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spookysteddie · 5 months

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The Very First Date

Modern!Steve Harrington x college!fem!reader

Part two to "lemon drop martini" ... Read part one here

18+ MINORS DNI

desc: you finally call Steve for that first date. And it goes better than you imagined

cw: alcohol mention (reader is not in the slightest drunk), slight Dom!Steve, cocky!Steve begging, pet names (baby, sweetheart, angel), unprotected sex, p in v, creampie. (let mw know if I missed anything)

wc: 2.8k

a/n: I hope y'all enjoy this! based off of this ask who asked me for a part two a while ago (I am so sorry). My writers block has lifted after like a year and here we are! So expect more fics soon!

...

Three days.

You’d waited three days before calling the number on the napkin.

Well that’s a lie. You actually called the number the next day (after eating a greasy meal, drinking a shit ton of water, and downing some aspirin… nothing like a hangover) from your roommate Alixs phone. But the second he answered, you hung up very fast.

Alix, of course, called you a little baby back bitch and told you that you needed to call him. That it’d be nice to have some perks around your little college town.

You rolled your eyes at the sentiment.

To say you were nervous talking on the phone with him would be an understatement, in fact you were shitting myself. Scared he’d be able to hear it in your voice how nervous you were. Or, worse, that he wouldn’t remember you.

Four days ago:

“This is Steve Harrington speaking. How can I help you?”

You took a deep breath, putting a smile on your face in the hopes it’ll translate through the telephone.

“Hi, Steve. I-it’s y/n. From the bar the other night.” You cringe at the slight stutter and the wave in your voice. “You gave me your number on the napkin.”

You can practically hear the smile in his voice, coolness seeping from his voice, “lemon drop martini girl. Of course I remember you, sweetheart.”

You quietly sigh in relief that he remembers.

“Oh good! I’m sorry for not calling sooner. I was a little hung over and then I had to study and take exams. Finals season.” You laugh awkwardly, cursing yourself for rambling and making a fool out of yourself. Alix would be rolling her eyes.

Steve laughs on the other end of the line, “ah yes. I hated finals. Very frustrating. Hence why I dropped out, much to my fathers dislike.”

One thing about you is that you love oversharing. But you love when other people overshare even more. There’s nothing like bonding over a trauma dump.

You giggle into the phone which makes Steve giggle too, the sound mimicking a sweet song. All you want to make him do it again.

“Anyway, sweetheart, I was wondering if you had plans for Friday night?” His tone is cool and relaxed. You could only wish to sound like that.

Your heart pounds in your chest, words failing you for a moment. “Oh! Um, nothing actually.”

“Perfect. Hows ‘bout you and I go on a little date? I know a great place. Kinda fancy. What do you say?”

You could kick your feet like a little girl at the prospect of going out with him. You, also, are tempted to make him wait. To give him just a little bit of a hard time. It was what you'd usually do to the men you like. But there was something in the back of your mind begging you not to.

“I-I would like that, Steve.”

“Great! I’ll pick you up at 7. Give you time to study and get ready. Take a nap even.”

…

“I can’t do this. I can’t go. I mean, fuck, I have nothing to wear.”

Nothing to wear was an understatement. You could hardly see the floor of your bedroom, clothes littering it with only a small path for where you keep walking from the mirror to your closet.

Alix sits on your bed, drinking some wine and eating some popcorn. “I liked the black leather. I don’t know why you won’t just wear that one. You look hot in it.”

You slide your hands down the front of the blue, sequence dress you have on. “I just feel like that’s not enough. And isn’t it a little … short for a dress for a nice restaurant?”

Alix shrugs, “I mean, probably but who cares. You look hot.” She sips her wine and says again, “well you look hot in everything.”

You look over at her, “while that’s sweet, he’s going to be here in fifteen minutes and I need a few shots to calm my nerves so help me pick a dress, please.”

She rolls her eyes at my dramatics, downing her wine. “I think you should wear the short black one you wore two weeks ago. Not the leather one, the velvet one. Makes your ass look great. Oh with your Louboutins! You spent a lot of money on them and have worn them once. It’s a sin.”

One thing is for sure, you did spend a lot of money on them, charging them to your dads credit card.

One change and two shots of vodka later, you were walkin down the steps of your condo to an awaiting Steve. He’s in dark jeans, a black t-shirt and a gray jacket. His hair is just as perfect as the last time you saw him. (which was via instagram… gotta do the research right?)

He whistles long and low as you approach, and in a quick stroke of confidence you decide to do a little spin. He claps slowly as you face him and so, you bow. Just slightly so you don’t accidentally flash him. Not the way you want to start this date.

“Well hello to you too, Harrington,” you say as you smirk.

He slips his hand in his pockets, a smirk on his lips that you feel right between your legs. “You look very pretty tonight, sweetheart. I mean you’d look pretty in a potato sac but,” he shrugs. “We should get going.”

You smile and nod at him.

And the bar is clearly in fuckin hell, because him opening the door for you makes you want to jump his bones. But then again, no man has ever opened a door for you so… we can let it slide.

“Such a gentleman.” “Chivalry is not dead sweetheart.”

…

Steve is very thoughtful. Sure, he asked all the usual questions you ask on a first date.

What’s your major?

Do you have any siblings?

What do your parents do for work?

Oh, your dad is in sales? Funny mine too.

He gives you guilt money? Mine too! Look at us

He also, orders you and him a bottle of wine (he has great taste) but lets you order your own meal (again the bar is in fucking hell). The place he takes you to is nice and the food is the best food you’ve had since you left home after summer break.

“So Steve, what made you decide to open up a bar in town?” You eat a spoonful of dessert, eyes never leaving his.

He takes a spoonful of his own dessert. “I was sick of working for everyone else. I knew if I made a unique bar, something you and your friends have never seen, others would want to check it out. Then you’d tell all your friends, who’d tell their friends, etc.” He grins as he talks, keeping eye contact with you.

It felt like a game of ‘who is going to look away first.’ A game you weren’t going to lose. Slowly, you pull the spoon out of your mouth, dipping it back in to your dessert. “Interesting. Great concept if you ask me.”

He huffs a small laugh through his nose, “I’m glad you enjoyed my bar.”

You scrunch your brows, the wine making you bold, “who said I enjoyed it?”

Now he really laughs, “you seemed to really enjoy all those lemon drop martinis. So much so you had a hangover the next day. I tried giving you waters but you threatened to gut me.”

Your jaw hangs open, “fibber.”

“I haven’t been called a fibber since I was a kid,” he smiles. “But yes you did tell me you would gut me. And then you left and I thought I’d never hear from you again.”

You can’t help but feel slightly guilty inside for not calling sooner. Well, you did call sooner but chickened out.

“And here we are.”

“Yes, here we are.”

He seems to think for a moment, sipping his wine (one he ordered that would go well with the dessert. He was right.)

“Wanna get out of here, sweetheart?” He looks up at you through his lashes, tongue rolling down the inside of his cheek.

He wasn't… demanding. You knew without a shadow of a doubt that you could turn him down. That he would take you home with a smile on his face. There would be no fuss, no fight, no name calling. No pressure.

And for that very reason, with a smile on your pretty face you answer him, “yours or mine?”

…

You’re not even through the door of his apartment before his mouth is on yours, his large hands on your face. The kiss starts soft, testing the waters and it isn’t very long before you deepen it. Your tongues dance but there is no fight for dominance, you let him win. You want him to win.

His lips trail over your jaw before slowly moving down your neck, gently nipping at your skin.

“Such a pretty girl,” he says in between kisses.

He sucks a bruise into your shoulder, easy to cover up, just in case. You let out a soft moan, hands coming up to tug at his hair.

“You-you’re pretty too.”

You can feel him grin against you, head lifting as his body cages you in, “I don’t think anyone has ever called me pretty. Well besides Eddie but that was mocking.”

You laugh, moving in and kissing him slowly, sweetly, “you are a very pretty boy.”

You can feel his hard dick jerk at the sentiment, and you keep it as a mental note. You know, just in case you need it.

“Fuck, can’t say shit like that.”

“No? Why not?”

“Cause it makes my cock hard. And it’ll be very embarrassing if I cum in my pants. Can't ruin my reputation.” The smirk on his face makes you almost pass out. You swear to God you can feel every word in your core.

“Hmmm, we can’t have that can we?” You push his jacket off his shoulders before running your hands down to the hem of his shirt. “Should take me to bed so we don’t risk you cumin’ early.”

It’s all the permission he needs. His lips are back on yours, his hands under your ass and picking you up. You wrap your legs around his waist, hands in his hair as he carries you to the bed.

He puts you down gently, his lips never leaving yours. Not for a moment. Not until he pulls away to tug his shirt over his head. You take the moment to take him in, his body lithe and toned. You also can’t help noticing the scars on his side that look a little like bite marks. Bite marks from something that isn’t human, something you make a mental note to ask him about at a later date.

“Sculpted from marble, god damn.” You don’t mean to say it out loud, never wanting to stroke a man's ego.

Steve just grins as he finds the zipper on the side of your dress, pulling it down slowly down, his knuckles slowly touching your skin, leaving goosebumps in his wake. You shiver under the touch and he notices. You’re quickly learning that Steve notices everything.

It isn’t long before he’s pulling the dress down your body, leaving you in only your underwear. Underwear that barely covers you, a wet patch on full display. If it was anyone else, you’d be embarrassed.

“Are you this wet for me?” His tone is mocking and he’s practically cooing at you, “go on. Answer me.”

Your eyes widen. Men have been demanding in the bedroom, plenty of them thinking they’re little tough guys. But none of them get that from you, none of them deserving. You’re not sure why you want to give that to him. You’re not sure what makes him different. And honestly, that is a problem for future you to talk about in therapy.

“Yes,” you reply, voice a little higher than usual. “S’all for you.”

The smirk he gives you makes your heart speed up. “Such a sweet, pretty thing. God, I want to devour you.”

His lips move to your chest, sucking a peaked nipple into his mouth. You can’t help but arch into his mouth, a small moan falling from your lips, his hand coming to play with your neglected breast. And it isn’t long before he swaps sides, his teeth nipping and sucking.

