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toxicanonymity · 7 months

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EVERY INCH 3.

4.4k words, m!ghostface x f!reader

Every inch 🔪 Every inch 2

SUMMARY: Ghostface watches you and calls you. He gets bored, and one of your friends gets killed. You try to swear ghostface off, but he stalks you. You want revenge. A/N: THANK YOU for all the love. Masked Ghostface, inspired by canon gfs & night walks. HC who you want. Enough recap in the first paragraph to read as a one shot. WARNINGS: I8+ noncon p in v, exhibitionism, voyeurism, gun play, choking, degradation, slut shaming, drugs, creampie, noncon breeding, phone sex, masturbation, knife play, a modicum of canon-typical plot/violence. Gf calls himself daddy. DEAD DOVE. NO USE OF Y/N. Starts in GHOSTFACE POV.

You aren't doing yourself any favors by thinking about him every time you get off. You should get on tinder. Go on another date. Get a boyfriend. But there's too much now. You've got a video of him whimpering with his cock out after you had your way with him, and a picture of him with cum all over his robe a minute later. And then there's the mirror pic he took in your bathroom. He's behind you, holding you naked in front of him. There's a look of arousal on your face, and you must be so ashamed, but you keep coming back to look at it every night. . .and you're not the only one.

Ghostface air dropped it to himself right after he took the pic. You should really be more careful with your settings. And your blinds, and your curtains. But you don't wanna be more careful, do you? You've got everything the cops could need to put him away. You even had his DNA, and you kept it to yourself. Allll to yourself. And you’d like to have more of it, wouldn't you? It's fascinating, really, how bad you want his cock.

You haven't heard from him in weeks, but he still comes by every once in a while. He sees your neighbor check in on you, and you keep looking at the time on your apple watch until he leaves. He sees you try on your slutty Halloween costumes– your backside looks best in that tight ass nurse dress, but god damn, your tits in that pleather. What a pretty pussy you are. Meow. He sees you get dressed for bed, and just in time.

You check your phone and glance out your bedroom window before you take out your vibrator. Ghostface takes out his cock and lifts his mask to spit on it. This is his season, you know. You must think about him all the time. Every time you see one of those phony Stab costumes. Every time you carve a pumpkin. He lets you get a head start building to your climax. God damn, you want that cock, and you do an awful job hiding it when you see the call from a restricted number. You look at your phone, biting your lip, and let it ring for a few seconds before you wet your lips and answer it. But you don't say anything. Ohh, playin’ hard to get, are ya?

Ghostface admires the stiffness of his cock in his hand and strokes it while he watches you try not to speak first. It's quite the game of chicken–at least a full minute of silence. He breathes heavier as he strokes himself, and then he hears the buzz of your toy.

"Mmm, good kitty."

"What do you want?" Your breathing is heavy, too.

"Wanna know how bad ya want this cock."

"Is your cock all you think about?"

He breathes a laugh. "That'd make two of us, wouldn't it?"

You scoff, still touching yourself, teasing your clit with your vibrator.

"Yeah that's it," he pants, and you arch your back. "Come for daddy." You come so fast it's pitiful.

You're easy. Too easy. He's getting bored.

You're a bad, bad girl, and he wants to find out how bad. You know, he's never much cared for your "friend" Marla. He suspects you don't either, based on the way you tense at her hug in the bookstore.

—-----you-------

A DILF cop comes by your house. Must be new to the force since you've never seen him. You're used to them checking on you. The COP asks if he can come in, probably trying to be thorough, you think. But he asks you to take a seat, and he sits down next to you on your sofa. When he has trouble meeting your eyes, your pulse quickens.

He knows. He must know somehow. He knows you're a sick fuck who has phone sex with ghostface and gets off to his dick pics every night. Maybe he even knows you fucked him. He might even know you forced him. You're blanking on excuses if they find the photos in your phone. The cop leans forward and his biceps strain the short sleeves of his tan uniform. He wrings his large, veiny hands as he turns his head to look at you. Finally, his big brown eyes meet your gaze, and he tells you, "He's back. Got a crime scene down the block"

The relief lasts about ten seconds, and then you don't have to feign your horror. The blood rushes from your head to your pounding heart. You foolishly thought his killing days might be behind him.

"Officer. . ."

"Call me Javi."

"How do you know it's him, Javi?" You challenge him.

"You really wanna know?" He raises his eyebrows at you.

"It's him, sweetheart." He puts a big, warm hand on your upper back, then slides it up to squeeze your shoulder. "Got someone who can stay with ya?"

You take a few seconds to answer, then whisper, “yeah.”

"Well, if not . . . " he sighs and leans way back on the sofa to reach into his uniform pants for his wallet. "Got a pen?"

He writes his personal number on a business card and leaves it with you. As you let him out the front door, sirens are wailing.

Later, you see the crime scene online. Marla isn't just dead, she's stabbed, slit, and bled dry. The water runs red in the fountain you pass every day on the way out of your neighborhood. A needed reminder of the sicko you’re dealing with.

Over the next few days, you delete the ghostface photos and the video. You get a call from a restricted number and don’t answer it. You get a text from an unsaved number: don’t tell me you thought I changed.

You delete it. When you’re leaving the neighborhood one day, you spot Javi in an unmarked car. When you get to your destination, you text him “why are you following me?”

Like a boomer, he calls you instead of texting back. You don’t answer. Then he replies, “Why don’t you have company? You shouldn’t be alone.”

You send back, “If I have company, will you leave me alone?”

“I can give you some space, sure. But I have a job to do.”

“And what’s that?”

“Keeping you safe.”

—--

You’re not going to let ghostface control your life. You don’t know what would happen if you ran into him now, and you try not to think about it, although you do find yourself going into the trash folder on your phone to look at what you deleted. You make plans to go out with friends. It’s the first weekend of October, and there’s a huge Halloween festival. You put on your nurse costume.

An hour before your friends arrive, your doorbell rings. You look at your app and it’s Javi. Well, this is awkward, you think as you finish pulling up your black, thigh-high fishnets. You answer the door and let Javi in, trying not to let your eyes linger on the way his arms stretch his sleeves. You decline to sit down.

“Look, if you’re gonna go out, you should carry this,” he says, then looks you up and down and his gaze lingers on your cleavage. You clear your throat. He swallows and gives a subtle smile like yeah so what? “Gonna wear a purse?” he asks.

“Wasn’t planning on it.” You roll your eyes.

You reluctantly change into the cat costume and wear a bat purse. You go out with your friends and everyone gets way too drunk. Your friend Sam gets in an altercation after a frat party, and your other friends have to restrain her and walk her home. You’re tired and you don’t want to deal with it. You insist you’ll be fine since you’re armed. You decide to walk a couple blocks before you order your ride home so you can wait somewhere with more people around.

—--ghostface—-

You filthy little slut. Are you enjoying yourself? Ignoring him, playing hard to get, acting like you’re not flattered, then teasing him, prancing around Woodsboro looking like a handjob costs $20. Walking alone through an alley – you really are a dumb bitch, aren’t you?

Ghostface knows where you’re headed. He’s seen you take this route before, so he gets ahead of you and waits. He’s vaping in the shadows behind a fire escape in the alley. When he hears the click of your slutty boots, he hits send: a dark alley? lmao. He hears the ding on your phone and the click of your heels slows down right before you reach the fire escape. no point running, he sends. Then he brings the vape pen under his mask and sucks in a mouth full of smoke, and your phone illuminates your face and your eyes widen.

—--you—--

The alley smells like weed. You’re reading the texts when ghostace appears from behind the fire escape, coming at you with his robe flowing behind him. He only has one glove on. His gloved hand grabs your throat and he pins you to the wall. You choke and gasp for air. He tilts his mask and a small amount of smoke billows out of the dark mesh at the top of his long, black mouth. He eases up on your throat only to move his hand to your jaw and tighten his grip, squeezing your cheeks to keep your mouth open as the smoke billows thicker and closer. His mask is only an inch from your mouth. You close your eyes and breathe in, and as he releases the smoke into your mouth, your clit throbs. You've got butterflies in your chest, being close to him again. You cough.

"Good girl," he says as he relaxes his grip on your jaw. Then his knee nudges your purse out of the way and wedges your thighs open.

“Bet ya miss me more than Marla, don’t ya?”

If only he wasn’t right. There’s a fire burning in the pit of your stomach just being close to him. But Javi will probably be here any minute, and you need to put up a fight so they won't be onto you. You abruptly knee ghostface in the groin. He grunts and falls backward only slightly.

"Bad kitty." He takes you by the throat again as you try to fight back. “Bad, bad girl.” He hasn't brandished his knife, but you know he has it. You can't get your gun out quickly enough. You look at your phone and it flies out of your hand as Ghostface grabs your wrist.

He lets go of you and picks your phone up off the ground, then walks away, robe trailing behind him as he disappears into the night.

You try to follow him, but he loses you. The audacity–he shotguns you, gets you all riled up, takes your phone, and leaves you, just assuming you won’t do anything about it. Assuming you’ll chase him. You think about the fountain scene. You think about him leaving you. Rage eclipses your desire. If you see him, you might actually shoot him. Now all you have is your metro card to get home, and luckily you’re close enough to the train station.

–-

Scattered groups of drunk college students stumble around, bicker, and laugh.

The train doors are open and you jog to make it in time, just barely squeezing in before the door closes behind you. The car is full, but not packed. A Freddy Kruger makes room for you, and you stand with your hand braced on the pole. You get a message on your apple watch, meaning ghostface must be in bluetooth distance.

always wanted to see you on the pole.

You look behind you, and there he is, sitting at the back of the car. You should run, but you’re gonna get your phone back at the very least. There’s too much damage he could do with what’s on it. As the passengers finish unloading, you discreetly open your purse and put your hand on your gun, then set your sights on ghostface, who’s manspreading and sitting back. The only other company in the back of the train car is a Michael Myers who looks to be passed out drunk.

You take out the gun and turn the safety off as you approach ghostface in your slutty cat costume. He pulls back his head and cowers in an exaggerated oh, i’m scared move. He stays quiet, for once.

“My phone,” you tell him.

He looks around, pretending like he has no idea what you’re talking about.

“Now,” you order and put your finger on the trigger. He takes a phone out of his pocket, but it’s not yours.

“What the hell’s wrong with you,” you ask. The train jolts and you’re propelled onto him. You brace yourself with your free hand on his strong shoulder, and when you feel his hard muscle, butterflies swarm to your core. If he isn’t going to offer up your phone, you’ll have to find it yourself. You press the muzzle of the gun into his neck, through the fabric of his mask. He freezes. You reach under his robe and pat him down, finding nothing in the front pockets of his jeans. You should check his back pockets, but first you grab his crotch while you’re at it and laugh when he’s semi-hard.

“Cock’s the only thing you’re good for, and this is what you’ve got for me?” His mask tilts down, watching you grope him. You savor the feeling of control. “Worthless,” you spit. Desire bubbles between your thighs as you feel him harden in your grip. Fuck it, you’re gonna take him one last time. You don’t want the last memory of all this to be him dominating you in your bathroom. You wanna go out on top. You fumble with his button and zipper with your free hand, then command, “Take it out.”

He tilts his mask at you, then looks behind you as though seeing who’s around.

“No one’s looking,” you mutter. “Stop fucking around.” You hold the gun to his neck and he urgently takes his hard cock out. You reach down for it. It’s thick and warm in your hand. “Don’t feel half as big as ya look on camera,” you tell him. “Pretty sad.” You spit in your hand and reach for his cock again. “So desperate for my attention,” you mock him. “You’ll do anything, wont ya?”

This is fine, you tell yourself, You’ll tell the cops he forced you, and then you’ll even have his DNA, and they can catch him, and this can all be over. . .after one last ride.

You put your knees on the seat on either side of him. You hover over his cock and use your free hand to run the head through your dripping folds, then you sink onto him and bottom out with ease. His cock twitches against your walls, and a shiver races down your spine. Your nipples harden, visible even through your pleather top. The sheer arousal pisses you off. He feels too good. A man like this doesn't deserve to be so good at dicking you down, without even trying. Without doing anything. You move up and down him, and he does exactly nothing. He knows it gets you off. You hate how full he makes you feel. You resent the incomparable pleasure that will linger in your mind, in your whole body, for days. Maybe forever.

He moans soft enough that the voice changer doesn't pick it up. You wince at the sound of his humanity.

Something comes over you. “Shut the fuck up,” you tell him as you bring yourself down on his cock again. . “I don't wanna hear your voice." You raise yourself up. "I don’t wanna know who you are." You roll your hips into him. "I don’t fucking care. I don’t care about you at all," you bite, fucking yourself on his cock, dripping wetter and wetter. You keep degrading him as you fuck him. "You’re nothing to me." In your lower belly, a climax is building. "You’re a faceless cock. Always have been.” He sits motionless as you ride him harder. Maybe it was the weed, but you can’t get enough.

When the train reaches the next stop, you tug down your dress as much as you can and sit still on his cock. You hide the gun between your bodies.

Your watch dings with a notification–an unsaved number.

how's the 🍆

A shadow eclipses you from behind, and you hear the snap of a picture. Your face goes ice cold.

"Oh you're a reeeeeal bad girl, aren't ya?" The real ghostface says behind you. All the hair on your body stands up, and your heart pounds as you look at the costume in front of you. The lack of gloves, the quality of fabric, the jeans under it. The cock of a stranger twitches inside you and the gun shakes in your hand. "What the fuck," you mutter. You start to get off the man, but the real ghostface slams you back down on him.

"Oh don't stop now, kitty. "

He holds you down on the man's cock. "Lovin’ this Halloween special. sure he is, too. Ain't ya, buddy?"

"What the hell’s goin' on," the man mutters in a regular voice.

