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#POPPED HIS NOSE OFF LIKE A FUCKING BOTTLE OPENER
parricider · 1 year
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notiddygxthgf · 8 months
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❛ Talk to me, baby. I'm goin' blind from this sweet, sweet craving, whoa-oh. Let's lose our minds and go fucking crazy. I-I-I-I-I-I keep on hoping we'll eat cake by the ocean. ❜
★ pairings: choso kamo x f!reader
★ synopsis: you and choso find a way to beat the heat.
★ c.w.: sexual tension, PWP, porn without plot, happy ending! au?, idk everyone's happy lol, unprotected sex, loss of virginity, cowgirl in the backseat, creampie, blowjobs, choso has mommy issues lowkey, and the reader caters to them lowkey. dom/sub undertones, choso doesnt know how to deal with his horniness lol, old fashioned, nasty ass sex, just read it you'll love it.
★ a/n: hi baby girls!! I have been holding onto this one for a MINUTE bc I wanted to make sure it's perfect. im doin a lil bit of a kinktober, so send those requests in! I hope u all love it as much as I do. bitchz w mommy issues wya???🗣️🗣️
★ w.c.; 8.6k
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CHOSO LOVED THE BEACH. Not for the reason one might normally proclaim such affection for an otherwise family-friendly pastime, but it was a valid reason nevertheless. He used to hate it, actually, especially when Getou and Mahito would drag him out there on the hottest day of the summer for their stupid villain conventions. He was quite comfortable at home in all of his layers. But there was something about the beach these days, something that had him reconsidering his bias. 
Call him classless, call him perverted. Whatever it was, there was this strange pull towards the beach that had him in a chokehold. He just couldn’t quite place it.
“You’re staring,” Megumi remarked.
Choso’s brow quirked. Letting his head loll to the side, teetering just off the edge of his beach chair, he offered the following words to his brother’s friend. “No, I wasn’t.”
He totally was. The way his sun glasses slid down the bridge of his nose as you walked past the two was a dead giveaway. But, shit, you looked too good to be true. You were this pretty little thing, strutting around in a pretty pink bikini, soaking in the rays of sunlight, and you were bringing a drink to your friend, Maki. Looked like a lemonade. Also looked like booze. It could have been anything, in all honesty, he wasn’t looking there. 
If there was a god out there, he hoped they would forgive him for his ravenous gaze. He had always had a little thing for you, if you will, but the moment you had walked onto the beach today he found himself completely enamored by you.
As you bent down to set the drink in the sand, the bottom of your small pink bikini slipped inward, revealing the smooth, sand-dusted skin of your plump little butt. Then you plopped down on the beach towel next to your friend and popped open the bottle of sunscreen.
Choso watched – rather shamelessly – as you sprayed some of it onto you arm, rubbing it in. You held the canister towards your chest at arms length and released some more of the sheer spray onto the skin there. It trickled down, catching the light of the sun, dripping down between your breasts–
A pair of hairy, pale legs obstructed the view. 
“Found a sand dollar,” Spoke none other than the world’s quirkiest little brother, Yuuji Itadori. In a rather fitting slow-pan up to his face, Choso took note of the dorky goggles that he had popped over his eyes. He was shirtless. You would think that the man would have learned that you don’t need to go deep sea diving at the beach by now. “You guys coming?”
Megumi took the words right out of Choso’s mouth. Or, actually, ‘word’ might be more fitting. 
“No.”
“I’ll pass,” Choso sighed, repositioning his sunglasses over his eyes. Silently, of course, he cursed his brother for putting on such a show in front of – what was he talking about? Choso Kamo… letting his desires cloud his love for his brother? He usually wasn’t this bad. “I thought I threw those out on you?”
“I bought new ones,” Yuuji muttered. He practically tore the goggles from his face, sending locks of pink hair standing up in the air. Tossing them to the side, he plopped between Megumi and Choso on the picnic blanket.
“Of course you did,” Megumi, who had, for a brief – but beautiful – moment been alluded into believing his friend had decided to keep his remarkable lack of social awareness to himself, reached into the cooler they had filled earlier that day and produced a much needed refreshment. 
“Hi!”
Choso, Yuuji and Megumi all turned their heads toward the sound.
It was you. His ‘crush’, as Yuuji had embarrassingly called it. And, shit, you looked even prettier up close. Your hair looked so soft. So did your–
He shook the thoughts away. 
“Sorry to bother ‘ya,” You lowered your head apologetically. You extended your arm out towards the three men. Clutched in your small hand was the bottle of sunscreen you had been using before Yuuji had caught Choso’s attention. “My friend is out cold. Could you just get my back for me?”
Choso felt his face grow red at the mere prospect of being so close to you. He had never had the courage to actually reach out and touch you. He felt as if, for some odd reason he didn’t quite understand, his touch would have killed you. You had always been so sweet to him, offering him small talk, refreshments, and friendly jokes when it was just the two of you away from the group.
“Not a problem, Sensei,” Yuuji replied rather quickly. 
He reached for the bottle. Before he could grab it, Megumi jabbed his elbow harshly into the back of Yuuji’s neck.
“Bitch, ow,” He hissed.
The glare Megumi shot him could have been heard from ten miles away. Choso sighed, refraining from shaking his head.
“I think he’s sick. I’ll bring him to the infirmary,” Megumi added quietly, standing up rather abruptly and taking Yuuji with him. 
Yuuji babbled mindlessly the whole way back.
Highschoolers.
Choso looked back to you. Just you. Alone. He felt his hands get all clammy again. He blamed it on the sun. You were holding the bottle expectantly. 
“Uh… I can… I can help, if you’re okay with that,” He looked away, internally kicking himself for fumbling so hard. 
You only tilted your head at him. Your eyes were so pretty, wide open as they lingered over his body, his eyes, his nose. Your gaze was a wildfire spreading over the expanse of his face.
It was then that he realized he was very, very shirtless.
“‘Kay, thanks,” you smiled softly.
As you laid down on the beach blanket, Choso felt his heart race even faster. He could hardly believe this was all happening – hell, part of him wondered if he had overstepped by offering his services to you. The sun beat down on your skin, his head, the sand – he blamed the warmth flooding his face on the weather. 
You were laid on your stomach only a few inches away, completely oblivious to his moral dilemma. 
He took a deep breath, attempting to calm himself while he reached for the bottle of sunscreen you had set onto the blanket beside you. With hands that trembled ever-so-slightly, he uncapped the bottle and squeezed a small amount onto his palm. The sunscreen was cool to the touch – so, not wanting to cause you even the slightest bit of discomfort, he warmed it up between his hands.
He then hesitantly placed his hands on the smooth valley of your upper back. 
You gasped, twitching beneath his palms. 
“Did I hurt you?” He asked quickly, withdrawing his hands.
“No, sorry,” You sighed, shifting on the blanket and then relaxing once more. “Your hands are cold ‘s all.”
Choso felt the blush coming on all over again. He hoped you wouldn’t turn your head back around and see him like this. “I’m sorry,” he murmured, averting his gaze. 
“You’re all good, hot stuff,” You offered. “You can keep going.”
His face burned like hell at your compliment. He knew you were that way with everyone, dropping little ‘babe’s and ‘honey’s to your friends and fellow sorcerers. He wasn’t anything special, anyway. Surely, you weren’t talking to him.
He replaced his hands on your back, touch delicate like your skin would crack if he pressed too hard. He started with broad strokes, making sure to spread the sunscreen across your skin evenly. His fingers splayed out over your warm, soft skin, moving in circles. He massaged the sunscreen into your back with a tenderness that surprised even himself.
He wasn’t sure what this stuff actually did. He had seen some of Yuuji’s Jujutsu friends slather some on earlier. Judging by the name, he assumed it protected them from the sun. From what, though? Could the sun hurt some humans? He didn’t really understand.
“You’re wondering something,” You asked, seemingly sensing his pensiveness by the way his hands slowed. “Ask away.”
Choso bit the skin on the inside of his lip, “This lotion…” he asked, “What does it do?”
“Sunscreen?” You hummed. “It forms a layer over your skin so you don’t get sunburnt.”
“Sunburnt…” He reiterated. 
“Yeah, that shit hurts,” You added. “I’m guessing Itadori never gave you the run-up on beach necessities…?”
“I guess not,” He remarked quietly.
“I can show you how to apply yours if you want,” You said.
Choso’s heart felt like it would burst. “Okay,” he said, pausing slightly. “I’d like that, thanks.”
Then he was back to his job. His hands smoothed over your back, dipping down a little lower until his thumb brushed against the strap of your bikini. He felt suddenly aware of how soft and warm you felt beneath his touch. 
He was dangerously close to the knot in the string that held your whole getup together. He worried for a moment that the dainty bow would come undone – by some strange, supernatural turn of events – despite him making a great effort to move around it. 
Choso’s breath hitched when his finger caught on the string, making the knot snap against your skin. He froze up, heart pounding in his chest, perfectly still over your body. The string felt like a fragile barrier between your warm skin and his cold touch, between your body and the thoughts that raced through his mind.
He wondered if you found him weird and off-putting. His gaze flickered up to your face, leaning over slightly, searching your face for any sign of discomfort. 
But when he looked into your eyes, he found you were looking at him with the same curiosity. You smiled at him, pretty lips forming a reassuring expression, wordlessly encouraging him to keep going. 
Slowly, unsurely, Choso continued his ministrations. He trailed two digits down your spine, stopping at the string. He felt a knot beneath the skin there. He knew sorcerers put themselves through rigorous training. He didn’t doubt that you were feeling sore from the mission you had just come back from a few days ago.
“You’re tense here,” He said quietly.
You turned your head to look at him, “Yeah?” 
“Right here,” He pinpointed the exact area with his knuckles, pressing deep into the tissue. 
In response, you moaned quietly, back shifting beneath his touch. His shorts seemed to get just a little bit tighter. 
Calm down.
“You got magic hands, Choso,” You quipped, though your voice was strained as he passed over the knot a second time. “You could be a masseuse.”
He felt his nerves subside only slightly, though he felt flustered by your words.
You got magic hands.
You could be a masseuse.
Unbeknownst to him, the sensation of his touch created a pleasant tingling beneath your skin. You closed your eyes, letting him take the reins.
Choso continued to work his fingers over your back, feeling the tension slowly melt away beneath his touch. He had used up the last of the sunscreen to cover your lower back, the skin just above your bottom, and he realized his job was done.
“I think that should do it,” He said softly, voice tinged with reluctance as he removed his hands from your back.
You sat up, stretching, turning towards him, eyes sparkling, “Thanks, Cho, you’re a lifesaver.”
You’re a lifesaver.
A shy smile tugged at his lips, “Of course.”
Then, to his surprise, you asked. “You’re sweet. Mind if I sit with you?”
Choso felt his heart skip more than one beat. His eyes widened. He looked at the sand, the shoreline, anything but you. “Sure,” he said.
Smooth, dumbass.
You grinned and pushed yourself up, saying, “I’ll be right back.”
Choso took a moment to collect his thoughts as you left. He was getting ahead of himself. Way ahead of himself. Stll, you had chosen to spend more time with him. You wanted to sit with him. 
Conveniently, only a brief moment after you had stepped away, Megumi returned with Yuuji in tow. Choso quirked a brow at the speed of their return.
“That was quick,” he remarked.
Megumi shrugged, “Took him to get ice cream on the boardwalk instead.”
“You get her number?” Yuuji asked.
“I was doing her a favor,” Choso’s calm facade broke. With wide eyes, he hissed, “Pervert.”
“Dumbass,” Yuuji sucked his teeth.. “Look, tonight’s the night to make a move. When else would you find yourself alone with her like this?”
And before Choso could respond, you came back, holding a speaker in one hand. “I brought snacks!” You smiled.
Some time around sundown, sometime after Getou had summoned up one of his low-grade curses to start a fire, the beach day transformed itself into a fireside chat. It was a picturesque scene. The sky was a canvas of blue, with hues of pink and orange painted over the horizon. It was mostly empty there, now. The waves lapped calmly at the shore, a quiet noise that seemed to accompany the quiet chatter of friends gathered around a fire.
There was laughter, groups of people indulged in conversations. Everyone seemed so calm, so happy, it almost seemed to good to be true.
Megumi and Itadori were caught in a cock-off with Maki. Nobara stargazing on her and Maki’s beach blanket. Gojo and Getou were talking in his direction, but not necessarily at him.
“I just think you have an unfair drinking advantage because you’re a man,” You were saying just off to Choso’s side.
The mood was light. Everyone seemed to be content. 
Choso, however, couldn’t seem to tear his eyes away from you. The warm, fading sunlight seemed to caress your features from the side, highlighting your pretty smile and making your eyes shimmer. He found himself completely and utterly enamored by you.
You and Getou had cracked open a bottle of Tequila about an hour ago. Getou’s boyfriend long-term-long-distance-low-commitment-casual-boyfriend, Satoru Gojo was red in the face, slouched against the bare chest revealed by Getou’s unbuttoned floral shirt. 
“Whatever helps you sleep at night,” Gojo chuckled, letting Getou top off his fourth shot of the night.
Getou denied any relationship with Gojo. Their eyes betrayed them, though. The connection was evident in the loving glances they exchanged. 
You had a faint flush of your own, though you had only taken two shots so far.
He tried two of his own, only because you didn’t want to do them alone. He had never been big on drinking. He just didn’t want to seem like a pussy.
“Why don’t you pour me one so we can test that theory?” Nobara nudged you in the side.
Choso watched the scene unfold with mild interest.
“Because you’re a minor,” You said.
Nobara pouted, leaning back onto her blanket. “Not like I’ve never drank before.”
Maki chimed in over her shoulder, “Got vomit stains on my carpet to prove it.”
“Shut up,” She bit back. 
You handled the situation effortlessly. “I don’t condone teen drinking,” You began, your voice softening as you continued, “But. I know the four you will probably go hit up one of those beachside bars tonight with your fake IDs anyway.”
“Fake IDs?” Gojo looked at Megumi out of the corner of his eye. Megumi did not look back.
You clapped. Choso’s ears perked up at the sound.
“That being said!” You raised your voice a bit. “I would rather you drink something less potent. Under adult supervision.”
You turned to Getou and Gojo, who exchanged knowing glances before nodding their approval. Choso couldn’t help but be impressed.
“So who wants a Malibu rum spritzer?” You clasped your hands together.
Excitement rippled through the group, and all of the kids, yes all of the kids, Including Yuuji, eagerly raised their hands. 
Choso shot his brother a disapproving glare, one that dissipated the moment you leaned in, laying your head on his shoulder. Your voice, soft and smooth like your skin, enticed him as you sing-songed, “Let the kid live a little.”
It was rather remarkable, actually, how quickly his defenses melted at your gentle persuasion. He sighed in resignation. “Alright.”
You grinned up at him, effortlessly stealing his breath away. 
“Great,” you said, getting up from your spot without another word. “I’ll go get them from my car. Don’t wait up for me, I walk real slow.”
Turning your attention back to Choso, you looked at him with a warmth behind your gaze he couldn’t quite place. “Choso, sweetie, could you help me carry the cooler?”
His heart soared at your request – at the prospect of you wanting his assistance. He got to his feet quickly, eager to help. 
The sand felt cool beneath his feet as he followed your lead. 
The moon hung low in the sky as you and Choso strolled through the parking lot, searching for your jeep. The temperature had dropped quite a few notches from earlier, cold breeze rustling through Choso’s hair. 
When you spotted your ride, you said, “There it is!”
Choso followed wordlessly behind you. He was still quite nervous that – for the second time today – it was just you and him… alone. Yuuji’s words echoed through his mind.
“When else would you find yourself alone with her like this?”
You popped the door to the backseat open, sitting on the floor – your truck was raised a bit off the ground, so it didn’t put you too far below him. 
“My legs are so fucking sore,” You sighed. You dusted your leg off with the backside of your bare foot. When you peered up at him through those long, dense lashes of yours, he felt himself fall for you a second time. 
You asked him, “Mind if we take a little break?”
Choso nodded along like the dumb little dog he was for you.
You pushed yourself up and away from the truck, gesturing for him to get inside. It didn’t take much at all for him to step into it and take a seat. You settled in right next to him – perhaps a little closer to Choso than was strictly necessary. He couldn’nt help the pleasant shiver that went down his spine at the feeling of you sitting next to him; so warm, so soft, so perfect.
You let out a contented sigh and leaned your head on his shoulder once more. “I got tired of bein’ social,” You confessed.
He tried hard not to quirk a brow at the admission. Am I an exception?
“Do you want me to leave you alone?” He asked sincerely. He tried even harder to ignore the warm weight of your small head on his shoulder.
So close.
“No,” You hummed quietly. The interior light faded away, gently submerging the two of you in darkness. He could still see your face, your eyes – the way they seemed to sparkle as they looked up at him. “You’re different.”
Choso’s heart took the liberty of skipping one, two, three beats. 
You continued without allowing him time to come up with an adequate response. “Can I be honest with you, Choso?”
His cheeks flushed. Still, curiosity piqued, he muttered, “Of course.”
Your voice was soft and vulnerable when you replied, “I think you’re really hot.”
If his face wasn’t hot, it sure was now. He turned away even though he knew you couldn’t see him blushing. 
She thinks I’m hot?
Does that mean she likes me?
You had nothing but sincerity in your eyes while you gazed up at him. “You feel the same way, don’t you?”
He bit his tongue, answering honestly, “I do.”
He hated how calm and collected he sounded. On the outside, he was the image of composure. On the inside, he was dying a hundred times over. 
You grinned at his admission. “Can I ask you something else, then?”
His lips suddenly felt very dry. He tried his best to focus on the street outside, counting landmarks and objects like his life depended on it – two seagulls, five wooden posts, two dim street lights.
“Sure,” he said.
“Can I kiss you?” You asked. “I’ve been thinking about it all day.”
And, dammit, when you asked him like that – he could practically feel the last of his resolve crumble beneath your gaze, beneath the weight of your head on his shoulder, beneath your gentle touch on his knee that he hadn’t noticed until now.
You were so close. So close that if he turned his head, angled it down just slightly, your noses would touch. He felt your breath, warm and steady against his neck – a calming symphony that contrasted the trembling mess he had become,
Yuuji’s words played on repeat again. Tonight’s the night to make a move.
He was such a fool for you. Still, he considered himself to be a man of restraint.
His voice was small and scarce, hardly above a whisper when he breathed out, “Yeah.”
Time seemed to slow down as your request hung out in the air. He could feel the anticipation building, buzzing. His heart pounded against his ribcage like a mallet to a gong. He had spent months wondering what would happen if you – by some odd, small chance – returned his affections, and now, with your vulnerability laid bare, he couldn’t resist any longer.
He considered himself to be a man of restraint, that was, until he peered into your wide, longingful eyes. 
With a barely noticeable nod, Choso turned his head just slightly, his eyes locking onto yours. Just as he had anticipated, your noses brushed together – he could feel the warmth of your breath on his lips. 
You were magnetic.
And in that final, heart-pounding moment, your lips met in the middle – in a gentle, tender union. Choso’s hand seemed to find its own way to your cheek, touch soft as he cupped your cheek. He felt for some odd reason that you might vanish altogether if he let you go.
He wasn’t entirely sure if it had been you or him who deepened the kiss. Either way, he felt himself melt into the seat. The world outside seemed to fade away, ceasing to exist in your presence. None of it mattered – not the empty, public street, not the group of friends waiting on the beach for his return.
Yuuji. 
Choso pulled away with a shuddering gasp, pressing his forehead against yours. He licked his lips, panting, “The drinks… We– we should probably– uh… get those.”
He feared that if his heart beat any faster he would explode.
You made no effort to put any distance between you and him. In fact, you put your hands on his shoulders, moving yourself so that you were situated comfortably in his lap. 
“There’s no rush,” You hummed. “Getou and Gojo are probably off sucking face somewhere, and those kids have been keeping themselves entertained just fine. Who would notice?”
His eyes were everywhere but your face. For a half-curse, he found himself to be no better than a man, hungry eyes wandering over your body – your eyes, your lips, the subtle curve of your waist, the fabric of your bikini that seemed like it was hugging you just right.
You seemed to have caught him in the act. 
“Do you wanna touch me, Choso?” You asked, and it sounded like an invitation.