“Please. More.”

He laughs, moving to oblige you and kissing down your sternum before settling between your legs. “May I?”

Him asking makes your heart stutter in your chest, “yes. God yes. Please.”

Steve tugs your underwear down your legs, tossing them to meet the rest of the clothes on the floor. “I think I could get used to praying to me.”

He doesn’t give you time to answer before he licks up your cunt, stopping at the top to suck on your clit. The moan that comes out of you is loud and you’re thankful the windows are closed. “Fuck, Steve!”

He pushes a finger inside of you, curling them to reach the spongy spot inside you. “And you moaning my name is even better. Why don’t you do it again, angel”

He pushes another finger inside you, the burn causing you to grip his hair. “Steve please!”

“Please what, sweetheart?”

He moves his fingers faster, continuing to hit your sweet spot over and over again. His mouth moves to your clit, sucking gently. He keeps his eyes on you, observing, listening to every sweet moan and sigh that comes out of you. He files them away in his brain so he never forgets what drives you crazy.

“Need to… I-I need”

He sucks hard before pulling back, “need what? Go on, use your words.”

You gasp, “to cum. I- please.”

Begging wasn’t what you did for men. If anything, they begged you. Begged you to let them cum.

Steve doesn’t say a word, just grins and uses his free hand to press on your stomach. That is your undoing. “Steve!” You pulse around his fingers, breath getting caught in your chest. You feel warm all over, head emptying as he works you through it.

“That’s it baby. That’s a good girl. Bet that feels so good doesn’t it?”

You try to answer, you really do. But all you can manage is a small nod.

“Gonna let me fuck you?”

Again, you can only manage a nod.

“That’s my girl.”

And before you can even process his words, he flips you over on your stomach, hands pulling your hips in the air. You’re on full display for him. He can see everything. But you couldn't care less, all you want is him inside you.

And you get your wish. He moves slow, making sure he doesn’t hurt you. He’s big and you can feel every inch of him stretching you. It’s a tight fit even with how wet you are.

“Holy shit this pussy is amazing baby. Squeezing me so tight.”

His other hand braces himself by your head before dropping down to his forearms. He’s so close to you now, inside and out, his hips moving slowly so you adjust to him, and his breath fanning across your face.

“F-faster. Faster.” Your hands rake down his back, nails digging into his back, making him hiss.

He snaps his hips faster, grinning down at you. “Just so needy huh?”

You nod feverishly, “yes. F-feels so fucking good.”

He laughs at you now, kisses you. “Such a dirty mouth, baby. Pretty girls aren’t supposed to swear.”

“Says-says you… swear all the time. L-like a sailor.”

He hums. “Dirty mouth for a dirty fuckin girl.”

“That-that’s me.”

He fucks you faster and you feel like coil growing tighter and tighter inside you. You wrap your legs around his waist, not wanting him to get too far away. He groans and you can tell he’s close.

“Want… no need you to cum inside me. I’ll d-die if you don’t,” you beg. You know you’ll probably regret it in the morning, all that you’ve said here in this bedroom. But at the moment you can’t find it inside you to care. Mainly because he was taking up every inch of you.

“Yeah? Need it? I’ll give it to you baby. Will give you anything you want.”

And it’s all you need to fall over the edge, walls clenching around him so hard he falls with you. A mutual “fuck!” falls from both your and his lips.

You're both panting as you come down from the high. He pushes your hair out of your face and kisses you sweetly. Suddenly Steve is giggling, his head falling into the crook of your neck.

“What? Why are you laughing?” you ask with just a little bit of worry.

“I am so fucking glad you ordered a lemon drop martini.”

#stranger things #steve harrington #stranger things fic #Steve Harrington smut #Steve Harrington x reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x fem!reader #Steve Harrington fic #steve harrington imagine #steve x reader

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kwanisms · 1 year

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Kinkuary 01 Yunho — Size kink // praise

➥ big d!ck bf!Yunho × tiny girlfriend!Reader summary: Yunho is big and strong and likes to play rough and manhandle his tiny girlfriend. wc: 4.2k (whew! Half of that is smut 🥴) warnings: afab reader, adult dialogue, sexual content (minors dni!): oral (f receiving), fingering (she's gonna need it to take his monster c•ck), unprotected sex (use protection! Yunho and MC use the pull out method), praise (good girl, you're doing so well, etc), size kink (so reader is noticeably smaller than Yunho and he comments on it), Yunho cums on the readers stomach and licks it clean so cum eating ig, slight strength kink, some manhandling, reader loves Yunho's hands, monster c•ck Yunho, and I think that's all. pls let me know if I missed anything Permanent taglist: @yoonguurt @candidupped Kinkuary full taglist: @baldi-2 @wonderfulshinee @lacie220900 @sup-dallyboy Ateez taglist: @2hodefender @babyhailey819 @foxylilbitch MINORS WILL BE BLACKLISTED & BLOCKED. Join the taglist!

a/n: this is a bit self indulgent as I am tiny compared to yunho and I want him to manhandle me and use his size and strength against me. This is also for @yoonguurt and my fellow size kink enthusiasts. As always, this is a work of fiction and all characters are not reflective of their respective irl counterparts. for entertainment purposes only. banner made by me. I do not allow reposts or translations of my works. All my works are ©️ kwanisms.

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Your favorite thing about Yunho was how big he was compared to you. He was so tall, just over 6 feet tall, with broad shoulders and large hands. He easily towered over you.

Yunho's favorite thing about you was how tiny you were next to him. He loved it when you wore his shirts as they fit you like dresses, the hem coming down to the middle of your thighs. You looked so small and cute in his clothes.

Your second favorite thing about Yunho was that he was strong. Strong enough to lift you easily, throw you over his shoulder or just lift you onto the kitchen counter.

He also liked to throw you onto the bed. And you loved it when he did that.

Flipping through the channels of the TV proved fruitless as you found nothing decent or interesting to watch so you decided to put the TV on the channel where Music Bank was being broadcasted and settled into the cushions to eat your dinner and hopefully catch a glance of your massive boyfriend.

It didn't take long for ATEEZ to show up on stage, performing their newest title track. You watched Yunho as much as the cameramen allowed, smiling as he performed.

He was an incredible dancer, something you'd always admired about him. The way he moved and how easily the music seemed to flow through him was mesmerizing. You loved every second of it.

Of course, in watching him dance, the way his body moved always got your insides burning as your imagination tended to run wild.

You scarfed down the rest of your lasagna and watched the rest of their stage with rapt attention. Your eyes followed Yunho across the stage as the song continued. Although the camera would focus on the other members, you could only see your boyfriend.

It was during one part of the performance when the choreography had them hip thrust that your mind was made up. He'd unintentionally created this problem (the problem being in your panties) and when he came home, he'd fix it.

ATEEZ finished their performance to tumultuous applause and cheers which you unashamedly added to in the comfort of your own home. and the show slowly came to an end, you checked the time and hoped Yunho would be home soon.

Deciding to distract yourself, you chose to clean up, do the dishes, wipe down the counters, anything you could do to pass the time until your boyfriend came home.

You tried not to look at the time, hoping if you ignored it, time would move just a little faster.

You knew after music shows, the guys would head back to the KQ building, clean up, probably grab some food and relax for a while. Yunho was nothing if not consistent when it came to these little rituals and no more than three hours after the show ended, he sent you a text.

Puppy Hubby ♥️💕: hey angel. We just got done eating. Have you eaten? I'll bring you something if you haven't. I'm about to leave so I'll be there soon. I love you ♥️

You quickly finished what you were working on and ran to your shared bedroom to put your plan into action. You rushed around, throwing off your plain pajamas in favor of something more… alluring.

You pulled off your white cotton panties and searched through your drawer for a pair you knew Yunho would love and slid those on.

Snatching one of Yunho's tees, you pulled it on over your head and let it fall to your thighs before slipping on some of your favorite thigh highs and heading back out into the living room to wait for Yunho.

You sat on the couch, jumping at every sound, your heart pounding over the sound of the clock on the wall ticking each second as it slipped by.

Finally you heard the sound of beeping at the door and quickly scrambled, grabbing the remote and turning the TV on before Yunho had a chance to open the door. A commercial for fried chicken played on the screen as Yunho finally managed to open the door and stumble in. You glanced over and saw he was carrying a huge black duffel bag and a small black plastic bag.

He leaned against the door to shut it as he struggled to pull his trainers off before finally letting the duffel bag drop to the ground and untying his laces.

With one shoe off, he stood up, leaning his back against the wall, his eyes found yours and he immediately perked up, a smile spreading across his face.

"Baby!" he said as he tore off his other shoe, grabbed the duffel bag and hurried over to the couch, dropping the bag at the end of the sofa and sitting beside you, setting the plastic bag on the coffee table before he engulfed you in his warm embrace.

"I didn't think you were still up," he said breathlessly as he hugged you tightly, peering kisses all over your face, making you giggle. You smiled as he pulled back and quickly stood to unzip his coat and moved to put it away, tripping over the duffle bag.

You hid a laugh as he cursed and kicked the bag before returning to your side. His eyes fell onto what you were wearing and you could have sworn you saw his eyes darken momentarily before he plopped down next to you, resting his arm on the couch behind you.

"I wasn't sure if you'd eaten, so I brought you something," he said, gesturing to the plastic bag. You smiled, turning to look at him.

"You're always so thoughtful," you replied, getting to your feet and grabbing the bag. You took it to the kitchen, not aware of the way his eyes followed your figure or the way he licked his lips at the sight of you in nothing but his shirt and some thigh highs.

As you came back to the sofa, your eyes roamed his body as well. He was wearing a plain black tee and some gray sweatpants. If you didn't know your boyfriend better, you'd think he was trying to seduce you because he knew you loved it when he wore sweatpants. Especially the gray ones.

You moved to sit beside him but Yunho was faster, grabbing you by the waist and forcing you to sit on his lap instead of the cushion.

You let out a tiny surprised "oh" as you fell onto him but immediately melted against him as his arms wrapped around your waist and buried his face into your chest.

