoughts and half-lidded eyes, it was clear to tell that they were fighting the urge to get themselves off, but they knew Price wouldn’t let them live another day if they did.

“John. Move, please, need—”

He hummed, grabbing onto my hips and moving me against him. “Of course, princess.” He leant his head on my shoulder, his eyes darting around the other men. “You like my cock?”

“Mhm, yeah.”

“Let them know who this pussy belongs to, princess.”

“Yours.” I praised, whining and closing my eyes. “Right there.”

“Louder.”

“John, yours”

“Louder.” He spoke sternly, his hand dipping to rub sweet circles. “Come on, say it louder.”

“It’s yours, John!” I cried out,

“I’m fuckin’ keeping these.” Mactavish mumbled with a sour tone, glancing over at Simon and the other men as he stuffed the panties into his pocket. He leaned back, trying to get comfortable as the view tormented his eyes.

“A few minutes ago you were all for it, what changed, Johnny?”

“You know what, you fuckin’ bastard.” He spoke coldly. “Ale is fuckin’ droolin’, Rudy’s eyes are the size of his fuckin’ head and Gaz is.. Gaz, yet you’re tormenting me?”

“I don’t see you actin’ as well trained as Simon.” He joked. “How is it, princess? Feel you clenchin’, you like them watchin’? Bickering over you?”

“Mhm, yeah, it’s— Yeah!” I nodded enthusiastically as he continued the actions on my clit. He pressed a soft kiss behind my ear, pulling my bra down enough for my breasts to pop out from the fabric. “Ah, fuck, John—”

“Baby, don’t you think he deserves a break from your teasing?”

“Sorry, ‘m sorry, John, ‘m just so close.” I whined.

“Already?” He hummed. “You just like putting on a show? They’re desperate for you.”

“Yes, yes, fuck, yeah, love putting on a show.”

“God, look how wet she is.” Rudy finally spoke up after his long silence. “Fuckin’ creaming on his dick.”

His grip on my hips pushed forward, making me bend over slightly as he kept thrusting into me, hitting the right spot, relishing in the squelching noise that filled the room as the stickiness covered the thighs of his cargo pants. “God, close.”

“I know.” He purred, his hand glued to my clit. “Simon, you’ve been quiet.”

He gritted his teeth. “I know just as well as you, this is a punishment.” He hissed. “I’m not dumb enough to indulge in how bad I want her. You’re claiming her.”

“Smart lad.”

“And she’s liking it.” One of the men pointed out, they were all painfully jealous (and painfully erect at the sight), but they knew this is what happens when Price owns something; this is what they get for wanting to touch his girl in a way that only he should be able to.

I whined, clutching onto his arms. “John— I’m gonna—”

“You’re gonna?” He slowed his movements, keeping it methodical enough, careful to not let me spill over the edge.

“Gonna cum, gonna—”

“Ask nicely, baby, too busy being all cockdrunk for me that you forgot how this works.”

“Please, baby, let me cum, I wanna cum so bad.” I choked out a cry as I tried to push back on him, needing the extra friction.

“Don’t ask me.” He cooed. “Ask them.”

I sobbed around his cock. “Please, please, let me cum.” I struggled to keep my eyes open enough to look at them.

“They have names.”

“Mhm!” I choked out. “Who?”

“Go down the line.” He breathed, beginning to chase his own orgasm more selfishly, it still wasn’t enough pressure for me to unravel, but his harsh thrusts didn’t help the fuzzy, cloudy feeling.

“Ale— Fuck, please, please.” I threw my head back. “Alejandro, please.”

He let out a low groan with a weak nod. “I need to watch you. I.. Cum, gorgeous, you can cum.” He swallowed thickly, cutting himself shortly from becoming a rambling mess, taking Rileys words into consideration as he spoke.

“Rudy?” I cried out, my mind all fuzzy.

Rodolfo glanced at Price, his mind lingering on what the Ghost said, just like Alejandro and just like the others. “You can, Princesa.” He spoke, attempting to stay calm enough where he didn’t rile himself up while using their Captains pet name for me in a condescending way, trying to reclaim what little power he could.

“You gotta use your words.” Price spoke up. “You can do that, can’t you?”

“Fuck, Gaz—”

“It’s Kyle.” He interrupted with a shit-eating grin.

“Please, Kyle, I.. mhm, say..”

“Can barely get your words out, doll.”

“Please!” I snapped, jerking upwards, pushing myself back on Price harshly, seeing white and feeling a sob rise from my throat at the desperation. “Say it, please!”

“Say that you can cum? That I allow you to?” I nodded frantically, and he bit his lip. “God, he really is claiming her. Such a good fucking girl, go on, doll, I’ll let you cum, you got my vote.” He teased relentlessly.

“Thank you! Thank you! Need.. Johnny—”

“Not him.” Price interrupted. John huffed in annoyance, crossing his arms but biting his tongue, restraining the urge to snap at his Captain.

“Mhm.. Simon?”

“You’re up to Simon, yes.” He mocked lightly as a gentle reminder to use my words.

“Simon? Please? You’re all I need, please.”

He glared up at Price. “How bad do you want it?”