You’re about to berate the man for deceiving you. "You let me," then you feel the heavy weight of the gun in your hand and stop short, shame rushing into every blood vessel of your body.

"Better finish what ya started," the real Ghostface says. "A happy customer won't snitch, right brother?"

When you don't move, Ghostface says, "god damnit," then squats down and wraps his arm around you. "Do I have to do everything?" He lifts you up a little, so the man's cock almost falls out, then drops you back down. He lifts you up and down the man's hard cock, and it's horrifically erotic having Ghostface fuck you on another man's dick. The real Ghostface cock is hard against your back.

Ghostface adjusts his grip and grabs a tit as he forces you up and down. The man’s Stab mask tilts down, watching his cock disappear into you again and again. Your lips part, and a moan slips out.

"Oh, you filthy, filthy girl," Ghostface chides.

"Shut up," you snap as Ghostface sheaths the man’s cock with you again.

"Gonna cum for him, pumpkin? Milk his cock?"

No, God no, this random guy can't cum inside you. Your body stiffens and you shake your head no.

"Oh, c'mon, kitty."

"No," you whimper.

Ghostface sighs in exasperation and one of his arms leaves your torso for a moment. Then he points his knife at the man you're riding. "Ten seconds."

Ghostface holds the knife to your throat as he keeps manhandling you on the guy's cock, counting down, "ten," he lifts and lowers you, "nine," stuffing you with the man's cock, "eight," and he's only at "seven," when the man flattens his back and arms against the subway seats and shudders as he lifts his hips into you. Ghostface forces you down, and you cry, "no," drowned out by the man's groan as he cums. You moan at his pulsations. It's sick, disgustingly hot, getting pumped full of this stranger's cum on a subway car with Ghostface holding a knife to your throat. Your spine arches and you begin to convulse, milking the stranger’s cock just like Ghostface told you to.

"Hellll yeahhh." Ghostface gropes your tit. His cock twitches against your back. He addresses the stranger, "She's hot for a serial rapist, right?" as he lets your weight fully down onto the man. He lets you push yourself off the man, and ghostface holds you by your neck so you won't run. As the man's cock flops sloppily onto his open jeans, Ghostface tells him, "now get the fuck outta here." The man in the ghostface mask is still zipping up his pants when Ghostface adds, "this one needs a real big cock." Then Ghostface asks you, "don't ya, pumpkin?" And takes the man's seat.

The train comes to a stop and as the man scurries out of the subway car, he warns other riders not to board the car. He’s removing his mask as the train pulls away, but you don’t get to see him. Ghostface takes the man's seat and hikes up his robe, revealing his pj pants. He takes his cock out and manhandles you onto his lap. You hover. You're not about to hop on his dick, but let’s face it, you’re not gonna put up a fight, either. You're tired. You're confused. You're horny as hell. There must be something in that weed.

Out the window, everyone is staring as the train slowly pulls away.

Ghostface hikes your dress all the way up and stares between your legs with the stranger's cum seeping out of you.

"Look at this mess," he catches the cum with the flat of the knife, cool against your folds. He slowly drags the knife toward himself, then angles it up toward your mound. Then he takes the knife off you. He wraps his hand around your ass and the handle of the knife rests against your skin. “Now sit on daddy’s cock.”

He lifts you onto his cock. He hesitates with his tip notched at your entrance, and you twitch with need. Then he pulls you down, and his thick cock stretches you – a pleasant, easy stretch – as you sink onto him. He's bigger than the cock you just had.

"What's my favorite movie?" He asks, then begins to move you on his cock. He holds you still. You're dying for friction. "Strangers on a train," he answers for you, and you ignore him. "Hitchcock's overrated,” Ghostface says. “Now I've got my *own*.” Great, he took a video, too. This is bad for you, really bad, but all you can think about is the big, hard cock inside you. He's still not moving, and neither are you. Your clit is throbbing. You begin to rock your hips as the train slows down .

Ghostface slaps your ass with his bare hand. "Made for the screen, baby." His hips begin to move under you, finally. You close your eyes, feeling his thick shaft pump in and out of you, sliding with ease through the other man's cum. "Sure can take a cock." He feels so fucking good. Why did he have to kill again? Why can't he just fuck you? God his cock feels good. "Bet ya coulda taken us both," ghostface says and his cock twitches inside you. "Ohh, fuck." The train stops. He puts down his knife and takes the gun from you. "Yeah, this hole could take two, no problem." His crude words are making you throb more. You feel people watching from the train window, and your face is hot, but you can't get enough of this cock. "Maybe that's what this filthy cunt needs. Two cocks." Your walls twitch around him. "Ooohhh, like the sound'a that, don't ya?" You feel an orgasm building in your gut. "Hell yeah, dirty girl."

The train leaves the station again. “Maybe next time I’ll bring a friend.” he brings the gun to your face. He prods your cheek with the muzzle. Then nudges your lips open and you groan in protest.

"Give it a kiss, pumpkin'" You pull your head back and turn your cheek. Your heart is beating out of your chest. Your vision is blurry. Your body is dizzy with pleasure and adrenaline. Ghostface gives up on putting the gun in your mouth. He drags the cool metal down your face, around your neck, to your back, then keeps dragging it down. Then he slouches down in the seat and adjusts your angle on top of him, pulling you tighter against his chest.

His massive, ungloved hand lifts your ass cheeks out of the way and spreads you wide. He brings you upward, letting most of his cock out, then you feel the cool metal at your dripping entrance. He wedges the cold muzzle of the gun into your pussy right alongside his cock. "Yeah, take it, kitty."

You groan as he pulls you down on his cock and the gun. What has he done to you? Why is this so hot? "Yeah, knew ya could take two cocks." To your horror, you find your hips rocking. "Fuck yeah," he growls. The barrel of the gun is cool against the back wall of your cunt, and your hole is squeezing his cock tighter now. He wriggles the gun around in a circular motion against his cock. "Ohh yeah." The train speeds up. "Hold on tight," he warns. He begins to manhandle you on his cock and the gun. You're on the edge. Your asshole tightens and tension swells in your core.

"Fuck," you whisper.

He feels it. "Yeah, that's right." You hold your breath. "Cum for me, pumpkin, or I'll make you into pie." Your climax overtakes you and you wince as you clench around the gun and his cock.

"Goooood giirl," he says with your body jerking around his. "There's daddy's little slut." Wave after wave hits you and your cunt squeezes him and the gun. He holds you tighter against him and lifts you enough to slide the gun out, leaving your exhausted cunt looser around him. “Yeah, plenty’a room for two.” You're still having aftershocks. They're not fading, like another one could build. You reach for your clit. "Needy, needy cunt." You rub yourself and he rocks you on his cock until you cum again.

"Hell yeah," he moans when you clench around him. Then he erupts inside you with a groan. His cock pulses against your walls as his warm spend mixes with the other man's. "Yeahhh." His cum goes on and on. "Fuck, yeahh."

As soon as he's finished coming, he pulls you off his lap. He tucks his cock back in his PJs. The train rolls to a stop.

He pats your lower belly. “Won’t know who's the father," he chides, "but at least ya know who's daddy."

—

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

Now that you know what happens, it's a solid re-read. Especially when reader is degrading him 😭 lmk your thoughts when you come back to reread too, it's not weird lol.

THANK YOU FOR READING. If you want another one, reblogs make all the difference!!! I appreciate comments, too. 🖤🖤🖤 but reblogs get other people to read it which helps a lot, no matter how small your blog. It also affects the algorithm. If engagement is good, that helps guarantee a next one. If it "flops" compared to the first two, that's discouraging.

if you liked this smut, check out raider Joel meanwhile.

Also BTW gasolinerainbowpuddles is responsible for giving me the kink of degradation about unknown paternity starting with the fic liquid gold which is amazing.

#ghostface x reader #ghostface smut #ghostface x you #slasher smut #slasher fanfiction #cw noncon #tw noncon #night walks #ghostface #slasher fucker #billy loomis x reader #ethan landry x reader #toxicanonymity ☠️#mickey altieri #dead dove #danny johnson x reader #love2cuck #ghostface!joel miller #ghostface ☠️

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5sospenguinqueen · 16 days

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Team Betrayal | Red Bull! Reader x Platonic! Grid

Summary: Y/N Y/L/N races for Red Bull but when she's caught out drinking another brand, she enacts her revenge until the Grid outs her snitched.

Apologies but this is a female reader.

Warning: Bad writing. I'm not sure what this is but it was prompted between an energy drink dilemma I had the other day.

There is no timeline for this. Make it up.

Main Masterlist.

━━━━━━ ༻𖥸༺ ━━━━━━

Swiping away the sweat that ran down the back of her neck, Y/N grinned at the camera, drinking in the euphoric energy enveloping her on all sides.

"Thank you for joining us after such a long day." The interviewer beamed, pleased to have been able to catch the Red Bull racer before debrief started. "How're you feeling? You look absolutely drenched."

"Yes. Max thought he was funny tipping the entire can of Red Bull over my head. I'll wash my hair three times and still go home smelling of the stuff." Y/N joked, dabbing the drop of sticky liquid rolling down her forehead.

Pleased that the conversation had naturally developed down that path, the interviewer smirked at the camera before turning their attention back to you. "So, you've been driving for Red Bull for 2 years now? Is it safe to say you're also a big fan of the drink?"

She laughed nervously, unsure why such an odd question was being asked after a Grand Prix. Usually the media used this opportunity to ask how she felt about losing/her teammate winning. Again. "Who isn't?" Y/N joked.

Whipping out her phone, the interviewer (dressed in traitorous McLaren orange) thrust it in front of her face. The grin from Y/N's face instantly dropped as she squinted against the blinding sun. Disbelief painted her face.

"Where did you get that? That's actually me!"

"One of your fellow racers provided it earlier." The interviewer informed, tucking away the damning photo of Y/N drinking a can of Monster Energy, dressed in her Red Bull racing suit and attempting to hide her behaviour behind a laughing Lando Norris.

"Who?!"

"I'm afraid we're not at liberty to say. We promised confidentiality in favour of the photo," teased the interviewer.

"That's my face." Y/N's eyes darkened challengingly. She leaned into the microphone, staring down the camera. "In that case, those boys won't know a moment of peace until I get my answer."

She straightened just as soon after, smile flickering back into place as she heard her name being called. "Oops, I was meant to be in debrief a minute again. Thanks for talking to me. Catch you later!"

"Thank you for your time." The interviewer called after the retreating navy figure. She turned back to the camera. "Ladies and Gentleman, I think it's safe to say that Y/N Y/L/N is as ferocious off the track as she is on it. I don't know about you but I would not want to be a member of the Grid this evening."

━━━━━━ ༻𖥸༺ ━━━━━━

The interview went viral.

YourUserName this you? (She retweeted with a pic of Lando wearing a Monster Energy hat, a can of Red Bull in hand)

→ LandoNorris no.

User 1 not Lando deliberately lying about his own face

User 2 oh, no. Lando. What have you started?

User 3 not me checking my phone every 2 seconds to see if Y/N has posted after she vowed vengence.

→ Your User Name 👀👀

User 4 don't drag poor Maxie into this. He's always seen drinking Red Bull.

User 5 she never was good enough for the team, hope they drop her after this.

User 6 may as well just go to McLaren with how much time she spends with them.

OscarPiastri just a warning. I can hear her laughing evilly next door.

YourUserName so just to clear a few things up. I have never bought a Monster Energy in my life.

YourUse Name i am always supplied with them by people who are attempting to remain innocent in this scandal.

PierreGASLY yeah, well. My shoes are cleaner than yours so...

→ LandoNorris you sure showed her.

User 7 not the Grid coming for my girl only to end up fighting for their lives.

User 8 coming for his teammate

User 9 not the whole Grid teasing her for betraying Red Bull

User 10 always knew Max didn't like them. This just confirms

YourUserName not you too. You said you had my back

→ Max33Verstappen this is why you didn't get on the podium

Max33Verstappen not my babies?!

→ YourUserName i may not have a podium but I do have your cats.

→ Charles_Leclerc you're making this worse for yourself

→ YourUserName watch out or Leo's next

→ Charles_Leclerc *horrified gasp*

User 11 alex fighting for his innocence.

User 12 the Grid are feeding us tonight.

User 13 what's the odds that they're fighting for their lives in the gc?

User 14 bet they're compiling a list of times they gave her Monster

→ User 15 trying to figure out who might be next

User we found the snitch

User 2 anyone else see Red Bull lurking in the likes?

LandoNorris @ danielricciardo this is why she didn't respond

Max33Verstappen daniel's currently crying.

redbullracing christian said you have a meeting with PR tomorrow.

→ YourUserName crap.

User 3 can we take a moment to appreciate all the Grid content we got this evening?

→ User 4 and look at how quick Y/N's responses were. Boo was ready for them.

→ User 5 what are the odds they were all sitting next to their phones, terrified every time it buzzed

→ lilymhe can confirm.

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crookedteethed · 1 month

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BIG SHOT polaroid | e.m.

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem reader

Summary: In which you and Eddie have a picture book where you both store your sex pics. <3 💕

Warnings: 18+ Cursing, a little Smut (p in v), Oral (fem receiving), Praise kink, body worship(?), pet names, nudes

Word count: 1k

If you pushed past the mounds of dirty laundry intertwined with disposed candy bar wrappers and a few empty shoe boxes, underneath Eddie Munson's bed lies the picture book.

The picture book was your idea, but the pictures themselves were all Eddie's perverted idea.

"Lemme take a picture of you, yeah?" Eddie said, taking a break from his delicious never-ending assault on your clit. Your juices dripped down his chin, some droplets stringing the tips of his hair, his lips all red and puffy covered in slick, and his eyes a little crazed and tinted in admiration.