Still, he worried he was reading too deeply into things. Doing his best to refrain from making you feel any sort of discomfort, he swallowed, “I…”
He was about to fucking explode – both metaphorically and physically, judging by the way his shorts began to tighten again at your words.
“You think I didn’t see you staring today?” You continued, letting your fingers slip into his hair. 
He wanted to freeze up, wanted to feel some form of remorse, but when you were massaging his scalp so gently, so lovingly…
“I’m  sorry,” he lied.
“Don’t be,” You giggled, and he felt his stomach do a fucking flip at the sound of it. You leaned in close to him, close to his ear, and whispered into it, “I was staring, too.”
He felt like such a virgin, thighs tensing up at your admission. He thought of you on the beach again – sneaking sideways glances at him, at his body, at him…
He felt his resolve break when you pressed a soft kiss to the shell of his ear. 
“Kiss– Kiss me again,” he breathed, feeling slightly lightheaded from all of the attention you were giving him. You placed another kiss to the corner of his jaw. “Please… kiss me again.”
You pulled away, pressing your nose right up against his again. Your breaths were shallow and ragged now – strange. “You want me, baby boy?”
Baby boy. Baby boy, fuck.
He licked his lips, “Please.”
And then your lips were on his without so much as another word. You ate him up like a starved woman, teeth nipping at his lower lip for entry.
The last of his restraint flew out the window.
The kiss was electrifying, sent sparks shooting through his veins, fingertips tingling as they found their way to your hips. It was a wildfire, consuming everything in its path. He could taste you – the sweetness of your lipgloss as it smeared messily over the lower half of his face, the beat of your heart thrumming beneath his touch, the scent of sunscreen that lingered on your skin.
He found himself getting lost in the moment.
He deepened the kiss further, gripping your hips, your lower back with a bit more confidence. For a moment, he could forget about his responsibilities, his past. It didn’t matter; not now, not when he could feel your body pressed up against him, hot and soft and compliant.
His face burned when he felt that familiar tingling feeling – he knew he was getting hard beneath you, he could feel the way your hips lifted when you adjusted yourself over the tent in his shorts. 
However, to his surprise, you didn’t pull away. Instead, you pressed into him, wrapping your arms around his neck and bringing yourself even closer. He felt dizzy, sliding his tongue across your wet lips, exploring your mouth. You tangled your fingers in his touseled black locks, rolling your hips against his slowly, hesitantly, like you were testing the waters. 
The jolt of electricity he felt from that small movement had him pulling away. Even in the midst of the fervor, Choso was acutely aware of his own impulses. He feared he was getting too far ahead of himself; if you kept rubbing yourself against him like that, he was gonna cream his fucking pants like a middle schooler.
“Wait, wait– ah–” He grunted, leaning back against the seat.
“Hmm?” You hummed – still, you only slowed down a little bit.
His mouth hung open. It felt so good, the friction, the feeling of your warmth rolling up and down the thin layer of fabric separating the two of you. Fuck — why did he tell you to stop, again?
He fought hard to regain his composure. “I– I’ve never done this before,” he stammered.
“Really?” You asked, teasingly, almost, like you knew the effect you had on him. You rutted up against him again, a little harder. “You’re a natural.”
He could feel you – the thin cloth covering your nether regions left little to the imagination. You felt so warm, so welcoming. He ached to pull the thin fabric to the side and sink into you.
Fuck. Stop. He turned his head away, at war with his impulses.
Again, for a half-curse, he felt like nothing more than a man. A weak man, and it was all your fault.
The whine that left his mouth felt anything but natural. “Won’t– What if someone sees us?”
You said nothing. When he looked back at you, you were undoing the knot behind your head – the one holding your bikini together.
His eyes went wide. If his attraction to you were any more obvious, his jaw would have been on the floor. 
“Let them watch,” You grinned. Then you let your top fall over, breasts spilling out like something out of a porno. 
He was in awe. You were perfect. There were little bits of sand stuck to the skin where your bikini lay only seconds prior, faint tanlines already forming over your skin. He felt his mouth water.
“You can touch them, if you want,” You answered his unasked question.
And he wasted no time, gently cupping one of your tits with his large, warm palm. He gave it an experimental squeeze. Then another. Then his thumb wandered down to your nipple, giving the bud a gentle flick.
You whind, hand sliding up the back of his head. 
She likes that, he noted.
So, deciding to take his experiment a step further – and for the sake of conserving time, he began peppering kisses to your hot skin, to the valley between your soft, plush mounds. He held both in his hands, rolling his thumb over the hardened buds to compensate for the lack of attention.
He wanted nothing more than to take his sweet, precious time with you – committing every curve and valley of your body to memory. But, alas, he knew you were on a time crunch. Any minute now, someone could find the two of you here, like this.
He kissed his way back over to his hands. Then, finally, he wrapped his lips around that place he knew made you feel good. 
Sure enough, you arched into him, pink, swollen lips parting to release a pant of his name, “Choso, baby.”
He flattened his tongue over the tip of your nipple, rolling over it in slow circles – then quicker ones, until he felt the spit gathering between his lips and your skin. You responded in kind by rutting against him a little faster. He had never felt a burn quite so delightful in his life.
He can’t quite help himself from letting out a little whine when you tug on his hair. The flavor of sunscreen and salt lingered on your skin. He felt hot– you were hot, oh so hot.
Before he could return the favor on the other nipple, you pushed him away. You looked disheveled, pupils blown wide, hair frizzed up.
“Y’feel so big,” You gasped, still humping his hard cock like a dog in heat. You stopped, but only to sink into the space between his legs and the back of the driver’s seat. Splaying your fingers over his thighs, his shorts, you panted, “Wanna taste. Can I?”
He could only blink up at you. This isn’t real.
“Of course, baby,” He replied, throwing the nickname from earlier back at you, already reaching for the strings of his swim trunks when you batted his hands away. Your enthusiasm made his head spin.
He let you take the reigns – watching with hungry, lustful eyes as you undid the bow yourself. You reached for the waistband of his shorts, tugging them down and letting his dick spring free. 
It nearly hit you in the face, how big the thing was. He had never actually thought about it that way, at least, not until now, when you were gazing up at it with wide eyes and wet, parted lips. 
Your eyes were on his tip, glistening with a bead of precum, then wandering down the shaft as the two of you watched it drip.
“Are you sure about this?” He asked.
You didn’t bother pulling his pants the rest of the way down, or even acknowledging his comment. No, the moment the waistband was out of the way, you were swallowing him whole.
Choso exhaled sharply, nearly doubling over at the sensation of your warm mouth closing in around him. He felt the muscles in his abdomen tense with the strain of it – he thought he could cum like this, with your lips stretched around him, and he didn’t really think he would mind testing that theory.
His skin was hot. He burned for you.
You pulled up. Sucking him back into your mouth, you hollowed your cheeks. Then you throated him again, right up until your nose brushed his navel. He felt himself throb in your mouth.
“Fuck, ‘s good,” He heard himself whimper weakly, tangling a trembling hand in your hair while you picked up the pace.
And you went at it like you were made for it. Up and down, up and down, fitting him all the way in until the head of his cock bumped the back of your throat. Over and over again, until his vision blurred a bit at the edges, mind a little hazy with lust.
You were sucking and slurping on him so lewdly – fuck, he could die like this. 
You didn’t show any signs of stopping, either.
He moaned – much to his embarrassment – actually moaned. You were working him rather quickly up to what he knew would be an earth shattering (albeit poorly timed) orgasm. 
You made a noise in response, though it was broken up by the nasty, dirty sound you made every time you gagged on his dick. You peered up at him through half-lidded eyes, through long, wispy lashes, leaving a trail of saliva running down his thighs that he didn’t even mind.
Choso caressed the side of your face, biting his lip. “Mmh,” he panted, “You do it so well.”
In response, you put a hand over his. You directed his gentle touch to the top of your head, instructing him to push down. Hesitantly, gently, he began to guide your head, bobbing you back and forth on his length while you sat back and let him use you. 
He noticed that you were struggling to fit the whole thing in your mouth. He saw that there were tears pricking at the corners of your eyes, but he knew you were determined. He used his thumb to wipe your tears away, tucking your hair behind your ears to keep it out of your face.
With a shudder and a whine, he pushed your head down a little further. You gagged on it again, swallowing him down, tightening your throat around him like you were made to suck dick.
If this was to be his last night alive, he would die a happy man.
His legs felt weak, as did his arms. You took over, gently assisting him in fucking your mouth. 
“Ah– nnh, you’re–” He licked his lips, guiding your head while allowing you to continue setting your own pace. You were making him feel so good, so hot.
You pulled back for a moment to slurp unceremoniously on his tip, letting spit drip down his shaft. You wrapped your hands around him, working what you couldn’t fit into your mouth while your tongue did tricks on his tip – circles, shapes, letters, he didn’t even know anymore.
He felt like he was going dumb.
Just as he leaned his head back into the seat, you pulled off, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. 
“Got carried away,” You giggled breathlessly. “Sorry.”
Then you were climbing right back into his lap, bracing your hands on his shoulders, kissing him with a ravenous hunger. 
“I’m not gonna blue ball you, don’t worry,” You licked your lips. Reaching down, you slipped the fabric of your bikini thong to the side. “I want you.”
“H–...” He trailed off, fighting to catch his breath – better yet, to regain his surroundings. “How do you want me?”
In that moment, he wanted nothing more than to feel you sink down onto him, to feel your warmth envelop him entirely. He wanted you to ride him past the point of hypersensitivity. He wanted you to use him until you were satisfied – like some sort of fuck toy.
He didn’t care anymore. He had left his inhibitions at the door. 
“Wanna fuck you right here, like this,” You muttered against his lips, licking a stripe from his chin all the way to his cupid’s bow. You guided the head of his dick between your folds, smearing your slick all over him in a way that made him arch up. “Wanna drain that pretty cock of yours, wanna cum all over it– can you do that for me?”
You were so nasty… so dirty that he found himself a red, blushing mess at your words. But, still…
For you?
Anything.
“Yes,” he groaned. He felt like he was going to melt if he waited another moment longer. “Fuck, please, use me until you’re satisfied.”
He hadn’t even thought about saying it. It had slipped out.
You paused, blinking down at him with wide, lustful eyes. Finally, you said, “you’re such a good puppy, you know that?”
He would be whatever the hell you wanted him to be.
“G’nna let me ride you, pretty boy?” You cooed, sliding your hands up his torso, up his bare chest, up his shoulders while you hovered over him. 
This was moving quickly. Not like he had any objections to that, of course. Clearly, you didn’t either. As you positioned the tip in line with your dripping cunt, sinking down onto him, he felt his eyes roll back into his head.
He gasped, letting his eyelids fall shut. He didn’t even care that he was losing his virginity in the backseat of his coworker’s truck like some cheap whore. He would let you take it, take more, take everything you wanted from him.
You lifted your hips and then sank down on him again, eliciting a strangled grunt of your name from him. The filthy squelching sound your cunt made as it squeezed him in threw him for a loop.
He leaned forward, shivering, burning his head in your neck. “S’too tight,” he panted, though he let you continue working on him with a remarkable amount of ease – sliding back and forth in a way that had the both of you panting for more. “Fucking– shit, ah–”
“Chosooo– ‘S so big,” You moaned his name like it was made of honey, fucking yourself down onto his dick, letting all of the sinful noises flow from your lips. “Fuck, feel it in my guts.”
He would have thought you were lying to him if it weren’t for your spectacle earlier.
“You’re fucking perfect,” he breathed. When he looked up at you again, he couldn’t tear his eyes away. You were the image of pornographic beauty – sinful, beautiful, sultry. Your brows were scrunched together with concentration, legs trembling around him as you slowed down to savor the way he worked you open.
“Pretty baby,” He mused, running his hands over your stomach, your hips. “You keep goin’ like that ‘n– fuck– I won’t– Last long.”
“Mmh,” you giggled.
Then you picked up the speed a bit, like you hadn’t even heard what he had just said. You were rising and sinking on his dick with newfound purpose, chasing after the promise of paradise like a wild animal.
“Look at me,” he begged, eyes half-lidded and desperate, tongue running across his lower lip. “Fu-uck– please, ‘M...”
You obeyed, meeting his gaze with such a fiery passion that he almost wished he hadn’t asked you – feeling that coil in his gut grow a little tighter when your hazy eyes were on him. You bounced obediently on his cock, up and down, up and down until you were a grunting, groaning mess. 
“Mm… fuckkk,” You sighed, hips faltering a bit. “Feels good, Choso.”
Choso felt his hips twitch beneath you, hands tensing on your backside. Then, slowly, he began to meet your thrusts midway. His ass lifted off of the seat, legs spreading a bit further apart while he used his strength to continue fucking you senseless.
He was mesmerized by you, by the way you clenched and squeezed him, by the way your mouth lolled open to make way for broken cries of his name, by the way your tits bounced in his face whenever he thrusted up into you.
He worried for a moment that he was being too harsh with you. 
“Harder– please!” You gasped, clawing at his shoulders, at his chest.
Still, he obeyed. He fucked you dumb, hips snapping up against your ass with such strength that the whole car lurched forward. Your head came dangerously close to the ceiling.
But he didn’t have the guts to stop. Not when you were screaming for him, repeating his name like some sort of mantra. He was as weak for you as he had always been.
“Choso– Choso–”
The feeling of your warm, wet walls massaging the head of his cock had him whimpering into the crook of your neck. It was a hot, gummy abyss he wouldn’t mind getting sucked into for the remainder of his life. 
“You like that?” He asked you, spare hand sliding up from your hips, past your breasts, to your neck. 
He knew now that you liked it rough. He could provide that. 
So, with no further warning, he gripped your hip roughly, sliding into you at full force. You cried out his name again, fingernails digging into his skin. 
The car bounced every time he pounded up into you. Faster, faster. 
It felt like you were squeezing him for dear life. 
Choso cried out, a broken whine as he slowed his thrusts for a minute to a much slower pace. Feeling your perfect pussy clenching around him, he nearly doubled over from the sudden pleasure. “Please,” he gasped, laying his head back. “Fuck, that’s good.”
You bit your lip, sliding up until it was just the tip left inside of you, and then slamming back down onto him at full force. You repeated this action a few more times, lips parted to make way for the sinful… sultry moans that passed from between them. Clearly, you were relishing in the way he squirmed and gasped beneath you.
He couldn’t blame you. He knew that he, too was doing everything he could to commit this scene to memory, wild eyes raking over your body, over the junction where you met him. The way you were riding him… shit, he didn’t know he would be able to make the walk back. 
You looked so obscene like this, all fucked out, dumb on his dick.
Throwing your head back, you groaned.
He was gripping your hips hard enough to bruise. Fuck, he knew that– cursed strength and all. But he couldn’t bring himself to slow down.
“So f-fucking good,” he stammered. He sought out your lips again, snapping his hips up against your ass mercilessly. For someone who had been so concerned about being discovered a little while ago, his quiet grunts and gasps turned into moans and whimpers against your sore lips. Louder and louder.
Admittedly, though, he was more focused on the noises coming out of your own mouth. You were practically screaming for him.
He had no idea that sex could even feel so mind-numbingly good. For him, especially, but for you…?
You froze up rather suddenly, hips spasming wildly, toes curling up on either side of his thighs while you gasped brokenly. 
“FUCK!”
There it was.
He felt his face burn. You cried his name again, bouncing up and down on it, wildly chasing after that high. “Choso– m’close–”
“You gonna cum, pretty girl?” He hummed, once again throwing your nickname back at you. He grinned, knowing full and well that he had cracked the code. So he kept that same speed, same pace, same everything while his fingers dropped from your neck to the mess you had made between the two of you.
He knew what to do now – surprisingly enough. He had done some… internet research after his brother had broken the meaning of his feelings down to him (along with what Choso was to do when his crush came to fruition). 
What? Curses didn’t make love. Sex was transactional.
He was curious about how sex was on the human side of things.
He ran his tongue over his thumb, reaching between the steamy, sweaty union of your bodies to find your clit. He pressed down, rolling over the nub in quick, expert circles. 
One look up at you, and he knew you were close to your breaking point. You looked like you were about to pass out, letting yourself be thrown around on his wild hips like a ragdoll. You were too weak to move, so you sat there and took his dick like a good girl, eyes glazed over with pleasure while he fucked you dumb.
You looked like you were in love.
Choso sped his ministrations over your clit up a little faster, feeling the knot in his own stomach begin to grow faster than he wanted. He was in another world, out of this plane, hypnotized. 
All he could see in that moment was your angelic face above him, face scrunched up in pleasure – and partially in pain, as he bullied his cock into your cervix – sweat rolling down your neck, your breasts, your voluptuous body.
“Mine–” You gasped out, clawing at his shoulder blades while your back arched. “Oh– fuck! Th’s dick ‘s mine, mmh?”
It was.
He nodded. But, clearly, that wasn’t good enough. Your hand shot out to grip him by the neck, painted fingernails digging into his throat. 
“‘S yours,” He gasped back into your mouth. “All yours, I swear– ah–”
You were so hot. It made him feel things– feel like he was dying over and over again in the best way possible.
That along with the way your hand gripped his throat – using your small thumb to cut off his blood supply for a few seconds too long before loosening your grip, letting him gasp for air as the blood came rushing back – he felt lightheaded.
The way your pussy was spasming around him certainly didn’t do anything to help. He knew you were close, shit, but could you hold on a minute?
You were gonna make him cum too fast.
“You’re mine, yeah?” You asked again, keeping your grip strong on his neck. “All mine?”
“M’yours,” The cursed womb grunted against your neck. His brows were furrowed in concentration. His teeth nipped at the sensitive skin, careful not to leave marks. “All yours.”
He meant it. Even though he would have said anything you asked him to at this point, he really meant it. He hoped you knew that.
Judging by the way you came a moment later with a stutter of your hips and a strangled cry of, “Cho–”, he assumed you understood. 
Your cunt was a warm, wet, death trap, walls milking his cock for all it was worth. 
Shit, he thought. You really weren’t lying about that.
His dark eyes were burning into yours, burning with a desire so intense he felt he might burst at the seams if he kept looking a moment longer. 
“Want you to cum inside of me,” You commanded him, holding his head in your trembling hands. “Fill me up, please, I need it.”
His eyes widened, blinking down at the white ring you had made around the base of his dick. His eyes flitted back up to you, pleading with you to let him go. Pleading for you to give the soul that you stole from him back,
“I can’t–” he released a trembling breath.  
He thought of himself as a father raising a child. Right now, it didn’t seem so bad.
“Please, ‘m on the pill,” you begged him, gazing into his eyes like you knew he wasn’t strong enough to refuse. “Wanna feel it dripping out of me. Think about it– what– ah– what would they think? … If they knew–”
You gasped when he delivered a harsh smack to your ass, slowing his strokes so that he could savor the way you sucked him in. “If they knew we snuck off to fuck? That– that I had your cum dripping out of me while they ask what took us so long?”
“Fuckk,” Choso groaned, hips trembling beneath you. His dark hair was plastered to his forehead with sweat, cheeks burning. His breaths – and yours – had fogged the windows up.
You squeezed around him one more time, placing a tender kiss to his lips. You muttered into his mouth, “Do it f’me… please, Choso.”
“Mmh–!” And that was all it took. Choso rolled his hips up into you one more time, twitching, whining, feeling your warmth spasm around him as he spilled into you. He drove as deep up into you as he could – holding onto you for dear life while the coil snap, and he came so hard that his legs gave out. Lots of it. 
So much that he felt it drip out.
You sought another kiss from him, sealing your lips together. When you pulled away, you giggled, “Good boy. Good puppy.”
“God,” he shuddered, falling back against the headrest once his orgasm subsided. You fell against his chest, snuggling up to him.
And Choso, not knowing what else to do, pressed a kiss to the top of your head. To his surprise, you didn’t immediately leave him in the dust. Instead, the two of you sat in comfortable silence, basking in the warmth of your post-coital bliss. 
You broke the silence after a minute or two. 
“So…” You began, trailing a finger up his bare chest. “Help me carry that cooler back to the beach?”
And Choso, breathless, felt himself begin to laugh.
The two of you came back onto the beach. Choso was carting the cooler behind while you walked ahead, waving your friends down. 