“So fuckin’ bad, Simon, please, I can’t...”

He sighed. “Yeah, you can cum.” He spoke, careful to not overstep with the Captain like the others were.

“You heard them, baby.” John cooed again. “Make a sweet mess for me. You’re trembling, princess, you’re right there for me.”

“Just a bit more, please, more!” I begged, letting it wash over me when he added slightly more pressure to my clit, working me right back up to the edge. “Oh, shit, John, ah—” I sobbed, throwing my head back onto his shoulder.

He mouthed at my shoulder, leaving lazy kisses. “Oh, fuck.” He choked. “Milkin’ m’cock, so sweet.” His eyes were half-lidded as he felt his orgasm impend closer, though he made a point to bask in the look on their faces.

I tensed up, spasming around him. “So good, so good.” I nodded helplessly, eyes clenched shut, momentarily forgetting that people were watching us. “John, baby—”

After the comedown, I slumped forward, going limp in his arms. His quick reaction time was beyond useful as he reached forward to grab me, supporting my weight in his strong arms. “God, ‘m gonna cum, princess. Want it inside?” He spoke smugly, eyeing up the others.

“Yes, yes!” I panted

“Even in front of the lads?”

“Yes, want it inside. Please, John!”

He thrusted harshly a few last times. “I’m right there, baby.” He praised, briefly ignoring the other men so he could feel the warmth around him, to let his orgasm wash over him without the worry of the prying eyes that were trying to memorise and suck in every detail of what was happening in front of them. “Keep sayin’ my name.”

“John, please, need it, c’mon, John, ’m your good girl, need you—”

His breathing picked up pace. “That’s it, that’s it. Take it, princess, that’s it.” He groaned, thrusting a few more times before his pace faltered, spilling his cum inside of me with breathy moans. “That’s my girl, my girl.”

His smug grin returned to his face as he caught his breath, he pressed another kiss on my neck, pulling out and tucking his dick away as he held me in place firmly against him, his embrace was evidently possessive.

“Johnny..” I sighed, leaning into him and closing my thighs tightly, clenching myself in an attempt to keep him inside me.

“Mhm, I got you.” He hummed, fixing my bra and pulling my shirt down to cover my chest again.

“You’re a dick, Cap.” Mactavish finally commented, furrowing his eyebrows. “Gaz was wankin’ to you’s.” He snitched, crossing his arms, frustrated.

“No I wasn’t, fuckin’ snitch.” Kyle snapped back, pulling his hand away from his pants, granted, he wasn’t ‘wanking’, but he was palming himself so points for being close enough, he sat back annoyed and crossed his arms.

Simon stood up. “We’re done here.” He spoke. “They’re done, we’re leaving.” He spoke, announcing to the other soldiers that were overstaying their welcome. “Talking to you, Sergeants.”

“You’re dismissed.” John approved, picking me up and getting ready to take care of his girl.

They all stood up quickly, preparing to escort themselves out as fast as they could, though having to walk slowly in the small quarters. They attempted to avoid eye contact, letting the previous situation linger in the air.

Simon took the lead, getting off the wide couch first. “Let’s go.” He called out, with Mactavish already following behind obediently. “No fighting or else.” He warned.

Alejandro and Rudolfo stood up and shared another glance with another conversation they kept to themselves as they left just as fast eagerly. “Eso fue...algo más...”, “¡lo sé!”,

“¿Crees que volverá a suceder?”

“Si tenemos suerte..” He spoke with a nervous laugh.

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xxoolii · 5 months

Note

hope you are well

Can you do something with Hiccup Haddock

argh i'm such a hiccup whore, i mean who isn't?

I would absolutely love to do that for you!!

MDNI, im serious, i literally don't like you babe

warnings: jealousy(the green-eyed monster), praise, degrading, 18+ content, cream pie, not edited in the slightest, the idea is kinda over used but idc, angry sex

author notes: reposts are greatly appreciated! also finished exams so im able to write now, very excited to get into this!!

what you want?

uh oh, you had undoubtedly done it this time. at first, it had seemed like a totally innocent idea, but it had gotten out of hand, it wasn't your fault that the skirt you were wearing rode up every time you bent down in front of hiccup. there was something in his eye. Every time you bent down, a look that you almost couldn't place, it was almost primal, in the kind of way a hunter would look at its prey.

you loved it. you wanted more of it, and then a thought came to your mind. you gave him a polite smile, making your way in slow strides. Over to Snot lout, you crouch down next to him, and place your hand on his thigh. "wow your so smart I never noticed" him being totally oblivious, didn't understand the false nature of your compliment. But hiccup did, he knew that it was to riel him up and make him jealous. he stood up abruptly rushing towards you and snatching your hand off his thigh, yanking you away yelling some nonsense about you feeling sick and needing to go home.

he drags you out the door, throwing you over his shoulder as he makes his way to your house, the walk wasn't far and you were kicking and complaining the entire time, as if you hadn't caused this, as if this wasn't your desired reaction. he reached the threshold of your house and barged through the door making his way to your shared bedroom. you continue to wriggle, grabbing onto beams and doorways as he makes his way through the house. a futile effort on your behalf . he reaches his final destination, and gently throws you on the bed.

he looks at you with a predatory look in his eyes "What was that about huh?" he says this as he makes his way across the bed, hand snaking its way up your thigh. you decide in that moment that your going to play dumb, you've already committed to this act so you may as go all in. "what act?" you ask dumbly. he grabs your thigh roughly, other hand grabbing your chin and pulling you towards him. "you know exactly what i mean. or would you rather i just teach you a lesson?" he smirks knowingly at you, he wasn't dumb he knew you'd done it all for attention.