He kissed the supple plush of your thigh in a diagonal line; your hands stayed grazing his curls, body supine on the foam of Eddie's mattress. Eddie's lips make love to your thighs, to your tummy, from your breast to your neck, and eventually to your lips; where'd you gotten to taste yourself for the first time.

Eddie quotes Shakespeare. "Graze on my lips, and if those hills be dry. Stray lower, where the pleasant fountains lie." He says, glossy lips forming a smile.

"Lemme get a picture of you.” He asks again. “I want to savor my pretty girl in this moment," he says with that boyish smile and those adoring chocolate eyes.

Fuck, those eyes. Even if you were thinking of saying 'no' to Eddie, you simply couldn't. It was the way Eddie's eyes gazed at you every time you made contact. It was as if he was put into a dreamlike trance.

If Eddie had been a cartoon, his eyes and pupils would have turned heart-shaped.

You agreed to the picture, but just one.

Eddie sprung up from the bed, his naked pale body sprinting around the smallish trailer.

You hear a few thuds and ruffling coming from the next room. You imagine Eddie tearing his home apart to find his Polaroid camera.

When Eddie comes back, he returns holding a big-shot Polaroid. He says it was his mother's. He and Wayne don't use it often, so there should be enough film on it.

You try to sit up as Eddie crawls onto the bed, but he lightly pushes you back down, telling you you shouldn't have to move a finger, lie back, and be his muse.

You felt an uneasiness plummet in your stomach as you felt the cold lens of Eddie's mother polaroid aimed at your cunt; it was similar to the feeling you get when your doctor has to check beneath your folds for any signs of ovarian cysts or cancers at your yearly checkups.

And though Eddie had seen your bare cunt a multitude of times (just like your doctor), this particular time made your body shutter. Just as Eddie goes to snap the picture, he notices your sudden twitchiness.

"Hey," he says, palming the plum of your cheek. He lightly pecks your lips. "You trust me, right?"

You nodded, chewing on your bottom lip; of course, you trusted Eddie.

"Good." He nearly mumbles, eyes fixated on your glistening folds.

Eddie resume.

The Polaroid covers half of Eddie's face. With his right eye peeking through the eyepiece and his left eye squeezed tightly, Eddie aims the lens close to your cunt.

He places his thumb onto one of your folds and pulls back on the skin, snapping the picture in one snap. Seconds later, the blackened photo ejects from underneath the film shield.

With a few anticipated shakes from Eddie, the photo started to fade in, and you and Eddie stared at it with wide bug eyes and gaping mouths.

It wasn't the fact that Eddie could date back to this photo and jack off to it later that turned him on. Eddie was turned on because you let him do it; it turned him on even more that you trusted him to do it.

It turned you on because there was something obscure about seeing another aspect of your body, other than your face, on a Polaroid picture. In a way, you felt like you were Eddie's personal playboy bunny.

"Can I take another one?" Eddie asked in a daze, just as you went to ask him to take another, and then another, and then another, until you eventually ran out of film.

Taking pictures of you and Eddie's naked bodies would become almost like an addiction to both of you.

It became a ritualistic practice for you two before sex, grabbing the Polaroid (which now rested on Eddie's bedside table, along with packs of film) and taking turns snapping pictures of one another mid fuck.

Eddie would take the Polaroid from you and snap a picture of his cock plunging into your tight wet cunt; once he has his picture, then you'll take the Polaroid and snap a photo of your foot pressed against his pelvis, just above his happy trail. The cycle would go on and on until you were both covered in Polaroid pictures and cum.

It gets to a point where Eddie's bedside dresser, the current home for your photos, gets filled up, and you both have to resort to putting your photos in a picture book.

Making the picture book would be fun for both of you. You would sit on the trailer's living room floor, surrounded by glue, glitter, and markers; it's like a little arts and crafts project.

It'd be nostalgic for you and Eddie to return to your first photos all those months ago until now.

Eddie gets that gooey mushy feeling, getting wrapped up in the trust and intimacy of the photos--love, he thinks the feeling is called-- watching you watch a picture of yourself with a mouthful of his cock, and scrapbooking secret photos preserved for just his and your eyes only.

Eddie wants to tell you he loves you but doesn't yet; now isn't the right time. So he runs to his room, returning with his mother's big-shot Polaroid camera, and takes a snapshot of you.

#stranger things #stranger things fic #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #fanfiction #crookedteethed #fem reader #eddie munson x reader smut #Eddie Munson #ST4 #stranger things 4 #corroded coffin #polaroid pictures #eddie munson x fem!reader smut

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il-miele-che-scrive · 3 months

Text

you know what people are saying when a girl gets cheated on? go for his brother.

a/n not tryna offend anyone, I just love a lil drama

Part 2 here

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username1 Miss Y/n Y/l/n getting cheated on? No one is safe fr

↳username2 Yeah cuz how's he casually cheating on a literal goddess??

username3 they were together for almost 2 years😭

username4 My therapist will hear about this

↳username1 And Arthur is paying the bill

username5 that's it I'm NEVER trusting a man

username6 Isn't that girl Y/n's friend too? Poor girl getting cheated on twice

↳username3 yes it is 😭 guess Arthur got it from his brother

username7 Except Charles didn't cheat 😭 he's a homie hopper but he got morals

username8 I don't worry about Y/n, she's gonna find a new bf, but she wasted almost 2 years on him

yourusername excuse my state i'm as high as your hopes

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username2 Miss girl about to enter her hoe phase

↳username3 As she should tbh

charlottesiine Lots of fun last night🤍

↳yourusername nothing will beat an ex wags night out

↳username2 best ex wags fr 😭

yoursister Next time I'm going too to keep an eye on you wtf

username4 Wait so Y/n and Charlotte are friends? When did this happen?

↳username5 Yeah cuz we've never seen them hang out back when ChaCha was a thing and suddenly the girls are partying together?

↳username6 I mean it could be just a "we both suffered a Leclerc so let's hang out" kinda thing

username5 WE BOTH SUFFERED A LECLERC 💀 no okay but that's valid

username7 Am I the only one noticing this post was liked by Charles?

↳username2 He knows his lil bro messed up lmao

username8 Okay guys so what are we betting on - did Charles like this post because of Y/n or because of Charlotte? Also, isn't he in a relationship?

↳username3 Charles has been single for a few months now, he's free to like whoever he wants lmao

↳username9 It's just a like it's not that deep

arthur_leclerc You were my cup of tea but I drink vanilla latte now

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username1 The AUDACITY some men have

username2 and she was her best friend 😭

username3 I really want to believe they broke up before he got with the best friend but I don't think it's true

↳username4 Y/n and Arthur literally attended Charles' race a few days before we got the pics of Arthur with the other girl

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yourusername you don't mean nothing at all to me

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yoursister And I didn't even have to stop you from calling your ex

↳yourusername why would I even wanna call him anyways

yoursister Riiight, you were too busy getting to know some other interesting people:)

username1 What is Y/s/n talking about?

↳username2 Or rather WHO is she talking about?

username3 No Charlotte in the post but Charles is in the likes again 😶

↳username4 Have you seen what this one gossip page posted? Charles being in the likes isn't the thing I'd worry about here

username5 WHAT.

username3 Care to elaborate?

username4 Charles was also at the club with Y/n. It honestly looks like it was organized by a friend of his and he took Y/n there

username2 OH

username2 That's what Y/s/n is talking about

username5 Our girl Y/n is getting promoted from F2 to F1 and I love to see that

↳username6 LMAO it's so funny because it's true 😭

↳username2 Do we know who else was at this party?

username4 Allegedly the party was organized by Gasly, so obviously there was his gf Kika, but also some fellow drivers like Albon, Russell, Sainz, Ocon, Ricciardo and their gfs

username5 I was joking but now it looks like Y/n is actually becoming an F1 wag now lol

username7 Gossip girl on wheels I've been saying it for months

username8 But the caption SLAPS

↳username9 no because it looks like Y/n and Arthur are having a caption war lol it's funny

username8 It's childish but let a girl heal from a heartbreak in peace

yourusername karma will take it from here

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username1 MISS GIRL?? WHO IS THE MAN??

↳username2 We all know it's Charles (allegedly)

username8 Nah cuz I told yall she's gonna find another boyfriend soon

yoursister Loving to see you happy again ❤️

↳yourusername just needed a little upgrade

username3 I have no proof but I just know it's Charles

username4 Do we think she went for Charles because she genuinely likes him or just to get back at Arthur?

↳username5 Wait until someone starts a "she cheated on Arthur with Charles" gossips

username6 My two favorite red flags

↳username7 The homie hopper and the brother hopper, a match made in heaven

username6 The homie hopper is so real, Y/n recently hung out with his ex Charlotte 💀

username8 What kinda brother gets with his brother's ex?

↳username9 Imagine the next family dinner lmao

username10 Y'all it's not even confirmed that the man is Charles, y'all are crazy

↳username6 The post was liked by all the F1 drivers and their partners that were on the party from Y/n's previous post, it says a lot

↳username2 What @/username6 said and also Y/n is now followed by half of the F1 grid AND the wags

charles_leclerc Not your cup of tea, but my glass of wine

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yourusername KARMA IS MY BOYFRIEND❤️

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#f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #formula 1 x reader #f1 imagine #charles leclerc x reader #f1 smau #f1 social media au #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc fanfic #Charles Leclerc smau #Arthur Leclerc x reader

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crashandlivewrites · 3 months

Text

I Need Your Discipline

My participation in @glitterypirateduck's SoapItUp event! I was initially gunning for Captain MacTavish but it wasn't coming together. Maybe I can get a second one out before the deadline.

Pairing: Soap x fem!reader

Summary: Soap 'accidentally' sends you a dick pic. You decide to teach him how to take nicer photos. Using prompt 29: "Was this your plan the entire time?"

CW: MDNI 18+ content, NSFW, cunnilingus, fingering (f receiving), unsolicited dick pic, consensual sending of nudes, coming in underwear

Word Count: 3.6k (it really got away from me whoops)

Captain Price had your attention all the way up until your phone buzzed in your pocket. Frowning, you took it out. You hadn’t been expecting a message from anyone and usually during meetings, you flicked it to only allow messages from fellow army personnel. Maybe you’d forgotten this time.

One glance at the screen told you that Soap had messaged, which wasn’t surprising. He often got bored and liked to pick jokes during Price’s long debriefs. However, when you snuck a glance at him, he wasn’t paying any attention to you like he usually would be while waiting for a reaction. Frowning, you opened his message.

It was his dick. Holy shit, Soap had sent you a picture of his penis. Suppressing a snort and shutting off your phone, you jerked your head up in confusion, trying to catch his attention, but he was acting completely engrossed with your Captain’s words. Sure, he’d always been light-hearted and playful, rubbing shoulders flirtatiously and throwing an arm around you any chance he got, but you’d also seen him out at the pub when he was actually trying to get in someone’s pants. And it had never seemed that way when he was taking to you, as much as you wanted it. Until now.

Glancing back down at the message, you realised there was another message after it.

> Just got back. Ready to hit pound town?

This time, you only just managed to cover your snort with a cough, earning the briefest of glances from Kyle sitting to your right. Quickly, you type a reply.

< Not the welcome home present I was expecting from you, MacTavish

Soap reached into his pocket a few moments later, pulling out his phone with a smirk on his face to read the message. His face then morphed into confusion before his eyes visibly widened and snapped up to meet yours. Raising your eyebrows, you tilted your head questioningly at him. His fingers flew over the keys.

> Fuck. That wasn’t for ye. I’m really fucking sorry

< Ouch. Nice to know I’m not good enough for your dick pics

> Shoulda told me ye were feelin left out. Coulda sent one to ye earlier. Would that make ye feel better?

< Nah. Received too many dick pics in my time. There are nicer ways to take nudes

Soap lifted his head, brow creasing and lips pouting as though insulted at your statement. You grinned back at him, shrugging as you waited for him to reply.

> My dick is pretty, thanks. Plenty of girls have liked it

< Didn’t say that. Just saying there’s nicer ways to take hot pics than just a straight up dick shot

> Oh yeah? Like what?

Biting your lip, you wondered if you really wanted to do this. You watch Price momentarily as you thought through the pros and cons of sending your teammate a nude of your own.

Pro: you’re sending a hot picture of yourself to the guy you’ve been crushing on

Con: he may not be interested in you

Pro: if things go south, you also have his dick pic to hold ransom

Con: he’s less likely to be embarrassed by his dick getting passed around base. Especially when it looked like THAT.

You could feel his eyes boring into the side of your head, waiting for your response. sucking in a deep breath, you scroll through your private photos, selecting one of your favourites. The picture accentuated your body as you were leaning against a wall wearing a pretty thong with one hand draped across your chest to squeeze your tits together and cover them over the middle. Grinning to yourself, you sent it to him.

You knew he’d received the image when a choked off cough sounded from his side of the room. Glancing over, you could see Ghost thump him over the back as Soap sheepishly held up a bottle of water.

“Sorry. Down the wrong pipe.” He wheezed; cheeks tinged pink as he met your eyes before returning to his phone.

> What the fuck

> Warn a man before ye send shite like that

> Is that really you?

> Fuck me I ken ye were bonnie but darlin

> Ye got me bricked rn

A warm rush of arousal surged through you, knowing that one little photo had sent him into a spiral. Smirking, and refusing to meet his heavy gaze, you focused on Price for the remainder of the meeting, ignoring the fact your phone was buzzing incessantly.

When Price finally dismissed the team, you didn’t even have time to push yourself up before the loud scrape of Soap’s chair filled the room and he marched over to you, nudging you out the door. His grip was like a vice on your arm as he steers you until he found an empty hallway. He pushed your back against the wall.