As you approached, Itadori remarked with crossed arms, “The hell have you guys been?” His hair was done up into two, pink, little pigtails. It was clear as day that Nobara had a hand in his current hairstyle.
“Oh!” You had grinned rather awkwardly, rubbing the back of your neck with your hand. “We– Well, we realized we didn’t have as many spritzers as I thought. Had to make a run to the liquor store.”
Itadori raised a brow. Still, if he noticed something, he didn’t say anything about it. “Uh huh.”
Choso bent down to set the cooler onto the ground, back turned to the group.
Getou peeped up from his paperback novel, lips twitching at the sight of Choso’s back. He nudged his counterpart, Gojo.
Who nearly spat out his drink.
You sat on the beach blanket nearest to Gojo and Getou. The moment your butt hit the sand, you practically collapsed into the ground. 
You could feel eyes on you. So, begrudgingly, you rolled over, throwing Satoru a weak glare. “What?”
He only nodded towards Choso.
You turned around, following his gaze. It settled over his back. He bent down, picking a few spritzers out of the ice. It was then that you noticed the harsh red claw marks on his shoulderblades. 
Subconsciously, your gaze drifted down to your hips, to the skin where purple imprints of Choso’s fingertips stood out as clear as day.
You gasped, then, clamping a hand over your mouth.
“So,” Gojo began casually, handing you a shot. He leaned in, ocean blue eyes twinkling as he teased you, “Was he gentle? He seems like he would give it rough.”
You turned to his not-boyfriend, brows furrowed. “Suguruuu…”
It was with no great amount of satisfaction that Getou looked up from his novel. “Satoru,” he sighed languidly. “Not in front of ths kids.”
Gojo ignored his not-boyfriend’s remark. “Was it big?”
You sank back into the blanket, feeling the heat of your embarrassment burn your cheeks as your words from earlier came back to bite you in the ass.
Who would notice?
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a/n: hello there my precious little sugarplums! I hope u enjoyed the first installment of my kinktober writings ( which will prob continue throughout the fall bc I started hella late ). send in requests! there's no part two to this, but I would write one if enough ppl requested it. yk the drill though, comment ur thoughts/wishes below! I love reading them. reblogs are alway always always appreciated bc my reach is ass on Tumblr...
I obviously do not own jjk or anything related to it. please do not reproduce, copy, or translate my works anywhere. dont fk w me im a bruja.
credits: cover artist(s) unknown??, dividers: @bpdier, @cafekitsune
taglist: @missphanosaur18 , @bontensbabygirl, @megumissunshine, @chocoyanchan, @littlelovebug98, @lucisimpongod, @xochyw, @jaegerstan222 , @electro-supremacy, @mellytheteddy, @clover0310 , @soraya-daydreams, @priussy, @insanehumantinker, @staygoldsquatchling02, @nonksity, @hinata7346, @chososwhoresblog, @mindurownbussines , @hearts4sid , @simplefools , @ynjimenez
wanna join the taglist? | like this story? read more! | requests open!
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puppy-steve · 1 month
Text
eddie rubs his hands together as their waitress, cindy, sets his breakfast sampler and strawberries and cream crepes in front of him. he's already reaching for the ketchup and maple syrup to drown his food in.
steve thinks it's too early for him look that gleeful in the middle of an ihop. it's barely nine in the morning.
"give me a shout if you boys need anything else," cindy says as she sets down steve's smokehouse combo and new york cheesecake pancakes. "i'll be over to top your coffee off in a minute."
"thank you, cindy," they call as she walks away.
steve takes a sip of his coffee and watches eddie pop open the ketchup to smother his eggs and hashbrows with, the tip of his tongue poking out of the corner of his lips.
he resists the urge to lean across the table and kiss him, only because they're in public and steve also doesn't want to risk getting food all over the front of his shirt.
but when eddie squeezes the bottle, it makes a farting noise and all the comes out is a watery splash of red.
"aw no." eddie's face falls into an adorable pout. "not the ketchup pre-cum."
steve sputters and almost sucks his coffee back up his nose. he catches his breath and gives eddie a bewildered stare, but the other boy is focused on smacking the lid of the bottle against his palm.
"i'm sorry—the what?"
eddie finally looks up at him with round eyes, completely clear of any of the confusion that is definitely showing on steve's face currently.
"the ketchup pre-cum," he says, like steve should know what that is. "you know, the watery bits that squirt out if you don't shake the bottle good enough? kind of looks like pre-cu-"
"i know what pre-cum is," steve cuts him off with a sigh, casting glances around to the other tables to see if anyone else overheard him. "but do you have to call ketchup that?"
eddie only snickers at him. when he's satisfied that it's been shaken to his standards, he snaps open the cap and tries again–
–and lets out a high pitched moan when ketchup comes dribbling out of the bottle.
steve chokes on his spit. they're definitely getting stares from other tables now, and he hides his burning face in his hands while eddie just laughs harder, like the teasing little asshole he is.
"jesus christ," steve murmurs under his breath, dragging his fingers down his face. "can't fucking take you anywhere, i swear."
eddie just gives him a little hum and nudges his foot under the table, looking every bit pleased as goddamn punch.
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taglist (ask to be added!):
@yournowheregirl @steves-strapcollection @thefreakandthehair @stobinesque @vecnuthy
@tboygareth @flowercrowngods @starryeyedjanai @matchingbatbites @corrodedbisexual
@theheadlessphilosopher @patchworkgargoyle @sentient-trash @wormdebut @legitcookie
@corrodedcoughin @steddieas-shegoes @wynnyfryd @sidekick-hero @simplebtromance
@tangerinesteve @stevesjockstrap @steddie-island @spectrum-spectre @pearynice
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glitchfiles · 10 months
Text
heatstroke. [ljn]
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pairing. mechanic! jeno x (afab) reader
wc. 3.8k+
cw. SMUT MINORS DNI!!, hard dom! jeno, profanity/cursing, outdoor/car sex, oral (m receiving), throat fucking, boot grinding, rough sex, degradation, name-calling (’slut’, ‘fucktoy’), etc…
an. i had this idea in june, but haven't had much time to write until recently. i had to rush a bit because i wanted to get it out before august/summer ends, I just made it lol. if there’s typos… oops… hope you enjoy :3
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just before the muggy summer air lulls you to sleep, a series of sharp knocks at your windows jolts you fully conscious. as your eyes snap wide open, you turn to look to see a man standing outside of your car. he can tell by the bemused expression on your face you're struggling to figure out why he's here.
"roadside assistance, you called." realisation washes over your features, and the mystery man can't help but find it amusing how little control you have over your countenance.
you open the door slowly, allowing him time to move back, and groggily step out of the car. rays of sun prick your skin - the floral mini dress you had on left more of you exposed than covered.
"thanks for coming," you laugh nervously.
the sun is blinding, you can just make out the figure before you as you give your knight in shining armour a squinted once over.
his uniform consists of navy overalls and heavy boots; though he had taken the top half of his overalls off and tied the sleeves around his waist, you're sure he's sweltering. the white tank top he wore hugs his broad, muscular torso, which you can't help but ogle at.
"no problem. any idea what the issue is?" as he nears your car, you get a better look at his face. and just as you feared, he has a face to match the body.
his features are sharp, from his jaw to the upturned corners of his mouth to his nose. in contrast, the way his eyes soften up as he smiles at you fills your stomach with butterflies.
you catch yourself then clear your throat before responding. "no, it just broke down. i'm lucky i pulled over in time."
if you were trying to hide that you were checking him out, you were doing the worst job ever.
unabashed stares were far from foreign to him, he couldn’t say he minded them - especially when they were from someone cute.
he takes a quick walk around the vehicle, checking for any external damage. "tyres look fine," he mumbles to himself.
then he stops at the hood to pop it open. a frown settles upon his features as he begins to try to diagnose the issue at hand.
you don't even try to understand what he's doing, you're honestly far more concerned with analysing every square inch of the adonis before you.
"you okay standing out here? it's pretty hot," he turns to you. you had lost track of time, has it been a few minutes or a few hours? "you can sit in my truck, it has ac, or i can get you some water."
"just the water is fine!" you respond, even though cold air sounded like paradise right now actually, "i've always been somewhat interested in cars and stuff." you lied again.
"oh, really?" he raised an eyebrow, unconvinced.
"yeah, my dad used to fix old cars up - he'd make me hand him tools from time to time." you walked closer to him, leaving a few centimetres between your bodies.
"then, you wouldn't mind helping me out a bit? i think i know what the issue is here." you nodded vehemently, unable to stop yourself from forming an eager smile.
only when he walks away do you realise you have been holding your breath. you barely have time to catch it before he's back with two chilled water bottles in one hand and a hefty toolbox in the other. bulging muscles ripple across his arms, the sight puts a fluttery feeling in the pit of your stomach.
he sets the box down with a light grunt, then looks at you kindly and with an outstretched arm to hand you a cool bottle. the fact his hand, which you notice is comparatively larger and rougher, brushes against yours only exacerbates your condition.
you can barely look him in the eye as you take the bottle from him; you waste no time before cracking it open and gulping down a considerable amount. his eyes can’t help but follow the droplets of water that escape the corner of your mouth, trickling down your chin, your neck and then your chest before disappearing between your cleavage (which he had been trying to ignore from the moment you stepped out of your car).
“someone’s thirsty,” he mentally slaps himself and comments with a chuckle to ease the moment of tension.
he takes a swig of water before putting on gloves, picking a took out of the box and getting to work.
for a moment, only the sound of distant wildlife in the surrounding area can be heard. leaving you ample time to watch. the way his brows furrow as he concentrates on his job is more attractive than it should be.
“my name is jeno by the way,” he breaks the silence. you hadn’t even thought to ask, you quickly reply with your name. “where are you heading?”
“my friend’s place for a barbecue. this was supposed to be a shortcut, but it ended up leaving me stranded in the middle of nowhere.” he lets out a sympathetic hum before letting a comfortable silence fall between the two of you again.
he hands whatever tool he has in his hand to you and asks, “can you pass me the torque wrench?”
you stare at him blankly then you stare down at the array of tools laid out. the temperature of your body increases even further as he smiles at you knowingly.
“hard to think with the heat, huh?” he chuckles walking past you to pick up the tool you would have never guessed was what he was asking for. “don’t worry about it, you can just stand and watch,” he said as though that wasn’t what you had been doing up until now anyway.
he’s sure you’re not actually interested in cars in the slightest but rattles on about the topic. most of it all flies over your head but you nod and giggle as your gaze trails over the veins on his arms are he tightens bolts.
after a short while, he stands up straight. wiping his forearm over his sweaty forehead he declares he thinks he’s done.
“key?” he plucks off his gloves as you fish it out of your purse and hand it over to him. “glad you know that one.” he teases.
you watch with bated breath as he gets into your car to start it; sure enough, the engine purrs when he turns the key.
he jumps out of the car and flashes you a proud smile that makes you melt more than the heat.
"so...” he starts tucking his gloves into his pocket then he rubs his hands together before placing them on his hips. "how would you like to pay?"
"oh yeah, let me just get my purse. how much was it?." you open your bag to rummage around for your wallet as he tells you the price.
your phone…
sunglasses… 
a pack of gum…
lip gloss…
no wallet.
you smile up at him nervously, excusing yourself to go look in your glove compartment.
jeno follows you around to see you bent over and rummaging around. he loses track of time, too preoccupied with the way your dress rides up to barely cover your ass. he didn't notice how translucent the fabric was until now, he could just make out the outline of the thong you were wearing.
while he blissfully enjoys the show, dread fills you at the realisation you may not be able to pay. you desperately look for stray bits of cash, but you can’t seem to find even a penny in your car all of a sudden.
your frantic search yields absolutely nothing. you take a second to steel yourself before stepping back onto the ground and turning towards him with a doe-eyed guilty expression that makes something stir in his abdomen.
"i swear i had it but-" you mutter, finally moving to sit facing him in the passenger’s seat. he suddenly feels a lot bigger now you're staring up at him and he's looking down at you. "but it's not- i don't have any money so-"
"well, there are other ways to pay." only when the words leave his mouth does jeno realise there is room for misinterpretation but, for some reason, he doesn't feel like correcting himself.
maybe it was the warmth or the stress of your predicament, but your mind began to entertain itself with thoughts that had nothing to do with getting this man that you had only met today his money.
you blinked dumbly, absolutely none of the cogs turning in your brain as you started eyeing him again. starting at the neckline of his tank and then fixating on his deep collarbones momentarily before drifting down.
sweat had turned the white cotton covering his torso almost transparent. the material clung to the ridges of his toned chest and abs, leaving almost nothing to the imagination.
your mouth went dry; you were eyeing him like a dehydrated desert wanderer who had just spotted an oasis.
“like… how?” you blink up at him as though you don’t catch his drift. the innocence you feign starts to chip away at his self-control.
though he comes off as rather relaxed on the outside, jeno is rather rigid with himself. he had to be to run a business with any success. but at the end of the day, he was his own boss; no one had to know about this.
he glanced around. you were on a road in the middle of nowhere surrounded by woodland and he couldn't remember the last time he had seen another car drive past.
he could bend his rules this once for you.
“you’re not just a pretty face, you’re a smart girl, right?” finally, he gives into the desire that had been building inside of him since the moment he laid eyes on you. his charming eye-smile turns into a dark glare; his voice drops a couple octaves. “use your head.”
without another word, you stand up and sink down to squat, reluctant to get your knees dirty. you stare up awaiting further instruction.
“you know transfers are a thing, right?” he laughs sliding a hand over your cheek, feeling a switch inside of him flip. here you were debasing yourself for a man you had just met. “i think i like this much better though, clever girl.” 
he can’t believe you’re doing this.
he can’t believe he’s doing this.
you untie his overalls letting them drop down to his knees and tug down his boxers. internally you let out a sigh of relief at the sight of a well-groomed semi-hard cock. feeling it twitch up to attention as you wrap a hand around it. he groans out an obscenity as you begin to tentatively stoke him.
“you’re gonna need to do a lot more than that if you plan on giving me my money’s worth.” he tuts down at you, sliding his hand to rest on the back of your head. 
“whatever you want.” the seductive lilt of your voice makes him reel.
“whatever?” his chest rises as he takes a deep breath and forms a light grip on your locks. 
“anything.” you nod.
“then open your fucking mouth, slut.”  his voice suddenly becomes gravelly and commanding as he cranes your head back. you obediently open up for him, wrapping your lips around his tip to lap at the salty fluid that had started to spill out of it.
“hands behind your back,” the look in his eyes is wild as he watches you promptly obey him without reluctance. you want to please him, repay him for his kindness.  
you take the initiative to take him even deeper, creeping down inch by inch deeper with each bob; the more you take, the more drool escapes the corners of your mouth, dripping down in thick strings. you let out garbled moans, sending vibrations through him; his hand instinctively grips your locks, pushing his cock harshly into the back of your throat. you swallow a gag and tears prick your eyes but keep going.
“you’re so good,” he huffs, abdomen tightening, “you do this often? bet you’d let any man shove their cock down your throat, cheap fucking slut.”
you whine around him in protest, he lets you up to speak. you vehemently shake your head and choke out, “only you.“
“just for me.” his thumb softly endearingly caresses the back of your head. “god, what did i do to get this lucky.” he half mutters to himself before shoving himself back into your accepting mouth.
he continues to fuck into your face like you’re nothing but a hole and you take it. his head tips back as he lets out unbridled moans, comforted by the fact there was no one for miles to witness your debauchery, but infinitely turned on by the fact you were so out in the open.
jeno's breathing gets more ragged with each thrust, he hunches forward at the feeling of his orgasm hurtling towards him. if your mouth wasn't currently stuffed, you would smile as you brought a hand up to toy with his saliva-coated balls.
"oh my fucking- i'm cumming." it was the last push he needed before shooting his load down your throat. keeping you locked in place, nose smushed up against his pubic bone. all strength leaves your legs and you fall to your knees, the hard ground digs into your skin but the pain means nothing when he’s groaning about how well you’re taking his cum. you can barely breathe and your head is spinning but you wish you could make him cum again already. 
after a while, he settles down from his high and slowly removes himself. his hand grips firmly at your hair, keeping you in place. 
“what a fucking mess.” he sneers while admiring his work, how filthy you look kneeling before him. spit and cum cover your chin down to your chest; the low neckline of your dress is soaked. not to mention your makeup, black inky streaks ran down your cheeks. “liked taking my cock so much you forgot you had something to look pretty for.”
the look in your eyes was close to piety, unfazed that there was no way you could go to your friend’s house in this state. maybe he’d fucked your face a little too hard and knocked some sense out of you. it was the only explanation for you so gleefully offering yourself to every whim of a stranger; jeno was not a good enough man to refuse such an offer. 
“want more? you know, most of my customers tip.” he says in an expectant tone. “no pressure though.”
“wanna fuck me?” you run a finger up his thigh, skipping being coy - you needed him.
“i don’t know, can i?” he wants to toy with you, however.
“i said you can do anything, didn’t i?” you shuffle closer to him on your knees, batting your eyelashes up at him. 
“anything…” he repeats, dark thoughts run through his mind. a deep, shaky breath leaves jeno’s nostrils as he tries to contain the arousal stirring back up inside of him. he moves his leg forward, situating one of his heavy work boots between your legs; with the grasp he still has on you, he forces your core to come down against it. 
he doesn’t have to utter another word before your hips start moving. you bite your lip to contain the sounds threatening to escape you, shame finally kicking in somewhat. but he was having none of that; a sharp tug at your hair was all it took, he tipped your head back, and all the moans came spilling out. 
“good.” his praise encourages you to circle your hips faster. the panties you have on do nothing to hide how slick you are. 
you angle your hips for more stimulation, your swollen clit growing more sensitive by the second. you haven’t been at this for that long, but he can tell by the way your moans pick in pitch you’re nearly there. 
“close already?” he lifts the toe of his boot, pressing into you harder. “go ahead, cum on my boot. dirty, pathetic slut.” you whimper out pitifully as your orgasm finally wreaks you. 
he leaves you no time to recuperate before tugging your locks to make you stand and smashing his lips against yours. only now does it hit you that you’ve skipped quite a few bases, it’s the first time you’ve felt his lips against your own. 
you melt into his domineering kiss, trying your best to keep up with his lascivious pace. hands grope at your body, smoothing up your thighs and under your dress. 
a whine leaves your lips when his hands roughly squeeze your ass. he wastes no time attaching his lips to your neck, nipping at the skin as he moves to start pulling your panties off, you help him get them off the rest of the way and throw them somewhere into your car. 
deft fingers wander between your folds, collecting your wetness on his fingertips. the slightest brush against your raw clit makes you shudder in his grasp.
“gonna use this wet little pussy, just like i did your throat.” he whispered hotly against the skin of your neck, teasing your miserably sopping slit. “and you’re gonna take it like the good fucktoy you are.” 
now’s the point he’d finger a girl open a bit, maybe make her cum again. he’s usually kinder, more careful, less selfish; all that runs through his mind are animalistic thoughts of ruining you. 
you see the moment his resolve snaps completely, pupils dilating as a vein pops up on his temple. with no finesse at all, you’re turned around; a hand plants itself on your back, firmly pushing your torso down, you barely cushion your fall onto the car seat. 
he almost goes right in before the last fragment of sense left inside of him reminds him he’s forgotten something crucial. 
“shit, i don’t have a condom.” he slaps a hand over his face, vexed over the possibility of things ending here.
“i think i might,” you hurriedly reach into the glove compartment. not taking long to produce a foil packet and hand it to him; you turn to see he has an amused expression on his face.
“you remembered condoms but not money?” he snickers. “priorities.” 
you lower your head in embarrassment, begging him to get on with it. he obliges, quickly ripping open the packet and wrapping his cock up. with a deep hum, he slides his cock up between your ass cheeks. your back arches to push your backside further against him temptingly.
your mouths hang open in unison as he slides into you. he releases a long groan as he bottoms out, your tight unprepared hole swallowing him up deliciously. jeno’s body moves on its own, allowing neither of you time to adjust before reeling his hips back and slamming back in. his hands find purchase on your hips as he begins to pound you, digging into your curves for leverage; each thrust punching a choked moan out of you. 