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

and thats how you gotten here. your arms and legs ached as you felt him roughly pounding into you, moans echoing throughout the whole house. he was unrelenting and he was taking all of his frustrations out on you. his hands gripped tighter on your hips, pulling you to meet his thrusts.

your arms give out due to the speed and force he's fucking you with, your face meets the mattress, moans lost in the fabric. he's not slowing down, his groans and small moans show just how lost in your pussy he is. he spews out sweet praise, contrasting it with the perfect amount of degrading.

"your so pretty like this" "Wish I could have you like this all day honey" "You're doing so so good for me baby, just a little longer im almost there" Sweet pet names and sweet nothings running through your veins as he fucks you better than he ever has. once he gets closer his sweet praise switches to taunts and degradation. "aww poor baby cant take it anymore?" "isnt this what you wanted, pathetic whore"

his thrusts speed up, showing how close he is. you orgasm not too far behind you, the burning pleasure almost too much to bear. your moans and his groans make a beautiful symphony as you both grow closer, the way he strokes against your velvet walls drives you crazy. your body could only ever feel like this for him. white flashes over your eyes as you reach your release. squirting all over him. the sweet feeling of your pussy clamping on him sends him over the edge as he groans and presses his hips flush against yours releasing his seed deep inside you.

he pulls away, his cock covered in a mix of both of your juices. he flips you onto your back momentarily in awe of the way his cum rolls out of your clenching hole. then he speaks.

"hope your little game was worth it honey"

_________________________________

and thats it for today ladies, gents and non-binary pals! this is a little low effort because i started it during exams but im glad to finally be getting it done now!

#smut #xxoolii #new to this #hiccup x reader smut #hiccup haddock #httyd hiccup #httyd smut #x reader #hiccup how to train your dragon

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eggcats · 1 month

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I really love platonic (or romantic idc) radiodust, and I know it's mostly a remnant of the old cast livestreams but it still lives in my heart.

(You WILL take the "Angel, stop putting a bow on my tail!" "...no." away from my cold, dead hands. I don't care, that's canon to me forever.)

Because Alastor, relatively speaking, lets Angel get away with a LOT in regards to him. All he does is laugh and immediately shut down any attempts of Angel to proposition him - but he doesn't seem to react any further than that. (And I know we only see like 2 instances in the show, but in my heart of hearts, I fully believe Angel does it only slightly less to Alastor than to Husk.)

Not to mention how Alastor just lets Angel get away with using whatever nicknames or descriptions he wants. I know Alastor makes himself out to be a Southern Gentleman and all, but he's also a feared overlord even after having been missing for 7 years - that does not lend us to the personality of someone who just "lets things go."

I think regardless if you go with the headcanon/typical fic usage of Alastor's mother being a sex worker - he's still familiar with that type of work and doesn't feel the need to judge it as anything other than work (if only work he's not interested in). He knows the contract Angel is in, the work he does, and how he uses his sexuality to try to gain any advantage he can - especially when dealing with an overlord (like himself) significantly more powerful than him. Alastor understands Angel propositioning him is more Angel trying to use his one advantage to stay in Alastor's good books, rather than any real desire for him, so he doesn't really react past simply shutting it down.

As such, I just love the idea that Alastor just indulges Angel in whatever he does and never really gets upset at him for pushing his boundaries.

(We know Alastor likes women more than men, but in many ways, this doesn't seem to apply to Angel.)

I love the idea of Angel slowly becoming more and more comfortable around Alastor, and while his hitting on him slowly stops, he still hangs around him and can occasionally get away with touching his arm or shoulder.

(Angel cracks a joke, and Alastor actually laughs at it, and Angel leans in to throw an arm around him to laugh with him. Everyone collectively holds their breath. Alastor lets Angel touch him and only moves away when the laughter stops. This makes the top news story the next day.)

(Plus, imagine the blowout if Vox finds out that Alastor rejected his offer to join him only to willingly hang out with the PORN STAR his fuckbuddy owns. Hysterical.)

#hazbin hotel #alastor #angel dust #radiodust #hazbin alastor #hazbin angel dust #mine

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cillian-gets-me-wetter · 1 month

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never lose me - rafe cameron x toxic ex!fem reader (headcanons)

a/n: a lot of the rafe fics i’ve seen are that the reader is kind of a pushover and i can’t help but think like GIRL STAND UPPP so decided to switch it up a bit ;) also this is my first set of headcanons 💕💖

warnings: toxic behavior (def don’t do any of this y’all), mentions of drug use, mentions of sex, mentions of face slapping (consensual ofc), strong language, read at your own discretion

disclaimer: this is for fictional purposes only. do not copy or claim my work as your own. comments, reblogs and constructive feedback are appreciated!!

masterlist

- being a bitch to everyone but him >>

- has her father’s temper

- radiates jennifer check, maxine minx and love quinn energy

- the embodiment of that one audio, “um.. i hate that you can’t see my damn jewelry with this fucking shirt on!”