“We gonna talk about what that was?” He holds up his phone and waves it in your face. Shrugging, you leaned back against the wall, arms folding across your chest.

“You sent it first. Was just showing you what a good picture looks like.”

“My pictures look nice.” His tone was indignant as he frowned, glancing down the hall to check no one was coming towards you.

“Sure, because you’re decently attractive. That’s the only reason they’re passable.”

“Decently attractive…” He huffs, looking haughty as he crossed his arms.

“Why did you find my photo hot?”

“I never said that.” Clearing your throat dramatically, you pulled out your phone and began to read in a mockery of his accent.

“What the fuck? Warn a man before you send shite like that. Is that really you—”

“Haud yer wheesht! Fine, it was fucking hot.”

“Why was it hot, MacTavish?” He chewed the inside of his cheek and glanced at the floor as he rocked back on his heels.

“It was… sexy, without showing too much. Teasing and… fucking shite- fine! It made me want tae come over there and rip yer bloody kit off.” The corners of your lip twitched upwards, and you couldn’t fight the smirk that spread across your face.

“You wanna see another?”

The way his face lit up was almost comedic, before he frowned again.

“Yer fucking having me on, aren’t ye?” He scowled.

Pushing yourself off the wall, you slid your hands into your pockets, tilting your head as you stared at him coaxingly. He met your gaze, eyes squinting as he seemingly tried to read your expression before he sighed, head dipping for a moment before lifting back up again.

“I’d like fer ye tae send me another.” He asked begrudgingly, fingers toying with his phone. “Please.”

Biting your lip to prevent him from seeing your sly grin, you picked out another. This one was taken from over your shoulder, the curve of your ass framed by a pretty black thong. His phone buzzed and his attention immediately snapped to it before he groaned.

“Steamin’ hell, yer… shite, I cannae do this here.” He growls, eyes flashing dark with lust as they looked up at you. Blinking at him innocently only made his lip curl. “What’re ye playing at, darlin’?”

“Just showing you how to really rile someone up.”

“I’ll show ye riled up in a mo—”

“Would you like me to teach you, John?” You queried, seeing the interest immediately perk in his eyes. He paused in mid stride towards you, lips pursing.

“Ye wanna teach me how tae take photos like that? I appreciate the effort, hen, but I’m not as bonnie as ye are. Ain’t got the tits fer that.”

“You got tits aplenty, MacTavish. Look at them.” Reaching out, you squeeze his pecs with a teasing grin, and he bats your hand away playfully. “You’re hot, Johnny. Lemme just help you… accentuate it.”

“Yer boostin mah ego there, lass.” He titters, eyes sharp as they trail down your body. “Ye sure yer willing?”

“You sure you’re happy to miss out on your booty call for an impromptu photo shoot with your teammate?” You snark back, stepped forward to meet him halfway, boots tapping against his. Soap chuckled, finger tracing along your jaw as he leaned in, voice dropping to a whisper.

“After ye sent me these?” He scoffs, waving his phone in front of your face. “I’ve got all the time in the world fer ye.” The look on his face was smug as he leaned back. Your face matched his as you gripped the front of his shirt.

“Come with me then.”

As you shut your door behind you, you turned around to see Soap already tugging off his uniform.

“Why are you taking your clothes off already?” You growled at him; eyes sharp as you shook your head. Soap’s brows furrowed, halfway between shrugging his shirt off.

“Are we not takin’ nudes?” He asked bluntly, head tilting to the side. Letting out a breathy laugh, you locked your door and walked over to him, ruffling his mohawk causing him to squawk in protest.

“Nudes aren’t just about being naked, idiot.”

“Aye, they are. Is that not the whole point?” Rolling your eyes, you push him into a chair and wheel him in front of a mirror and standing behind him.

“When you take photos of yourself at the gym— don’t lie, I know you do.” You frowned down at him as he opened his mouth, about to process. “When you take photos of yourself at the gym, what do you look for?”

His face pinched in thought. “Making myself look good, I guess.” He shrugged. “Gettin’ my good angles.”

“Taking nudes is much the same. You’re a fit guy. Work your body into the shots too.”

“Aye, but I’m still fully clothed.” He points out, raising his brow as he looks at you in the mirror. Clicking your tongue, you leaned down, hands sliding down his firm chest as you plucked open his buttons, one by one.

“It’s the uniform, MacTavish. Use it.” You purred into his ear, pressing a kiss to the shell of it. He groaned softly; eyes fluttering closed as his breathing deepened. “See?” You pushed open his shirt revealing his toned chest. His eyes were fixed on you in the mirror, watching your every move with focused intent.

“Now lean back slightly, spread your legs, roll your sleeves up, and tuck your thumb into your belt.” He did as you said, and you helped adjust the final touches, ruffling his hair once more before stepping out of sight. “Now take a few. You can change positions a little. Feel yourself, you know? Take what looks good.”

You let him sit there for a few minutes, watching him closely as you leaned against the wall out of shot, feeling your body react to him. He was a natural taking pictures, adjusting his positioning slightly as he got into the feel of it. Finally, when he was satisfied, he turned his head to look at you, seeking your approval. Smiling, you stepped towards him, cupping his head as he blinked up at you expectantly. Resting your chin on his shoulder, he flicked through the photos for you.

“Look at you. Don’t you look hot?”

“Ye really think so?” His voice was soft as he turned his head slightly towards you. His long lashes cast slightly shadows over his cheeks, and you found yourself drawn into him. Blinking and breaking the trance, you didn’t answer, instead choosing to chuckle and raise your brow, standing back up.

“Shirt off, next. Belt too but leave your pants on.” Soap nodded under your instruction, face flushing pink as he quickly rid himself of the items you’d specified, leaving him in his combat boots and pants. “Same kinda thing. Move around, pose. Flex a little. Especially your forearms and hands.”

Again, you stepped back, this time admiring him more closely as he got more comfortable, turning around and playing with different angles. Your eyes drifted along the lines of back, tracing down his body as you felt the tension building in the room.

Stepping forward, you came in behind him, hands sliding down his sides until you got to the buttons of his pants, undoing them with practiced ease. His cock pulsed with interest, and you could feel him thickening as you slid your hand down his front, rewarded with a soft groan.

“Fuckin’ hell, hen. Ye’ve nae idea what ye do tae me.”

“I have somewhat of a feeling.” You grinned over his shoulder, tucking his boxer briefs down so the base of his cock was evident in the mirror. “Take a picture of that.” You whispered, pressing a kiss between his shoulder blades before stepping back once more.

Soap cursed, head turning to look at you with longing as you stepped back, but you pointed to the mirror, and he diligently turned. His hand slid down the toned planes of his body, thumb hooking in the waistband of his underwear and tugging them down to expose the thick base of his cock, hair trimmed, but on the longer side.

Instead of looking at the camera, or at himself in the mirror, his eyes were on you, heady and lustful. The corners of your lips twitched upwards, and you began to slowly remove your own clothing until you were in nothing but your bra and underwear. Swearing under his breath, Soap roamed every inch of your exposed body, palm pressing into his groin as his hips jutted forwards.

“Ye gonna fuckin’ ruin me, doll.”

“Take off your pants and get on the bed, MacTavish.”

“Aye, ma’am.” He said, eagerly moving to kick off his boots and pants before rolling onto the bed. Eagerly following behind him, you shuffled up the bed on your knees, straddling his thighs as your hands slid up to cup his semi-hard erection.

“See how we’re not even naked and you’re already swelling in your boxers?” He groaned, head tipping back against the headboard as your hand pressed against him, working him up to full hardness.

“It’s all you, hen. Fuck yer makin’ me ache.” He whined, eyebrows tilting upwards as he pleaded for more. Shaking your head, you took your hands off him to unclasp your bra and throw it aside.

“One more. Want you to hold your cock and press it up against the fabric, so we can see the outline of the head.”

He swore again but did as you asked. Gripping his cock tightly, he slapped it a few times against his leg as he stared at your breasts, swallowing thickly before turning his attention to the camera and taking a few shots. But it didn’t last long.

Releasing his cock and throwing his phone aside, Soap wrapped his arms around you, flipping you over on the bed. As you lay sprawled, slightly surprised by the sudden change in position, Soap loomed above you, smirk evident on his face.

“Yer in fer it now, dollie. Been teasin’ me this whole time. Getting tae touch me like that, tell me how to hold my own damn cock. Nah… I’m gonna touch you now.” He purred, eyes predatory as his hands squeezed your tits, thumbs flicking over your nipples, making you moan softly, arching your back.

Soap titters, sliding further down your body to push your legs apart and settle himself between them. Humming to himself, he ran a finger down your covered centre, circling your clit lightly before prodding at your soaked entrance.

“All this just from seein’ me take a few pics?” His eyes were gleaming in excitement as he hooked a finger underneath the material of your thong and pulled it aside. “Jesus, hen… ye look like a god damn dream.”

Perching yourself up onto your elbows, you looked down at him between your legs, watching his expression as he tugged your underwear to the side and lowered his mouth to blow air over the wet, sensitive skin.

“What’s this? Cannae stand a wee bit of teasing, bonnie lass?” You whined at his cocky tone, lifting your hips up slightly and he cooed, sliding your underwear down your legs and tossing it onto his pants. “I’m keeping that, just so you know.”

Before you even had the chance to protest, his hands ran up the backs of your legs, spreading them out and holding them down as he sucked kissed along your inner thighs, nipping slightly as he went.

“John…” Rolling your hips, you gripped the sheets in frustration. “Stop being an ass and put your mouth on me.”

“God, yer pure gaggin’ fer it, ain’t ye?” His grin was feral as he dragged the lip of his tongue ever so lightly against the hood of your clit. “Admit this was what ye wanted as soon as ye got that snap of my cock.”

In the dizzy haze of arousal, his words sparked something, and you stared down at him, eyes narrowed.

“Was this your plan all along? Was there ever another girl you were meant to send that photo to?” He shrugged, lapping at your cunt and making your toes curl with pleasure as he chuckled against you, the vibrations sending shivers through your body.

“That’s my secret tae ken, dollie. ‘Sides, ye really gonna complain when it’s yer bed I’m in and yer legs I’m between?” His smug expression made you want to bite back some sarcastic reply, but you just couldn’t find the words. “Didnae think so.”

His mouth lowered onto your throbbing cunt, one hand moving to spread you open so his tongue could press in, tasting you. He groaned deeply, fingers digging into your leg as the thumb on his other hand flicked over your clit. His hips ground into the bed as he did so, making him moan again.

Pulling back, you could see the sticky wetness of your arousal already covering his bottom lip and chin. As if he could tell where you were looking, he stuck out his tongue and dragged it along his lower lip, grinning as he watched you.

“Cannae believe ye been holdin’ out on me. Could sit here between these legs and eat this cunt out for hours. Tastes so fucking good.” He dove back in, wrapping his lips and sucking on your clit as his fingers pressed into you.

You gasped at the stretch, back arching off the bed as his fingers began to move, scissoring and spreading your cunt wider for him. He continued to suck your clit, tongue dragging over it as you cried out, gripping the sheets tightly as your pussy clenched around his fingers.

“Fuck— Johnny please. God, you’re so fucking good.” You moaned breathlessly, panting as sweat beaded on your forehead. Soap let out a rumbling laugh as he kept his face pressed into your cunt, desperately trying to bring you over the edge.

Lifting your head to look at him, you saw his hips driving desperately into the bed where the sheets had bundled up underneath his crotch. You managed to find your voice.

“I taste that good huh? You gonna come just from eating me out?” He nodded eagerly, fingers curling and pumping into you with renewed intensity, heat curling viciously in your gut.

“So fucking good. So fucking good fer me.” He mumbled; eyes boring into yours. “Please… I’m so fucking close. Need you tae come fer me, aye?”

You nodded, panting, watching him as he focused his attention solely on you, humming softly as you felt your cunt throb with intense need, the feeling in your belly growing.

“Johnny— oh fuck, please. Please!” Your legs twitched as your hips hitched upward and, with a cry of his name, you let yourself go, pussy spasming around his fingers as he groaned into your cunt, happily lapping at your juices as you climaxed.

As you calmed down, body sagging into the bed, you looked down at Soap who was resting his head against your thigh, eyes glazed as he grinned up at you smugly.

“Enjoy yerself there?”

“Don’t act like you didn’t enjoy it too.” You bit back, wiping your brow as you grinned lazily down at him. “I can see the mess in your underwear.”

Soap simply shrugged, rolling onto his back to remove his underwear, wiping the remnants of his cum from his dick before sliding himself up the bed to settle next to you.

“I said ye tasted fucking divine.”

“Shut up, Johnny.” You pushed him slightly and he laughed, wrapping his arm around you.

“We should keep this going.” He murmurs softly, glancing up at you. Blinking in surprise, you look over at him.

“Thought you didn’t do relationships, MacTavish.” You warned, mostly for your own sake. He simply shrugged.

“Wouldnae mind having ye ‘round to take some more photos with.” He said simply, nestling into the crook of your neck. “And I wouldnae mind eating that cunt every mornin’.”

You rolled your eyes, but threaded your fingers through his hair, scratching his scalp lightly as he cuddled in close.

“So those pictures we took are going to waste then, since you’re keeping me around?” You tease, poking his nose. He sniffs.

“Gonna send them tae you instead. Make ye think about naught but my steamin’ hot body every meeting.”

You smacked him over the head as you laughed, shaking your head at him.

“Price’ll kill you if he finds out.”

“Worth it.” He mumbles once more, squeezing you closer as he pressed a kiss to the base of your neck.