“taking me so well,” he eyes the shameless mess beneath him, skin glistening with perspiration. he’s sure he’s equally as sweaty with the heat, probably more so with how much he is exerting himself; sweaty bangs stuck to his forehead, he can feel droplets racing down the sharp contours of his face to drip off his chin. yet he feels no fatigue, adrenaline keeps him going - keeps him fucking into you at a bestial pace. something about being surrounded by wilderness draws out a side of him so despicably feral, a side of him he had never been able to admit to having. 
when he said he would use you, he meant it well and truly. his cock bullied its way deeper into you.
“god! so fucking deep.” you manage to stutter out as he mercilessly crams every last inch of his cock inside. you’re sure he doesn’t mean or care to, but he hits all the spots that make your walls clench around him tighter, sucking him in deeper. 
“i can feel how close you are,” your legs shake, everything becoming more and more overwhelming by the second. his fingers dig into your flesh, holding your squirming body, “like being my fucktoy, yeah? gonna cream all over my cock?”
your legs shake and your nails scrape at the hard cushion beneath you as you bawl out incoherent words about how you’re cumming. your eyes roll into the back of you as the feeling seizes your body wholly. leaving your ears ringing and broken moans tumbling out of you as he drills you through your high.
once you fall, your legs give out and you fall limp on the seat. jeno doesn’t let up at all though. strong hands lay into your shoulders, your body is pressed further into the chair with his body weight. you barely have the space to breathe but he couldn’t care less, not when he was so close to the peak. 
he plants a foot on the car’s sill to anchor himself through a barrage of unrestrained, choppy thrusts. your poor car jolts and whines under their power.
between getting your throat fucked raw and brain-melting overstimulation, you could not form words; nothing that came out of jeno was coherent either, guttural noises of pleasure erupted from him. 
you only find out he’s cumming when you feel his cock twitch inside your sensitive walls. the fact he’s moaning your name between grunts is something you barely pick up; your body and mind have gone numb. motor function is off the table now, the only movement you can manage are involuntary muscle twitches.
jeno stills, basking in the fading pleasure, catching his breath. you’re too out of it to let out a small whine as he pulls out of you, leaving you devastatingly empty. 
“you good?” he pipes up, as you sluggishly pick yourself up. 
“fine, i think.” the heat and exhaustion have evidently defeated you; the look in your eyes is vacant as you wipe the sweat off of your forehead. you fix the straps of your soiled dress and plant your feet on the ground, your legs give out momentarily, but you catch yourself before you fall to the ground. he can't help but burst out laughing.
“look at you,” he takes your hand to steady you. the smirk on his face tells you he’s thoroughly enjoying the fact he’s fucked you to the point you can’t walk straight. “let’s get you cleaned up and home.” 
“thanks,” your cheeks grow hot as you limp toward his truck.
 “next time, bring money. not everyone’s as nice as me.” 
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dilemmaontwolegs · 11 months
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Not A Verstappen: Gridlocked {1}
Pairing: Charles Leclerc x fem!driver!reader x Lando Norris Summary: Charles and Lando come to your apartment for the thank you dinner as promised. Warnings: 18+ only, sexual tension, alcohol, touching? WC: 2.4k F1 Masterlist NAV: Sibling Rivalry One || Two || Three NAV: Gridlocked One || Two || Three || Four
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Black smoke billowed out of the pan you thought you had turned off and you rushed to toss it in the sink before opening a window. The breeze was a moment too late to clear the air of the dark tendrils snaking higher and they soon reached the smoke detector, the piercing sound of its alarm filling your kitchen. 
“Shit,” you cursed as you tried to jump and hit the detector to shut it off but you were just too short. “Double shit.”
A knock sounded at your door and you threw it open, grabbing whoevers hand it was and dragging them inside. “Thank god, hit that fucking thing for me will you?” you asked, realising it was Charles who had arrived on time, unsurprisingly.
His nose wrinkled at the heavy stench of smoke and he rose onto his toes to reach up and turn off the alarm. “You look like you have been, um…creative.”
You smiled at the attempt of a compliment before laughing at the situation. In the cold pan on the stove were the chicken breasts that were meant to be frying and you slapped your forehead as you realised you had turned the wrong element on. “Looks like we are going out to dinner, which is probably safer. I don’t think I could have kept my promise not to give you food poisoning by the looks of it.”
“I’m not dressed to go out,” he said as he looked down at his polo and chinos.
“Are you kidding me? You look like a damn model.”
“Thanks. It’s not easy being this handsome,” Lando said as he walked in the front door that was still open, a bottle of wine in his hands. “I see your cooking skills are as good as mine.”
“Har-har,” you drawled as you reached into the cupboards and got three wine stems out. “Liquid dinner it is.”
“Haven’t you sworn off drinking?” Charles asked as he rummaged around your cutlery drawers, finding the corkscrew for Lando.
“Pfft, that was just for summer break to stop the PR team from riding my ass,” you said with a grin. “Plus, you two won’t let me get into trouble. At least not too much.”
The cork popped open and Charles took the bottle from Lando to read the label. “I don’t think we have anything to worry about,” he laughed as he handed the Prosecco back. 
“What?” Lando asked with a frown as he turned it around to see the label. “The lady at the shop said this was good.”
“Sure, for an afternoon at the beach, but it won’t get you drunk.”
You took the bottle from his hands and kissed his cheek to erase the pout on his face. “It is the perfect starter course, and my bar is fully stocked with the hard stuff.”
“No,” Charles sighed as he took the bottle and poured three drinks. “I’m sure there is something salvageable to eat. No drinking on an empty stomach.”
You raised your glass to him. “I wish you luck, my kitchen is cursed.”
He tapped his glass with yours and winked. “I’m a miracle worker, watch me.”
You sat with Lando at the kitchen table as he showed you some photos he had taken throughout the year that hadn’t been posted online, keeping you entertained with stories that would get him in trouble if they ever got out. Every now and then you would check on Charles who familiarised himself with your kitchen, opening and closing all the cupboards and drawers before sighing.
“Admit defeat yet?”
His green eyes narrowed at you from across the room. “Never. I just can’t find any- of nevermind. What is this monstrosity?” He pulled a large jar out of the fridge and grimaced at the sight. 
“Crushed garlic,” you said obviously but he grew even more offended by the jar as he held it at arms length away.
“Unbelievable,” he muttered as he opened the lid and sniffed it. “It will do, I suppose.”
“What are you cooking?” Lando asked as he saw the ingredients lined up on the bench.
“Chicken pesto pasta.” He didn’t even look up as he sliced some limes up, muttering that lemons would have been better. 
“See, this is what I was looking for,” you said to Lando as you rested your chin on your hand watching Charles navigate the kitchen comfortably. “He cooks for me, you did my laundry, you’re both good looking and funny. That’s what I need from a man, I need the love child of Charlando. I give up. It’s impossible. I’m never going to find that.”
“Okay, this definitely isn’t going to be enough,” Lando said as he took the almost empty glass from your hand and rose from the chair. You and Charles both watched him cross over to the wet bar and tap his fingers along his lips as he debated what spirits to choose. “We need to cheer you up, I’m thinking tequila sunrise or strawberry daiquiri?”
“And music,” Charles added as he diced an onion that had been hiding at the back of your refrigerator for who knows how long. “Not mine, because it’s all depressing.”
“So music and drinks…why don’t we just go out?”
Neither looked happy at your suggestion and they both shook their heads. “I’m not in the mood for a lecture from your brother,” Lando admitted.
Lando plugged his phone into your stereo and some soft pop song started to play in the background as Charles said, “And it's too loud to talk in a club. This is nice, no?”
“I guess the company is half decent,” you teased.
Charles chuckled and beckoned you over with a curl of his finger that had a dollop of creamy pesto sauce on the end. “Taste test.”
Your stomach clenched as you parted your lips for him and his eyes held yours, the moment too intimate to dare break. His lips parted with a silent sigh when your tongue rolled over the pad of his finger, and he took a harsh breath as your lips sealed around it and sucked it clean. 
“Hmmm,” you moaned as the flavours coated your tongue and you pulled back, licking your lips as you did. “Oh my god, Charles, that is delicious.”
You couldn’t help noticing how the green of his eyes had been swallowed by his blown pupils or the way his throat bobbed as he swallowed twice before he could muster a response. “Now that I’ve seen your cooking, I’m sure everything else tastes delicious.”
“It’s not that bad,” you said with a laugh as your attention was pulled away and a shot glass was placed into your hand. “I thought we were having cocktails?”
“We will, but,” Lando said as he reached past Charles to grab the salt before he sprinkled a line across his hand. “Tequila first, sunrise later.” He grabbed a wedge of lime next and pinched it between his teeth with a daring curl of his eyebrow. 
The food was forgotten as Charles watched you wrapped your fingers around Lando’s wrist before running your tongue across his skin. The grains of salt coated your tongue as you raised the glass to your lips and tipped the liquor back under their heated stares. You swallowed the liquor and inhaled the fiery burn that followed as you eyed up lime waiting between Lando’s lips. 
This moment balanced on a knife's edge and you could feel how influential it could be on making or breaking the friendship you had with both Lando and Charles. This was the line in the sand that once you crossed there could be no return.
No one dared to breathe. No one dared to move. 
They were waiting for you. 
You licked your lips of the salty spirit residue and stepped closer to him. Your fingers trailed up his neck to tease the short hairs on his nape as you pulled his head down to meet yours and you bit the lime, tearing it from his lips as the sour juice ran down your chin.
“You’re a bad influence,” you teased as you wiped away the excess and stepped back. 
The tension in the air evaporated with his proud grin and Charles chuckled as he turned back to the pan before it burned for a second time.
“I’m just trying to cheer you up,” he replied innocently.
He made his way back to the wet bar with a little dance that had you laughing again. “It’s working.”
The sunset made the perfect backdrop over Monte-Carlo as you stepped out onto the balcony with a plate in each hand and placed them on the small square table. The music drifted out from the french doors after Lando queued enough songs to last the night and joined you and Charles with the extra strong drinks he had made.
“We should do this more often,” you said as a calm settled within you and you watched the yachts dotting the sea beyond the marina.
“What should we toast to?” Lando asked as he placed your glass in front of you, the cocktail matching the orange skyline.
“Single life?” you offered, earning a snort from him as he dropped into the seat beside you, mirroring Charles on the other side.
“How about the hunt?” Charles joked and you groaned at the reminder. “Since we are all looking for love now.”
“Not me,” you surprised them. “I’ve deleted every dating app from my phone and given up. I might even get a cat to keep me company.”
“I thought ‘a girl had needs’?” Lando teased with a suggestive wiggle of his eyebrows.
“Nothing a little self love can’t take care of,” you muttered to your drink as you took a sip, making Charles choke on his. “What? It’s true. You can’t tell me that you don't use your hand out when you need it.”
“We definitely need to do this more often,” Lando chuckled as he spared a fork full of extremely overcooked pasta. 
Charles sent a grin across the table to Lando before their eyes turned to you, a mischievous glint reflecting in both pairs as Charles agreed with a nod. 
“Then let’s cheers to that,” you said as you raised your glass. 
“To the three of us,” Charles winked, clinking your glasses.
“The three of us.”
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The empty plates were neatly stacked and the last rays of light had long disappeared, but you weren’t ready for the night to be over. The air was growing cold and the fading solar lights dotted around the deck were starting to attract bugs, interrupting the peaceful lull in conversation. 
“Do you want to stay and watch a movie? You probably shouldn’t drive anyway.” You hoped your question didn’t sound too eager and tried to cover it up with the logical statement. It was needless though as they both perked up at the offer and started to clear the table.
“I’m up for a movie night,” Lando agreed as he took the glasses, leaving Charles to take the plates. “Another round?”
 “Yes, please. I’ll meet you on the couch.” 
You went to your room and changed out of the jeans and top you were wearing, opting for an oversized white AlphaTauri shirt you often slept in instead, before dragging the quilt off your bed. You switched the lights off around the apartment as you passed them and flopped down onto the couch between the two men who had been quietly chatting. Lando reached for the refilled glasses on the coffee table and handed you yours as you asked, “What are we watching?”
“Nothing sad or Charles will cry,” he said with a little laugh as he helped spread the blanket over everyone.
“And nothing with shooting or Lando will cry,” Charles shot back with his own teasing smirk.
“And nothing with romance or I will cry,” you added as you swiped up the remote and scrolled through the options on Netflix. “Guess that leaves horror. Paranormal Activity?”
You wanted to look away but you couldn’t as the crackling image on the screen only grew darker. You knew what was coming but it still didn’t stop the squeak that escaped your lips or the way your tense body startled at the jump scare.
The guys chuckled as if you hadn’t felt their legs knock yours at the sudden slam of a door and the blanket shifted until you felt a comforting hand on each thigh, resting just below the hem of the shirt. It took everything in you to keep still as their palms warmed your skin and the heat spread to your core and you felt Charles’ thumb start to draw soothing circles.
Under the guise of settling back into your skin after the fright, you laid back into the cushions and stretched your legs out. From the corner of your eye you could see Lando bite his lip as the shift left their hands even higher up your thighs, almost brushing the lace edge of your panties.
“Scared, chérie?” Charles asked, his voice a little deeper than usual.
It wasn’t the horror movie that was causing a fine tremor to work its way over your body, setting every nerve ending alight. And it certainly wasn’t the horror movie that was causing the goosebumps to tingle across your skin. 
It had been a long time since a man came so close to you that your core was turning to molten lava without even being touched and you lost the battle to remain still, your thighs clenching together in search of friction. You could feel a second heartbeat throbbing between the juncture and as the blanket slipped down your body your peaked nipples were easy to spot through the thin material. 
“Not exactly,” you uttered as Lando’s fingers squeezed your thigh, almost as if he were silently begging you to part them for him. 
“You’re shaking,” Lando murmured close to your ear. 
“I know,” you whispered as your throat clogged with the pleas for them to touch you, to slide their hands just another inch higher and sate the need your body craved. 
You felt the touch of Charles’ shaped beard along your jaw before his lips brushed your ear. “Breathe, chérie. We’ll take care of you.”
His thumb drew another circle and your chest expanded with the softest gasp as you felt the pad of his digit run along the seam of your underwear. 
Lando mirrored his friend, his breath hot on your neck where his lips set a trail of scorching fire to your ear. “Will you let us take care of you?”
Click here for part two.
Tagging: @destourtereaux @severerebelearthquake @sunf1ower16 @octaviareina @omgsuperstarg @mvclff1 @alwaysclassyeagle @icantcomeupwithamusicalname-blog @laneyspaulding19 @booknerd2004-blog @mimimarvelingmarvel @chonkybonky @jpg3 @bangtanxberm @secretlyangrymagazine
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norrisleclercf1 · 10 months
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hi, are you taking requests for smut too? i'd love one for charles, where usually he's not really into rough sex but one day he just goes for it and surprises y/n
A/N: Charles doesn't seem like one to have rough sex, but this was fun to write
Warnings: Rough sex, public sex, not really you're on his yacht, whatever just enjoy, p in v, wrap before you tap, slight bondage, dirty talk, spanking, slight ass play, daddy kink, sue me okay I popped off with this one
You hated tan lines, which is funny considering your boyfriend posted the ultimate tan line picture a year ago around this time. Charles was careful in picking a place that would allow you privacy.
He didn't want cameras capturing you naked on his yacht. Besides, you're his fiancée you should be allowed to tan nude on his boat if you want too. Smiling at the seclusion, you take off your top and soon your bottoms enjoying the way the sun warmed your skin.
"Sunshine, you need sunscreen." You laugh at his comment as his summer break photos are infamous for him always having the worse sunburns ever. "Maybe you should wear the sunscreen." Taking the bottle for him.
"I don't care if I burn, just don't want you too. Now give it." Reaching for it, you pull back. He shakes his head and goes to grab it again, only for you to do the same. "Give it here." You squeal as you and Charles wrestle for the bottle, everything ending when Charles's hand wraps around your throat and pins you down.
"When I say give it, you give it." His voice stern, the look in his eyes and hand on your throat as your squirming. You can see the lightbulb go off, throwing the sunscreen away he smirk. "Awww, did my little sunshine get excited by this? That's cute." Hand careful to not hurt you or cut off your oxygen.
"Charl." You buck your hips, but his hand pushes it down. "Nahuh, stay here. Don't touch yourself." He whispers removing his hand and dipping into the back of the yacht.
Holy fuck. Charles as never once acted this way towards you. He never had rough sex with you, you didn't mind it. But, shit....were you turned on like crazy. Unable to help yourself you dip your fingers in, whimpering when you feel a pool of wetness. "Mmmm." You screw your eyes shut, rubbing your clit gently.
"Are you really that much of a slut, you can't wait?" Eyes flying open, your fiancé stands there holding a piece of rope. "I'm so wet, Charles. Look." Smirking you spread your legs wide, showing off your pussy. His nose flares, trying to stay in control.
If this was a normal sex night, he'd drop to his knees and eat his fill drawing out gorgeous moans. But, this wasn't a normal sex night, and he was going to show you that. "Tsk, can't even listen to simple instructions can you?" Stepping forward his hand in on your neck.
Gasping he shoves you back on the plush deck. The front of the deck was for people just lay, it was simple and your favorite spot on the yacht. "Charl, please it aches. Help me." You beg trying to get some type of friction. "Stop." You freeze, the command settling deep in your bones.
He let's go of your neck, flipping you onto your stomach you yelp. "This is what happens when you don't behave." He bites your ear, letting go as he sets your hands on the railing. "Gorgeous ring, who gave it to you?" You giggle at the question, but moan when a stern slap to your ass is given.
The rope in his hand was being tied around your wrists and railing, not to tight, but enough you couldn't break free. "My fiancé." You moan, trying to lean back to rub into him. His body over yours. "Hmmm, very lucky guy." Humor in the words, you smile glad to know he was still his soft self. "Very, very lucky indeed. But, let's not talk about him." Charles smiles, seeing the smile in your eyes.
"You're right. I'd rather make you scream." You try to hit back with a quip, but you gasp out a moan feeling another slap to your ass. Spreading your legs, Charles hums rubbing the soft flesh before trailing his hand to your pussy. "How gorgeous you look, Sunshine. Fuck, that fiancé of yours better never fuck up." You nod, trying to form the words.
You couldn't as Charles was always good with his fingers, the way he'd move them should be illegal. "Do I need to finger you or eat you out, Sunshine? I want to make sure you're ready." The soft words, has you blushing. How in the world could Charles be so sweet and then so nasty at the same time.
"No, I got a little needy earlier when you were napping." His jaw twitches but says nothing as he nods. Standing up over you he pulls off his swim trunks. You hate that you couldn't turn around and see him. Charles naked it stunning, he was just perfect. "Condom, or no?" Charles was making sure he didn't overstep.
He's never been rough with you before and he refuses to go too far that it's too much. "No condom, fuck Charl hurry. I'm so wet and needy. God I want to feel you fill me up, please." You beg pulling your knees up and arching your ass up. "Fuck." He curses wrapping a hand around his cock, pumping himself a couple of times.
Getting back on his knees, he pulls you down. He thrusts up watching the way his cock moves between your ass cheeks. "Charles, next time. Just fuck my pussy Daddy!" You moan, unable to help the words fall from your lips. "Sweet jesus, Sunshine." Charles slides into you, his cock even harder from hearing you call him that.
You let out a loud moan, Charles holding your hips as he takes deep breaths trying to calm down. He doesn't wait, moving back and forth fast. "Yes, yes, uhhh." You gasp, shaking your head as Charles fucks into you fast. The sound of skin slapping, and your moans drive him crazy.
"Such a dirty slut got needy and used your own fingers to get off. Then you don't even wait a minute before you're touching yourself again. Were you that hungry for Daddy's cock you needed to misbehave huh?" You yelp Charles's fingers digging into your hair as he arches you up.
"Speak." He changes his pace but keeps the same deep thrusts as he circles his hips and goes forward sending your eyes to roll into the back of your head. "Yes, I'm a dirty slut." You gasp, Charles releasing you, falling forward you moan.
"That's right, you are a dirty slut. But, my dirty slut." He whispers reaching down as he rubs your clit sending you over the edge. "Oh, GOD CHARLES!" As he fucks hard into you, but the movement of his fingers on your clit slow driving you crazy. Moving fast he tugs on the rope watching fall.
Pulling out of you, you whine hating when he leaves you empty. Moving he towers over you, as he pumps is cock you sit up sucking him down. The feeling of your mouth on him sends him off the edge as he comes deep in your throat.