"You must be exhausted," you murmured, stroking his hair and smiling as he relaxed into your touch. "Mhm," he mumbled, the sound rumbled from his chest and you continued to stroke his hair, massaging his scalp as only you could do for him.

The stylists usually did this to promote hair growth but no one could do it the way you did. Yunho often asked you to massage his scalp after he had his hair dyed because he loved the way your fingers worked against his scalp. He loved the way your nails dragged against his skin and the slight tugs you gave him that almost had him groaning at the feeling.

It was no secret between the two of you Yunho loved to be rough and manhandle you but he liked it when you were rough back. He loved it when you pulled his hair and bit him as he fucked you senseless.

You could feel him start to grow hard under you as you massaged his scalp, tugging on his hair and raking your nails over his skin.

Yunho shifted you so you were straddling his lap, his face now pressed into your neck as you continued to massage him.

You tried to act innocent and like his hands sliding over your body wasn't affecting you but you'd be lying if you said you weren’t completely soaking your panties as his large hands grabbed your ass and slid down to caress your thighs.

You let out a sigh as you felt Yunho's mouth move against the skin of your throat, kissing, nipping, and licking. You tilted your head to the side, giving him more to explore as your hands continued to tug his hair. Yunho finally let out a groan, his hips bucking up into you and grinding his hard cock against your wet panties.

"Mm, fuck," you moaned, moving your own hips to chase his and grind down against him again.

You let out a gasp as Yunho’s hands grabbed your hips, guiding them to grind over his cock again. "You have no idea what you do to me, sweetheart, do you?" he asked, pushing you back slightly so he could look you in the eyes.

His own were dark, pupils blown and clouded with an animalistic desire to ruin you, his tiny girlfriend.

"I think I have some idea," you whispered, grinding down against him again and watching as his eyes fluttered shut, lips parting as a moan came out. His head fell back against the cushions as you continued to grind on him, the material of your panties sticking to you, pressing against your clit.

"Yunnie," you whimpered, sinking your teeth into your bottom lip as you chased your orgasm.

Yunho's hands stopped you, grabbing your waist and lifting you slightly. "Nuh-uh," he said, shaking his head. "Not like this."

Before you could answer, Yunho had stood, throwing you over his shoulder and started carrying you to your shared bedroom.

Once inside, he hastily deposited you on the bed and reached for his drawstring, fingers stilling as he looked down and then back up with a devilish smirk.

"You made quite the mess, baby," he said as he slowly untied the drawstring of his pants, watching you watch him through heavy lids.

"Spread your legs for me," he said, moving his hands to your knees and encouraging you to move.

You did so slowly, parting your thighs and showing him the absolutely soaked through cloth that adorned your aching core.

Yunho tutted, moving one hand down between your thighs and running his thumb over the wet fabric. "My sweet little angel is all wet," he said softly, switching to two fingers as he dragged them back up, sending a shiver up your spine.

"This can't be comfortable," he added, hooking a finger under the material and pulling it back slightly, exposing your wet slit to the cool air.

"Is it uncomfortable, baby?" he asked, his fingers barely brushing against your hole. You nodded silently, looking up at him with pleading eyes asking him to remove your panties.

"Then let's just get rid of them, yeah?" he asked, leaning over and towering over you as he stood beside where you lay on your back.

You nodded as his hands moved, starting at your knees and sliding up the tops of your thighs before moving them to the sides of your hips and hooking his fingers under the waistband of your panties.

He maintained eye contact as he slowly pulled the fabric down, pulling the wet crotch away from your heat and sliding them further down your thighs, still as slowly as possible and smearing your arousal down the inside of your thighs.

You had no idea exactly how wet you had gotten earlier but it was apparent now that you were drenched.

Once your panties had been removed and discarded, Yunho's hands were back on your knees, pushing your legs apart and pushing them back slightly to expose your core to him.

Your eyes watched as he tore his gaze from your face to look between your thighs and he bit his lip, holding back the urge to groan at the sight of your slick skin and tiny hole waiting to be filled.

"Goddamn, is this all for me, tiny girl?" he asked, glancing back up to meet your gaze. You nodded again. "Yes," you managed to squeak out. "It's all for you," you added.

Yunho's smirk returned as his hands slid up the inside of your thighs and stopped just before your sex. "Fuck, I can't wait to ruin this pretty little pussy," he muttered, drawing his bottom lip between his teeth. His words had your walls clenching around nothing, prompting you to wiggle your hips, begging for something.

"Please, Yunho," you whispered, looking up at him through your lashes. "Please touch me."

The sound Yunho let out sounded somewhere between a moan and a growl as he dropped to his knees beside the bed, pulling your hips to the edge of the mattress and started pressing slow, deliberate kisses along the inside of your thigh, moving closer and closer to your core only to pass over it and spread kisses along the inside of your other thigh.

You let out a whine, one hand moving to brush your boyfriend’s hair back before settling on his cheek, prompting him to look up at you from between your thighs.

The hungry look in his eyes had heat spreading throughout your body. You wanted nothing more than for him to dive in and abuse your clit with his tongue but you knew he was a man of patience and liked to take his time with you and that's exactly what he was going to do.

When he finally tore his gaze from your face, it was to press light, feathery kisses on either side of your sex before his tongue slipped between your lips, finding your clit and immediately swirling around it in slow, even circles.

His light touches from before paired with the teasing kisses to your thighs made your body sensitive to every lick and flick of his tongue against the sensitive nub, your thighs threatening to close on his head. Thankfully, Yunho was much stronger and kept your thighs in place while he continued toying and teasing your clit and slit.

Your fingers combed through Yunho’s hair as he looked up at you with a heavy lidded stare. His fingers toyed with your entrance before finally pushing one finger in slowly, making you hiss at the intrusion, legs spreading further for him. “That’s it baby,” he breathed. “Such a good girl for me.”

You mewled, words failing as his finger continued to pump in and out of you slowly, his tongue dragging over your clit again. “You gonna cum for me?” He asked softly, chuckling when you nodded with a whine.

“Fuck, angel, you’re doing so well,” he murmured, teasing your clit with the tip of his tongue before sucking on it. Your thighs shook, a small cry sounding from the back of your throat as he added a second finger, lightly scissoring them, preparing you to take his cock. He learned from past experience you needed a decent amount of prep before he could even get the head in.

The lewd sounds coming from between your thighs had your skin heating up, a blush blossoming over your cheeks with every squelch. “Yunhooo,” you whined, drawing out his name.

You heard him chuckled, his hot breath fanning over your wet core. “You’re so wet for me, little one,” he muttered, fingers pistoning into you at a much quicker pace. “I can’t wait to split you open.”

A shiver ran down your spine at his words, walls gripping his fingers tightly as you imagined it was his huge cock instead. Yunho cursed under his breath, watching the way his fingers disappeared inside you.

“Think you can take another one?” He asked, looking up past your rising and falling chest as you struggled to breathe evenly. Without letting you answer, he added a third finger, hissing as your soaking cunt sucked him in, his tongue back on your clit as he continued to finger fuck your hole.

“Shit, ‘m gonna cum” you moaned, back arching as you felt the tension build in your lower abdomen, like a rubber band being pulled back until it snapped and you came with a whine, muttering your boyfriend’s name as your hips moved, riding out your high as it washed over you.

Yunho removed his fingers, more than willing to let you use his tongue, flattening it as you rode out the waves of your orgasm until your body shuddered and he pulled away, chin and lips coated in your arousal.

You blinked up at him as he climbed onto the bed, hovering over your small frame, dipping down to kiss you, his tongue slipping into your mouth and allowing you to taste yourself.

“Come here,” he purred, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you up easily, scooting you further back on the bed. “As much as I love seeing you in my clothes, little one, let’s take this off, shall we?” He said softly, fingers skimming your hips as he grabbed the fabric of the shirt you’d stolen.

You said up, allowing him to slip it off and drop it off the bed onto the floor. He’d clean up later.

You laid back against the sheets now completely bare as Yunho kneeled between your thighs, his large hands holding your waist and pulling you against him, pressing his hard on against you. You pouted, looking up at your large boyfriend who merely smiled at your pout.

“What’s wrong, little one?” he cooed, peering down at you as his hands moved, sliding up your body until he cupped your chest, thumb brushing over your hardened nipples. “You’re still wearing clothes,” you murmured, hands reaching out to brush against his stomach over the plain tee he wore.

He chuckled softly, moving his hand to take yours, marveling at the sheer difference in size.

He ducked his head down, turning your hand over in his and pressing a kiss to your palm. “Do you want me to take this off?” He asked, grabbing the hem of his shirt with his other hand, his smile widening as you nodded.

“Oh, alright, baby,” he cooed and released your hand, grabbing the back of his collar and pulling his shirt off easily, discarding it on the floor.

Your eyes roamed his body from his broad shoulders down his chest to his tummy where you could see the start of a trail of hair leading down past the waistband of his sweats. Your eyes raised back up to meet his gaze, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth as a smirk formed on his lips.

“You like what you see?” He asked softly, leaning over, rolling his hips into yours, pressing his erection into your wet heat. You nodded, not trusting your voice to speak. “You wanna see more?” He whispered, lips ghosting over yours, chuckling when you moaned and nodded again.

He pulled back, settling back on his heels as he kneeled between your thighs. His hands moved to the waistband of his sweats, thumbs hooking under the material and pushing them down along with his boxers.

He moved slowly, maintaining eye contact as a way to tease you. You started to get impatient, moving to push your foot against his hip. “Baby~” you mewled. “Don’t tease.”

Yunho’s smirk spread and he pushed his pants down quickly, his cock springing free. You barely had time to look as he moved to discard his sweats and underwear but was back between your legs quickly.

You licked your lips as he hooked his arms under your knees, pulling your body flush with his before guiding his cock to lay against your stomach. “I know I ask this every time,” he said in a husky voice, looking down at his length resting against you, almost reaching your navel. “But you sure you can take all of this, angel?”

You glanced down at his cock, moving your hand to take it in your hand and making him hiss at the contact.