- cherry themed everything (rolling papers, lighters, etc.)

- a bit of slob (it gets on his nervesss)

- “you know.. if you knew i was coming over then maybe you could have put your clothes away..”

- “god, i’ll clean later, stop your bitching.”

- being the only person who gets free weed from him

- y’all can’t leave each other aloneee (tbh real)

- giving you his jacket whenever you were cold

- stalking his social media accounts (he does the same to you)

- “so who’s aria?”

- “nobody. stop looking through my fucking instagram.”

- doesn’t put up with his shit

- “you aren’t going to do shit, country club. shut the fuck up.”

- literally that one tweet, “me and my girl don’t argue. she tell me to shut up and i do”

- he pays for AND helps picks out the color of your nails

- making sure you send a pic of them to him after they’re done

- sending each other nudes whenever you both were busy

- jealousy rushes through you whenever girls surround him at parties

- “i swear, if one of those touron bitches looks at you again, i’m gouging her fucking eyes out.”

- “they’re just looking at me. fucking chill.”

- checking his location 24/7

- rearranging your guts whenever you had an attitude with him

- “are you going to drop the fucking attitude? or do i need to fuck it out of you?”

- number 2 was always the chosen answer for that question

- matching his energy during sex (if he slapped you, you slapped him back a bit harder).

- always leaving with him at the end of a night out

- ending up in his bed more than your own

- adjusts your septum piercing for you whenever it was sideways (literally so specific but this is so hot to me idc)

- still wearing the promise ring he gave you when you both dated

- “you still have that fucking thing?”

- “yeah.. i never plan to take it off so get used it.”

- not judging each other despite whatever you have gone through or choices you both have made

- you being the only one he can cry in front of and seek out for comfort

- you both being wrapped around each other’s fingers

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron headcanons #rafe cameron imagine #drew starkey #outer banks #outer banks fic #i wouldn’t say she’s so me but like #she’s so me #Spotify #izzy writes 💕

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restinslices · 4 months

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Yo, still waiting for that if Tomas was a sub one (canon tbh)

Cannot believe I forgot. Y’all can boo me

Imma just come out and say it. He's such a whiny sub

There are characters that give me dom vibes but I think them as subs would be fun. There are characters that give me switch vibes. Tomas gives me only sub vibes. I don't detect a dom in there. idk, that's just me tho

So needy and whiny it'd probably throw you off when you see him doing anything other than begging you to touch him

Cannot handle teasing at all. He's ok with teasing you but breaks easily when you tease him

Honestly he can't backup any of the shit he talks.

One of those subs who need attention at all times. Even if you're not interacting with him, he still wants you in the area

Kinks I think he'd have are barebacking, biting, humiliation (a HUGE one and imma stand on it), breath play, collaring (in private), impact play, sex toys and sensory deprivation

I just feel like he's a slut in disguise. Where's my proof? I made it the fuck up. I'm doing this for US

If you have female anatomy he's also getting pegged. IDC IDC

Humiliation is a big one for him because he knows it's still a safe space. You can taunt him about how he's a slut, write things on him, make him get off with something unusual, ect. but at the end of day you still love him and it's all for fun.

You can tell when he's needy ‘cause he's extremely close to you. He follows you around normally, but he's right on your heels

To torture him more you can pretend you have no idea what he wants. He knows you know and you know he knows, but watching him try to ignore how he feels ‘cause he doesn't wanna say it out loud is priceless.

He also has a tendency to say he can't take anymore but in reality he wants you to keep going. This is a big guy, he can take it.

There's two good punishments for him; Cockwarming and overstimulation

Cockwarming because he can't handle teasing. It's so simple but he can't stand it and doesn't know which is worse; when you're inside of him (actual dick or strapon, doesn't matter) or when he's inside of you. Either way, it doesn't take long for him to apologize for whatever he's done and beg you to fuck him already.

For overstimulation he gets turned on and cums pretty easily so it wouldn't take that much to overstimulate him.

These two go well together. Cockwarming then overstimulation as a “isn't this what you wanted?”

What would make this better is quizzing him on something. His brain stops working when he's horny so quizzing him on Lin Kuei principles or something else he for sure knows adds to it.

He knows he knows the answer but his brain is a fog. It kinda puts the punishment in his hands but that adds to the torture. If he could figure this out, then you'd actually fuck him (or you'd stop fucking him if you do this while overstimulating him)

As I'm typing this I thought of another thing that can be both a punishment but also something he enjoys. Dryhumping. Listen to me and listen to me well-

I can see him coming up behind you when you're alone and rubbing against you to let you know he's needy. And if you told him to keep going, he'd cum but it's not what he really wants to do.

So him being in trouble and being forced to rub against you but not be inside you or have you inside him would drive him nuts.