#crash writes #soapitup #john soap mactavish x reader #john mactavish x reader #soap x reader #john soap mactavish smut #john mactavish smut #soap smut #call of duty smut #cod smut #john soap mactavish #john mactavish #soap mactavish #soap call of duty #soap cod

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hysteria-things · 2 months

Note

hey! love your stories

can you do a story where Matt/chris x Reader have to hide their relationship from EVERYONE (including the internet) but one of them slips up and exposes everything.

if you can make a story like this thank you!!!

EXPOSED

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: chris x reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: a tiny slip-up causes the fandom to go a little cray cray.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: FLUFF, swearing

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 505

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: thank you for 1.5k i love you guysss!

“why are you so heavy.” you groan as chris is hugging you, his legs wrapping around your waist.

“that’s harsh,” he says, and you roll your eyes.

you’ve known chris for a while, becoming good friends along the way. what people don’t know, including his brothers, is that you guys are dating.

you don’t want to get bashed online by preteens, and he’s just not ready to reveal it quite yet either.

your best friend laughs, snapping a pic of you guys for fun. the three of you are on a sunset walk on the street, soaking up the outdoors.

“don’t hate me.” she starts, and chris finally lets go. “you guys would make such a cute couple.”

cheeks becoming red, you feel chris’ stare on you. he smirks. “nah. that’ll never happen.”

a few days go by, and yes you’ve seen the tweets, but thankfully the fans don’t believe it. i mean, they already know you guys are close friends. nothing suspicious about that.

today’s different. you wake up from your afternoon nap with your phone blowing up. mention after mention.

QUEEN WE NEED ANSWERS @y/n_l/n

@y/n_l/n and chris??? hello???

no SHOT chris and y/n are dating😭

you pause at the last comment.

‘no shot chris and y/n are dating’

what?

confused as ever, you open up the most reliable source: twitter. twitter knows everything about everyone.

you scroll, seeing hundreds of tweets about you and chris. there’s also a video attached, what seems like a clip from the triplets’ new podcast.

you tap on the video.

nothing exciting happens for the first two seconds, just them yapping about whatever the fuck. then the camera cuts to chris. “yeah, my girlfriend y/n—” he starts, stopping when he notices.

that son of a gun.

matt’s face scrunches. “your girlfriend y/n?”

“i meant my good friend y/n. i was talking too fa—"

“i knew it!” nick exclaims, causing him and chris to get into a bickering match.

the video ends, and a message pops up.

chris <3

i’m outside

you sigh, uncovering yourself from your blanket and heading to the front door. you open it, your boyfriend smiling fake at you. he can’t tell if he’s in trouble or not. “it was an accident.” he says, almost fearful.

your eyes widen, nodding your head along with his rambling. “i wasn’t thinking. my mouth was moving faster than my brain. it came so naturally because you, you know, are my girlfriend. my girlfriend; that i love so much. who i will never betray. who i can never live without. who i—”

“chris, stop,” you say softly. he for sure thinks he’s in trouble, but you honestly don’t care about the tweets and tiktoks. it was a silly slip-up, but in reality, you guys couldn’t hide your relationship forever. “it’s okay. it was bound to happen, honestly.”

“you’re not mad?”

“no.” you giggle, cupping his neck and pulling him into a kiss.

“i love being your good friend y/n.” you say jokingly, chris smiling on your lips.

𝐭𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!

@bunbunbl0gs @lexisecretaccx @thy-mission @angelic-sturniolos111 @sophssturn @mattsneezing @janiellasblog @blahbel668 @meg-sturniolo @hearts4chris @mattslolita @sturnbaby @imwetforyourmom @tillies33ssss @sturnifyed @mayhem-72 @ripmattitude @p1xieswrld @alorsxsturn @txssvx @sttzee @multiluvr @delilahprentiss @matthewsspecial @idkhowtosleep @sturniolho @suga-daddy-69 @tworosesblackthorn @luckistar-posts @gnxosblog @junnniiieee07 @sturnioloslurps @tylerthecreatorsrealwife @flowerxbunnie @imaslut4kehlani @sturniolosandmoree

#chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo imagine #sturniolo smut #sturniolo fluff #chris sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo fluff #matt sturniolo fluff #✎ ⤾ haleigh’s requests!

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hannieehaee · 14 days

Text

18+ / mdi

content: loser!wonwoo, nerdy!wonwoo, sub!wonwoo, subdom!reader, mentions of sfw pics being taken behind your back, corruption, wonwoo's first time, dry humping, handjob, penetrative sex, etc.

wc: 2599

a/n: thank u to anon who inspired this ur a real one

masterlist

in this day and age, you knew that a mere college degree would likely not be enough for you to find a job within your field.

you were a creative, hoping to one day work as a photographer or maybe get into the creative design field upon graduating. however, you'd heard the horror stories of fellow graduates entering the terrifying world that came after college, with many unable to land a solid gig after graduating.

that's how you landed yourself a spot in the yearbook committee, becoming both a photographer and editor throughout these past few months.

that was also how you came to meet jeon wonwoo, the enigmatic boy who had become your partner any time you'd be assigned to photograph at school events.

despite spending quite a bit of time with wonwoo, attending every school event with him, you were yet to really get to know him. wonwoo was likely the shyest guy you'd met in all the years you'd spent at college so far. it was extremely hard to get to know him, as he would be only mumble and shy away any time you tried to make conversation with him. so far, all you knew about him was that he was a photography major (an extremely talented one at that), he was part of the gaming club (information you got from your friend vernon), and that he was generally very into stereotypically nerdy stuff.

none of this information was too groundbreaking, which only made you even more curious about wonwoo. it seemed like he'd specifically go out of his way to avoid you, stuttering like crazy when you'd try and make conversation and attempting to work separately any time you were assigned to photograph at the same locations.

all this only made your current situation all the more interesting, as you now found yourself at wonwoo's door, pondering on whether to knock on the door or not.

for some backstory, it was finally the end of your junior year of college, meaning that most of the work necessary for the production of the yearbook had been completed. all that needed to be done now solely consisted of editorial stuff as you finessed the final product.

this meant that you'd have to meet up with wonwoo to collaborate on the overlay of the yearbook, with the two of you being assigned the duty due to having worked together for most of the past two semesters.

you had jumped at this opportunity, entirely too interested in the shy, glass-clad boy. as embarrassed as you were to admit it, you had developed a bit of a crush on wonwoo. his constant stuttering and nerves around you gave you a strange thrill you had never experienced before. maybe you had a thing for losers, who knew.

and so you decided that now that you had this opportunity to visit wonwoo, being able to get him alone, you'd have a little fun.

yeah, maybe you had put on the tiniest clothes you could get away with wearing out in public. and yes, maybe you had worn that lipgloss you had once seen wonwoo eyeing on you. but could you be blamed? the thought of breaking him excited you too badly, completely sure but now that he must've held a bit of a crush on you (at least based on his constant nerves around you).

finally knocking on the door, you waited a few moments before a messy-haired wonwoo opened the door, giving you a sheepish smile as he welcomed you in.

his apartment was clean, but you could still tell that this had been a rushed effort, being able to spot some clothing misplaced and a few bowls scattered on some pieces of furniture. other than that, it seemed like wonwoo was likely cleaner than the average male college student.

after quietly looking around, you finally turned to wonwoo, who had been watching you quietly as his hands anxiously played with the oversized sleeves of the cardigan he was wearing.

"do you wanna work in your room or on the couch?", you asked.

somehow, you had caught him off guard, making him stumble over his words before muttering that his bed would be better, as it was bigger.

entering his room, you couldn't help a silent giggle at how predictable it looked, filled with star wars and marvel posters on the wall, along with some figurines. the room also included a clearly expensive pc and a few gaming consoles, obviously accompanied by a gaming chair.

liberally taking a seat in the middle of his bed, you allowed your skirt to flow highly enough for your legs to become exposed. you grinned to yourself when wonwoo took a seat beside you, gulping at the sight before opening his macbook on his lap.

once again, without any invitation, you scoot closer to him to get a better view, enjoying the intake of breath you heard from the boy.

after that, you actually worked together for a while, quietly discussing what content you'd leave in and what you'd take out. it was quite enjoyable, actually. you had known wonwoo to have a great creative eye, having seen his photography before, but it surprised you that he was just as good at graphic design.

you voiced this praise to him, making him chuckle awkwardly as he shook his head in denial.

"no, i'm serious, wonwoo. you're so good at this," you repeated.

"ah, n-no, it's just- i'm not that good," he muttered, lowering his head a bit and keeping his eyes on the screen to avoid looking at you.

no, this just wouldn't do.

going on a leap, you scoot even closer, now with your side completely pressed up against his own. bringing your hand up to his chin, you made him face you, smiling at the clear panic in his face.

"wonwoo ... why can't you take my compliment? hmm? you don't believe me?", you murmured, keeping your distance far too small as you awaited his answer.

"i-it's not that, it's just that-"

cutting off his muttering, you continued, "want me to show you? show you that i mean it?", your eyes lowered to his lips before going back to his eyes, hoping that that was enough of a hint for him to know what you meant.

gulping again, his eyes looked to your lips too, looking back up before parting his lips, attempting to make some sort of sound but failing, simply whimpering pathetically.

his whimper was enough to ruin you, making you close the gap between you with a soft kiss.

pathetically, he whined against you as you did all the work, leaving soft kisses against his lips up until your tongue made use of the small gap of his lips, sneaking in and encouraging him to follow along in your movements.

you sighed softly against his lips, wanting nothing more than to encourage his kisses. when he finally began kissing back, you repositioned yourself on the bed, pushing off the laptop and kneeling in front of him without ever breaking the kiss. like a good boy, he followed you in your movements, allowing you to lay him down on the bed as you climbed over him.

pulling away, you chuckled against his lips as he pathetically followed your lips with a whine, hands uncharacteristically holding onto your hips as he held you against him.

"wonwoo," you breathed out against his lips, "is it okay if i take off my clothes, baby?"

"y-yes, fuck. please. i- i mean, you don't have to, but, fuck, i-"

"shhh. it's okay, baby. i'll take them off, yeah? then it's your turn," you reassured, throwing off your skimpy summer dress before snapping off your bra and struggling your way out of your panties before sitting back on him.

the sight of the nerdy boy under you as he salivated over every new inch of skin you exposed to as laughable. his eyebrows were furrowed in the a manner that made it look like he was in pain. his breathy gasps at the revelation of your breasts had given you a huge ego boost, making you play with them for a bit for his viewing satisfaction. after that you leaned down again, going back to what had first started all this.

"you're so pretty, wonwoo ... so talented and nice and pretty. my pretty nonu," you breathed into his lips, giving him no chance to respond.

he still did his best, shaking his head, insisting that you were the pretty one. that you were the prettiest girl he had ever seen.

"n-no, you ... you're so pretty fuck, i- i've always wanted you ... fuck, is that, is that okay? always thought you were the prettiest girl ... get so nervous around you," he confessed, sighing when your arms went under his shirt, toying at his nipples before helping him remove his cardigan and shirt.

now shirtless, you practically salivated over his body, feeling him up like you were entirely depraved of touch. he was far more buff and delicious than you had ever imagined. wonwoo seemed to enjoy it just as much, letting out desperate breaths as you felt him up. before long, his sounds became even higher and whinier, as your hands made their way to his pants, pushing them down as best as you could before getting a hold of his already hardened cock.

"a-ah, t-that's ... fuck, a-are you sure?", gasped wonwoo, squirming under you like the pretty little nerd you'd been wanting for so long.

"yes, nonu. is it okay? is it okay when i play with your pretty cock like this?", your hand wrapped tighter around him, bringing his member out of his boxers and jerking him faster as he nodded desperately in approval.

"it's so good, fuck ... feels so ... so nice. please ..."

he was already such a whimpering mess and you hadn't even started working on his pleasure. unknowingly, wonwoo was slowly corrupting your mind, making you feel a monstrous need to do every nasty thing imaginable to the pretty boy moaning under you.

with a groan, you repositioned yourself, leaning back a little so you could drag your pussy against his cock. the thought alone made your eyes roll back. and the execution? the execution had you whimpering at the sudden stimulation, falling in love with the hardness of wonwoo's cock.

in the meantime wonwoo had lost all ability to produce any sort of sound, letting out breathless whimpers at the feeling of your cunt dragging against him, glasses fogged up and hands digging into your hips to unknowingly try and guide you against his dick.

"y/n ... oh, fuck ... p-please ... need- need more, oh, please ..."

dry humping could only go so long, but you wanted to drag it as much as you could. the sight and sound of wonwoo begging for you had you on cloud nine. he was so handsome and well built that you couldn't help but become hypnotized to the sight under you as you humped him with no shame.

the pretty mess under you continued to beg, strong arms even coming to stop your movements when the pleasure got too much, pleading at you to please let him have your cunt.

"g-give it to me. please. need to feel it, i- i've never had it before. need t-to know. need it to be you, fuck, please ..."

oh? was the pretty boy a virgin? were you about to deflower the mess under you?

wonwoo should've never let you in on this information, as it immediately drove you crazy with desire. you needed to claim him, mark him as yours and keep him all to yourself forever.

without hesitating any longer, you lowered yourself on him, groaning out at the stretch while wonwoo let out the prettiest high-pitched moan you had ever heard. it was pathetic how his deep voice fell to mere whimpers at the simple touch of a woman. yet it made you tighten around him all the tighter.

your hips bounced on his thin thighs, hand dipping in so you could play with your clit. maybe one day you'd teach him how to give you pleasure in such a way, but for now you just wanted to ruin him.

"gonna cum ... i- fuck, im gonna cum. c-can i? please?", he pleaded, eyes shut closed in pleasure.

it took you a few moments to answer, not wanting to leave him waiting for too long during his first time, but needing to get yourself to the edge in order to cum with him. within a few seconds he repeated his pleas, this time even more pathetically than before. this was what broke you, making you nod and whimper in affirmation as your own orgasm took over.