You could only give him a couple good strokes before he took your hand, grabbing both wrists in one hand and pinning them to the mattress. “Yes,” you squeaked. “I can take it.”

Your words paired with the way you looked up at him had his heart pounding, the animalistic urge to just ram his cock into you and fuck you until you went dumb came over him but he managed to resist.

This time.

Instead, he pulled back slightly, guiding the tip of his cock to your waiting slit. Your body shuddered as he rubbed against your folds, pressing against your clit lightly before he slowly started to sink into your cunt.

On instinct, you spread your legs wider to accommodate him as he leaned further over you.

Your lips parted as a moan slipped out, each inch he gave you stretching you out. It didn’t matter how many times you took his cock, it was always still a task to get the whole length inside you.

Yunho paused, hand still pinning your wrists above your head, the other hand moving to brace his weight so he wouldn’t crush you against the mattress. “Fuuuuuck,” he hissed, eyes fluttering shut as your walls squeezed him, enticing him in further. He had to take a few breaths, trying to regain his composure. His cock twitched, threatening to blow his load immediately.

It didn’t matter how many times he gave you his cock, you were still just as tight as the first time he fucked you.

“Yunnie, please,” you whimpered, hips rolling up to meet his, allowing him to slide in further. “Please, more.”

The way you looked under him, so small and already looking so fucked out, spurred him. He pressed further into you, sliding in with ease thanks to your earlier orgasm and his prep work.

It only took a few more moments until he was buried fully inside you. “Fuck me,” he groaned, cock twitching as you squeezed around him. His eyes dropped, falling onto the slight bulge just under your belly button.

“Would you look at that,” Yunho chuckled, moving his free hand to press down on it. You let out a moan, pussy clenching his length and drawing a moan from him. “Keep doing that and I won’t be able to hold back,” he hissed. You whimpered, thighs tightening around his hips. “Don’t hold back, Yunnie,” you cooed, raising your hips, trying to fuck yourself on him.

Yunho released your wrists, placing both hands on the mattress and pulling out slightly, only to thrust back into you, making you cry out as your body shifted up the sheets from the force.

Yunho chuckled darkly, his hands gripping your hips as he held you still, pulling back and thrusting into you again. “Oh, fuck,” you cursed, your own hands moving to grab his wrists.

“Keep going,” you moaned. “Don’t stop.”

Obliging your request, Yunho set a steady but heavy pace, thrusting sharply into you, each drag of his cock had you moaning, your grip on his wrists tightening as you tried to ground yourself.

“You’re taking me so well,” Yunho panted, eyes falling between your legs where he watched himself disappear inside your body repeatedly. “Oh fuck,” he moaned, eyes fluttering shut. “’m not gonna last,” he added, opening his eyes to look down at you.

“Cum for me, then,” you moaned but he shook his head. “Not until you’ve cum on this cock like a good girl,” he groaned, pulling your hips to meet his thrusts. One of your hands moved, grabbing a fistful of the sheets under you as you cried out.

“You cum for me first,” Yunho argued, increasing speed as he felt your cunt spasm around him. “That’s it. You’re doing so good, angel,” he continued, eyes shutting as he lost himself in the feeling. “Fuck! Be a good little girl and cum on my cock,” he growled, chasing his high as your orgasm crashed over you.

You let out a cry of his name, moans slipping out between curses as he helped you ride out your second orgasm.

“Fuuuuck,” Yunho hissed, feeling his own climax approaching. “Shit!”

You gasped as he pulled out of you, just in time to release all over your stomach, his hand gripping his cock as he squeezed every last drop out.

Looking down at the mess he created, Yunho couldn’t help but chuckle as he tried to regain control of his breathing. “S-sorry baby,” he stuttered. You glanced down at your stomach and back up at him. Your hands moved, reaching up for him. “S’okay,” you muttered sleepily.

Yunho laced his fingers with yours and brought each hand up, kissing the back of them before he released his grip. “I really made a mess,” he said, clicking his tongue disapprovingly at his own actions.

You opened your mouth to respond but gasped when he leaned over, dragging his tongue over your skin, lapping up his own essence. “Yunho!” You whispered, in awe of what he’d just done. He drew level with you, taking your cheeks in his hand and squeezed, forcing your mouth open.

His tongue entered your mouth, depositing his cum on your own tongue, turning into a sloppy kiss.

“That was so dirty!” you hissed when he pulled back. He smiled cheekily at you, giving you a shrug.

“Yeah, but you liked it, so… that makes you just as nasty as me, tiny girl.”

#ateez scenarios #ateez imagines #ateez smut #ateez x reader #jeong yunho #yunho scenarios #yunho imagines #yunho smut #yunho x reader #kwanisms kinkuary #kinkuary 2023

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waywardcrow · 6 months

Text

Gorgeous.

Summary: Bucky is so gorgeous and you need to tell him in a very particular way.

Warnings: English is not my first language so please if I make a mistake tell me, alcohol, drunk rambles, fluff, a tiny bit of angst but not really, Bucky being Bucky, this was very self-indulgent and inspired in that Taylor Swift song we all love, if I forgot something please let me know.

I do not consent to my work being copied, translated or reposted.

“I can’t stop looking at you, it’s infuriating” you needed to stop talking but the alcohol in your veins only fuels more your infatuation with the super soldier who looked at you with a smirk. “And why is that, sweetheart?” he asked like he didn’t knew, the little shit. You scoffed while making yourself comfortable in your seat –his lap- and rolled your eyes. He was so damn handsome, even in the multiple color lights that Tony arranged for the party and the music was so loud that you had to talk very close to him so Bucky could hear you which also didn't help, you could see every freckle, every little beautiful detail. “Barnes, you know why” It was impossible that he didn’t knew you were crazy about him, always daydreaming about his eyes so blue that you could drown in them, his dark hair that looked so soft to the touch, his smirk full of charm, all about him made it very difficult to even meet his eye and you weren’t the only one. Agents, lab assistants, even the damn journalist who interview the team a few days back, all of them fell victims of him. “I swear I have no idea what are you talking about, love.” He started to rub circles in your back, his cold vibranium hand sending shivers at the contact with your skin. The simple navy blue dress you chose for Yelena’s birthday was apparently enough to catch his attention but it wasn’t enough for you, he was in your thoughts since you two met and Bucky didn’t seemed to understand it.

“Because you are gorgeous, you cheeky son of a bitch” that was your answer when his smile got wider, as if he found pleasure in troubling you, the words were starting to blur in your tongue, most likely for the shots you had with Natasha and Maria but the need to tell Bucky everything that was in your heart burned in your tongue just like tequila “you are so fucking handsome that I can barely believe you are real and your laugh makes me feel all tingly and full of joy at the same time” you averted your eyes but his stare burn in your skin to make you know his attention was on you “and you make me feel so at peace that is aggravating.” The rest of the team was distracted which was good, if someone else could listen to you talk right now, they will never let you hear the end of it. “Sweetheart…” “Let me finish Barnes” you interrupted, his amused surprise made you sigh when you saw him bit his lip “see? That´s the shit I’m talking about, no one should look this fine, you should really think about the consequences of doing stuff like that in front of me or any other person, I don’t think your girlfriend approves, if you have a girlfriend in the first place. Bucky’s eyebrows got up, that was interesting.

“My girlfriend, huh?” “Yeah, or your girlfriends or boyfriend, boyfriends, significant one” you started rambling because who were you to assume things about him? His laugh broke your train of thought, leaving you in awe of such spectacle “this is so unfair.” You mumbled tracing with your fingertips the smile lines surrounding his eyes, all the embarrassment and concern about his love life forgotten. “You are one to talk about it, doll” he said helping you find a comfortable position so you could lay your head against his shoulder, starting to doze off after you yawn “are you sleepy?” You nodded and closed your eyes, hugging him as best as you could with your free arm. “I hate how good you smell and how comfy you are, I want to sleep here forever.” Bucky smiled, you fell asleep after that and he got up to take you to your room. “Is your girl ok?” Sam asked him when he walked pass him and Peter in the pool table. “She's just sleepy, I’m going to take her to our bedroom” Both guys said their good nights and Bucky made it to the elevators, your face was so relaxed that he almost felt bad for how much he will tease you about your confession for the next days but that's what you get when forgot you both were already married.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x f!reader

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monzabee · 1 year

Text

baby honey – al12

masterlist

Summary: The one where Arthur swears he’s not thinking about you, his best friend, all the time – just today, yesterday, and tomorrow night.

Pairing: arthur leclerc x reader

Word Count: 4.8k

Warnings: angst, unreciprocated feelings (that turn into reciprocated feelings), hurt, comfort, alcohol consumption, being drunk, idiots to lovers, denial is a river in egypt, charles and his big brain, miscommunication, mentions of drunk driving (don’t drink and drive!), jealousy jealousy, cying, google translate French!

Request: “after reading ur newest cl16 fic i want one where reader always liked charles but he gets a gf and she ends up with arthur (who’s her bff?? bffs to lovers 🤔) just a lot of hurt comfort” + “Hi! Can I please request ballerina!reader with either Charles or Arthur, you can choose to write it or do it as a smau, thank you!” + “can you please write something with Arthur + size/height difference?”

Author’s Note: hi, hey, hello!! it is time for the debut of arthur my beloved on this blog. i LOVED all of the requests for this one! i was originally going to name this fic after another taylor song (wink, wink), but then i was listening to baby honey by harry styles and something just clicked, so i hope you guys also agree with me. if anyone is wondering, this is an unreleased song from his first self-titled album. i know the request was a bit different, with reader having feelings for charles first, but i think changing it a little bit and having miscommunication made it a bit deeper. so thank you, anons, for these requests, i hope you guys enjoy! good morning, noon or night wherever you are, xoxobee

Please also note that all of my works are protected under copyright, and not available for reposting on other platforms.