Pulling off of him, careful to not overstimulate him. The two of you gasp for air, before falling into a fit of giggles. "Are you okay?" He asks, pulling you into him. "Yes, you?" Placing soft kisses on his chest. "I'm perfect. By the way, maybe we should do that again." You smile loving the idea.
"Definitely."
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hoesformatt · 5 months
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PASS THE BLUNT
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Chris smut, ykwtfgo, the freaks know
dom!chris (all my writing is all inclusive unlike some of y’all hoes and is poc friendly)
contains: smoking weed (I’M ON THAT GOOD KUSH AND ALCOHOL), pet names (use of mama, baby), hand-jobs, blow-jobs, heavy petting, no use of y/n
word count: 1.1k
not-proofread
Contemplating on the bean bag in room, my eyes wandering around my room, the tin of kush on my bedside table glaring at me. I gave in grabbing it marching down the stairs.
“What’s good” Chris sat on the kitchen stool glancing up at me then looking back at his phone which was propped up on a water bottle.
“Hey” He said dryly
“Hello, what are doing” I waved my hands around seeking for his attention. “I’m on live” He looked straight at me smiling with a ‘Don’t say anything smart’ face.
I nodded then opening the fridge and searching for water as I took one popping the cap off the bottle.
Taking out the tin and my phone out my pants turning it off. “What are you turning your phone off for?” He asked
I hand signalled paper putting it on the table, crushing up weed, placing it on the ‘air’ paper, rolling it up, licking it and smoking it. He got the idea pretty quickly gazing towards his phone contemplating if he was going to come out and smoke with me or keep being on live.
I stood there and waited but I just rolled my eyes took my shit and walked to backyard. I slid open the back door to sit on the patio furniture.
Opening my tin, it already had my blunt I rolled up earlier and I grasped on the lighter igniting it and placing the fire on the end of my blunt.
Setting in it my mouth breathing in taking a puff, releasing the smoke almost instantly calming me down. “Pass the blunt”
Chris pulled out one of the chairs next to me sitting down manspreading before stealing the joint from my hand. He was making me so fucking horny and I wasn’t even that high yet, I just want to kneel in-between his thighs and suck him off.
I watched him drag the blunt and hold the smoke in his chest then throwing his head back then exhaling slowly.
Chris’ adams apple bobbed out as he opened his eye to look up at the night sky the stars within his gaze. The starry night gave us a chance to adore the world around, At this point we don’t even know how many hits we’ve taken, half of the joint is blown but I’m just happy and high. And horny.
Almost the whole thing was down and I placed the weed back in my tin before I closed it and glanced over at Chris who was already creating a hole through my head.
“Are you thinking, what i’m thinking?” His speech was almost perfect it was just the redness of his eyes that threw me off. “No what are you thinking” I giggled.
“I think we need to fuck” I stopped giggling when I saw his face which was dead serious. And dead hot, like what the fuck.
I got nothing let to lose and this high is about to make this spicer than it can already get. Just him saying that made me notice the way brown hair fell on his face, his pink lips that could match the color of his tip, perfect straight nose, very rideable.
I walked around to sit on his lap, eyes locking in with each other. “Grind.”
I did what he asked grinding on his clothed dick with my wet cunt. Chris groaned loudly holding his hands on my waist guiding me to press down harder on his bulge.
Moving my hips up and down Chris would buck up his hips once and a while for extra stimulation and his moans got louder. “Get on your knees” I followed his lead pulling down his sweatpants along with his boxers revealing his length making me gasp at his size.
I began on the end of his length, slowly kitty-licking Chris’ pre-cum leaking out his slit which I rubbed all around his shaft for lubricant. I kissed his pulsing tip as he became impatient with me.
I fully put his cock in my mouth bobbing my head at a fast pace, gaping up at his face his lips parted, moans and whimpers stemming from his mouth. “Oh fuck mama”.
Chris pushed my head farther down fronting his balls, his tip hitting the back of my throat and my moans sending vibrations through his dick. He twisted the blunt in-between his long fingers before I heard the joint burn and crackle before he placed it back on the ashtray. Chris was still gripping my dark curls as I fought the urge to gag as I was being distracted by how heavenly he looked, my panties were soaking with wetness.
The squirming and his cries told me that was ready to cum, I felt his legs shaking around my head until Chris pushed my head down completely his length choking me out till thick liquids streamed into my mouth.
Chris lifted me up, gripping my neck then my waist to place me on his lap, sitting on his hard raw dick under my clothed cunt. I turned for my back to face him and his hands snaked up, unclipping my bra and throwing it onto the chair I was on.
I held his cock in my hand positioning it to my warm and wet pussy slowly lowering myself onto him, my mouth refused to stay closed as I huffed. “Chris y-you’re so f-f-fucking b-big”
He smirked at me before I completely nuzzled around his cock and Chris wrapped his arms waist helping me shift up and down. “Fuck mama you’re so fucking w-warm and tight”.
Bouncing on his dick I was reckless, I’ve never experienced so much pleasure in my life, feeling his length abuse my cunt as he thrusted his hips going deeper into me. “S-Shit, Chris!” He quickened his pace surprising me, as a high flushed through my body.
Moving on my own Chris laid back on the chair just staring at me bouncing on his cock, mostly watching my ass recoil with every motion I did. He snook his hands into my shirt holding my tits, “Come on mama, work that shit” He placed the blunt to my lips as I dragged it and slowed my movement until Chris yanked on my curls, my head pulling back.
My stomach tied up as I reached my orgasm and my breaths got heavier “You’re gonna cum baby?” I nodded profusely “Cum all over my cock baby, cum for me.” With his go I came with ease making a mess all over him. Letting go, I let my body fall back as he pulled through his last thrusts into me and before pulling out and cumming all over my back and his stomach.
“Shit, you gonna clean me up?”
this took longer to write than I thought…
tags:@chrisenthusiast @miguelsangel @lunariaxzz @angelic-sturniolos111 @littlebookworm803 @79sturniolo @alinaa131 @luv4kozume
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luveline · 2 years
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I’m begging for more Golden Retriever Girlfriend with either Steve or Eddie- scraped knees? Doesn’t even notice, just too excited to tell their boyfriend about the butterfly they saw on their way over to see them…
I chose Eddie again cos I like him ♡ gn!reader | 1k words
The walk to Eddie's house is long but not boring. The trailer homes are dispersed over long stretches of green grass, so sometimes you see bugs. Mostly caterpillars, sometimes spiders, snails and slugs, ants, crickets if you're quiet enough. 
Today, two butterflies. They swing through the air beautifully as if orbiting the other, pure white with wings as unremarkable and delicate as tulip petals. 
They're distracting. You follow them for a short while until they fly too far to see and hurry the rest of the way to Eddie's home, rushing on toes up the steps into his trailer. 
"Eddie?" you ask into the empty living room. 
The bathroom door opens but he doesn't emerge. "In here." 
You stride over and peer inside. He's spitting toothpaste foam down the sink, his hair in a tie, his eyes still droopy with fatigue. 
"You get up way too early, you know that? I don't know how you can already have walked here when I got up five minutes ago."
"The weather's great," you say easily, pushing into the small bathroom though you shouldn't to wipe sleep from the corners of his eyes. 
He bats your hand away. "Stop." 
You stop and frown for the five seconds that you feel scolded until he grabs your fingers to give you a quick reassuring squeeze.
He drops your hand in favour of washing his face, cupping hot water in his hands to scrub at his nose roughly. You ramble mildly about the journey here.
"They were dancing, Eddie. I've never seen anything like it. They were really pretty..." you detail, distracted by his face, his lashes heavy with wetness.
He dries off with a towel. You reach around to the back of his head to pull his hair tie free and he sets his hands over your waist, a casual proximity as you run your hands through his curls. You're careful. You know how prone to tangles he is. 
"I can feel you looking at my face," you say, trying not to breathe too heavily. 
"Sure am, sweetheart." 
You feel as radiant as a marigold under his appreciative gaze. "There. Perfect again," you mumble.
"Thanks."
You nod and move out of his reach, back into the cooler space of his living room. You do a little spin as you go, an unbearable amount of happiness in your chest as you pose in front of the couch, one hand at your hip and the other pointing at your still-tired boyfriend where he follows you. 
"We have the whole day! What are we gonna do first?" you ask. 
"Baby, what the fuck have you done?" 
The smile slips off your face. He sounds mad enough to startle you and you drop your hands. "What?" you ask weakly. 
His eyes flit from your face to your knees and he gestures to them. He looks wide awake. "You're bleeding. Sit down." When you don't move he takes your shoulders into stern hands and guides you backward. "Sit down! Jesus, sit." 
You drop onto the couch and look down at your knees, surprised to see them all bloody and scratched. When you'd slipped on leaf litter walking down the main road into the park you'd assumed everything was fine despite the stinging pain, and by the time you'd seen the butterflies you'd forgotten altogether. 
"When did you do that?" he asks. "Why didn't you tell me?" 
"I forgot," you say, eyes blinking owlishly at his fierce expression. 
Eddie spins on his heel to dig through a kitchen cabinet for his first aid kit, popping it open by the sink. "Piece of shit kit," he mutters, piling foil wrapped bandages into his hand. 
He looks less formidable as he kneels on the floor between your knees, thumb probing the edge of your grazes one then the other, very gentle.
"You didn't tell me what happened," he says quietly, eyes on your knees as he sprays a small bottle of disinfectant over your knees with no warning and you flinch. 
"Shit, I'm sorry," he says. 
You blink back tears. "Stings," you say, giggling wetly.
He wipes your grazes with precise, almost calculated movements. One hurts worse than the other. "Sorry," he says again as he drops the bloodied wipes to the floor and rips a sterile packing open with his teeth – which is all types of wrong – and unrolls a length of white bandages. 
"Hold the gauze, honey," he says. 
You move your hands as he instructs, wondering if he's ever called you honey before. You're still deciding by the time he finishes, his hands in twin position just below your knees. 
You brush your bandages together and smile. "They're white. Like the butterflies." 
"Is that why you fell? Watching the butterflies?" he asks, sounding curious. 
You laugh and weave your fingers into the soft hair at the back of his neck, dropping your face down. "I'm not that stupid. It was all the fallen leaves by the turning." 
He smiles and clasps your wrists. "You're not stupid at all."
He doesn't give you time to argue as he stands and cleans the small mess he'd made fixing your bloody knees. You stand too, always trying to follow him despite limited places to go. Eddie's more than used to it by now. 
"For future reference," he says, a certain roughness to his tone. "Don't wait ten minutes to tell me the next time you split your knees." 
"Sorry." 
He throws an arm over your shoulder and tugs you into his side, giving you a good shake. "Stop. I'm serious, stop. Be sorry about how you've been here twenty minutes and haven't asked for a kiss yet." 
"I wanted to, but you got all scary about my legs!" 
"I can be scarier." 
"No you can't."
"No, I can't." 
You share what feels like an especially private smile despite being on your own and drop your head into his shoulder. He rests his cheek atop your crown.  
"You had blood down to your ankle," he murmurs. "You scared me." 
"Can I have a kiss now?" you ask. 
"You'll have to let me think about it," he bluffs, already leaning in. 
7K notes · View notes
chenfleur · 1 year
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open the gates, let me in
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summary. jeno always seems willing to do anything for you, and it takes a lot of inner nagging for him to finally realize why.
pairing. jeno x y/n ft donghyuck, jaemin
genre. fluff, college au, best friends to lovers
disclaimers. swearing, denial resonates so deeply with me its humiliating
word count. 4.0k
released. 02.05.23
author's note. feedback is appreciated! BAEKHYUN IS BACK FROM WAR 🙏🏻 WE CHEERED
masterlist
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For what feels like the nth time this hour, a certain honey-skinned boy shamelessly rolls his eyes at one of his best friends. That title, however, is in serious danger of being revoked if he has to spend one more agonizing second in this store.
"Give me one good reason I shouldn't ditch your ass right now," Donghyuck jeers. His habit of poking his cheek with his tongue shines through as impatience radiates off of his body.
Jeno ignores his complaining, eyes diligently scanning the rows of colourful fragrance bottles.
He's quite overwhelmed. The labels, brands, scents, and undertones—they all mean nothing to him. The only thing he's somewhat familiar with is the brand of the cologne he takes a liking to, but the strong woods and smokes of the men's cologne selection is a distinct opposite of what he’s looking for.
It leaves him to stand cluelessly among the shelves of white flowers and citruses and berries, trying to pick out the combination he thinks you'd like the most.
"Where would you even go? I drove," Jeno deadpans. 
He gently picks up a translucent, pale red bottle. Blood orange and peony.
Popping off the cap, he spritzes a tiny bit on his inner wrist and brings it up close to his nose. The scent is like a punch in the face, leaving him reclining back with a furrowed brow.
Too strong.
"We're going to be late to Jaemin's if you don't hurry the fuck up," Donghyuck says, burning holes through Jeno's skull before letting out a deep sigh.
"Can you just pick one so we can go? We look like fucking idiots here."
Jeno only hums, cracking a small smile.
He couldn't chide him for being wrong—the two of them look very out of place. Their sharp silver jewelry, inked skin, and dazed boyish smiles contrast against the dainty bottles standing atop the soft pink shelves of the women's fragrance section like black on white.
"Firstly," Jeno begins, voice riddled with amusement. "You don't give a fuck about punctuality-"
"Oh look at you, going off with your big words."
Jeno spins around. "Hyuck, you're drinking a matcha frappucino while looking like that."
He points at the green drink the boy was sipping on, the extra whipped cream he asked for contradicting his hard exterior.
Donghyuck scoffs. "Sorry I don't like to drink death in a cup," he drawls, sarcasm dripping off his tongue.
He breaks his glare on the black-haired boy as he sees two girls standing a distance away, his face doing a 180 as he notices them not-so-discreetly staring.
Smirking, Donghyuck confidently throws them a wink. He watches with pride as flattered giggles spill from their lips, before turning back to Jeno, who had picked up another bottle.
"Why are you even doing this?" Donghyuck asks out of genuine curiosity, though it's hidden underneath the guise of annoyance.
"Y/N asked me to."
Here’s some money. Get me something you think I'd like, yeah? you had said. Or something that you'd like. I'll still wear it, I don't care. I trust your judgment.
Donghyuck snorts. "I'm convinced you'd do anything for Y/N," he mutters.
It's an offhand comment, yet it makes the black-haired boy put his tongue between his teeth as a weird, sprawling feeling erupts in his chest.
The thought of why he seemed willing to do anything for you had never occurred to him. Not because the thought had never shown up to the gates of his consciousness—Jeno was uncomfortably familiar with the strange feeling in his stomach when you were around—but because he never let it in.
He doesn't dare to let it in, even going as far as telling it to leave and never return each time it knocks—because if he did, he would spend hours in this perfume section, legs going numb from standing as it invaded and overtook his brain, preventing him from getting anything done.
His eyes land on one last bottle. It's a clear one, with a clean, minimalistic label.
Lazy Sunday Morning. Maison Margiela.
Jeno repeats the action he's done with multiple bottles by now; spritzing the fragrance onto a new, untouched area of his inner arm and bringing it up to smell.
It's soft, it's floral, it's feminine. It infiltrates his senses in the way fresh, cotton bed sheets would. The soft sun after the rain.
It's how you look when he comes over to your apartment unannounced on a random weekend morning: wearing an oversized white shirt and a pair of high-waisted sports shorts.
It's the strawberry lip gloss that always stains your lips. It's your Hello Kitty pillowcase that you wash way more often than Jeno washes his, for which you constantly nag him for being unhygienic.
It's your flushed, red face at parties, your preference for tea over coffee—your smaller, softer hand grabbing his calloused one when he gets nervous.
Jeno thinks it's you, and he hopes you think it's you too.
He slowly turns around to Donghyuck, who's fidgeting with the tattered sleeve of his leather jacket.
"Smell this," he prompts, snapping the brown-haired boy out of his daze.
Donghyuck tugs at Jeno's arm, bringing it up to his face and taking a quick whiff before letting it fall. "Smells nice. I'm sure Y/N will like it. Now let's go," he presses, already taking off towards the exit.
Jeno only shakes his head, gaze falling on the bottle he held in his ring-clad fingers. He thinks it would look nice on your vanity, next to all your other bottles of products.
He doesn't know what they do, but they make you, you.
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Donghyuck, whose brown strands are now dyed a refreshing purple, throws his head back howling with laughter as he sees you and Jeno approach the food court table.
He receives several displeased stares from nearby people, but he doesn't seem to care in the slightest, only being able to focus on what Jeno is wearing.
"Oh my fucking god, Jeno," he wails incoherently, pointing at his friend's pants while clutching his stomach. "What- what are those?"
Your choice to wear a pair of light-washed, ripped skinny jeans to come to the mall turned out to be a massive mistake. You're bitter towards the person who first said "beauty is pain" because of how miserably right they are; whose idea was it to make girls' pants so uncomfortable?
The walk across the parking lot to the entrance was enough for your legs to start screaming for relief, resulting in you pleading with Jeno to switch with you.
Jeno drops down into the empty seat next to Jaemin, letting out a deep sigh. He rubs at his temples as Donghyuck's high-pitched, maniacal laughter erratically rings throughout the air.
This is exactly why he was adamant about declining your request; Lee Donghyuck is an entity of pure evil, and Jeno felt the humiliation creeping up on him from behind like a tiger ready to pounce.
But as he always seems to do, he relented.
Now, his sweatpants sit comfortably on your hips, bunching up at your ankles while he wears your jeans, the pant ends stopping halfway up his calves.
"She was chafing," he mutters, referring to you.
Donghyuck laughs loudly and unapologetically, reaching down to poke at Jeno's bare knee through the large rips of the jeans. His actions result in him getting a hard slap on the arm, eliciting a pained "ow!" from him.
You give Jeno a sweet smile, slipping him another whispered apology before feeling a gentle tug at your wrist.
Renjun begins to drag you away from the table, mumbling something along the lines of "new premium watercolour set" and "20% off". Jumping up from his seat, Donghyuck follows suit with a devilish smile etched on his face, immediately asking the shorter boy to buy him a vinyl he had his eye on from earlier.
Jaemin watches as the three of you fade into the crowd of customers, leaving only him and Jeno at the table. As soon as you disappear from his sight, he whips around with anticipation. "So?"
A shaky blink. "So..?"
"So? Have you thought about what I said?"
Jeno doesn't respond as he stills, his lips pursed carefully.
Of course he had thought about what Jaemin said.
He tried his goddamn hardest not to, just like he has with every other possible reasoning behind his feelings that wandered into scary, uncharted territory—but how could he not? It wasn't something that he could just forget, like remembering to wash his socks or buying milk.
A week ago, Na Jaemin had brought upon him a revelation that was far too casually dropped at one of the group's regular get-togethers. It was like a silent bomb, and it had been doing no less than eating at him alive.
He wants to deny it so badly. In fact, that's exactly what he's been doing—denying its possibility of being true, denying its existence at all.
If it was going to slip through the cracks of the iron gates, Jeno was going to make sure it felt as unwelcome as possible.
And that's exactly what he does.
"I have," he begins meekly.
Upon hearing these words, Jaemin's lips stretch into a wide smile. "And?"
"...and I don't think you're right."
The lights in the younger's eyes flicker out just as quickly as they turned on. He doesn't even bother to hide his disappointment, giving his best friend a deadpan stare. "Are you serious?"
"Yes."
He was expecting this reaction from Jaemin, but he couldn't let it get to him. Not when he couldn't let the narrative Jaemin was pressing so adamantly a week ago be true.
A loud sigh rips through the air. "Jeno, why are you so in denial?"
"I'm not in denial. It's not true."
Jaemin leans forward, looking into his best friend's eyes. He could tell there was a deep, buried sense of longing behind those dark irises.
"Lee Jeno," he begins slowly.
"I have known you nearly my entire life. I have been by your side since we were puny, disgusting first graders, and I have never seen you be so caring towards someone."
Jaemin has always doted on you.
He reminds you of a worrying mother; a fairy who is always there to remind you to dress warmly and take your vitamins. When you had a fever, Jeno had knocked on the door of your apartment only to be let in by Jaemin, who had been in your kitchen making his mother's soup recipe for you.