Aftercare for him would be showering together, cuddling and reassuring him you didn't mean any of the negative things you said. Especially after an intense punishment, he needs to hear you don't actually think negatively of him and you love him.

Also reading together depending on the day. Just something really chill to pull him back to reality.

I just realized he has the least amount of words so here are afterthoughts to fix that

I know I've called him whiny multiple times but I genuinely think sometimes he can't even form coherent sentences. All that comes out are noises

Tries not to pout but does so anyway

He can get off just from giving head

Loves you leaving marks on him as long as he can cover it up. He can't be scrapping and the enemy sees a hickey on his neck

Tries to sneakily break rules. For example, if a rule is “no touching yourself when I'm gone” he'll do it anyway and try to get rid of the evidence. He'll shower, change clothes, clean any toy he used and whatever else he has to do but you somehow always know.

Tomas is not the best liar and has some habits he does when lying, like tapping his fingertips together so you find out that way or from actually catching him and pretending you didn’t

The type to break rules on purpose if you haven't been giving him attention and then be surprised when actions have consequences

Will call you whatever title you prefer if you don't just wanna go by your name

Like his brothers, he for sure could just throw you off but he never does. It adds to the fun. He's a skilled assassin but if you said “jump” he'd ask “how high?”

The best sub to have if you want one whos so pathetically in love with you but can be a little shit sometimes

Even after his punishments, he keeps apologizing to make sure you're not actually mad at him.

Probably begs you to cum inside him anyway you can

I see him and start tweaking fr

#tomas vrbada #tomas vrbada smoke #tomas vrbada x reader #smoke #tomas vrbada mk1 #tomas vrbada headcanons #tomas vrbada x y/n #tomas vrbada smut #sub Tomas vrbada #Sub smoke #mk1 #mk1 2023 #mortal kombat 1 #Mdni #feral for this man

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oddinary4bts · 6 months

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November Sun | jjk

☆summary: whenever he breaks, the november sun shines on him. and jungkook chases you across the sky - but you've gone some place he can't reach you now.

☆pairing: Jungkook x reader (I genuinely don't think the gender is ever mentioned? please let me know if it is so I can adjust this here), mentions-ish of Namjoon x reader

☆rating: 18+ (minors DNI, it deals with heavy themes)

☆genre: grief au/funeral au?, exes au, angst

☆warnings: angst, like. Just angst. OC is dead and Jungkook is grieving her. Curses words, very light mentions of sex, flashbacks of moments when jungkook broke. mentions of christianism (the funerals are held in a church), mentions of alcohol, jealousy. Namjoon is a broken man as well

☆word count: 3.7k

☆a/n: I started writing this tonight because I was sad and then just realized I won't have the strength to look back on it ever again so I'm posting it even tho it hasn't been beta-ed, and even tho the person that makes my moodboards is unavailable rn. Idc. It needed to be out of my system, and now it is.

☆a/n pt2: I know this piece is extremely heavy. If you ever need to speak, please reach out to me. My blog is a safe space for every single one of you <3

☆☆☆☆☆

The church is a tall building. Grand, elegant in its simplicity, though it cuts against the blue sky up above in stark lines, shaped like a prison.

Jungkook thinks life has become a prison a while ago.

It’s a mystery, why your family chose this space for your funeral. You never believed, never practiced. Is it a betrayal to mark your passing in a space that feels so unlike you?

Jungkook thinks it is.

He sighs, chases the heaviness away the same way the clouds chase themselves in the sky up above. He doesn’t know how the sun is shining in the blue expanse of the sky. It’s November, yet the day is warm, the sun is blindingly glowing. It feels like a crime – how can the sun shine in a world deprived of your existence?

Jungkook doesn’t want to know.

Only knows that he’s watched from afar the people that gathered on the front steps. Chatting, heads hung low and shoulders bent forward. He heard sniffles, he heard laughs, and he just waited for everyone to go in to get closer.

Jungkook doesn’t know why he was invited. Why someone from a distant past figured he would need to be here, to share his grief with people that could understand.

Though Jungkook thinks no one can understand.

He remembers you, in all your glory. His first love, when he had been a stupid college kid who didn’t know what he wanted in life. You were two years older, and now... and now one day he’ll be older than you. Because you've stopped aging, you came and went like a moment in time, when he'll still be here for who fucking knows how long.

He chases the thought away with a long inhale, holds the air in knowing that it’s choking him up before he lets it out on a sigh.

You were beautiful. A star that walked the Earth, only to return to the night sky above far too soon. He had loved you dearly, in his own twisted way. Had tried to be what you sought, what you needed, until he had realized he was never going to be enough.

Would you still be alive today, if he had fought harder?

*****

“I’m not doing this,” you said. “I’m so fucking done with your indecision, with your fear of commitment.”

Jungkook scoffed. “Please, you graduated and now you think you’re so high above me. Get down from the fucking horse, Y/n, it’s not going to bring us anywhere.”

He’d said the words hoping that they would hurt you. And they did: he saw you physically recoil as if he’d punched you. As if the words had been a physical blow, and not just letters of the alphabets shaped into words and sound, into arrows to pierce that beautiful soul of yours.