Arthur has a problem when it comes to you – and that is not being able to say the word ‘no’. This has put him in some very interesting positions in the past, but whatever happens, it just seems that Arthur is not able to mutter out the word ‘no’ when you ask him of something. It’s always been that way, he supposes. He was never able to deny you when you looked at him with the look in your eyes, and he still can’t to this day. When you call him to ask if he wants to come to a party with you? He’s out the door before you tell him the location. When you suddenly have the urge to watch Barbie movies from your childhood? He brings the popcorn and even sings along to some of the songs he knows the words to. You were there for every one of his races before he got the opportunity to travel around the world to drive on the same tracks his brother and even the legends in the sports did. He came to every one of your ballet recitals until you graduated, and he was kind enough to buy you a bouquet of your favourite flowers each time. Although this might be the situation, the relationship you and Arthur have are based on equal grounds – meaning that you love and adore him just as he does you. It’s one of relationships you value the most in your life, the two of you having each other’s back since a very young age, and it is a relationship that you don’t ever want to lose. So, when the time came for both of you to move out of your parents’ houses, it came as no surprise for anyone that you two decided to move in together. Arthur wanted to spend his free time, when he wasn’t racing, with you as much as possible, and you were just happy to be with your best friend.

Though he’s always been protective over you and it is nothing new, Arthur can’t help but worry every time you go out on a date with a new guy. In reality, he knows you and Patrick have been going out for a while. You’ve told him about Patrick a few times when you called him when he was away for races, and he’s met the guy, but there’s a feeling he just can’t seem to shake off.

“Are you sure you want to go on this date?” Arthur asks behind the door to your bedroom.

You groan when the earring you’re trying to get stuck in your hair. “For the millionth time, Arthur, I’m sure.” You check yourself in the mirror for the last time before grabbing your handbag and opening you door to come face to face with a worried face. “Why are you so stressed over this?” You ask him, rummaging through the handbag in your hand to find your lipstick.

“I’m not stressed, poupette.” doll. Arthur scoffs, watching you with a stern look on your face. “I’m just making sure you’re feeling up to going out tonight.”

“I’m feeling fine, ma moitié, my other half, you have nothing to worry about.” You assure him with a sweet smile on your face while playfully patting his chest. “Stop acting like this, you look like your mother.”

“Fine, then, you look like my mother.” You shrug as Arthur rolls his eyes. Loud cackles coming from the living room suddenly grabs both of your attention, making you smile even wider. “Lorenzo, Charles, hi!”

The two brothers sitting in your living room gives you bright smiles and Hellos. Charles gives you a glance, eyebrows raised as he asks, “Aren’t you going to be cold without a jacket?”

“You’re not taking a jacket?” A voice exclaims from behind, making you roll your eyes as you point towards Arthur with the tilt of your head.

“You happy?” You ask while raising your eyebrows. “A jacket doesn’t go with my dress.” You explain, expectantly looking at the older driver as you open your arms and pointing to the dress.

“Uh, sure, Y/N.” Charles nods in thought.

Lorenzo hits the back of his brother’s head lightly, shaking his head towards him as he speaks to you. “I think you look lovely, have a good night.”

“Thank you, Enzo!” You beam, walking towards the front door as you yell. “Arthur I’m leaving, don’t wait up!” At the mention of his name, Arthur comes running towards the front door, reminding you that you can call him at any point during the night if you feel uncomfortable, which in return you assure him you’ll be fine and leave after giving him a kiss on the cheek.

He sighs deeply as he watches you leave the apartment, and only realises both of his brothers watching him with funny expressions after he closes the door and turns back with the jacket still in his hands. “What?”

“So,” Charles begins when all three of them are sitting on the couch in your living room, getting ready to play a round of FIFA. “How long have you been crushing on Y/N, again?”

Arthur groans, his face contorting up in a grimace. “Not this again, Charles.”

“No, he has a point.” Lorenzo mumbles, siding with his brother. “You’ve had a crush on her since you were seven, Arthur.”

“Exactly!” Charles exclaims, pointing to Arthur excitedly. “Why haven’t you done something about it yet?”

“Because she is my best friend, you idiots.” Arthur shakes his head, choosing to focus on the game which just started on the screen instead of insistent look Charles and Lorenzo give him. “And, stop saying I have a crush on her.”

Charles lets out a disapproving sound as he, too, turns towards the game. “Friends don’t look at each other like that.”

“We look each other normally.”

“You look like you want to make love to her every time you look at her.” Charles shrugs, making both his older and younger brother turn to him with disgusted looks on their faces.

“Charles!” Arthur complains. “No!”

“Please don’t ever use the words 'make love' in the same sentence as Arthur and Y/N.” Lorenzo begs, grabbing the bridge of his nose.

“Fine.” Charles shrugs, as he takes the opportunity to shoot his first goal. “But you can’t deny the fact that your overprotectiveness over Y/N doesn’t stem from your feelings for her. You’ve always been that way and it’s impossible for you to not feel something more for her.”

Arthur frowns, not because he is losing by the third minute of the game, but because of Charles’ words. “We’ve been friends since we were babies, Charles, of course I’m protective over her.”

“Which is understandable.” Lorenzo tries to reconciliate.

Charles lets out another disapproving mumble. “So you’d be okay with me asking her out?”

“Excuse-moi?” Excuse me? Arthur looks at his brother, appalled. “You’re going to do what?”

“Ask her out, Arthur. Would you be okay if I asked her out?” Charles repeats himself in a nonchalant manner, scoring another goal.

“Of course not!” Arthur cries out. “Why would you ask her out anyway? She’s seeing Patrick.”

Charles shrugs noncommittally. “She might break things off with him. You know, I always had a feeling she had a crush on me.”

“Charles.” Lorenzo scolds his younger brother.

However, Arthur is busy going through every single interaction you’ve had with Charles over the years; trying to find some actuality to his brother’s words. He pauses the game to turn towards his brothers, his eyes angry as he looks at Charles with a locked jaw. “No, you cannot ask out my best friend, you porc!” pig.

“Why?” He asks, with a fake innocent look on his face.

“Because, firstly, she is not a pawn you can use to prove something to me in some messed up game. And, two, she is mybest friend, my roommate and my–” He doesn’t finish the sentence, but he knows how he would end the sentence if he would – which makes him think for a moment that his brothers just might be right.

“Okay, then.” Charles concedes, unpausing the game and taking advantage of the confused state Arthur is in to score, yet, another goal.

Though the game is going on, Arthur can’t seem to focus on it because he is too busy thinking about you, and whether he’s been in love with you his entire life.

It’s a couple weeks later when Arthur walks through the doors of the ballet studio you work at. He noticed over the few weeks that you’ve been down ever since you’ve stopped seeing Patrick, so he wanted to surprise you. He greets the old receptionist who works out in the front, giving her one of the tulips he got for you on his way there. When he gets in front of the classroom you usually teach in, he watches you with the kids as a soft smile find its way onto his face. He watches as you fix the techniques of some of the girls who are struggling, but instead of appearing upset, they are smiling as they try their best to fix their postures. When you move towards the old stereo on the corner of the room, he knows that the class is about to end – because something you do at the end of every class is letting the student dance freely to the music on the radio without giving them instructions. He watches as one of the smaller boys in the class shyly approach you, motioning you to bend to his height with his hand and then whisper something in your ear. You talk for a while, and he watches as the boy leaves with a smile on his face, which wasn’t there before, after giving you a hug and a small bouquet of flowers. Arthur waits until the class is over and all the kids have left the small studio to walk in.

“I was wondering if you offered any private lessons?” He asks with a boyish smile on his face.

You turn towards him, fast, when you hear your voice. Laughing as you cross the room and throw yourself into his waiting arms. “You couldn’t dance even if Marianela Núñez gave you dance classes herself, Turo.”

“Well I don’t need classes from her,” Arthur rolls his eyes. “All I need is you.”

You purse your lips, trying not to smile too widely, at the hidden meaning behind his words – the one which you somehow convince yourself that you’re imagining ever being there. Lightly leaning your head against Arthur’s chest, you begin talking. “You’re awfully sweet today, did you know that?”

He presses a light kiss onto the crown of you head, mumbling in thought. “Well, I missed you because I was alone at home all day. So I thought I’d come surprise you.” Pulling away slowly, he gives you the bouquet of tulips he is holding. “Speaking of which.”

“They look like the ones you used to get me after my recitals!” You squeal, taking the bouquet from his hand and inspecting it closely. “I love them, Arthur, thank you.”

“I’m glad you liked them, poupette.” He smiles. “Although, it seems that I have some competition today.”

You smile and shrug at the mention of the other bouquet sitting next to your bag. “Oh, that’s Leon. Some of the older kids at school’s been bothering him because he’s taking ballet classes.”

“You made him smile,” Arthur recalls, one of his hands cupping your cheek, which makes you look up to him. “Probably made his day, too.”

“I hope so.” You tell him, honestly. “He seem to like the classes; I would hate to see him leave just because of bullies at school.”

“You are a very good teacher, you know that?” Arthur murmurs, watching as a rosy colour takes over your cheeks.

“Stop it.” You huff, trying to push him off of you in a faux attempt. “Did you come here to make me blush, ma moitié?”

He shakes his head. “No, no. I thought we could go on a walk? At the marina, before it gets dark.”

You pretend to think for a moment, but smile, nonetheless. “Can we also get burgers?”

Arthur tries to profess his feelings for you when the two of you go on your ‘date’, he really does. When he sits down and thinks about it, rationally, he can convince himself that you have feelings for him, just the way he does for you. He can see it in the way you glance up at him every time he makes a joke, or the way you lean into his touch every time he touches you, which is a lot. He thinks he sees something every time you end up too close to each other; even convinces himself that perhaps you are expecting a kiss with the way your eyes slide to his lips a couple of times. But every time he tries to force himself to kiss you or tell you how he feels, an apprehensive doubt takes over his entire brain, somehow convincing himself otherwise, that doing so would only end up in you two getting completely messing up your friendship.