Donghyuck is the playful, sarcastic brother you never had.
He's the one who always encourages you to down another shot, to get you to do crazy things like jumping off the roof into a pool. But he's warm when he needs to be; Jeno had walked in one night through the door of his and Donghyuck's shared apartment to find you dumping your emotions onto the honey-skinned boy's shirt as he whispered words of consolation.
Renjun indulges your passionate side.
You share so much in common with him and you value his opinion like a sacred script. He's your 3AM therapist for your woes, he's your debate opponent for any topic—he's the one who encouraged you to chase after your dreams when you had trouble deciding on whether to choose what your parents wanted for you, or what you wanted for yourself.
Jeno thinks he's just Lee Jeno to you. 
The captain of the basketball team you met back in junior year of high school, who’s an architecture major at the same university you go to. Your best friend, but only if you thought so.
When it's about the others, Jeno seems to see everything—how they care for you, in what ways they’re integrated into your life—he doesn’t seem to notice how much he cares for you. 
He doesn't think about how sometimes, he miraculously finds himself entering your apartment at the crack of dawn to remind you to bring an assignment that's due that day. And when you knock your hand against his, silenting asking for him to hold it, he’ll reluctantly put his cold, mysterious image aside to gently slip his hand into yours.
There was one time when you asked to go stargazing in the dead of the night. Despite the subzero weather outside, not an ounce of regret coursed through his body when he agreed to go with you.
He couldn’t feel his fingers when he was out there, but it didn’t feel like it mattered when he saw you pointing at constellations with a smile of pure euphoria painted on your features.
He doesn’t notice how you notice that he cares.
The way your eyes lit up when he quietly entered your room with medicine and a hot water bottle went unseen by him. You never told him that Renjun was only half of the reason why you chose to pursue art, and that seeing him choose architecture over the path his own parents wanted for him pushed you over the edge.
He seems to remember you curled up to Donghyuck's side, but not how as soon as you saw him walk through the doorway, you gently peeled yourself up from the couch, out of Donghyuck's hold to throw yourself onto him, because you had come to their apartment looking for him. For his hold, for his comfort.
No, he doesn't notice these things because he's selectively blind when it comes to the possibility of there ever being a 'you and him', and it drives Jaemin nuts.
Jaemin laughs, dumbfounded. 
"For fucks sake, Jeno," he exclaims, dragging his hands down his face. "You're literally wearing women's jeans right now."
He removes his hands from his face, staring deeply into his best friend's eyes in a last-ditch effort to get through to the stubborn boy.
"You're in love with her."
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"I'm sorry."
At this point, you’ve lost track of how many times those two words had left Jeno's lips.
The party downstairs blares in the background, though it’s muffled by the closed door. Jeno’s murmured apologies are the only sounds that fill the air, other than the squelches of water as you squeezed your shirt in the sink. 
You turn your head around to look at him, a soft smile tugging at your lips. He’s sitting on the edge of the acrylic bathtub, sliding his rings up and down his fingers with a distant look on his face.
"Stop apologizing. It's okay."
Despite graduating two years ago, Johnny Suh still parties like it’s his full-time job, and being in his second-floor bathroom makes the room feel like it’s a physical manifestation of his spirit.
There’s two lights above the bathroom mirror, though one of them had blown its fuse. It casts a dim, aquamarine light that reaches every corner of the small room, highlighting the slightly frayed shower curtains and dark crevices of the floor tiles. There’s a few shaving products and the remains of a half-smoked blunt strewn across the surface of the otherwise clean countertop.
The reason why you and Jeno are in the bathroom instead of downstairs isn’t one the boy’s proud of. 
You didn’t run into Jeno until around halfway through the night. They say you haven’t had the real college experience if you haven’t gone to a Johnny Suh party, and the flocks of people that covered every part of the estate prove how much people value getting their tuition’s worth.
A light sheen of sweat is apparent on your forehead as you try your best to weave your way through the masses. You don’t even know where you’re going, and you could feel it growing stuffier as more people spilled into the halls.
It’s only until you suddenly feel a piercing cold sensation on your chest do you see something other than drunk college students pressed together.
You come face-to-face with Lee Jeno, who’s staring at you with big, round eyes and lips parted in sheer horror.
You glance down at your own body. The center of your chest is several shades darker, a large wet splotch prominently standing out against the beige fabric of your long-sleeved top. 
Your eyes dart between your top and Jeno’s red solo cup that had several droplets of liquid dribbling down its side. Realizing what just happened, you can’t help but laugh.
“Why hello to you too, mister,��� you say between giggles.
Jeno’s face is flushing redder by the second, and there’s a big bump on his head from the imaginary hammer that struck him for being so stupid. 
A few seconds go by of just him staring at you before stutters spill from his lips. 
“I- Oh my- oh my god,” he breathes out. “Oh my fucking god, Y/N, I’m so sorry-”
“It’s okay. I needed an excuse to get away from all the noise anyways,” you cut him off, reaching for his free hand. 
“Come with me to the bathroom?”
The words flow out of your mouth like a smooth, running stream; casual, and far more relaxed than the jittery feeling in Jeno's stomach. He doesn’t resist in the slightest, the feeling of your touch sending a surge of electricity up his arm.
Finally looking up from the metal around his fingers, Jeno’s breath hitches.
His eyes trail down your figure with innocent intention. The thin straps of your ivory, silk camisole delicately sit on your collarbone, your black miniskirt hugging your waist. 
He doesn’t realize he’s even staring, not when he’s mesmerized by the slope of your nose, or the outline of your cupid’s bow.
There’s something that the aquamarine glow is doing to you that makes his jaw go slack.
Usually, he’d be alert, keeping his thoughts in check—but the slight intoxication seeped through him, and he can feel himself growing careless.
Jeno's hand twitches. You're within arm's reach, he could reach for your waist and pull you right into him—but he doesn't, because that would ruin the scene.
This scene of you standing in front of the sink, twisting your shirt in your hands with a small crease in your brow. It's so domestic, so perfect—he can't help but wonder what it'd be like to see you like this every day—
—and then, he hears it.
There it is, the violent banging on the gates. It echoes through the halls from outside, persistent and maybe just a bit desperate. Or, was it actually his heart thumping against his chest?
Open up! it yelled. You would do anything for her. You're in love with her, idiot!
Had it been his heart all along?
"There we go," you give your top one final twist, grinning with satisfaction as the water drips down clear.
You turn the sink off and unravel the top from its scrunched-up form, flapping it a few times to prevent creases.
"That should do it. Okay, let's go back downstairs. Hyuck bet ten dollars I couldn't beat him in beer pong and I'm going to make him eat his wor-"
Your rambling is cut off as soon as you turn toward the boy on the edge of the tub. He's staring at you with misty eyes, and you can't stop yourself from taking a step closer.
"Jeno?" you call, leaning down to meet him at eye level.
Eyes twinkling with mirth, you lower yourself into a crouching position, and your hand finds its place on his knee. You let your fingers drum on the fabric of his black jeans, musing your wonder.
"You're drunk, aren't you? How much have you had to drink?"
The action is mindless, and Jeno knows it. The two of you often shared small, habitual touches—but this time, it's wholly different.
"I'm- I'm not drunk," he croaks out.
A light-hearted snicker. "Sure you aren't."
"I'm not."
"Then why is your face so red?"
"I'm just... thinking about something."'
An amused chuckle leaves your mouth before you muse your wonders, "You're drunk, Jen. But, would you care to share?"
Jeno feels himself unclicking the locks. "Okay," he huffs out nervously.
The iron gates swing slightly ajar.
"I'm thinking about how I would do anything for you."
A pause goes by. The sound of the music downstairs seems to have gotten even louder, to the point where Jeno can't hear his own breathing. He wonders if he's even still breathing as his gaze rests on you intensely, waiting for your reaction.
When your fingers stop drumming against his knee, Jeno's world stops.
"O-oh."
Your expression is indecipherable as his words sink in, eyes growing rounder and your lips part.
Your eyes dart around Jeno's face to see if you can locate a trace of playfulness, a hint that he wasn't thinking straight—and while his flushed, rosy cheeks are a telltale that he's a little intoxicated, his eyes are heavy with sincerity.
He's being serious, and it brings you to a loss for words.
"A-and? What did you conclude?" you manage to stutter out, peering up at him.
This is exactly what he was afraid of. Afraid of your disappointed expression, your lips ready to utter the inevitable words he wished he'd never have to hear.
He's not even sure what those words exactly are, because Lee Jeno feels like a fucking mess right now, but he'll know in a few seconds after you say them—
"I... I don't really know why..."
A lightbulb clicks in your head. You seem to realize Jeno's implications before he even does himself.
"Jeno?" you prompt, voice feather-soft.
The boy's eyes are screwed shut by now, unable to look you in the eyes. He's trying to lock the gates closed again, as they were for so long.
"Hmm?" he weakly hums.
"I love you."
Jeno's attempts are futile. The thought is victorious.
It pushes past his regret-driven efforts. It floods his head akin to a raging tsunami.
It's so loud. The music in the background is so loud.
You are so loud. Your eyes, your grip on his knee, your words—
—they're so loud.
She just said she loves me.
"I've loved you for so long. Do you love me too?" you whisper, hand subconsciously reaching for his.
It shocks Jeno how his voice doesn't fail him. "You love me?"
"I do."
"M-more than a friend?"
"Much more. I love you like I'll never have you, even if I always find myself in your arms," you say, letting out a dry chuckle as a small smile graces your face.
"Do you love me too?" you repeat.
The gates snap off their hinges from the sheer force, and the thought chants a victory song—
You're in love with her!
Jeno blinks.
I'm in love with her.
Jeno never seemed to mind, when it came to you. He never seemed to mind wearing your light blue skinny jeans for you, and he never seemed to mind looking out of place with his grungy demeanor inside of a delicate perfume section either. He never seemed to mind waking up at an ungodly hour for you, and he never seemed to mind holding you when the world was against you.
And as you look at him, your face glimmering underneath the dim, bathroom light—it clicks.
Jeno suddenly realizes why he'd be willing to do anything for you. He'd be willing to get you the moon and the stars if you asked, because he loves you.
And, because you deserve it. It's the least he could do for you for loving him.
Reaching out a wavering hand, Jeno gently pulls you up from your crouching position so the both of you could stand. Your gaze never leaves him, your previous question still hanging in the air.
The boy rests his hand delicately on your jaw. His eyes glaze over your face, taking in your beautiful features before landing on your lips with a shaky exhale.
"Do you love me too?" you ask for a third time, your irises shining with hope.
"Fuck," he breathes out. "I- I do. I love you, so much."
You don't even get the chance to beam at his confession before he closes the distance between the two of you, his soft lips against yours.
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rubiehart · 30 days
Note
Bsf!JJ gets in a scuff with Rafe and you show up, and just deck Rafe with one punch & JJ looks at you like he could fuck you right then and there, he’s never had someone defend him so hardcore before & be able to knock someone out with one punch
this is leopard!reader coded to me, but i love this so much
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“yo- bro!” jj yells, a blur of blonde hair as he ducks out of the way of rafe’s unexpected fist, dropping the grocery bags he’d been carrying in both hands onto the hard pavement, the smash of beer bottles heard as rafe chuckles.
“think i wasn’t gonna- find you or somethin’ pogue? i mean- cmon.” he smirks devilishy, kooky shirt rolled up around his sleeves as he whistles, knuckles cracking as jj pops back up, a groan from rafe when he hits him square in the nose. “you’re gonna fuckin’ regret that.”
you sit in the front seat of the twinkie, around the corner from the little convenience store, knawing at your nails absentmindedly when you hear a muffled yell. your eyes brows knit curiously, cracking the door open to the stuffy van, letting your ears zero in on the sound.
as fast as you hear it you’re on your feet, slamming the heavy door behind you, quickly jogging around the corner, hands grazing the brick wall as you peer around it. jj’s on the ground, panting heavily as the blonde mop hangs over his head, shards of dark glass shattered all over the floor around them.
jj’s eyes flicker to her for a second, quickly correcting himself to watch rafe’s figure carefully. “i mean- like, shit!” rafe yells out, hands moving rapidly as you sense his anger picking up, you have to move now.
you creep out from behind the wall, preparing yourself for whatever was about to happen. “rafe, get your fuckin’ hands off him!” you yell, voice stern and steady as you pace towards him quickly. rafe doesn’t look back, but he knows the only person it could be.
“looks like your girl’s here to save you, damn, pogue.” rafe mutters, stupid smirk still on his face as he begins to turn around, but you’ve already beaten him. your first colliding straight with this nose, teeth bared and knuckles strong as he stumbles back.
“oh, fuck!” he groans, hands coming up to cup his face protectively, giving you a perfect opportunity to land a knee to his balls, “fuck you!” you spit, leaving him flat on the floor, rolling and groaning in pain.
a grin graces your face as you realise what you’d down, eyes flicking to jj, but he’s wide eyed, cheeks flushed, holding his cap in his two hands, seemingly over his crotch. “what?” you pant lightly, reaching one hand up to swipe at your forehead. ignoring the sound of rafe stirring on the hard ground, muttering promises to get his revenge.
he always was a drama queen.
“oh- uh- nothin’.” he shrugs, reaching for your hand faster than you can blink and taking off around the corner with you, rafe’s shouts of protest far behind you as you giggle, clambering into the old van and speeding off, the vehicle practically drifting around the corners with the speed as you laugh.
“i’ve never loved you more.” jj admits with a chuckle, the wind blowing though the open windows, making you feel even more alive than you already were. you laugh, he joins in and silently prays you’ll be able to say the same one day.
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katsu28 · 1 year
Text
to the moon and back
pairing: Bradley Bradshaw x reader 
summary: bradley tries to surprise you with a Valentine’s Day date night, and you surprise him right back with something else 
warnings: none! just 2k of lovey dovey fluff
a/n: happy early valentine’s day besties!!! if u don’t have one ur gonna be mine now ok MWAH love u to the moon and back ;)
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There wasn’t supposed to be anyone in your apartment right now. 
You lived alone, and the only other person who had a key to your place was your boyfriend, and Bradley was meant to be on base all day, so when you got home today and saw a pair of shoes that weren’t yours nudged off to the side of the front door, you were entirely confused. Bradley’s Bronco wasn’t parked in the driveway like it usually was when he came over, but those were most definitely his shoes. 
“Bradley? You here?” You called warily, toeing off your own shoes. Normally, he’d respond immediately, oftentimes barreling out of wherever he was to come wrap you in a hug, or (no matter how much you pretended to hate it) grabbing you from behind as you went looking for him, peppering your neck with kisses until you begged him to stop. 
There was no answer, but an assortment of things were spread out on the kitchen counter when you made your way there—a bouquet of flowers, a few bags filled to the brim with groceries, a bottle of wine—but no Bradley anywhere to be found. 
It wasn’t until you ventured towards the living room that you found him. Bradley was sprawled out on the couch, long legs thrown over the armrest on one side while his head laid propped up on a pillow at the other end. His arms were crossed over his chest, mouth hung slightly open whilst he snored away, blissfully unaware that you were home. 
As cute as he looked sleeping, you perched at the edge of the couch, giving his shoulder a gentle nudge so as not to startle him awake. When that didn’t work, you pressed a lingering kiss to his cheek. 
Bradley inhaled a deep breath at the feeling of your lips against his skin, craning his neck to take in his surroundings as he blinked awake slowly. 
“Mornin’, stranger,” You hummed, smoothing his hair away from his forehead. His bleary eyes focused on you, widening instantly. 
“Oh fuck!” He breathed, jumping a little in his laid back position. 
“Hi to you too, Bradley.” 
“Sorry. I mean, hi. It’s just—shit, I was gonna surprise you when you came home.” 
“Oh don’t worry, I was. Y’know, when I gave you a key, I didn’t mean use it so you can take a nap on my couch,” You teased. 
“I didn’t mean to!” He groaned, dragging both hands down his face. “I had this whole Valentine’s date night thing planned, I got wine and flowers and I was gonna make dinner, but I sat down for literally just a second and now…” 
“Hey, Valentine’s Day isn’t over yet. We can still do that,” You hummed, lacing your fingers through his with a pat to his knee. 
“Yeah, you’re right. Or,” he sat up suddenly, lunging and pulling you on top of him in one fell swoop, “we could just stay here on this couch all night, doing…stuff.” His nose rubbed against your cheek, lips following soon after in an attempt to bribe you to stay put. 
“While ‘stuff’ does sound very enticing, I’m actually kinda hungry, so…” Bradley was up in a split second, hefting you over his shoulder with ease. “Bradley!” You squealed, clutching at the hem of his shirt for leverage as he hiked over to the kitchen and planted you on one of the barstools. 
“You, stay right there. Do not let that cute butt leave that stool until I’m done here, got it?” He ordered, pointing at you with raised brows. You nodded, propping your chin up in your hand with a barely contained smile. He shuffled towards one of the cabinets, grabbing a wine glass and popping open the bottle he’d brought, pouring you a nice glass then cracking open a beer from the fridge for himself. 
He expertly located a vase in a different cabinet and filled it with water before sliding all three items across the counter to you. “These are for you, by the way.” 
“You know my favorites.” Your smile grew even wider at the thought, if at all possible. Bradley knew you well enough to get your favorite flowers and wine without even having to ask.
He snorted, seemingly offended that you dared mention it. “‘Course I know your favorites. It’s like, at the very front of my brain, all the time. The most important stuff, y’know?” 
“I feel like the most important stuff should be Navy related, no? Mister flies-a-multi-million-dollar-jet for a living.” 
“Yeah, that’s important too. But tell me who knows all your favorite things off the top of their head? You don’t even really have to tell me because the answer is me.” 
“Okay hotshot, if you’re such an expert, what’s for dinner?” 
He rattled off your favorite meal and dessert immediately, barely a second of hesitation before he started unpacking the bags on the counter. “Put the flowers in the vase for me, would ya? Make ‘em real nice and pretty, ‘cause that’s all I’m letting you do for the rest of the night.” 
“Bradley,” You whined, pouting at him. “I wanna help!” 
“No, this is my thing. Get your own!” 
“You’re insufferable.” You huffed, glaring at him sulkily. Bradley didn’t respond, just winked at you as he donned the hot pink ‘Kiss the chef’ apron you’d gotten for him as a joke a few months ago. You thought he’d hate it, but to your surprise, he was actually quite taken with it, opting to put it on every time he was in your kitchen and demand kisses “because the apron said so”. 
Dinner was ready soon enough, and now you were sat down at the table, thoroughly wiped from the long day you’d both had but still happy to spend this time with each other. You’d never get tired of seeing Bradley sitting across from you almost everyday, but especially today with how thoughtful he was being. It made you feel warm and fuzzy inside. Loved. Like you always did with him. 
“Thank you for making dinner, Bradley, this looks—wow, this looks amazing.”
“‘Course, anything for my girl. Happy Valentine’s Day, sweetheart.” He held his beer out to cheers your wine glass, beaming at you. 
“Happy Valentine’s Day, Bradley.” 
“Okay, not to, like, diminish the romance here, but I really think this is some of my best cooking yet, so dig in.” 
-------
Dinner and dessert had been long since finished, but you and Bradley were still sitting at the table, where he had just finished telling you about how Fanboy had accidentally turned Payback’s underwear pink by putting a red shirt in the laundry. 
Bradley’s hand lifted to scratch at his cheek, and with that action you suddenly remembered something. 
“I have something for you.” You blurted, lips quirking up into a smile. 
“Please tell me it’s just you, me, and the rest of this wine while we watch shitty romcoms, because I really don’t need anything other than that.” 
“It’s just a little thing!” You protested, sliding out of your chair and dropping a kiss to his cheek before hurrying to your room to grab it. Bradley was still sitting in his seat when you returned, though he was now sporting a rather confused look on his face when you perched at the edge of the table, pressing a wooden box into his palm. “For Valentine’s Day. My gift to you.” 
“What is this?” He asked softly, looking up at you. You just smiled warmly, nodding for him to open it and he did, brow creasing for a split second at the contents. Sitting inside was a vintage watch, a little scuffed on the face with a leather strap weathered from use, but still ticking strongly. 
You gauged his reaction carefully, waiting for the moment his confusion turned to realization at what he was actually holding in his hands. 