“Maybe I don’t want us to go somewhere anymore,” you replied after a quiet moment of breaking hearts.

“I didn’t mean that.”

“I know.” You sighed, slightly shaking your head as your eyes fell to the floor between you and him. “I know, but I mean it.”

“Please,” was all Jungkook thought to reply.

“You say please all the time,” you told him. “You beg me, and for what? We always circle back to fighting, to hurting each other.” You paused, and though you were avoiding his features he could see you blinking back tears. “Maybe we aren’t supposed to be together at all.”

“Don’t say that,” Jungkook warned. “Don’t you fucking say that. I love you. Isn’t that enough for you?”

“I love you too, Jungkook,” you answered. “I’ve loved you since the first day I met you at that stupid party last year.”

Jungkook felt the tear rolling down his cheek, felt the gravity pulling on his heart until it was shattering on the ground.

“Then why stop now?” he asked. “Give me time, Y/n. I’ll graduate, and I’ll be able to move in with you, and to provide for you and give you everything that you need.”

You sighed heavily, finding courage to finally meet his gaze. At the stark finality shining behind your pupils, Jungkook’s knees weakened. His whole fucking body weakened, ready for the blow.

For the end that was coming for you and him like a car barreling down a dead-end street.

“But I’m tired of waiting,” you answered. “I don’t want to spend my life waiting around for someone.”

“I’m still in college, I just can’t move in with you right now…”

“I know, Jungkook. I know.”

He wanted to fight. Wanted to tell you to stay in his dorm tonight, and to never leave again. But he could tell that you were already gone.

So he steeled himself. Readied himself to let you go even though you were the blood in his veins.

“I’m holding you back, aren’t I?”

You wiped a tear on your cheek, blurring behind those in his gaze. “You are.”

He choked on a sob, hiding his eyes behind his hand as if that would stop the breaking. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault,” you reassured him. “We just aren’t at the same place in life anymore.”

An empty silence surrounded you, so loud Jungkook could hear every beat of his heart in his ears, could feel the walls pressing in.

“I don’t want you to go,” he softly said.

“I know,” you murmured. “I…” You choked on a sob, and it took you a moment before you managed to continue. “I’m sorry.”

He laughed, a sound so devoid of joy he wondered if he’d ever feel happiness again. “Please don’t be. You’re allowed to want more.”

“I wish I didn’t.”

Anger rose up on the horizon of Jungkook’s conscience, and he pushed it away. He refused to be angry at you, refused to put the blame on you when you made it clear that you wanted him to move in so long ago, and he disregarded it without even once thinking about it.

“I’ll find you again,” he promised, voice strained and heavy with emotion. “I’ll graduate and find you.”

You stepped closer to him, gently cupping his cheek. “Go find someone that loves you for what you are, Jungkook.”

“And you don’t?”

“I don’t want you to settle for someone that asks too much for you,” you explained, renewed silver lining your eyes. “Find someone that loves you for who you are, right now.”

“Fuck that,” he choked out, and he pulled you flush against his chest. “Fuck this nonsense. ”

“I’m so sorry,” you cried against him.

“Don’t be,” he reassured you, though he was crying too. “Don’t be. Give me a few years. I’ll have it all figured out in a few years.”

*****

The priest at the front of the church is going on and on about something that Jungkook doesn’t care to listen to. It’s impersonal, nothing like you, like the vibrant girl he remembers. So he lets his memory guide him to you, where you’re awaiting him. Your lips on his, your hand running through his hair. Your own hair catching in the wind that time you’d gone hiking, and he’d believed being at the top of the mountain with you felt like he had won in life.

Or that time you’d driven on the coast, windows down, screaming the lyrics to a song he can’t listen to anymore. Now the song is haunted by ghosts of a past he never learned to let go, perhaps because for months after the breakup he’d kept the conviction that he’d find his way back to you. He’d believed it the same way he believed the sun would always rise in the morning. A simple truth of nature, that nothing could ever break.

Except a car accident, apparently. Because all it took was a car accident to wipe you off the surface of the Earth, to take your light and shove it into shadows, into darkness and a void so wide he knows he’ll never find you again.

But he’d believed he’d find his way back to you. Never let anyone in after you, for the months and years it took him to graduate because he always knew he’d find his way back to you. You were his silver lining, the finish line at the end of the race. On a November day, just as sunny as today, Jungkook reached that finish line.

He did find you again, only you never knew.

*****

Jungkook had never felt so light before. Like he had grown wings, like he was soaring in the clouds up above. Though the sun was out, the weather was cold, wind running cold fingers through the lapels of his coat until he found himself shivering as he made his way to the flower store.

He’d get the biggest bouquet for you, and then he’d head to where he knew from a common friend that you lived now. It was Saturday, and he hoped to catch you unaware, to catch you in the middle of cleaning your apartment the same way that you cleaned it back when you were dating.

The image of you, with your hair pulled back in a high ponytail as you danced around instead of sweeping the floor shone in his mind, brighter than the star in the sky above.