There’s also a part of his brain which consistently reminds him that it is Charles you have feelings for and not him. He doesn’t have a reason why he came to this conclusion; you’ve never explicitly told him about having feelings for his older brother, but there’s a part of him that still clings to Charles’ words – even though he didn’t actually mean anything by them. So as any person his age, who is going through what he’s going through, he takes a step back to observe. It all starts when the two of you go out for grocery shopping. It’s not a common occurrence that Arthur accompanies you, mainly because he is on the road most of the time, but he tags along because “He doesn’t want you to carry the bags on your own.” The two of you are busy fighting over cereal when you run into Charles, who provides a solution by offering that you buy both of the boxes. While you tell him it is probably the only way you and Arthur are going to agree on the fact, he is too busy picking apart every part of the interaction to see whether there could be any possibility of you having any feelings for his brother. The worst of them come a few weeks later, when Arthur and Charles come back from a race. All four of you, including Lorenzo, are seated at your dining table, enjoying takeover pizza when Charles announces that he started to see a girl. You all congratulate him, but after the conversation dies down, Arthur notices a familiar look of longing in your eyes. And that’s when he realises that you have feelings for Charles, and not him, and he absolutely needs to get over his feelings for you before it blows up in his face.

A couple of weeks later, one of his friends from racing invite you to a party. Arthur follows you, of course, because he doesn’t want you to go alone. He know it’s a terrible idea, though, once he sees you in the dress you chose for the party. It’s feels as if it’s impossible for him to keep his eyes (or his hands) off of you. He manages to let out a strangled answer when you ask him if you look okay, “You look good, Y/N.” The smile you give him return is so sweet, that he suddenly remembers that he should schedule an appointment with his dentist when he has the time. Though he doesn’t manage to convince you to take a jacket with you, he picks up his own as a precaution. The party is in full swing by the time the two of you arrive, which you light-heartedly scold him because the two of you are late. He considers apologising at first, but when he sees the smile on your lips, he just lets you drag him towards the bar without any objections.

“What do you want to drink?” You ask him, leaning over the bar to take a look at the limited menu. You know he wouldn’t want to drink if he was driving the two of you back home, but since you took an Uber to the night club, Arthur decides to drink as well.

“I’ll have tequila.” He answers after looking at the menu thinking about it for a second, and then turns to you. “You want to do shots?”

“Yes, please.” You nod, giving him your ‘prettiest’ smile. “Five?”

“Three.” He shakes his head and gives you a stern look. “And no mixing alcohols, either.”

You pout as you watch him order your drinks, your arms crossed over your chest pushing your breasts together. “You’re no fun.”

Arthur’s eyes fall down to your chest for a moment but he promptly fixes his gaze up to yours, as he places his hand on your hip to draw you close to him. He leans down towards you to whisper in your ear, “I’m here with you, aren’t I?”

You purse your lips, choosing to play with the buttons on his shirt as a distraction. “We haven’t gone out to party in a while, sue me for wanting to have fun.”

“We will have fun.” Arthur contends as his thumb starts drawing circles on your hipbone. “Just not by doing something which will cause you to wake up hungover tomorrow.”

You give him a sarcastic smile. “Hm, mon chevalier en armure brillante.” my knight in shining armour. You turn to the bartender who brings over your drinks. “Thank you.”

Arthur eyes the bartender up and down, his look over quickly morphing into a side-eye once he realises where his eyes are looking at. He somehow pulls you closer to himself, caging you between himself and the bar, and lifts your chin up with two of his fingers to gaze into your eyes. “Be good, baby,” He tests. “Honey.” He warns.

“I am always good.” You counter, eyebrows furrowing in confusion because of his sudden possessive streak. “Are you okay?”

He waits until the bartender is tending to other customers to answer your question, his voice is in a lower octave but still somehow audible to you over the loud music in the club. “He was looking at your chest, poupette.”

“My boobs look great in this dress.” You reply while shrugging, the aloof look in your face making Arthur frown. “You didn’t need to act like a caveman, you know. The poor guy was probably scared.”

“Well, it’s too late now.” He replies, aloof, and downs one of his shots. “Are we doing this or not?”

It’s a bad idea, after all, tequila shots. Because after you’re done with the first three, you somehow convince Arthur that you need more, which means the both of you end up drinking six shots in the span of half-an hour. The bright side of this situation is that you convince Arthur to dance with you on the dancefloor, which he wouldn’t have done if he was sober. At some point throughout the night the two of you end up getting separated, which has you going around the night club looking for Arthur. You decide to ask some of his friends he introduced to you earlier, who tell you that he’s probably out taking some fresh air. He’s by himself outside of the club, leaning against a wall when you find him.

“What are you doing here all alone?” You ask him, tilting your head sideways to take a good look at him.

“It’s quieter out here,” Arthur shrugs, opening his arms and motioning you to come closer. “You’re going to freeze.”

You find yourself in his arms in record time, not that you could say no to his hugs anyway, his sway making you frown. “Are you okay, Turo?”

He smiles lazily at the nickname as he wraps his arm around your shoulders. “I’m drunk, ne devrait probablement pas conduire.” probably shouldn't drive.

“It’s okay, I’ll order an Uber.” He keeps his arms around you as you busy yourself with your phone, entering the address of your apartment.

Just like at the bar or when you were waiting for the Uber to arrive, Arthur doesn’t let you go completely when you’re in the backseat of the car. He makes you wear his jacket before you get into the car, though the oversized clothing doesn’t stop him from managing to make contact with your skin. He has a hand on your thigh, which is exposed because your dress keeps riding up. You make sure to keep an arm around him when you stumble through the door to your apartment.

You tell him to wait for you in his room and that you’ll be right over after you take your heels; however, he responds by throwing you over his shoulder as he walks through the corridor which leads up to his room. “Arthur, you’re drunk, put me down!”

“This doesn’t count as drunk driving.” He provides as an excuse, only putting you down when he enters his room – thankfully without any accidents.

You sit on his bed to take of your heels just as he jumps onto it, making it teeter because of his movements and makes you laugh at him. Shrugging off the jacket he gave you, you walk towards his closet to hand up the garment before the two of you forget about it. Arthur watches you move around his room with dazed eyes, trying very hard not to laugh when he sees you struggling with the hangers and cursing under your breath. His eyes move down your body when you kneel to get to the last drawer to get out a pair of sweatpants for him, which makes him silently groan at the sight. You walk towards him when you get out the sweats and a shirt for him to change into, poking his stomach to make him sit up straight. “Take off your shirt.”

“Are you trying to get me naked?” He asks, a smirk playing on his lips. “At least take me out to dinner first.”

“I cook you dinner all the time, Arthur.” You drawl, holding out the clothes for him to take.

He takes them while mumbling, “And I try my best to eat and enjoy all your attempts.”

“Casse toi, go away, asshole.” You snap, starting to walk out of the room.

“Where are you going?” He calls out.

You scoff, calling out back at him over your shoulder. “To get you water and Advil, you better be changed by the time I’m back or I’m putting you under the cold shower.”

He is, thankfully, changed by the time you get back with a glass of water and the painkillers you promised, You place them onto his nightstand, and face him. “Off to bed, you go.”

“Stay here tonight?” He asks you, but his voice is devoid of his previous playfulness.

“I don’t think it’s a good idea, chéri.” You press a kiss against his cheek and then, feeling bold, you press another kiss to the beauty mark right above the corner of his lips. “We’ll talk in the morning, okay?”

Sleep doesn’t come easy that night, no matter how hard he tries to fall asleep. He keeps trying to convince himself to go to sleep, telling himself that the quicker he does, the quicker he’ll see you in the morning, but he is unable to do so. At some point in the night, he finds himself slipping through your door. He ends up slipping under your covers too, and pulls you against his chest, causing you to stir in your sleep as you cuddle his side.

“Go back to sleep, honey.” He whispers as he closes his eyes, and he finally drifts off to sleep when he finally has you in his arms.

You’re sleeping on top of him when he wakes up the next morning with his face buried in your hair. Your closed eyes and even breathing indicates that you’re still asleep, which causes Arthur to do his best to stay still not to wake you up. He soaks up every moment of it until your eyes flutter open and you let out a low whine, asking, “Why are you in my bed? How’d you get here?”

“I sneaked in.” He replies, pressing a kiss on your cheek. “Good morning, baby.”

“I’m loving the new nicknames; baby, honey?” You mumble, nuzzling your nose against his jaw. “Why’d you sneak in?”

“I couldn’t stop thinking about you.” He confesses with a strained look on his face, and then he announces. “You’re not my girlfriend.”

You pick up your head so quickly, you think you’re going to break your neck. “I’m aware of that fact, Arthur.” You manage to get out in a clipped voice.

“And I should probably be thinking about protecting our friendship first, but I have to say this even though you have feelings for my brother.”

“Your brother?” You look at him with your mouth agape. “You think I have feelings for your brother? Lorenzo? He’s like my brother!”

He’s taken aback by your question. “No- not Lorenzo! Do you have a crush on Lorenzo?”

“No! You idiot, why would I have feelings for Lorenzo?” You ask him as you scramble to get off of him, letting yourself fall to the bed and pick up your pillow to hit Arthur over the head with. “I don’t have feelings for either of your brothers, other than being friends, you disgusting pig!”

“You don’t have feelings for Charles?” He asks you tentatively which earns him another hit on the head with the pillow. “Okay, would you please stop that?”

“No, I don’t have feelings for Charles, either! Oh my god, Arthur, what is wrong with you?” The look you give him reflect how much you’re hurt, your fingers occupy themselves with the edge of the pillowcase as you ask, “Do you honestly think I’d be in bed with you like that if I had feelings for your brother?”

He’s careful as he asks, “…No?” He lets out a frustrated groan as he pushes himself to get to a standing position. “I don’t know what to think, anymore. I like you so much that somehow you’ve taken over my entire brain!”

“You… like me?” You ask him, breath hitching in your throat.

“No.” Comes his reply.

“So, you don’t like me?”

His hands grasp the roots of his hair. “No, I adore you, I am utterly infatuated by you, I am so besotted by you that every moment of my waking days are filled with the thoughts of you, I can’t sleep, I can’t eat, I even think about you when I’m on the track–”

“Arthur, breathe.” You warn him, your hands quickly going over his to try and get them off.

“You really don’t have feelings for Charles?” He asks in a small voice. You answer him by shaking your head, which prompts him to ask, “Then why were you sad when he announced he was seeing someone?”