"such a g-good boy for me, nonu," you leaned down to kiss him, wanting to give him as much intimacy as you could for his first time.

kissing you back, he wrapped his arms around you, consistently crying praises against your lips. he let you know how badly he loved your cunt, how much he'd fantasized about this. the rest got muddled in the endless whimpers he let out.

after riding your high, you laid against his him, ear against his chest as you caught your breaths. his skin was clammy and his heartbeat fast. you loved being the cause of both things.

"does ... does this mean you like me back?" he murmured.

nodding against his chest, you left a few kisses against the skin, "yes, wonwoo. i've liked you for a while."

he exhaled in relief, "fuck, thank god."

your let yourself roll over from on top of him and lay on his side, finding a more comfortable position to cuddle with him.

then you suddenly remembered.

"shit, we gotta finish the yearbook."

it was his turn to chuckle, "let's nap for a while first. i'll wake up and get the final details later. promise."

you took his promise in the form of the union of pinkies, taking his advice of taking a nap as the surprisingly buff boy held you in his arms, falling into slumber quickly after.

ironically, you woke up before he did, approximately two hours after having fallen asleep in his arms. spotting the laptop on the floor, you decided to do him the favor of doing the final touches yourself, deciding that this would somehow be some form of aftercare as he regained his energy by sleeping.

shockingly enough, having the initiative to work on the unfinished yearbook spread as wonwoo continued to sleep next to you proved quite interesting as you finally got hold of the computer.

you hadn't meant to snoop, but a folder hidden on the corner immediately caught your attention. you hadn't noticed it earlier, as wonwoo had the computer on his own lap the entire time, but its title consisted of your initials, making you entirely too curious about it.

opening it, you had to hold in your gasp upon finding about twenty pictures of you out and about at each of the events you'd attended with wonwoo to photograph for the yearbook. for candids, they were quite beautiful.

in any other situation, you wouldve been rightfully freaked out. but the thought of shy little wonwoo fantasizing about you as he took pictures of you to look at later only made you want to claim him even more.

looking to the pretty boy softly snoring next to you, you were already planning all the ways in which you'd mock and berate him over it, all while you ruined him under you yet again.

#seventeen fanfic #seventeen x reader #svt fanfic #svt x reader #seventeen imagine #seventeen #svt #seventeen oneshot #seventeen smut #svt smut #wonwoo scenarios #wonwoo imagines #wonwoo x reader #wonwoo oneshot #wonwoo smut

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capslocked · 6 months

Text

KINKVEMBER DAY: 4

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

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

Here’s the truth:

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

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

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

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

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

"not really doing much narrowing down here hyewon."

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

"i'm feeling kinda adventurous."

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

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

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

Until,

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

And then it hits you.

"ah."

"yeah, 'ah'," she replies.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Smooth."

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

Hyewon nearly snorts.

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Pretty."

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

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

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

"Different day, different you."

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

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

"Women like you."

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

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

"Isn't it," she agrees.

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

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

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

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

You blink, drawing her out.

"They know how to tie a knot."

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

(What a character, honestly.)

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

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

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

"Never said as much either."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Mhmm."

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

"Like?" you continue to prod.

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

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

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

"I thought you'd never ask."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Something like that."

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

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

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

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

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

You try to finish it for her:

"She likes it rough."

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

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

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

(Damn.)

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

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

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

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

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

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

She cums just like that.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And she cuts off abruptly, looking at you.

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

"The room," you say to her, harshly, "where is it."

"Four more floors."

Room 1014 as it turns out is like every other room you've ever been in, each one perhaps a little more identical than the last - except this one has Hyewon sitting in your lap while you get comfortable on the bed, and there's also the way she looks in the mirror above the headboard, the desperation in her stare, right back into the reflection.

"What all," she says, "do you want to do to me?"

This time - no explicit instructions - just an implication. You have to figure it out.

See, the image of her is like every fantasy rolled into one, wearing this thin black bra that has her breasts just about spilling over. They're amazing - the color and shape of her skin. Soft. Cradled between the cups like a godsend, and maybe that's why it drives her a little crazy how good you look biting down the ridge of her breast and flicking your eyes back up to catch her expression.

It has you feeling, if nothing else, a little ‘adventurous,’ too.

Her belly tenses on a heavy sigh and it's one hell of a thing to have Hyewon staring you down, like you're an animal or an idiot, with her eyes flashing and a thinly veiled anger in the purse of her lips. There's a thousand things she'd like to do to you - for you to do to her - but it's about the predicament: the silk necktie she'd pulled off you as you both stumbled through the door has ended up around her wrists, pinning her arms behind her back in a way that suggests a loss of control. Just the mere suggestion of a little playacting, but she's almost keening.

You feel the touch of her right calf keep rising - curving down your waist, hooked behind the small of your back - her thighs smooth, and a hot line along your sides.

"I should fuck that pretty mouth of yours," you say against the shell of her ear, because you know better than anyone, the very concept gets her wet. Uncomfortably so.

And she leans her head against your temple like she'd love it. You could be imagining the little whimper as she clenches up round nothing - until a growl escapes the back of her throat and she's saying -

"Is that how you're going to cum? With me on my knees and nothing else? Cover my pretty face? How you’ll completely ruin me?. You’re more creative than that."

“I don’t know that I am.”

Her hips move to find some friction where there isn't any until you give her some, pulling your cock out through your pants and feeling it brush, once, twice against the seam of her. Hot, and hard. Ready. And if she only tried a little, the angle was made perfectly to slot your head in, but neither of you move. She doesn't yield.

"Let me fuck myself on you," she suggests, strained, almost pleading. "Then perhaps I will."

You could take her like she is. Any which way. But this is about getting a particular reaction - one that'll leave her spent and trembling - and nothing like that will happen without a little bit of preparation and prelude. You want to watch her writhe for hours. Until she forgets she's playing a character at all, until she's panting your name and whimpering for release, her cheeks burning.

But at least it gets her writhing on you, the heat and press of her body as she leans in close, your eyes locking:

"Get your cock inside me-" the urgency in her voice. "-fuck me right now, this second-"

"Say it again."

"Fill me with your perfect cock." The words land right on your lips, frayed at the edges as the tether to her control slips another notch. "Push my thighs apart until you break me," Hyewon tells you - and then with her legs twisted up in the comforter, the creaking mattress and the sweat on the sheets: she rolls her hips like they're pleading for it.

"Pushy."

"Gentle's got no appeal for us."

"Apparently not," you reply - but then it's suddenly a lot easier, to slide one hand in Hyewon's hair, and grip at the knotted silk wrapped tight 'round her wrists to hold her. There's no hiding the subtle arching of her spine, how the pressure off her arms pulls her chest in or makes it all the more comfortable, she doesn't let on, she'll probably keep pretending she doesn't like this, that she hasn't always wanted -

You run your tongue over her collarbone and thrust up inside her, once - a warning that you're not giving in to her quite yet.

The smile that runs her lips is brittle. Like her patience isn't what it used to be - she makes a quiet little noise, pained. A flash of discomfort. But there's a moan and a curse out of her:

"Like that. Harder."

"What does harder mean?" you ask, with a deliberate repetition in motion, thrusting upward, forcing her hips to shift a few degrees further back - her knees clenching around the sheets as you're met with no give - Hyewon's resistance through a dark smile, and her grip slackened in her hands, despite you keeping a fist wound tight in the hair on the back of her head, tightening the other around her restraint.

Her throat flinches: this shudder.

She takes a couple heaving, open-mouthed breaths, before she has it in her to glare at you again.

"Harder-" The way her mouth shapes around the word gets the better of you - cute little cupid's bow in pink, full and swollen and pursed up as if in pain. Or desire. Or both, the way her head is tipped back, hair half undone - an idea is already coiling at the back of your mind. "-until I can't stand."

"Or talk?"

And when your hand loosens on her wrists, her posture slumps like it's relief, that you're finally going to move along in a direction she's getting some satisfaction from -

Hyewon shakes her head in a moment that's almost blissed.

"You," her voice breaks on the tail end, "fucking wish you could shut me up that easily -"

In a motion almost gentle, you twist the length of hair down around her, from her scalp to her jaw, and wrap it around a hand. "Let's see if you'll change your mind, shall we."

There's a sharp draw of air in past her lips, just one sound, not a word. No proper rebuttal. She bites down, teeth clicking.

So you pull.

And this isn't some revelation, that Hyewon's cunt is heaven. Slick and tight, the fit around your cock and the gasp escaping the base of her throat - that isn't new. You've been here countless times, fucked her past her breaking point, beyond what should reasonably satisfy her or satisfy you, but that still doesn't take away from this incredible, heady rush that pulses through your entire body. It never stops getting better, not inch-after-fucking-inch the way you're bottoming out inside Hyewon's body and feel how hard the rest of her muscles tense up in the contact, how her pussy tightens and quivers, and grips around the entirety of your cock, the briefest taste of pleasure and release before it's pulled back just out of her reach - overstimulated, until Hyewon cries out.

You expect, predict the fight, the whimpers that spill out of her mouth with every slap of your skin and the breathless way she begs, pleads, like she'd rather her pride take it from her than have your fingers tug her hair up, right out of her scalp, with your arm locked around her lower waist. With your cock pumping faster, faster and a pressure, hot and inescapable, right there - the friction building - the slippery-wet heat sliding along your shaft with every stroke until you bottom out and her next exhale is a sob.

A goddamn fucking sob and the warm gush of liquid down her thighs - all on you. You fingers are pressed into her ass, pulling onto you, steading her bounce - and Hyewon finds her breathing uneven, as you smear wet across the curve of her backside, rubbing circles into her lower back as you catch up on the rhythm she'd lost.

"This tight little cunt, huh," you tease, and she nods so desperately it seems like she might snap. Like she might cry again and this time for real, a drop of her eye color past the blush, streaking down her cheek. You have the wherewithal to remember your character, your blocking, your lines: "this is what your husband won't do? Won't fuck you on every piece of furniture until you're a ruined fucked-out mess? Doesn't have the decency to work over his little slutty-wife until she's passed out, dripping with cum?"

Hyewon's fingers curl up into two balls of white knuckles and she chokes on her reply. "He won't."

"Tell him. He has a hot and dirty little piece of ass right under his own roof-"

"You think," and the string of words trails off when you manage to grind in, at this angle that has her reeling, trembling at every shift and jerk in momentum. Your knuckles drag against her soft and giving curves, almost gripping at her in the attempt to hold her down on you. "-my husband isn't enough."

"Well you wanted me to fuck the domestic housewife out of you," you murmur, taking two greedy handfuls of the ass bouncing in your lap, rubbing your palms along her hips, up and around the shape of her abdomen and her ribcage like you'd map it, memorize it. She wants this, you know this: your palms come around and over and brush your thumbs against her rising gooseflesh - she's putty in your hands. "No strings attached, remember, a one night kind of thing-"

"My husband loves me."

"Then it seems-"

"He makes me cum with his hands alone."

Your jaw works tight - Hyewon's cunt feels as good wrapped around you as she says your cock feels making a mess of it.

"Tells me he'd die happy hearing me moan his name."

"Oh, because no matter where he goes," you say, fingers wrapping under and around the back of her neck, forcing her to look you in the eye, "no matter what, your sweet cunt's the only one his mouth is ever watering for, isn't that right-"

A blink, lashes thick and feathering down and over the pools of her pupils as you have a hold of her tight.

You're having a hard time with this, and you want to give it to her, the toe-curling-crescendo that would see her cumming at your will, or worse, losing the plot completely and your entire setup falling away from the charade of characters you'd both conjured. But she looks at you like she's never loved anyone like she loves you, the naked, barefaced devotion, the tenderness - a quick breath, a second - and the game is suddenly something far more personal, a truth. It isn't exactly fair: how your heart stutters. How much her heartbeat makes your pulse flutter, the electrifying rush you get when you fuck roughly up into her tight, wet cunt and make her bite down on nothing in the throes another orgasm.

You barely have a second to think of something coherent, let alone an out before she kisses you. If that isn’t totally disarming. So you move her into the next, flipping her onto her stomach, and she does nothing to fight back: Hyewon just lies there - the side of her face plastered to the comforter - exhausted, and gives a willing, malleable moan at the contact where your hand digs into the shape of her upper thighs, spreading them out as her elbows struggle behind her back.

"Here, baby," you say, finally unwinding the silk knot between her wrists, "I'll have you like the little desperate fucktoy you really are."

There's the bite to her bottom lip, the whole five seconds it takes for her hands to spread out and twist her fingers tight in the bedspread, before she whines - full-throated - and rocks back onto her toes to arch her back.

(See, the thing: Hyewon likes being fucked within an inch of her life. On all fours and pleading for more.)

With your free hand, you reach around her to run over her inner thighs.

Hyewon brings her grip to the bottom of the bed frame, for purchase, or leverage, you don't know, and in one simple motion, you slip your cock back deep inside her pussy.

You curse under your breath.

Hyewon fucking collapses.

It's a dangerous combination, having her begging and you nearly fully clothed while she's wearing barely more than this thin strip of black silk around her waist and a stocking on one leg, but you can't help it - she looks good this way.

"Fuck," she spits out, voice lost when your hips find hers in this wet, sloppy crash of skin that gets louder, faster and more punishing on each beat. "Like that, oh my God-"

Her whimpering only gets worse - when you start only pulling out halfway, until she's gasping like she can't breathe. You think there isn't a more wonderful, more obscene, more gorgeous thing than Hyewon spread out in front of you - the curve of her spine defining each and every one of the lines, dips, and rises of her body - and you would thank God or some higher deity right about now.