He bought the flowers, heart beating fast in his chest. Because it was time. It was finally time to go home, to tell you that he did everything he said he would, that he changed and now had a job that could support what you both wanted. He wanted to ask you out, and in his dreams you had been answering yes every single time since he had decided to go see you.

His heart fluttered as he gently rested the flowers on his passenger seat, careful not to damage them. Memories floated to him, and a smile grew on his lips as he remembered you, screaming out the window that day you had driven along the coast. You had stopped to watch the sunset in the waves, and he’d kissed you stupid on his back seat until every single inch of your skin knew about his love.

He couldn’t wait to create new memories with you.

He drove carefully, enjoying the warmth of the sun now that he was safely hidden from the wind. You actually didn’t live too far from where he did now, and soon enough he parked his car near your building. He got out of the vehicle, almost running to the other side in his excitement to grab the bouquet on the passenger seat. When it was safely tucked in his hand, Jungkook shut the car door, locked it, and started walking to your building.

He didn’t even know which apartment was yours. He believed fate would guide him, and so he crossed the street to your building, trusting the universe for what was to come next.

He heard your laugh before he saw you. Love swelled in his chest, and he wondered if you were laughing because you’d seen him, because you’d known that he’d come back for you.

And then he saw you. The wind was ruffling your hair, which he assumed had prompted the laugh. Your eyes were closed, hands struggling to push the wild strands behind your ears.

You were more beautiful than he remembered. Shone brighter, with the same stuff that stars consisted of. He was struck for a moment, watching you with his bouquet hoping that you’d open your eyes and see him.

The world slowed down to a stop, and time halted, and Jungkook watched you, feeling at home for the first time in years.

The illusion fractured the instant someone else came into view, making him realize that you hadn’t been laughing at the wind. No, perhaps your laughter took root in the dimples gracing the man’s cheeks as he smiled at you, as he pecked your forehead before grabbing your hand.

Jungkook ducked behind a car, clutching the flower bouquet like a lifeline the moment that you turned towards him. Did you hear his heart breaking? Did you hear the mockery in the November sun rays – you’d broken up on a similar day, years ago.

Jungkook couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think around the shattering of his heart, around the blood turning to ice in his veins as he heard you speak to the man – Namjoon, he heard you call him.

He would have rather not known the name.

Still Jungkook drank in the sound of your voice, trying to shape it into the words he was so willing to hear you say today. It didn’t work, and soon enough your voice disappeared, leaving him in a deafening silence of wind and sun and the realization that after all, he had come back too late.

Perhaps he should have known that he'd be too late.

*****

When Jungkook received the call last week, he’d sat outside in the silence until he thought his eardrums would start bleeding. He hadn’t moved, hadn’t breathed, hadn’t done anything other than to stare at the fading light of the sun.

He wonders, why is it that whenever he breaks, November sun is shining high above? As if the universe takes pleasure in his torment, in undoing him until he barely counts as a human being anymore.

He got pissed out drunk that night. Last time he had been as drunk was when he had found out you were dating someone new, that day he had come to find you.

And now he wonders, if he had approached you that day, would you still be dead today? Would life still have put you on that road with its drunk driver so that you could meet your end?

Or would you be laughing at some dumb comment he’d make, telling him that he’s stupid with eyes so full of love he wouldn’t be able to do anything else but agree with you?

It’s hard to tell. So, he doesn’t try to figure it out – he has an eternity ahead of himself to figure out how to live without you anyway.

Maybe in all his misfortune Jungkook actually had some luck. He’s learned to grieve you a while ago already, and perhaps grieving someone that still lives is harder than grieving someone that’s passed. He doesn’t know. He doesn’t think he knows anything. Just that, so far back in the past he should have said fuck it and move in with you. It was such a simple request, but he had been too young and dumb, and he’d forever live with the regrets of it.

If someone from your family notices his presence at the funeral, recognizes him from your shared past, they don’t say. Especially not as the end of the ceremony comes before he’s had a chance to really take in the picture of you, smiling, over there next to the urn with your ashes.

You’re ashes now. Everything that made you – your laugh, your smile, the way you carried yourself with that simple elegance – all of it is gone to be replaced with mere ashes.

He doubts they can hold the truth of your essence, but then again he doesn’t think anything can, or anything ever will again.

He blinks away the tears as they come, leaving the ceremony like a whisper in the wind. He doesn’t want to speak to your family, doesn’t want to see them coddling the man that you loved, that survived the accident when he should have been the one to go.

Jealousy and selfishness are ugly, Jungkook realizes. But it’s easier to hate the man that took you away from him, no matter how unknowingly he did it.

And Jungkook tried to hate you once. He tried hard, in the months after that fated November day, when you’d laughed to that man’s joke, smiled when he’d smiled that soft dimpled smile of his. He had tried, because hating you felt like it was the only way he wouldn’t hurt. But he still hurt – he still hurts.

All he’s been able to do in his life since you broke up is hurt, and he highly doubts he’ll ever feel differently again.

Perhaps he’ll grow numb. Perhaps he should have grown numb a while ago.

At least that’s what he’s telling himself days later, when he’s looking at the tombstone they picked out for you. The finality of your name and the dates, the ending, is unnerving. He wishes it was fake, wishes it was a joke, and that he didn’t spend most of his life loving someone that moved on to a new love in just a few years.