“He told me you’d confess your feelings to me before he ever found someone to date for himself.” You shrug, the corners of your mouth dipping as if you’re trying to keep tears at bay. “I guess I somehow made myself believe you would.”

“Baby–” He stops himself. “Honey, please don’t cry.” He reaches over you to wipe away some of the stray tears that have escaped your eyes, taking a deep breath. “I am stupid.”

“Very much so, yes.” You agree with him as you lean against his touch. “Though, I’m surprised you didn’t notice me flirting with you over the past year.”

“You’ve been flirting me for a year?” He asks you, baffled.

You fix him with an unamused look. “Do you think I go around talking about my boobs with everyone?”

“You better not be.” He scoffs as he draws you closer to him.

“I just might do so if you don’t do something about it.” You egg him on without changing the expression on your face.

You squeal as Arthur picks you up and gently throws you down on the bed, quickly changing his position to hover over you as he presses kisses all over your face. “Mine,” He announces. “Mine, my girl.”

“I like the sound of that,” You breathe out. “But I liked the others more.”

“Which ones?” He asks while letting his finger trace over the outline of your lips.

“Baby, honey, I don’t even know what you were trying to say.” You giggle.

“Mine.” He whispers. “I was trying to say that you’re mine.”

#monzabee #requests open #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 smut #formula 1 #fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 x y/n #arthur leclerc #arthur leclerc x reader #arthur leclerc imagine #imagine #fluff #angst #smut #arthur leclerc smut #arthur lecler fluff

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bluemari23 · 2 months

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bts and how they would love their plus size s/o

pairings: bts x reader genre: fluff, smut, warnings: suggestive but also more, face sitting, thigh riding, body worship, possessive jungkook, hobo is a boob man, mr tongue technology, masterlist

Namjoon

loves to kiss your stretch marks. like absolutely loves them. loves to trace them as well

"they give me a map to loving you"

insists on cuddling on the couch, knowing there isn't a lot of room so you have to lay on him

"it's okay, baby, come lay on me"

loves when you where his clothes, especially when you only wear one of his shirts (loves how they barely cover your thighs)

his favorite physical part about you is your thighs, they literally make him drool

"c'mere babygirl. let me help you" when he sees you struggling with your thoughts. he knows you constantly think you're too heavy or big for him. he's not having it

holds your hips and guides your movements as you ride his thigh. loves knowing he can make you cum with just his thighs, flexing it and holding you tight.

Jin

also a thigh man but for different reasons (kind of)

loves wrapping his arms around you and holding you from behind

loves to make new recipes for you to try and test out

loves that he can provide for you and your shared love of food

"just one more minute, baby" when you try to get out of bed but he isn't done cuddling you yet

will happily hype you up in new clothes

"world wide beautiful" is your new title

his love of eating translates to other things as well

"please babygirl" as he pleads for you to sit on his face

will happily die under your pussy and the way your thighs clench around his head when you cum

loves to take care of you and provide for you

Yoongi

doesn't take anyone's shit when it comes to you

very protective lover

don't have to think around him at all

will only do interviews with weverse if even one person does an unflattering article about you (will sue anyone and everyone)

at first you are uncomfortable with his constant touches and hungry gazes but then they become almost comforting

always keeps snacks for you two to share, especially tangerines

writes numerous songs for you

loves to hold you with his hand resting on your stomach (will rub at the stretch marks and whisper absolute desire in your ear)

loves to claim you in his studio, vocal about his desire and love for you

passionate in his body worship of you, especially when he finds out how much you love his tongue and how it feels on you

"feel so good against me, princess"

Hosoek

loves to dress you and help expand your fashions sense

is the one to help you feel more confident in your body and happy to show it off

loves when you come home and do a fashion show of him in your new clothes (especially when you buy some lingerie)

can't keep his hands off of you

ever

loves how soft your skin is and is constantly fondling your curves

wants to just hold your breasts in his hands

says his hands could be a better bra for you (hates how you end up with marks from the wires in your bras and how they hurt at the end of the day)

loves to just randomly nibble at your skin (thinks it looks delicious and loves the giggles you make every time)

"all of this, just for me" as he thrusts deeply into you, kissing at your breasts

Jimin

loves how warm you are and will always be found cuddling you no matter where you both are

finds you absolutely adorable and smiles wide every time you come into a room

loves to dress you up and take pictures of you (keeps you as his lock screen and home screen)

can get jealous when other people look at you

"say you're mine, baby"

is there to listen and help you with your own body image issues,

is always there to remind you how beautiful you are

is completely into body worship

"look so pretty for me, all dressed up like this"

would also love face sitting to be honest. like cannot get enough of the way you look down at him, pulling at his hair as you cum

Taehyung

thinks nothing of your weight until he sees you looking in the mirror, holding and becoming insecure over every one of your "problem areas"

will have nothing of you thinking you have problem areas

thinks you're a goddess

"all art work must be thoroughly examined to be fully appreciated"

will spend hours making you feel good and loving on each of you "problem areas" tell you each reason why he loves you

loves to see you in his jackets,

ends up buying matching outfits for you to wear out

will kiss you every couple minutes, just because he loves the feeling of your lips

Jungkook

would be the person to keep going to the gym for you

"I will always be able to carry you"

loves to manhandle you (knowing you get absolutely horny for him when he does so)

is possessive of you and your body

loves when you were dresses that are sort of revealing because it means you're feeling good in your body (and he's the only one who can touch you)

his favorite position is when you ride him so he can see all of you

especially loves watching your breasts bounce from each thrust up he makes

loves seeing his handprints on your hips or ass from you riding him

is also into body worship because he loves your body and just how perfect it is for him

"so perfect for me, baby. take my cock so well"

#bts #bts au #bts headcanons #boyfriend bts #bts x reader #fluff #smut #bluemari23

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katyaromanoffpetrova · 2 months

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The only fool on April Fools'

Natasha thought she came up with the best prank ever. But she forgot exactly who she was trying to prank.

• Natasha Romanoff x Fem!OC • Wordcount: 2.7k • Warnings: suggestive talk Masterlist

Do not repost my work as your own or translate my work!!

A/N: a late birthday post from me :)

2028

Natasha could not stop looking at her hands on the steering wheel. More specifically, she couldn't stop looking at her nails. Every time they caught her eye when she went to change the song on the radio or flick her blinker, the smuggest smirk took over her entire face.

She'd been thinking long and hard about this year's prank. April Fools' Day was a serious occasion for her and Katya, a holiday they planned for for months. It started in 2010 when Natasha had been brave enough to prank her girlfriend at the time, and it developed from there. The only rule they had was that the pranks shouldn't be too humiliating. Just funny. So there was a lot of creative freedom.

This year, she really nailed it. It was hilarious. She was hilarious, and Katya was going to be so pissed. She thought Natasha had just gone to get a haircut, but she'd be getting the worst surprise of her life when she showed her what she'd actually been doing in the city.

Was it cruel? Yes. But Katya replaced all the Oreo cookie filling with toothpaste last year. Natasha's Oreo cookies. And she filled a donut with mayo. So Natasha wanted to let her feel that same pain. Only more subtly.

When she walked into the house, pushing her smirk aside for the sake of the prank, the smell of cake filled her nostrils. It smelled delicious, like chocolate and butter. A special recipe that Katya had been meaning to try. Too bad that Natasha wouldn't be eating a single piece of it, considering there was probably salt in it instead of sugar, but at least she knew where to find her darling wife.

Prepared to feel incredibly smug and pleased, she strolled into the kitchen. Katya stood with her back turned, softly singing a song as she mixed something with the handheld electronic mixer. The noise drowned out the sound of Natasha's footsteps, so she didn't hear her come in. It only prolonged the excitement. "Smells good in here."

Katya jumped, quickly turning off the mixer. "Oh. Hi, baby!" An adoring smile spread across her lips as she turned around. Natasha almost felt bad for her upcoming prank. Almost. "Let me see your hair." A crease formed between her brows as she studied Natasha's long red locks. "It doesn't look any different," she said carefully, as if she was afraid to offend her new haircut.

Natasha smiled sheepishly, glancing down at her hands. "Yeah, well, you know… I was planning on getting my hair done, but then I passed a nail salon, and, well…" Instead of explaining, she simply brought her hands up, holding her nails out for Katya to see.

When the nail stylist asked her what shape she wanted, Natasha told her to go for the pointest, most stabby looking nail she could do, and she hadn't disappointed. Two inches long, all of them ended in a point that could seriously poke somebody's eye out. The deep red color and the black details turned them into the sexiest murder weapons she'd ever had. The sexiest, most inconvenient weapons ever. They were lowkey homophobic.

She saw the different emotions cross Katya's face one by one. Excitement, at first. Probably because she was happy Natasha spoiled herself, or she liked the nails. Then hesitation. Then realization. Then anger, which manifested with a slight twitch of her brows. And lastly…

Actually, Natasha couldn't decipher the emotion that slid over the anger. It was like Katya mentally paused before she could get really angry, and then decided on a different course. All of it happened within a second. Her brain was just that fast at assessing a situation.

An excited gasp flew from her lips. "They look so good, honey!" Katya exclaimed, carefully taking Natasha's hands in her own to see her nails better. "The design is so simple yet so elegant. It really suits you!"

Natasha inwardly frowned, her smugness plummeting. This was not the reaction she had been hoping for. Not by miles. But she wasn't giving up yet. "What do you think about the length?" She smiled, mirroring Katya's excitement. "I wanted to go even longer, but I've never had nails before so I didn't want to overdo it."

"No, I love it! It suits your hand shape really well."

To Natasha's even bigger surprise, Katya let her hands go to grab her cheeks instead, pulling her close to press a sweet kiss to her lips. Her blue eyes sparkled joyfully. "I'm so glad you treated yourself to something nice. You deserve it."

Then she turned around and went back to making the icing for her cake.

Natasha stood there, lost, wondering how this had gone completely the opposite way of how she wanted. Katya was supposed to be upset, asking her what she was thinking, getting long ass nails as a woman in a lesbian relationship. With those weapons on her fingers, she could not use them for her favorite activity whatsoever.