It’s fuck and please and every other little pliant utterance of “fuck my brains out, use me, make me beg, I'm so turned on right now I'll let you fuck me anyway you want - harder, faster, I can do whatever, just show me how, make me, push and fuck me hard until I'm raw and aching - god - like this, let me cum, please, let me - keep fucking going, oh my god, please, like this, fuck, just like this-"

You do thank God, actually - there's mirrors everywhere in this room, and you can catch the circular swing of her tits every time you force a curse and a sigh out of her: the bared teeth and the effort to push herself back on her arms, bracing for every thrust, fighting and fumbling to keep her balance and to make sure you have to pound her into the mattress until her cries reach a pitch.

Then, the thing you'd learned she'd never ask for but oh-so-dearly-wanted - you open your palm and bring it down hard on her backside. The impact of your flesh to hers, a crack, a moan and her whole body flexes - and it's then you do it again: matching the hit to the visible red outline of your handprint. The third time, she hisses, biting into the bed sheets so as not to cry out.

"Right? This is what you want? To be fucked and used?"

She doesn't reply with words, because she may in fact be biting her teeth into the cotton threadcount at the end of the bed, but she lifts her ass higher, angles her hips like she's waiting for more. Her brow is creased in a smile, even though a frustrated groan escapes her lips - so you give her that again, and again, until the back of her thighs are turning red and she's clawing one hand back along the length of your legs - pushing and pulling.

"You want me to fuck you senseless, sweetheart?"

And then, so needy and desperate she's just saying the first word that come to mind:

"More-"

"-when I've been railing into you so hard and your husband probably knows already, has to have seen, maybe he's listening at the door- oh," and your whole train of thought comes to a sudden halt upon seeing Hyewon's hand land on the perfect round of her ass, fingers pulling her soft, reddening skin taut, up and away from where your cock is disappearing between her cheeks - to allow more of your shaft into her hot, wet cunt - allow you to fuck her and fuck her up - allow the length of your shaft to slide deeper and hit all the spots that will send her reeling into this orgasm and the next.

Your gaze is stuck however, not to her curves rippling in excess, the damage of your thrusts pounding her body to ruin, or the look of flawless pleasure twisting up the pretty features of Hyewon's reflection, but instead it's the fucking flash and catch of the diamond that adorns her fourth finger. Even when you have her completely helpless, bent on your mercy, she's still wearing that promise, that intention to have and to hold, and you think, for at least a second, this whole roleplay thing isn't the worst idea: being a surrogate to fulfill someone's wildest fantasies. It might even be enough to make you hard all over again - the thrill and the debasement of your girl, lines quickly blurring between the Hyewon you'll take home and put back together and the Hyewon you're fucking pouding into a mattress - the here and now.

"Fuck, Hyewon," you find yourself swearing - steadying the hips rolling back in your palms, bending down until the flat of your chest meets her back, until your nose is in her hair, the long strands sticking to her lips and the back of her ears. Until you feel her shaking as you suckle against her skin, at her neck, hot kisses between the shoulder blades, finding a grip in her hands. Her grip in yours - as she's muffling these exquisite, needy sounds; she is perfect. Hyewon is perfect.

The first time you cum, it's this hot splatter of white: smeared across her ass and the crease of her lower back. It feels almost dirty to think that's just how you feel about it; your heart is stuttering in its erratic pace, but your eyes are drawn and enraptured, the sight of it all.

Then second, maybe your favorite: when she slips her hand to your aching shaft and simply takes you back inside her. This soft, wet, inviting heat that pulls you back to her.

"God- please," her head tips back, you feel the arch of her back through her ribs and stomach, the way her breath catches as you slide your cock through her creamed-out-cunt so much harder and smoother. "It feels so fucking good, baby," and there are tears now, welling in the corner of her eyes, "don't stop, God don't ever stop-"

She can barely finish her sentence before she's cut off, a moan ripped from the bottom of her lungs and a gasp straight from the pain-pleasure that has your balls slapping against her pussy every other stroke. And suddenly she's sitting, or rather, squirming into your arms, her face buried in your shoulders as she starts riding you, and not-quite crying and saying again - again, the whole filthy lot of things: about her wanting you to fill her, to plug her up with your cock. Every thrust she whines in your ears, clutching onto the fabric of your shirt and making a mess of herself in you.

It's this wild and reckless thing that makes its way around the room, on every surface and bit of furniture. You fuck her over the counter, let her ride you on the sofa, the chair, the two of you managing to find some sort of assistance in the wall even, the door frame, her legs up your sides and the slippery-sticky-heat of your mouths connecting and everything that isn't exactly meant to support that kind of strain buckling and nearly giving way - once when the wooden joints in the door-frame shift, once when she begs for release in that frantic voice that doesn't sound a thing like her. And the way she comes apart under you after, on top of you - is even sweeter; you imagine there's this endless possibility for love, for pleasure, a whole world in bundled in the notion that you could do it for her again, that it was always a question of Hyewon letting you have her that way, and the rest was mere foreplay - a stretch.

Only, on the bed again, Hyewon shivers beneath you, this full-body response, and you've got her stretched as she opens up - that the slightest of movements has her already whimpering out "fuck," and "please," and "right there," and "fuck you're going to make me come like this. You're so good, just fucking," and "more, harder, please, you feel so fucking good-"

The desperation for release is so palpable in her that it's curling into your stomach as your press Hyewon's knees into the points and edges of her shoulders and fold in her half - this perfect angle of leverage. Fucking her like she's yours and no one else's - the absolute delight of her cunt, wet, hot, and desperate to milk you empty - her body quaking at the force of each thrust, and the hungry grind of your hips into hers. Her fingers digging and knotting in the sheets around you until her knuckles pale, and your own grasp on her skin threatens to bruise.

"Inside me," she gasps out, because she can feel that edge just as well as you, "I want you to fill me, just cum inside, God, you always feel so amazing, fuck, like that, cum inside me, cum in me-"

"How could I say no, especially when you ask so sweetly," you tell her, kissing into her smile, "can you take another? Baby, look at me, look into my eyes, yeah? Look right back at me."

Her eyes blink and roll back a bit, almost losing focus and her eyelashes flutter - the creases in her brow, the elegant lines of her face locking up in the overwhelming tension, then, a peak.

And a demand, meekly asking you to fill her up. Until there's nothing left. "Cum," Hyewon moans, "for the love of fuck-"

You push her past her climax until she's practically weeping, sobbing through a litany of nonsense and slurred, unfinished sentences and almost howls, struggling beneath your weight and coaxing her fingers over the surge at the base of your spine. Before a hot liquid mess bursts out of you, into the deepest reach of Hyewon's throbbing cunt - cumming inside her, while you hold her down, not allowing her to move as your hips lock and you're both left groaning in utter agony.

(This was the thing you'd told her once - cumming inside her was almost always worth the effort it took to clean it all back out. You like the possessive aspect of it, maybe the slight humiliation, and more than anything, she'll just melt: once she's gone past the immediate discomfort. If anyone could really learn to get off on feeling a little filthy, it's the two of you. And she knows that too, Hyewon's eager little pout intimates, as she blinks down to watch where the two of you connect.)

You don't say much for the next while. If there's a line where this particular escapade blends back into your normal life, where the Hyewon curled up in the sheets is your own girl and not some half-conceived entity that didn't fit the reality of the rest of the evening, or how you see Hyewon everyday, even then, it’s not clear.

She's utterly boneless - this fragile, dazed thing that runs her palms all the way around her breasts and pulls up her stockings a little further up the line of her hips, as if you weren't going to peel them back and slip them all the way off when you had the wherewithal to handle it. But the strength in her isn't entirely lost either, she looks ready to burst: this air of pride and smugness - victory, right in her grin, which isn't totally surprising. Hyewon usually gets an odd satisfaction out of your participation in whatever hedonistic or obscene thing it is she wants to try.

This was her fantasy - maybe not a deeply rooted or unattainable one, but she'd worked out some kinks of hers and has walked away a far better woman for it, knowing what a sight she is to you. Like this.

"That was... fun," Hyewon eventually says, collecting articles of clothing strewn about the room.

Her shoes are one of two sets in the shoe-rack, but she'll have to look around and under the bed to find her dress. It would probably be some strange level of easy to play dumb and wait until she comes to the conclusion on her own that she should bend down and check down there, but she looks a little too worn out to really be interested in her clothes, more like, ready for the next part.

"We should do it again," her gaze lands, intent, and serious, back to you.

"Which part?" you have to ask, because you're probably still, a little slow on the uptake.

A small laugh, the sly smirk to herself; she knows she has you wrapped so perfectly around her finger, ready to bend to whatever game she can come up with: "whichever part you like."

#hyewon smut #izone smut #izone hyewon smut #kpop smut #male reader #capslocked kinkvember

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endlessthxxghts · 2 months

Text

Time of The Month

New boyfriend!Frankie Morales x afab!gn!reader

Summary: You had a date planned tonight, but your monthly visitor makes an early appearance, wreaking bloody havoc on your plans. W/C: 1k (wow, I'm sticking to my celebration rules for once?) Content warnings: Pics are for aesthetic purposes only!! Mature content, but purely fluff and comfort! Mention of reader having period, but no use of any pronouns or physical or feminine descriptors. Santi gets mentioned! Frankie calls you "cariño" and "baby." Some kissing. Honestly, I think that's it! Please let me know if I missed anything. BLOG RULES MAKE THIS 18+! MDNI.

A/N: This is my response to this request made by @sawymredfox in regard to my 1k follower celebration! I hope this gives you all the fluff and comfort you were hoping for!🥹 Also, shoutout to @javierpena-inatacvest for picking out the pictures above — it matches the comfort vibe perfectly. Thank you, bestie, I love you.💚 Anywho, I hope you enjoy. I'd love to hear what ya guys think. All my love. Xx

MASTERLIST || L'S 1K CELEBRATION

You and Frankie have been seeing each other, officially, for a few months now. And even though you two were friends for a little bit of time before that, there was still a charge of attraction then. So, really, your entire relationship started in the talking stage. So, yeah, your guys’ relationship is relatively new, which is why he’s shaking like a leaf at the prospect of letting himself into your home without you giving him the approval to do so—even if you told him so many times before that it was okay. But when you didn’t answer your phone for the third time in a row, he knew something was off, especially since you two had a little date planned in a few hours.

Putting in the code to your garage—no, he doesn’t have a key…yet—he makes his way through, hitting the button inside to watch it fall shut before he actually enters your home. He’s met with complete silence: all lights off, the television off, no sign of life anywhere.

He calls out your name, voice filled with anxiety. A beat passes, and no answer. He walks deeper inside, slowly making his way to the living room. “Cariño?” He calls out. Still, no answer. He really doesn’t want to invade your privacy like this, but part of him can’t just sit in the unknown. Not when his partner is the most communicative person he’s ever met in his life. No, something is really wrong.

He makes his way to your bedroom. The door is shut, but not all the way—enough for Frankie to see your dimly lit space and smell a plethora of essential oils coming from your room. He gives your door a slight knock before entering, and the view he’s met with sends him in absolute shambles. You’re curled up in your bed, fetal position, cocooned in a thick blanket, and your arms are wrapped around something—holding it tight to your lower belly. A heating pad, he thinks.

Your bedside table houses a glass of water, some painkillers, and some chocolate. Then, it clicks.

You’re on your period.

It’s not like Frankie has never experienced a person being on their period before, and it’s not like he hasn’t seen you on your period before (just last month—duh!). But he has never seen you like this. So weak and fragile. So in pain. God, he hates seeing you in any kind of pain. He would take it all away if he could.

The only reason he’s nervous is because he knows every person who gets their period is different; their needs are different. Unique. Some prefer the warm embrace of another at all times, others prefer complete solitude. Frankie was still learning what you were like during your time of the month, and he just wants to be as accommodating as possible for you. He doesn’t want to make you upset, ever, and definitely not when you’re in such a vulnerable state—ready to either cry or rip him a new asshole. Whatever he would have to experience, though, he would endure it, for you.

Scooting closer to the side of the bed you’re laying on, he slowly kneels, his broad hand feeling your forehead. Warm and a slight layer of sweat from your cocoon and your heat pack. You stir at his touch. “Cariño,” he whispers, trying to get you aware of his presence.

Your eyebrows furrow, a little pout forming, not wanting to wake up. Frankie softly laughs to himself. He brings his face closer to yours, placing a soft kiss to your forehead. “Baby,” he says a little louder this time, still unbelievably gentle.

One eye slowly peels open, the other following suit. “Frankie?” you say with uncertainty, your voice thick with sleep. Your hand leaves its hold on your heat pack to rub the fatigue out of your eyes.

“Hi, honey,” he whispers, his thumb mindlessly caressing your face wherever he can reach.

“B-baby, what are you doing here? I-” you gasp. “Oh, fuck! Baby!” You immediately rip the blanket off of you, scrambling to get yourself to sit up. “Baby, our date! What time is it? I must’ve fallen asleep- I- I’m sor-”

Standing a little taller now on one knee, Frankie stands between your legs, both his hands finding their homes on your cheeks, pulling you to look at him—to ground you. He kisses your nose, a soft say of your name to get your attention.

“Cariño, breathe, it’s okay, we’re okay,” he says softly. “We planned for 7, baby, it’s 5:30.”

He feels your body start to relax, a soft sigh of relief fanning his cheeks. “Oh,” you whisper.

“The question is, though,” he asks, one hand leaving your cheek to rest across your lower belly. “Do you feel okay enough to even leave the house?”

You track his hand before you meet his eyes. “...not really,” you admit.