It’s been over a decade and he hasn’t moved on even a little bit.

He kicks the ground, mad at the leaves littering the ground where you’re buried, as if they’re sullying you. And as if laughing at him, sun rays pierce through the clouds up above, that dreaded November sun making an appearance when it should stay gone.

He allows himself to cry. To break down, to sit on the ground and curse everything and everyone that’s ever been between you and him. He curses his stupidity, curses the sun and the leaves and the etchings on the stone. He hates everything. Hates himself, hates you, hates the whole fucking universe for taking you away, for not giving him the chance to be with you.

That’s how Namjoon finds him. Jungkook’s tears have receded, and he’s just sitting there, an empty shell that once held love and laughter and your lips on his. He hears the scuffle of Namjoon’s steps, of his cane as he walks up the path.

The man’s features are grave when Jungkook can’t help but glance towards him, sees him ambling up the path with that cane, the only indication that he too was in that car accident. And Jungkook wonders if Namjoon knows about him. If Namjoon knows that he wasn’t the first man whose love for you was a bottomless ocean, one Jungkook has drowned in time and time again since you broke up.

Namjoon remains standing, and Jungkook remains sitting. Like there’s an understanding between them, and silence conveys more than words could. Jungkook doesn’t want to move, and Namjoon clearly doesn’t have anywhere to go.

Jungkook thinks the Earth has revolved around the sun at least once before Namjoon scrapes his throat.

“It’s hard to believe that she’s gone, isn’t it?” he speaks, deep voice carrying the weight of the universe.

Jungkook doesn’t deign reply as his eyes fill with tears, though he refuses to let them out right now.

Especially not in front of the man you loved after him.

“You’re Jungkook, aren’t you?”

The simple sentence makes Jungkook lose it. He hides his face in his hands, his whole soul bleeding out under the November sun.

“She told me about you,” Namjoon continues, and Jungkook is convinced he hears pain, tears and grief laced with Namjoon’s words.

What did you tell him, Jungkook wonders? Did you tell Namjoon that you should have waited for Jungkook, that you should have given him a chance to become what you needed?

“She loved you a lot,” Namjoon adds after a silence, and he chokes on a sob. “She never forgot about you.”

“Why are you telling me this?” Jungkook asks with that broken voice, raspy with disuse.

He hasn’t been able to speak since you died.

“You deserve to grieve. She loved and loved, and I wish it would have been enough for her to live…”

“Stop,” Jungkook begs. “Please.”

Namjoon falls silent, offering salvation to Jungkook, though Jungkook doesn’t know if he deserves it.

Would he have been able to offer salvation to someone in his position if the situation was reversed? He highly doubts it.

“It’s just…” he trails off when he finds words again. “You got fucking years with her. You got years of loving and-“ it breaks on a sob. “And you were fucking engaged.” Jungkook pulls at his hair. “You were engaged, and all I got was months. Not even a full year.”

“I’m sorry man,” Namjoon answers, voice so broken Jungkook wonders who’s suffering the most.

He doesn’t think it’s himself.

“Was she happy?” Jungkook eventually asks, once he can’t stand the silence hanging around. Once he can’t stand the etchings on the stone, the void in the universe that used to be filled with you.

“I made her as happy as I could,” Namjoon replies truthfully, his voice strained but not as pained anymore. As if he’s reached a conclusion, clarity filling his mind.

Not needing to hear more, Jungkook gets up, dusting himself off.

“Good talk,” he says, fighting against the next onslaught of tears, and then he’s storming off.

Storming away from you, from everything that you meant to him. And maybe the sun rays really are mocking him in that beautiful November sky, because Namjoon says, “I don’t think she ever truly was happy after you, though.”

Jungkook stops, convinced someone just stabbed him right in the heart. He doesn’t think the organ can beat anymore, doesn’t think he can live anymore. He just wants to be dust on the wind, to be forgotten, and to stop fucking feeling all the time.

“She was calling off the engagement,” Namjoon continues. “She…” Jungkook turns, and he doesn’t think he’s ever seen such agony as the one that graces Namjoon’s features right now. “She said she shouldn’t get married to me when she still loved another.”

Clouds pass in front of the November sun, and Jungkook remembers the smile on your face whenever you’d catch his gaze. He remembers the way you’d lovingly cupped his cheek even when you were breaking up with him. He still feels the ghost of your fingers on his skin as he holds Namjoon’s broken gaze.

He holds Namjoon’s broken gaze, unable to offer the man salvation. It might make him a monster, might make him selfish and jealous and everything that he finds disgusting about humanity. But Jungkook doesn’t care.

Not when he realizes that perhaps, perhaps he’s the one that you’re waiting for on the other side of the veil, so that you can rest in the eternity of afterlife together.

And perhaps, perhaps there’s some sort of beauty in the thought.

☆☆☆☆☆

I am crying and in pain and I am sending everyone that read this whole thing lots of love and if you need to talk just hit me up bc grief is a bitch and we hate her and I just wish I could take everyone's grief away

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