“Wait. Is this…” He trailed off, flipping it around carefully, looking for the telltale inscription on the back that would confirm his suspicions. Just as he thought, the words etched into the metal were just as he remembered them, the same words he’d read and reread a thousand times when he was a kid. 
My darling Nick, I love you to the moon and back. Love, your Carole.
Disbelieved, Bradley’s eyes flicked to you, mouth dropping open just the tiniest bit. “This is my dad’s.”
You nodded, drawing your lower lip between your teeth. His face split into a blinding grin, one so big that his eyes crinkled at the edges as he leaned forward in his chair, one large hand splaying along your back to pull you across his lap with ease. 
“You like it?” 
“Like it? I love it.” He nodded earnestly, placing the watch gently back into the box before giving your hip a little squeeze. “Little thing, my ass! Honey, this is…so much more than just a little thing, where’d you even find it?” 
“I can’t take all the credit here, I did have a little help from Mav. He’s the one who dug it out of all of your mom’s stuff.” 
“And you got it working again!” 
“Took it to a watch repair shop a few towns over.” You shrugged, tracing a finger along the buttons of his shirt. “I was gonna replace the glass over the face, but I figured you’d wanna keep it just the way your dad did. We can still switch it out if you want though—” 
Bradley shook his head profusely. “It’s perfect. You’re perfect. You’re literally perfect, and I’m—shit, how did I get so lucky to find you?” 
“Funny, I ask myself the same thing about you all the time.” You said softly, taking his face in your hands and pressing your forehead against his. Bradley’s eyes fell shut briefly as he leaned into your touch, arms tightening around your waist until there wasn’t any more space between the two of you. 
You took advantage of that closeness to take him by surprise, kissing him square on the mouth, firm but slow. You hoped he could feel how much you loved him through it. 
Bradley’s hand found your knee, giving it a squeeze before starting to rub mindless circles as he kissed you back passionately. It would be totally cliche to say that his kiss sent butterflies through your stomach, his touch sending electricity through your veins, but you’d gladly use every single cliche in the book to describe the way Bradley Bradshaw made you feel, right now, all the time, every single moment you were with him. Even times when you weren’t with him too. That was just the effect he had on you. 
“I love you to the moon and back, sweet girl.” 
You beamed. “Yeah?” 
“Absolutely yeah. You’re the girl of my dreams, and I promise you, I’m gonna marry you one day.” 
“Wow, big dreams, huh?” You teased, sliding your hand into the hair at the nape of his neck. 
“Well y’know what they say, go big or go home,” He shrugged, offering you a cheeky wink. “And I, for one, am not planning on going home anytime soon.” 
“That’s presumptuous of you.” 
“Oh please, like you were gonna let me leave tonight in the first place.” 
“You’re never leaving, Bradley Bradshaw.” You murmured, stroking your thumb across his cheek. “I’m gonna keep you forever, you wanna know why?” 
Bradley looked equal parts pleased and amused, eyes shining with nothing but the purest of love as he gazed at you. “Why?” 
“‘Cause I love you to the moon and back.”
“There you go again,” He sighed dramatically, shaking his head. “Taking my thing.” 
“Uh no, technically it was your parents’ thing.” You fired back, tipping your chin up defiantly. Bradley laughed, a booming chuckle that resonated through your body. 
“So it’s a Bradshaw thing.” 
“According to you, I’ll be a Bradshaw one day, so…” 
“What a day that’ll be, huh, sweetheart? Gonna be the best day of my life.” 
“Well then you better hurry up and propose to me already, shouldn’t you?” 
“Look who’s presumptuous now!” 
“You’re insufferable, Bradshaw.”
It wouldn’t be now, and maybe it wouldn’t be any time soon, but when the day came and the question was popped, there was nobody else you’d even dream of spending the rest of your life with other than the insufferable Bradley Bradshaw. 
taglist!
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fuckmyskywalker · 8 months
Text
"Benzodiazepines." — Anakin Skywalker.
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— CW: 18+, smut! Somnophilia. Stepcest (Anakin calls himself "big brother"). Dubcon/Noncon. Drug use. Mild mentions of rimming/anal, manhandling. Anakin is pretty nasty. | Word Count: 1k (not proofread!)
— List of films! | Taglist.
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Standing next to your bed, Anakin smiles. It is a wicked, creepy smile; loaded with a sick pleasure and lust— with something unsettling. Picking up the glass of water you always keep in your nightstand, he pops open the little glass bottle that cost him quite a lot… Only to pour half of it. Twirling the water with his finger he wipes it out in your blanket, placing the glass back on your nightstand and hiding inside your closet.
Patience is key. Anakin learned that a while ago. This is something that has been occupying his mind for a while now, and he isn't sure if he’ll be able to last as much as he meticulously planned. 
He shouldn't feel like this. He shouldn't even have any sort of romantic or sexual attraction towards you— his stepsibling— yet, he finds himself jerking almost every night in the adjacent room with a pair of dirty underwear he stole from your laundry basket; sometimes he'll wrap them around his dick, other days he will sniff them, even lick them… anything.
Unable to stop himself, Anakin’s palms his soft cock, eager to see how the night unravels. It doesn't take you long to return from your nightly shower, wrapped in a short towel and changing right in front of your closet. Anakin knows you keep your next outfit laid over the edge of your bed. In fact— he knows every single little detail about you, from the foods that make your nose scrunch, to the different vibrations of your toy whenever you use it in the middle of the night when you think everyone is asleep.
Anakin never sleeps. Not even when you are asleep. 
He would never waste time that he can spend with you.
So he waits. He waits rubbing his now semi-hard cock, watching you dress, brush your hair and even apply those scented lotions and serums that you adore so much. But he has a different reasoning tonight… he will coat your face with something else. 
He watches you drink every single drop of water, and when it comes to that point— his cock is as hard as it can get, it even hurts. Reaching for the half-full bottle he twirls it in his palm, reading the side effects:
«May cause Anterograde amnesia. Consume responsibly. Don’t consume if you are pregnant, lactating, or are allergic to any of the components.»
You sit on your bed, draping the covers over your body and yawning. Assuming it was a long day, you close your eyes as the door of your closet creeks open slowly. Paying it no mind, you continue relaxing under the warmth of the blankets when you hear a heavy breathing next to you.
Snapping your eyes open, you fail to notice the effort it takes you to even do such an automatic task. “Anakin?” You ask confused. “What are you doing here?” You eye behind him, noticing the closet doors wide open. The realization hits you like a bucket of cold water, freezing every bone and nerve so much you can’t move. “Where you inside my fucking closet?”
He coos at you, placing a hand over your forehead and caressing your skin. His other hand peels the blankets off your body allowing his blue eyes to gobble with your beautiful body. “Shhh… it’s okay. Your big brother will take care of you” His voice isn't soothing at all, but the drowsy state that begins to fog your brain mistakes the creepy tone with a calming one. So soft and tender.
“Anakin…” You whisper, barely conscious by the time he is lifting up your shirt and groping your breasts. His indexes and thumbs pinch your nipples, pulling them gently, admiring your late and slow reactions. Every little arch and jolt is delayed, and his body shivers with excitement.
By the time you finally fall asleep, dragged to a peaceful, forced slumber you won’t be able to remember, Anakin already yanks his sweats down, and fists his cock furiously at the sight of your limp, almost lifeless body. He knows the drugs are quite harsh, especially since he gave you a rather large dose— so maybe he has even more time than he initially thought. 
After toying with you for a while, manhandling you, twisting your body into any position he can imagine, Anakin finally lays you down on your stomach, spreading your ass with his trembling, sweaty hands and kneeling behind you. His tongue circles your puckered hole as his eyes roll to the back of his head, he can’t believe he is finally able to fulfill his most carnal, lustful desires— and even now, when he is spitting on your already dripping pussy, Anakin still can’t believe he is taking what he thinks belongs to him.
You.
“That's it—” He praises you as your body doesn't even react to his thrust. There’s no need to be nice, it is not as if you are going to remember this anyway. “Take this fucking cock— you love your big brother’s cock don’t you?”
The lack of response makes Anakin moan louder, painfully aware of how his mother and your father are sleeping downstairs. His hips snap against yours in an animalistic, primal manner, chasing his own high and relying on the way your cunt keeps squeezing him, coating him with your involuntary slick and enveloping him like a warm velvety glove. 
Your body doesn't even tremble, and every now and then Anakin has to stop to make sure you are still breathing— when he confirms you are still in fact alive, he smirks deviously and pushes your face further down your pillows, slapping your ass playfully in the process.
“Aren’t you a p–pretty thing… taking my cock so good, so well. As if you were— fuck— made for me…”
“Such a little slut for your stepbrother’s dick aren't you… I know—I know…”
The deep slumber he is giving you doesn't seem to come to an end anytime soon, so Anakin knows he has… potentially four to five hours to do as he pleases with you. He fills your pussy up with his cum, making sure to push it back in with his fingers. He tongues and fingers your pretty tight hole until it is stretched and ready for another finger, he sucks and nibbles your tits until your nipples are swollen, and he forces your mouth open with his thumb to slide his cock to the back of your throat…
It's not like you're going to remember any of this anyway.
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whaleofatjme1920 · 8 months
Text
Kinktober Day 4: Stalking/Obsession
Stalking/Obsession - Eyeless Jack X F!Reader
Warnings: DUB CON, breeding kink, biting, marking
AN: I don't speak Polish so forgive me </3. ALSO this is a take on my dear @creepynoodleheadcannons's prompt featuring EJ on Day 19 from their 2022 Kinktober. Will tag the fic HERE.
KINKTOBER MASTERLIST
Reblogs are appreciated!
In the darkness of your room, you sat curled in your sheets with the feeling of dread coursing through your veins. Sweat ran down your brow, down the back of your neck and soaked your bed as you stared at your window. You saw his shadow looming just outside, a monstrous being that had been tormenting you for the first half of the year. Your heart thumped wildly in your chest like a little rabbit about to be caught in the jaws of a wolf as his claws scratched against it. 
He’d never been so bold before. 
When he first started, he was silent. His sharp claws played with the seams of your mind, delicately lifting the fragile threads before popping them up and breaking them, reveling in the sound of the strings snapping. It was small. A coffee cup you’d thrown away with your lipstick marks had gone missing but you assumed you’d managed to throw it out somewhere else. The hairs from your brush had been cleaned out but weren’t in the trash. Some of your clothing had gone missing. You assumed that you were becoming increasingly forgetful, but your underwear going missing? Your still full shampoo and conditioner bottles disappearing? 
And then he revealed himself. You thought you’d accidentally summoned a demon when he first appeared in the corner of your eye. He was always there, watching, waiting, and so fucking persistent. The way he spoke about you was deranged, like you were the only thing he craved in the entirety of his life. He spoke of how sweet you’d be - his final meal, the feast to end all others. 
“Go… Go away,” you shakily cried out while you dug your face into the pillow in an attempt to fend him off. But you knew it was a useless attempt. Tonight was the night he’d finally make you his and devour you whole. Your body shook with fear as you watched the shadow of his hands move sluggishly, like he wawa toying with you on how slow he could be. Toying with you, building up his own anticipation with glee. You heard Polish spill from his lips, or maybe an archaic form of it, and like magic, the window flew open. It invited the colder of October air into your room, red and orange leaves spilled across your floor as his large form blocked out the light of the moon herself. 
“You don’t really mean that,” he purred. His voice was deep and laced with a Slavic accent that sung with the cadence of ancient gods and their demons. His face was hidden by a mask, a dark pool of inky blue while the eye sockets wept with tar. If you looked close enough, you could see the knife marks of where it had been carved a very, very long time ago. He slipped through your window despite his size. Your nose filled with his scent. Musk. The earth. Iron. Smoke from campfires not long doused. Ammonia. 
Your stomach wanted to wretch at the very smell of him. Fear stoked every part of your body as you pried your eyes away from your pillow and peeked up at him. He was large, much too large. The moonlight framed him as dark and imposing. He was strong, you knew that, and his skin was the color of ash. And for a creature that seemed to take joy in pursuing a much more human form, he still reeked of otherworldly. His legs were cloven, like that of a black goat, and his teeth were sharp, slightly yellowed and large like that of an apex predator. Roots and the earth seemed to crawl up his legs like the earth itself wanted to reclaim him, and his joints didn’t seem to fit him right. His elbows, his knees, shoulders, everything was popped into place haphazardly, a vessel to contain something much larger than what he was born as. 
He took advantage of your fear as you looked up at him. His grin only widened behind his mask. He crawled up your bed, caging you in with his body. His clawed hands traced your warm body as you balled up in a weak attempt to shut him out from you. 
“Please, don’t,” you murmur as you watch his clawed hands crawl up your body. “I already told you no-”
He gave you a look from behind his mask before reaching his hand upwards to remove it. His arm moved over to rest it on your nightstand, as if he were making himself comfortable. His mouth was curled upwards into a grin, large and knowing. 
“Come now, kochanie moje. Don’t be so frigid towards me. Open up. Let me in.” His sharp talons moved to cut your clothes from your body, not caring about your cries of protest. “You cannot resist me forever,” he whispered in your ear as your body trembled. “Try and fight as you may, your body calls for me, and I must answer. You were meant for this,” he breathed in your ear as you meekly held your hand up to his large chest in another attempt to push him off. 
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you whispered. 
“Tak kochanie,” he whispered back, “you do. I need you. Don’t you see what you’re doing to me? I need your body, your heart, your mind, your very soul,” he groaned as his hand traced your soft, supple skin. “I want to breed you to make you mine forever.” 
His words sent chills down your spine as you shook like a leaf. You shook your head. “You can’t-”
“Don’t worry,” he purred once more, voice hungry and lusty, “I’ll make it feel good. I always do.” 
You were almost snapped out of your fear from the second half of his sentence but found it quickly returned when his teeth sunk into your neck. “Oh fuck!” You yelped, feeling the warm blood from your neck bead downwards to drape your collarbone and your nape. “What the hell was that for?” 
Jack didn’t immediately answer, only grinned and opened his mouth. A long, purple tongue slithered out and lapped at the teeth marks he’d left, a soft apology for drawing blood. “Mating mark,” he answered. “One of the many physical kinds I can give to you.” 
You kept your mouth shut as you felt his hands barely leave you to the belt of his pants. He undid it, and then slowly pumped his cock. Large, knotted, that was all you could see in the darkness only illuminated by the moonlight. So distracted by how girthy and large he was and the fact you KNEW he wouldn’t fit inside of you, a cry ripped free from your throat as his other hand effortlessly pried your legs apart. 
Jack’s clawed fingers easily moved down to your pussy, already wet from the budding anticipation. He cooed condescendingly. “Awh, and here I thought I would need to convince you even more.” His index and middle finger opened your lips up, and through the darkness, his sockets keyed in on your glistening pussy. “You were made for this, to please me, to be bred by me.” Slowly, he slid his index finger inside of you and watched through the darkness of your room as you bloomed for him. Heat painted your entire body, most notably your cheeks - Jack’s always had the ability to sort of ‘toggle’ thermal vision - and that’s where the heat was most notably concentrated. Well, that and definitely between your legs. Your pussy was burning for him. Needed to be filled, didn’t it? 
His index finger was soon joined by his middle, and he stretched you out as best as he could. “You feel so warm, kochanie,” he grinned. “So soft and sweet, and you smell just as good too. Maybe I should get a taste before I take you,” he thought aloud. 
Fearing retaliation, you hesitantly nodded. “Okay,” you squeaked like a deer caught in headlights. It didn’t help that your body seemed to call for him. Despite how much you knew this wasn’t good, your body squeezed around him. When his thumb circled your clit, you moaned softly, embarrassed that you showed him even a smidge of pleasure. He thumbed your clit some more and felt your hips buck up. 
And he laughed. Jack laughed. 
“See? I knew you couldn’t resist me.” After he fingered you a little bit more, enjoying the sounds of your soft moans and how you desperately tried to deny your true feelings towards him, he pulled his fingers out. “Do not pout,” he chuckled as he lifted his fingers to his lips. One of his tongues slithered out of his mouth once more before curling around his slick covered fingers. An obscene moan left his lips, and if he had eyes, you were sure that they would be rolling up. “Gods, you taste so good,” he praised. “So sugary and meaty,” he moaned again. “Perfectly made for me.” 
Jack mounted you this time, the head of his cock pressed against your tight lips as he watched you squirm underneath him. It was magical to see you buck your hips up like you could hardly resist him. “Open up, kochanie,” he cooed as he started to push his thick cock into you. He grinned when your nails dug into his uncovered forearms while your eyes widened. “Wrap your legs around me and breathe. Take me. Take me,” he whispered again and again, his hips pushing closer and closer to your body as his cock split you open. 
You did just that, legs wrapped tightly around his waist before moving your hands up to his back. Your nails dug into his hoodie while you pulled him tightly against you. Your heart rate skyrocketed as he pulled his hips back and then thrusted sharply forwards, the head of his cock hitting your cervix while not even fully hilted inside of you. His knot was thickly pressed against you, far too big for you to take, balls rested against your ass and heavy with cum. “Oh, oh my gods-” you wept as your body struggled to adjust to his size. He felt so big, every part of him. 
“Bloom for me,” he urged as he started to thrust his hips. His lips danced across your neck as he cock filled you with every thrust. “My sweet, sweet girl,” he praised, “look at you. How beautiful you are.” 
Your thighs were tense as he began to pick up the pace as you softly moaned for him, unable to deny any longer just how good Jack was making you feel. The tears that had welled in your eyes slipped down your cheeks but you unashamedly kept calling out for him. Your pussy felt so stretched open and still small as your slick gushed around him. You were soaking the bed from how good he stroked you. You arched your back slightly into his chest and tipped your head back to allow his lips to travel back up to your throat. You felt his teeth playfully move around where he’d already bitten you before softly biting you on the opposite side to mirror it. 
“You’re mine now, kochanie. Mine now forever.” The sounds of your moans were like music to his ears as he listened to your moans and how your body grew closer and closer to being knotted. He’d breed you, and then you’d have no choice but to be his for all eternity. 
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xlovelybluebellex · 4 months
Note
Caregiver Alastor x baby regressor reader who is very clingy
Guys I promise I’m going through my inbox, I swear. I just takes a little while 😭
Don’t Go
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You gazed up at Alastor, his eternal grin plastered on his face. The demon held a bottle to your mouth, letting you suckle it down like your last meal. You were always quite the hungry baby.
These were what afternoons were like when regressed. Alastor feeding you, the soft sound of jazz playing in the background, and his smile far more comforting than fearful to you.
It was perfect to you. The way he held you, how you felt no fear, and the tranquility of it all. A blanket sat beside you two, its soft texture desirable. You reached out, trying to yank the thing closer, making Alastor let out a small chuckle.
“My darling, always the handsy little tot.” He said, grabbing said blanket and handing it to you. You almost finished the last of your meal, his hand pulling it away slightly.
You watched him take it away once you were done, sitting you up and gently patting your back. You let out a tiny burp, letting a small giggle afterwords. “Well excuse you then, my fawn.” He said, tapping your nose and making you giggle more.
Just then, a knock was heard on the door.
You froze, looking up at Alastor in guidance as to what to do. “Relax, darling. Papa will take care of it, don’t you worry a bit!” He said, his tone basked in its usual forecaster sound. You let out a small whine, leading to him shushing you and placing a kiss on your head.
Alastor cracked the door open, his smile much less soft now. “What can I do for you, Husker my friend? You know I’m quite busy at this time, I am!” He said, the ‘I am’ in a sing songy voice.
“Yeah, well, so jackass outside was going off about how fucked up the hotel is. Vaggie would take care of it, but she ain’t in the mindset right now, much like someone else.” Husk said, gesturing to you.
Everyone in the hotel was quite aware of the relationship between you and Alastor, and frankly, no one cared. Most of them regressed with each other anyway.
Alastor’s smile deterred, but stayed nonetheless. His antlers grew, red clocks forming in his eyes. You whimpered a little, backing away. You hated it when Papa was mad.
The deer sensed your panic, slamming the door and turning, retaining his much less malicious grin. “Terribly sorry if I frightened you, my love. Everything’s alright, as always! Now, be a dear and wait for a moment while Papa goes to attend to some…business?” He asked, walking over.