“That’s oka-”

Cutting him off with a thick sigh, “I’m so sorry, baby, I just ruined tonight. My period has been wonky lately. I was supposed to start tomorrow, but it ended up being a murder scene a few hours ago, and I’ve been in pain ever since. I didn’t even realize how hard I knocked out-”

He pulls your face into his, your lips meeting each other in a soft embrace, stopping your brain from the 5k marathon it was currently running. He pulls away, your cheeks completely hot under his gaze, Frankie mirroring your bashfulness. “I- I’m sorry, I just-” he lets out a breathy laugh. “I don’t need you overthinking with me, cariño. I promise it’s okay. As long as I’m with you, I really don’t care what we’re doing. Okay?”

“Okay,” you respond, eyes tearing up at how sweet your boyfriend is.

“I just want you. I just need you. Nothing else,” he angles your head down to kiss your forehead. “Now what’s my baby craving? I’ll go get it.”

“No-” you immediately reply, clearing your throat to suppress your eager response. “No… just. I don’t want you to leave me.” You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling his kneeling form flush against your sitting one.

“Okay, baby. I’ll just get it delivered then. Pretty sure Santi isn’t doing anything besides being an asshole,” he says, laughing into your neck. “Wanna bother him?”

“Fuck yeah,” you laugh. Frankie beams at the sound.

“¿Qué quieres comer?” What do you want to eat?

“Mmm, can we get…” you trail off, a little shy to indulge. He’s probably hungry and wanting a real meal like what your original plan was for, but here you are, craving nothing but junk and snacks to satiate you tonight.

“Hm? Fries and a chocolate frosty? You want pickles, too, huh? Maybe some mashed potatoes?”

Oh my God. You’re going to fucking marry this man.

“…yes.”

Frankie pulls away from you with a smirk, reaching for his phone to dial up Santi.

Huh. Maybe he already does know you—especially during this time of the month.

End note - I hope this was okay!🥹 There are a few more requests for me to do as part of my celebration!! I'm sorry if it seems like I'm dragging them out lol! Not my intention at all, just trying to balance my excitement with the neediness of school😩 lolol but anyway, I love you all SO MUCH thank you for your endless love.💚

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nyxoz · 2 years

Note

Modern day Eddie request! He ends up fingering you after he catches you sexting a boy while he’s sat right next to you 😈

here you go lovey! i love modern aus they are so so much fun hehe

Eddie Munson x Reader

Reader is afab and uses she/her pronouns

Word count: 2.2k

Warnings: Smut, Vaginal fingering, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Best Friends to Lovers, Modern AU, Sexting, Swearing.

Your phone dings as the movie you and Eddie are watching plays on your living room tv. You admitted to Eddie that you had never seen ‘ The Shining’ and he made you promise that you’d watch it together tonight.

You’re leaning back against the armrest, with your legs lying across Eddie’s thighs. His socked feet are resting on your coffee table and his hands are playing with your anklet.

Your phone dings again and you finally reach for it from the coffee table to check it.

“Don’t get distracted.” Eddie says, eyes still on the screen.

“I can multitask.” You say as you unlock your screen.

“This movie isn’t a multitasking movie, it requires your full attention!” Eddie grabs your foot and shakes it.

You kick at him a bit but don’t reply as you tap to open your messages.

The text is from Jackson Sommers. He’s a guy you’ve hooked up with maybe once or twice. He’s nice, and pretty well endowed if you remember correctly.

Jackson 9:47pm: You up?

You glance up from your phone to look at Eddie and see he’s still very much glued to the tv. He’s now massaging one of your feet absentmindedly. It feels really good.

You 9:49pm: Yeah

Jackson 9:49pm: Come over ;)

You 9:49pm: Got a friend over, can’t sorry.

Jackson 9:50pm: :(

You don’t reply to that and lock your phone, going back to the tv. It takes up until Danny writes Redrum on the bathroom door until your phone dings again.

Jackson 11:43pm: Been thinking about you all night.

You snort at the message. It’s so obvious.

Eddie looks over at you but you ignore him in favour of humouring Jackson.

You 11:43pm: Yeah? What have you been thinking about?

Eddie tugs on your big toe. “Y/N! Watch it.”

“It’s so goddamn long.” You whine out.

“But it’s so goddamn worth it.”

You turn your phone to silent and your brightness way down before you lock your phone, waiting for Jackson’s response. It takes him about two minutes to reply.

You sneakily unlock your phone and open the message, looking up quickly at Eddie’s side profile. His hair is in a bun at the base of his neck and a few strands are hanging around his face. He looks really soft and cute, especially with how his big brown eyes are glued to the television.

You go back to your phone and aren’t really shocked to see a dick pic but still kind of in awe at how fast he sent it.

Jackson 11:45pm: [Image]

Jackson 11:45pm: Thinking about how good you looked with my dick in your mouth.

You can’t help the feeling that travels through your core, that white warmth that you get when you see something you like. And you like Jackson’s cock. It’s a good cock, it especially felt good inside you as he bent you over the vanity in a bathroom at a random house party.

You 11:46pm: That all for me? How’d I get so lucky?

Apparently, Jackson isn’t into foreplay.

Jackson 11:46pm: Show me your tits ;)

You sigh out and quickly look up to make sure Eddie doesn’t hear you and look over to tell you off. Luckily his eyes are still on the tv.

You open your images and scroll through your phone for an old picture you’ve taken of yourself showing your tits. The random nudes you have on your phone are the number one reason no one’s allowed to scroll through your camera roll, not even Eddie.

You select one where you’re laying on your back, and just your breasts and the bottom of your mouth are visible. You’re squeezing one of your breasts, and the other has your nipple pebbled out and pink from being tugged on.

You 11:48pm: [image]

Jackson 11:48pm: Fuck they are so hot. Wish I could have them in my mouth.

You squirm a little at the thought and squeeze your thighs together. Eddie looks over at the movement and you smile at him apologetically and pretend to look back at the movie. Your phone buzzes again and you try not to be too noticeable when you unlock it.

Jackson 11:49pm: Are you touching yourself

You 11:49pm: Yeah

You aren’t. But he doesn’t need to know that. You can feel the wetness a little in your panties and you want to press your thighs together tighter to relieve it a little but you don’t want to risk Eddie noticing.

Jackson 11:50pm: Fuck that’s so hot.

Jackson 11:50pm: Wish you were here. Want to see you bouncing on my cock.

You 11:50pm: Need your cock in me so bad.

Jackson 11:51pm: Want me to fuck you like I did in the back of my car ?

You think back to the last time you hooked up. He had picked you up after your shift at work (Something Eddie usually did), and drove you to lover’s lake so you could ride him in the back of his pickup truck. You remember him kissing your tits and bucking up into you every so often. You had to make yourself come by rubbing your clit, but you didn’t mind too much. You haven’t slept with many men that have made you come themselves, so it wasn’t that unexpected.

You 11:51pm: Yeah. Was so good. Loved feeling your fat cock inside me.

Jackson 11:52pm: I’m getting close

You 11:52pm: I wanna see you come.

Just because you can’t touch yourself now, doesn’t mean you don’t wanna do it later.

Jackson 11:53pm: Want a video?

Jackson 11:53pm: I’ll send one if you tell me what you’re doing to yourself right now.

Before you can reply your phone is snatched out of your hand.

You literally shriek. “Eddie!”

“What’s so important you can’t watch one of my favourite movies?” He questions, looking down at your phone.

You lunge at him and land across his thighs as he leans over the armrest and holds the phone out.

It’s dead silent as he looks at the screen and scrolls up the messages.

You bury your face in his thighs and groan.

“Jackson Sommers, huh?” He finally says.

“Give it back.” You whine and try to reach for your phone again but it’s no use.

You sit up and stare at him with warm cheeks.

He looks at you and then back at the phone again. He hands it back to you.

“Reply to him.” He says.

“No.” You say. “It’s fine, I’ll watch the movie.”

You turn and face the tv, sitting with your back against the back of the couch. You can still see Eddie staring at you from the corner of your eye. After a few seconds, his hand lands on your thigh, just below the hem of your skirt.

“Reply to him.” He says again. “Tell him what you’re doing to yourself.”

You feel the warmth from your cheeks flow down your neck. You’re embarrassed.

“That’s not funny, Eddie.”

“I’m not being funny, Y/N.”

Crossing your arms, you turn your head to look at him. His pupils are dilated and his lips are shiny from where his tongue has traced over them. His hand squeezes your thigh.

“Reply to him.” He says a final time.

Unlocking your phone, you stare at Jackson’s messages again and go to type a reply when you feel Eddie’s hand push further up your thigh, towards your crotch. You pause as you look past your phone screen to his hand.

The tip of his finger traces your clothed cunt.

“What are you doing?” You whisper.

“Tell him what you’re doing to yourself.” He says.

He presses his finger more forcefully against your panties.

“Eddie.” You whimper.

“Tell me to stop and I will.”

You look at him and stay silent, he presses his fingers firmly against you.

“Get to typing.” He says.

Typing out shakingly, you reply to Jackson.

You 11:58pm: Touching myself over my panties.

“Fuck, you’re almost soaked through.” Eddie says as he rubs his fingers along the material.

You 11:58pm: I’m so wet.

Jackson 11:58pm: For me?

No. For Eddie.

You 11:58pm: Yeah

Eddie’s fingers slide over to the side of your panties, tickling along as he does. He pulls them to the side slightly as he wiggles his long fingers underneath.

You whimper quietly.

“Keep texting.” He demands.

His fingers run along your slit, lapping up your juices.

Jackson 11:59pm: What else are you doing

You 11:59pm: Rubbing my fingers through my wet pussy

Jackson 11:59pm: Bet I’d slide in so easy

Just as that message shows up, Eddie’s finger pushes into your entrance.

You gasp as the first knuckle penetrates you. He pushes his finger up and slides along your wet walls. He fucks you a few times with one finger before adding a second.

“Don’t forget Jackson.” Eddie reminds you as he curls his fingers meanly.

You 12:00am: I’m fingering myself

Jackson 12:00am: You wish it was my fingers?

You don’t. Not one bit.

Eddie looks over the screen and snickers.

You 12:00am: Yeah.

His two fingers start fucking harder into you, pressing along your spongy walls. You can’t help dropping your head back and moaning.

Your legs have opened wide for Eddie, giving him as much access as possible. Your head rolls along the back of the couch to watch him, his eyes are fixated on his fingers disappearing into you, and you can’t help but notice the bulge pressing against the zipper of his jeans.

He stops fucking you just to slide his fingers up to your clit and rub firmly against it.

“Fuck!“ your eyes squeeze shut, “Eddie!” You moan.

“Yeah, say my name.” He whispers.

Opening your eyes, you see him staring back at you. His cheeks are red and his hair is still framing his face deliciously. You want to pull the rest of his hair from the bun.

He keeps rubbing at your clit as he leans in a bit closer, you think he’s going to kiss you.

“Jackson’s waiting.” He smiles.

You moan again and bring your phone up to your face.

Jackson 12:01am: What else?

You 12:03am: Rubbing my clit, feels so good

Jackson 12:03am: I’m so close baby

Eddie starts rubbing a little faster against your clit and your phone slips from your hand and you reach to grab onto something. You land on Eddie’s other arm, holding on for dear life as he toys with your clit.

“You’re such a dirty little slut.” Eddie says. “Sexting right next to your best friend? Fucking filthy.”

“M’sorry.” You mumble.

His fingers come down to tease your entrance again.

“No, you’re not.”

You shake your head not really sure if you’re disagreeing with him or not.

“C’mon, you wanted this.” He says.

He pushes three fingers into you this time and you squeak out a gasp.

“You wanted to be caught.” He continues, “wanted to see what I would do.”

His fingers stretch you out and you relish in the subtle burn they give you.

“ Eddie .”

You mewl and cry as he keeps fucking his fingers into you, searching for that spot inside you that makes your stomach dip and your toes curl. He slides across it, making you gasp.

“You’re making such a mess.” He says.

You can feel your arousal dripping down your crack, making a wet patch on the couch. His movements sound slick and wet each time he presses into you.

“Bet you taste so fucking good.” He pulls his fingers out of you and you whine at the loss.

Your eyes follow his fingers as they come up to his lips and he sucks them clean.

“Mhhhhm, yeah I was right.”

Your skin rises with goosebumps as you watch him, you’ve never been so turned on in your life.

His hand comes back down to your cunt and he slips back into your panties to your clit. He laps up the wetness slicking you up and continues circling your nub.

Your whole body slides toward him, your face now pressing into his chest near his collarbone. You’re on fire, you can feel the white warmth growing hotter in your core. You’re so close and Eddie can tell by how you’re gasping against him.

“You gonna come on my fingers?” Eddie asks into your hair.

You nod against him, your face smushed into his shirt. You breathe him in, he smells like home to you, like nicotine, body wash, and a smell so specific to Eddie you don’t know what to call it. You wish you could bottle it up for later.

His movements become faster and you cry out as the feeling in your tummy explodes and you come with a groan.

“That’s it. Good girl.” He whispers, slowing down as he milks your orgasm from you.

The strands of hair that frame his face tickle at your ear as he presses the side of his head against you. He breathes you in quietly as you lay against him.

After a little while you sit up straight and Eddie removes his hand from your panties and wipes them on his pants. You try to straighten up as best you can and look up at the tv to see Jack smashing down a door with an axe.

“This scene is iconic!” Eddie exclaims.

Your phone buzzes and you pick it up only for Eddie to grab it from you.

“Hey!” You say.

“What’s good ol’ Jackson got to say now.” He asks.

He laughs as he looks at the message and holds up the screen to you.

Jackson 12:10am: [video]

Jackson 12:10am: Did you cum ?

You roll your eyes at him and grab your phone to tap out a response.

You 12:10am: Yes.

Part Two

#eddie munson #modern!eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #joseph quinn #oz writes #oz writes eddie munson #nxyoz

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