Your lower lip trembled. You didn’t want him to leave, not now! You wanted him to stay and hold you and keep caring for you! “No.” You whimpered, hugging his waist.
“Oh, sweetheart.” He cooed, sitting down and letting you crawl your way into his lap. “I would love to take you with me, it’d be oh so much fun! But I’m afraid you wouldn’t enjoy this.” He said, petting your hair. You shook your head, gripping his waist.
He let out a small sigh, a soft look on his face now. He didn’t want to scare you, Satan no. But at the same time, it didn’t seem like you’d be letting go anytime soon.
“Alright then. But you will close your eyes at least. I can’t have my favorite little doll getting scared, now can I?” He asked in his signature radio voice. You looked up at him, a big smile on your face as you nodded.
“Wonderful! Now, let’s grab this,” He said, taking your pacifier from the side table and popping it in your mouth with a kiss to your nose. “And off we go! This shall be fun, won’t it? Bonding time!” He said, standing and carrying you off.
——————————————————————————————————
You giggled as Alastor locked the door to his ‘special room’ for his ‘new friends’ who need to be ‘taught a lesson’. At least, that was what you were told. You weren’t really allowed in there.
“Now, wasn’t that just lovely? Oh, the joy! So much fun, isn’t it my darling?” He asked, lifting you right back up and doing a little twirl. You laughed wildly, nodding.
The radio demon’s smile widened at that, taking you back to your room. He was glad you didn’t actually see anything that may have scared you. Sure, it would’ve been funny to see Husk or Vaggie fearful of him, but not you. Never you.
In fact, the whole fight had been short. It was just some old drunk imp from wrath complaining about the hotel. Saying it was ‘queer’ and ‘a fucking joke’.
Alastor detested people like that. He was cruel, merciless most of the time. But only a true monster would judge people on things like that. Sexuality, appearance, religion.
Nevertheless, Alastor would make sure that imp got what he deserved. However, he’d make sure the imp would wait in agony, fearing what would happen.
Then Alastor would do something much, much worse.
The demon was pulled from his sinister thoughts, by you grabbing onto his nose. “Handsy, are you?” He said, taking your hand off his face with a small chuckle. He normally didn’t like touch, but you were alright in that regard.
“Papa…” You yawned, leaning on his shoulder more. “Tired too, I see.” He said, gently situating you and opening the door with his power. “Perhaps a nice nap would do you some good, my fawn.” He said, shutting the door.
“Noooo!” You whined, squirming and clinging to him. “Oh, yes my love. I think a nap would be perfect for right about now.” Alastor said, setting his cane on the bed and laying you down.
You were already in pajamas, but a pull up would be ideal. Alastor didn’t really know how effective the controls were when you were this little. You whined as he grabbed one, snapping his fingers and letting the padding go directly onto you.
You had no idea how he did that, really. “Papa,” You whined through your pacifier, reaching for him. “What, my darling? What troubles my precious little one?” He asked, scooping you up and holding you close.
You shrugged, holding him tight. “Don’t go.” You said, sniffling. “Why, my love,” He said with a small, playful gasp. “I would never dream of it! You are far too interesting. Far too exquisite. I could never leave someone I’ve come to love so much.” He said, running a hand through your hair.
You sniffled again, letting him wipe one away. “No tears, sweetheart. You’re quite alright. Now, let’s relax and enjoy some sounds.” He said. You perked up at that.
“And no, not that noisy box that you find so entertaining.” He said, turning on the radio and letting jazz enter the room. You pouted a little at that, but stayed quiet. Alastor never let you watch TV when little.
The radio demon then managed to conjure up a rocking chair, taking a seat and draping a blanket over you. “Sleep, my dear. I shall be right here the second you open those darling little eyes.” He said, kissing your head softly.
You nodded, drifting off with your cheek against his coat and a pacifier bobbing in your mouth.
Ok, didn’t realize how much I love Al. Btw, that gif is how he looks at his little
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totalswag · 11 months
Text
still mine — RAFE CAMERON
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authors note i would be so down to party with rafe (besides the coke) writing fics about parties is fun because i can put in sfuff i’ve either seen or experienced at the parties i’ve gone too. this is really long so be prepared. feedback is always appreciated <3
summary topper is throwing a party at his house one weekend invites you and your two best friends. you see someone staring at you from a distance which happens to be rafe cameron. the two of you have history together and hadn’t seen each other for two months. what happens when you finally see each other.
warnings drinking, smoking, kissing, swear words, implied smut at the end
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Considering it's the weekend, there will be a party tonight. Tonight will be Topper Thorton's party. Everyone comes to his parties; once word gets out, you can bet they'll be full. His parents are on the main island for the weekend, so he's taking advantage.
Every weekend, there are parties on the Outer Banks. Taking advantage of being plastered and having the party shut down by the cops because the neighbors complained about the noise.
You were walking out the door to your car when you felt your phone buzz in your purse. Topper texted you about his party and wanted you to come if you didn’t have anything later. Of course you said you would come and get drunk.
When you got into work, you went in the back to put your personal stuff in your locker, then clocked in. You work at the local shoe store in town that’s very popular. Your two best friends, Sophie and Aubrey work with you too.
You met Aubrey and Sophie in English freshman year of high school. Sat in the same row the whole year and everyday you three joked and talked about the craziest things. Your friendship grew and grew.
The three of you were in the back organizing the shoe boxes before the store opened. They told you about the party before you could tell them.
“I was gonna tell you guys but you beat me to it” you laughed, putting the shoe’s in the box.
“You know how fast word spreads here, Y/N.” Aubrey states, leaning over you on the stool, putting a shoe box in the open space.
“Yeah, you got a point there” you place both hands on your hip, backing up.
“Plus we get to have fun tonight” Sophie states.
You three laugh in agreement and get back to work.
Eight hours later, the three of you were getting ready at your house. The party doesn't start until ten thirty, giving you plenty of time to prepare for the long night ahead. Aubrey and Sophie only came to your place because you live five houses down from Topper.
While you three did your makeup in the bathroom, your outfits were put out on the bed. Tonight, you're wearing a black crop top tee with gray loose cargo pants that show off your beautiful curls, which you've curled with gold jewelry to make your outfit pop.
Sophie brought buzz balls from the local liquor store to prepare. Usually, one of you will buy drinks before the party and then drink more at the party. You jugged the buzz balls together after changing into your outfits.
“Alright, let’s get fucked up tonight” you exclaimed with a smile.
When you walked up the street to Toppers, loud music from the inside of the house could be heard from outside. There was a large group of girls pulling up at the same time– you girls have never seen them before. It sounded like water splashing from the pool in the backyard.
Your nose was immediately filled with the smell of weed. Music filled the entire place, and you had to talk-yell to be heard. People passing around bottles and then pouring them into their mouths.
The girls nodded and followed closely behind you as you said, "Let's find drinks in the kitchen."
A broad range of drinks were available in the kitchen's fridge and on the counter. With Aubrey and Sophie joining you in getting your second drink of the night, you three were prepared to get shitfaced.
The sound of drunk Topper's voice saying, "Well well, look who finally arrived at the party" comes from behind you. He is shirtless, his arms are open, and he is holding a drink in his left hand.
It doesn't surprise you that Topper is already drunk at his own party because it has happened frequently before.
“Drunk already?” While hugging him, you laughed.
He nods slowly, "yeah, I am, but I'll be fine by the end of the night, trust me," he smiles with his teeth, aware that he is lying to himself but plays it off.
"Whatever you say, Topper," Aubrey replies as she walks by him, touching his shoulder and pointing to the dance floor.
"We'll see you around, Topper," you remark as you walk out of the kitchen.
When you walk by the back door that leads to the balcony, you can sense someone looking at you. Your gut wants you to double-check before it's too late. You can't tell who it is because of all the people surrounding you.
“Who are you looking at?" Aubrey asked, puzzled, while glancing in the same direction as you.
"I think that's Rafe staring at you," she says bluntly.
"This can't be happening to me," you mutter as you brush your fingers through your hair.
Rafe Cameron and you have a history together. Last summer, you met at a Halloween party and that was the first time you met officially. You guys hung out with friends a couple times after hooking up here and there. You last spoke with him two months ago, following an altercation he sparked about this guy flirting and touching you at this party.
You were obviously upset with Rafe for what he did to the poor guy, he meant no harm. You decided to end hooking up with Rafe because you didn’t want this fighting guys continuing. There’s times where you think of him or see his posts on social media, he looks really good.
"Hey, don't think about him. "We came here to have some fun and possibly not remember this night in the morning," Sophie said, assuring you.
"You're right, let's go party," you move your body to shake off the negativity.
It's been an hour and all you can think about is how much fun you're having. To the beat of the music, bodies dance up on each other. With the weed and alcohol in your system, your body feels like it's on cloud nine.
One of your friends brought his weed to the party and asked if you three wanted to have a little smoke sesh. Of course you all said yes.
You looked over your shoulder and saw Aubrey and Sophie dancing on these guys; they seemed to be having a good time. On the other hand, you were having fun in your own world.
When the song changed, you could feel your hips swaying to the beat of the music. Aubrey and Sophie, who were still with the boys, encouraged you and made you grin.
Everyone in the room appeared to be enjoying themselves. You were amazed that the cops hadn't yet arrived at the house. When parties are thrown, it is common for neighbors to call the cops, but as the parties kept coming back they gave up.
"I'm going to get another drink; I'll be right back," you say to the girls. They tell you to be careful.
You pushed your way past the mob to the balcony, where there were cold drinks. Humming to the sound of music playing from inside. When you stroll past a couple girls you remember from school, they smile and wave.
You rummaged through the Truly's, Mike's, and Smirnoff's in the cooler in hopes to find one that would catch your eye. You made the decision to choose Smirnoff.
When Kelce notices you looking in the cooler, he calls you over to the group who are already seated. Kelce stands up from his chair to hug you.
"Y/N, how are you doing?" He asks. You haven't seen Kelce in a while, but he always treats you well when you talk with him.
"I've been busy with work and apartment search. How about you? You respond openly before taking a sip of your drink.
“How's it going? And juggling work and school," he chuckles, shaking his head.
You shrug your shoulders and say, "Honestly not that easy, but I think I found a place I'm thinking of applying at."
The conversation went on for another ten minutes and you excused yourself from the group and went back inside. The whole time you were wondering where Rafe was because he’s usually outside with Kelce or Topper.
You walk through the crowded area as you enter the loud house. You ran into a strong chest by accident, and they smelled great. It turned out to be Rafe Cameron, who is already staring down at you as your eyes wander up.
Your jaw dropped in your drunken state.
He looked so good in his gray pants with a plain black t-shirt with his gold chain that fits perfectly around his neck. He changed his hair, it looks really good.
"Long time no see, Y/N," he says bluntly, grinning as he slowly places his hands on your waist, pulling your body closer to him. You can smell the mixture of cologne, weed and alcohol on him too.
"Hi Rafe," is all you could say as you looked down at his hands on your hips, slightly blushing at his hand placement but attempting to cover up your redness.
He chuckles.
“You look beautiful,” he compliments.
“Thank you, you don't look bad yourself, Cameron” you remark.
For a few moments, you two have a small conversation. As he opens his mouth, you take a long sip of your drink, knowing in your gut that he's going to say something interesting.
“I’m sorry about what happened. I should’ve never acted the way I did” Rafe says with an apologetic look.
You bite your bottom lip, nodding your head, trying to process what he said in your drunk state. You accept that he is apologizing but he could be talking out of his ass as you two speak honestly. Won't forget what he did though. You felt too drunk to be talking to him about this right now too.
"I appreciate your apology, but as you can see, I'm drunk, like really drunk, so talk to me in a few days about this," you pat his chest with your right palm, trying to walk away from him because you really didn’t feel like dealing with him tonight.
Rafe nods, "Wanna dance though?" He leans down and whispers into your ear.
Chills run down your spine by the way he whispers. You make eye contact with him, nodding in approval.
You hate that he still has that effect on you no matter what he does or says.
He leads you into the dance floor, turning your body so your back is against his front and running his hands down your sides towards your hips. You lean back into his chest, your hips swaying to the beat of the music.
When Sophia and Aubrey hear a few guys chanting Rafe's name on the dance floor, they quickly turn their heads, assuming you're with him.
The tension between Rafe and you grows quickly. As you continue dancing, you can’t help but grin at the fact you two have each other wrapped around both your fingers. His firm grip on your hips don’t leave your body, his lips attached themselves to your neck, leaving soft kisses.
You know you shouldn't be doing this but in your drunken state, you want to do this.
“Let’s go somewhere else, yeah?” Rafe whispers.
You stop your movements, turning around facing him, confused but curious at the request.
He sighs, “up there” pointing up at the ceiling, indicating a room.
Rolling your eyes, agreeing.
You look over your shoulder, scanning the room for Sohpie and Aubrey who are nowhere to be found. You start to worry, you go to the group chat but they text you saying they’ll wait for you and be with the guys they met.
You walk in front of Rafe till you find the guest room.
The room was dark.
You sat on the edge of the bed, hands on your lap, as Rafe turned on the lamp on the nightstand next to the bed.
Rafe leans in front of you, his hands on your now-partially separated thighs. You glance up with doe eyes, anticipating his next move. He can't help but notice your plumped lips and then your eyes as he realizes what game you're about to play with him.
The game is simple: you tease him by giving him doe eyes, tilting your head to the side, and saying things that make him wonder if you're serious about what's going to happen. You like to add sarcastic comments here and there. Usually, he fails and you win.
"You look so fuckin' hot right now," he exhales, "you know you're killing me, Y/N."
"You think I'm hot?" "Am I on fire or what?" You make a sarcastic remark.
"You think this is funny now, huh?" He hates it when you make sarcastic remarks to him.
You don't give a damn. So you keep going.
"I know, I know, I'm quite the jokester," you say, smirking and biting your lower lip.
Rafe doesn't want you to win, but he knows you will regardless. He knew there was something about you that had him hooked the moment he laid eyes on you. He realizes what he did was wrong, and the two months of not communicating or seeing you destroyed him.
“You wanna keep it up with the sarcastic jokes and laugh?” His voice is stern, almost as if he was ready to pin your hands over your head and take you there.
"And what if I want to keep it going?" You can feel his body tense up as you drag your hand below his t-shirt and play with his lower stomach.
"Oh, I think you know what's about to happen," he says before he smashes your lips together, catching you off guard.
Before you know it, clothes taken off, touching, heavy breathing and moans filled the guest room.
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mydearesthrry · 11 months
Text
A Compilation of Y/nrry on Stage - h.s.
a/n: self indulgent, once again. been watching a couple of old 1d concert vids lately and this just came to me like i think i wrote all of this in about 20 mins? enjoyyyyyyy
🎀 warnings/cw: nothing, fluff, cursing?
🐇 pairing: 1dbandmember!yreader x fratboyera!harry
💐 wc: 1.2k
summary: 3 moments during the take me home tour where ynrry shined through on stage.
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Y/N could sense mischief from a mile away. From the second the fans screamed to looking over at where they were pointing, she knew she was fucked. Clad in a light pink shirt and crop top that only showed an inch about her torso, she tried to run away from Louis but the stilettos on her feet gave her no opportunity to. 
“Louis! Louis stop, don’t!” Her pleading seemingly wasn’t enough because, within a blink of an eye, she was drenched in cold water. The two of them immediately knew what this meant. 
It meant war. And she was determined to get all of her bandmates on her side to defeat Louis. 
At first, she tried running after him, but when she realized it was no use since he was so fast and she was in heels, she called Harry over and immediately told him to turn around and crouch to help her. Harry, who had seen the entire interaction, was immediately down and got down without question. She hopped up on his back, motioning at Zayn for him to throw her a water bottle, Harry immediately started running toward Harry. 
As he ran, her in-ear monitors made her remember that she was to sing soon, and she raised her mic to her lips, singing softly. “And if we get together, yeah get together, don’t let the pictures leave your phone! Do you guys think I can beat Louis?” She screamed, following her lyrics, giggling at the loud cheers from the crowd. Harry continued running, and Y/N looked down to see that Niall and Liam were running with them, water bottles in their hands as well. 
Louis glanced over his shoulder and saw them running after him, pulling a face and running away faster. Unfortunately, he was too slow, and they all eventually caught up to him. Zayn too, who was right behind him and making sure he didn’t run away. Liam and Niall caught Louis by his arms, holding him still so their best friend could get her revenge. Harry stalked over to them and set her down, Y/N still singing as she had Harry crack open her bottles. Giggles instead of melodies filled the stadium speakers as she poured the water over his head. The rest of the boys handed her their water, and she continued to pour water on Louis. 
“Paybacks a bitch, Tommo.” She grinned, grabbing him by the back of his neck and into a hug, pushing him away when their cue came in to start doing the rowing dance move. They all stood in a staggered line, laughing loudly while they danced. 
Everyone else flared away, but Harry stayed. He bent down, mouth close to her ear as he popped out her in-ear, and very softly, whispered, “Good job on your victory, Princess.”
The band sat in their respective spots, the soft guitar for Summer Love filtering through the air. In front of Harry, a little off to the side was Y/N, who had the brightest gleam in her eyes, admiring the crowd. It was during songs like these that she allowed herself to bask in the feeling of fame, one that often consumed and overwhelmed her. She giggled when she waved at a few fans and they started screaming and crying in response to her. She glanced over her shoulder to see if Harry had seen that, and smiled wider when she saw he already had a grin on his face. 
Raising the mic to his lips, he followed Zayn’s lyrics, and since Y/N was already looking over at him, she twisted on her bottom, being careful of her skirt. Her eyes traced all of Harry’s features, them being nearly enhanced due to the bright spotlights on him. Finishing his part of the first verse, his eyes flicked back to her, nose scrunching cutely. She blew a playful kiss back, laughing when his cheeks became overtaken by a pinkish hue. Jumping down from her spot, she walked over to the back of the stage to retrieve her phone, before jogging back to her spot, confusing Harry when she passed it and instead beelined for him. 
Plopping down next to him, she swiped on her phone until she got to the camera app, holding it up to be level with their faces. They pulled a couple of funny faces before she tossed her phone over to Liam and Niall to the right of her, who grabbed it with ease. They started snapping pictures too, Liam turning to face his back to the crowd, taking a selfie with them too. The mic was on her lips, and they motioned her to catch it, but she shook her head no. 
They tossed the phone back to her anyway, but she missed the catch and clenched her eyes shut, only for them to snap open again when she felt two taps on her thighs. Opening her eyes, she saw Harry grinning at her with a shit-eating grin, holding her phone in his hand. 
She rolled her eyes, grabbing it from him and unlocking it again. She pulled up her camera roll app, looking at the pictures of her and Harry. She smiled and set one of the funnier ones as her home screen background. She turned her phone to Harry, and he grinned at her, trying to subtly move his arm behind her back to rub it. Turning to him, she held up a hand to block the crowd from seeing what she was whispering into his ear. 
The crowd screamed when they saw this, but they would never know that the words she whispered into his ear were ‘I love you’.
 As Niall talked to the crowd, Y/N and Harry pulled their in-ears out of their ears to talk to each other, something that was extremely common at their concerts. 
“What d’you wanna order from the hotel when we get back? ‘M starving and I miss you. I feel like I’ve not seen you all day.” Harry said— shouted, knowing she could barely hear over the volume of the crowd. She turned around, shrugging her shoulders. Harry rolled his eyes, and she tiptoed, the heels on her feet not being enough to be able to reach his ears. 
“I‘ve been craving pizza since this morning, maybe that if they have it. We can cuddle when we get back to the hotel, but you have to shower, you’re all sweaty. As for the pizza,” She questioned in his ear. “I’m not sure what toppings yet, but maybe we can agree on some?” 
He nodded, giving a thumbs up, “Wanna join me in the shower?” She looked at him with an annoyed expression, but he had a boyish grin on his face.”‘M putting olives on the pizza.” 
“Oh, absolutely not, are you serious? Harry, that’s disgusting.” She pulled a face of disgust, putting her hand on his face to push him away. He had the biggest look of offense on his face, and she giggled. He didn’t get far from her push, only about 1 foot away. She laughed when she heard him scream ‘Say sorry!’, and she shook her head no. 
“You know I hate olives! I’m picking all of them off and giving them to you.” She grinned back, and he rolled his eyes again, but with the look he gave her, it was obvious that he would do anything for her.
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