But instead of getting pissed, Katya got the opposite. She happily sang, swaying her body as she finished mixing her icing. Not a care in the world.

Natasha's prank had dramatically failed.

"Look how good this looks." Katya suddenly turned around, a big scoop of chocolate icing on her pointer finger. Slowly, she brought it to her lips, sucking her finger into her mouth and pulling it out. "Hmm, so good," she moaned.

The very bottom part of Natasha's stomach twisted into knots. She couldn't find her words as she watched Katya lick off the icing in a way that was incredibly sensual. And not by accident.

''Yep, that's done!" She beamed. Katya covered the bowl with some foil and put it in the fridge, happily twirling around to a still frozen Natasha. ''I'm going to lift some weights. Could use a spotter.''

''I—'' Natasha mentally slapped herself, swallowing thickly. ''Sure.''

Katya perked up. ''Okay. Give me a minute to change.''

She wasn't stupid. She knew exactly what those nails meant. It meant her wife was an ass. An ass who didn't want to get laid for a few weeks, apparently.

Her first instinct was to get pissed. Get pissed at Natasha for partly ruining their sex life. Because while they owned many replacements, Natasha's fingers would always be her favorite, and they were not going up there looking like that.

But then Katya realized that getting angry was exactly what her wife was after. And what better way to ruin a prank by pretending not to see it? In fact, she was going to throw Natasha's own prank right back at her, make her miserable. Show her that getting these nails would come back to bite her in the ass. Fast.

Nobody messed with her.

Choosing her smallest sports bra and tightest cycling shorts, Katya threw her hair up and returned to Natasha. The woman seemed to be disoriented, or at least deep in thought. She was in the exact spot Katya left her ten minutes earlier, frowning at the countertop. When she did look up, Katya purposely flexed her biceps as she tightened her ponytail, drawing Natasha's gaze directly to her arms.

Her green eyes darkened as they took in Katya's figure. Everything that wasn't bare skin was skin-tight. And while her body didn't look the way it did when she was twenty-four—duh—Natasha still thought it was hot as hell. She wanted to grab it, bend it over the counter—

''Earth to Nat.''

Natasha rapidly blinked, pulling her head out of the clouds. ''Hm?''

Katya had a huge grin on her face that she tried to hide. ''I said; are you coming?''

''Oh, yes.''

She didn't even try to not stare at Katya's ass as the brunette walked in front of her. It was right there, shaking in those spandex shorts. The urge to grab it and press her nails—oh. With a frown, Natasha looked down at her pointy nails. She couldn't grab Katya's butt and press the top of her nails down at the same time.

''Hmm…'' Katya stopped in the doorframe of the garage—their home gym. ''What do you reckon I should do first?''

''Ass.'' Natasha was just in time to bring her gaze upwards when Katya spun around, staring straight into her raised eyebrow. Her cheeks heated up when she realized what her half-horny brain had thrown out. ''I meant squats.''

''Squats it is.'' Katya smiled.

Even the process of setting it all up drove Natasha up the wall. To get the weights on the bar, Katya had to lift them, and because she barely wore a shirt, her back, shoulder, and arm muscles visibly flexed for Natasha to see. Her hands itched, but she suspected Katya was playing a game, and she wasn't going to give in.

They both weren't going to give in. So it was going to be a game of who can hold out the longest.

If things progressed this way, Natasha was one hundred percent sure she was going to lose.

''Okay.'' Katya excessively bent over to put her resistance band down. She'd warmed her muscles—doing some very deep deep squats—and secured her ponytail once more. ''I'm ready.''

Natasha knew it was going to be a mistake when she stepped behind Katya. She knew she was digging her own grave. The brunette pressed her ass into her front and flexed her muscles way more than necessary as she adjusted her grip on the bar resting on her shoulders. Natasha clenched her jaw to keep still and quiet, but the frustration started to build.

Down Katya went for the first squat, pausing a few seconds before she went up again. Natasha squatted along with her, forcing herself to pay attention to the bar and only the bar. She wondered if she could even close her hands around it in case Katya needed her help. Those damn claws of her were probably in the way.

She was about to breathe out in relief when Katya didn't pull any stunts on the way up.

Then she let out the sexiest grunt ever.

Natasha nearly collapsed through her knees. Dirty memories of times where Katya grunted like that flashed through her head. Half an hour of teasing and she was on the very edge of damning it all to hell. Screw her dignity. She wanted something else to screw, and fast.

Down, Katya went again, audibly breathing out as she went down, and grunting when she straightened up. Down, breathing out. Up, grunting.

Three times, Natasha kept herself together with great difficulty. On the forth grunt, her sexual frustration snapped.

''Put it down.''

Katya smirked to herself. She expected her wife to keep it together a bit longer, but obviously her plan was working. ''What? Why? I've just started,'' she said innocently, pretending to be extremely confused the same way she'd been pretending to be stupid.

''Put the thing down.''

Carefully, Katya racked the bar, furrowing her brows as she turned to face the fuming redhead. Before she could blink, Natasha had her pinned against one of the squat rack's poles. She felt all that frustration in the way her spine bumped against the metal. ''What's going on?'' Her eyes widened like that of a deer in headlights.

''Stop playing dumb.''

''Playing dumb?''

Natasha took one good look at her and knew she wasn't going to give in. Katya could play the innocent persona as long as she wished to, no matter what threat Natasha would sling at her head. Torture training as a kid clearly worked better for her. The only thing she had to do was grunt a bit and Natasha was a goner.

A groan of frustration filled the garage. This was cruelty in the most ruthless way. Dangling the richest, most tasteful, most expensive wine in front of an alcoholic but not letting them have a taste. Collecting all her self-control, Natasha backed away, stalking off without so much as another word.

Katya snickered proudly, smirking as she turned back to the squat rack. Her plan was going amazingly so far. These weren't the only tricks up her sleeve.

The torture continued throughout the day. She was doing the dishes? She accidentally got the front of her shirt all wet, and didn't happen to wear a bra. The dinner table needed a good clean? She was bent all over that thing trying to get the spots in the middle. She was vacuuming? She was on her hands and knees on the floor trying to vacuum underneath the couch.

Wherever Natasha went, she also miraculously had to be. The redhead could not escape her. It was torture training. But in a way she'd never been tortured before.

The weapons on her hands had gone from ''the funniest things ever'' to ''I'm going to rip my whole nail off if it means I get to stuff my hand down her pants''. She couldn't take it anymore. Sexual frustration built and built until her stomach was in a permanent knot and her hands were constantly sweaty.

Two hours before Maya was meant to be coming home, Natasha couldn't take it anymore. The groans, grunts, and sighs, and the positions Katya bent her body in finally pushed her over the edge.

Fine, her wife had won. But taking a hit to her ego and pride was worth it if she could finally get her hands between those legs.

She didn't even bother soaking her nails off. She simply took nail cutters to them and cut them all off as short as possible. Then she filed them down roughly, paying extra attention to the middle three fingers of her left hand, and tossed everything in the trash.

Katya heard her coming from miles away, her rushed footsteps before Natasha cornered her in the laundry room. She saw them immediately; her nails. Or the lack thereof.

Concerned, she dropped a t-shirt back in the laundry basket, trying to reach for her hands. ''Oh, no, what did you do to your nails?''

But Natasha wasn't taking this innocent bullshit anymore. ''You drive me absolutely nuts. You pest,'' she grumbled. Her voice lacked serious anger as she slowly backed Katya up against the washing machine. Instead, it was laced with reluctant defeat and annoyance. Annoyance at herself.

A sly smile overtook Katya's features as she gripped the edge of the machine for stability. It looked like her wife had been through it. ''Ready to admit you made a mistake then?''

''I hate you.''

Katya chuckled softly. ''You dug your own grave, babe. Worst prank ever. Well, for you then. It was so much fun for me.'' She smirked teasingly as she slowly trailed her fingers up Natasha's arm. The game was still going on. Even now. The glare Natasha sent her was weak at most. ''Don't forget who you're messing with.''

Natasha rolled her eyes, leaning forward to connect their lips, thinking this was it. But Katya jerked her head back, amusement swimming in her eyes.

''Nuh-uh. Say it.''

''Say it?'' The redhead grumbled impatiently, seconds away from throwing a fit.

Katya nodded smugly, her fingers slowly trailing down Natasha's arm. ''I need to hear it. I…''

Natasha clenched her teeth together to swallow back the vile words and accusations that Katya would only laugh at. She didn't think she would be this cruel, giving her dignity another slap in the face by making her vocally admit her mistake like a child. Unfortunately, Natasha didn't have another option.

She squinted her eyes, placing as much displeasure in her words as she could. ''I made a mistake thinking I could outsmart my mean, cruel wife.''

Happy, Katya grinned, grabbing Natasha's hips to pull them flush against her own. This victory tasted sweeter than her chocolate cake downstairs. She won April Fools'. And she didn't even have to do anything for it. ''You know, it's really not my fault you get so riled up.''

Natasha usually loved to bicker, but she couldn't take it anymore. Her gaze kept drifting down from Katya's eyes to her lips when she talked, and if she wouldn't get her mouth or hands on her body right this instant, she was going to explode. ''Respectfully, shut up. You had your fun, now it's time for mine.''

''Yeah, those nails aren't going up there looking like that.''

#katandnat #katyaromanoffpetrova #forgotten ghost series #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x fem!oc #natasha romanoff fanfiction #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff fanfic #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanov #black widow #marvel #mcu #wlw #lesbian #sapphic #natasha romanoff fluff

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vettelsvee · 1 month

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MY TORTURED DRIVERS DEPARTMENT REPUTATION'S VERSION

a formula 1 short stories compilation about my favourite drivers based on each taylor swift song from reputation

taglist: [@celemilii @theseerbetweenus @anniee-mr @stelena-klayley @lozzamez3 @0710khj @afterg1ows @vincentvanshoe @coco-loco-nut @minkyungseokie @lemon-lav @stinkyjax @seokjinkismet @c-losur3 @annewithaneofthegreengable @khaylin27] thanks to all of you who wanted to be tagged! don't forget you can join my taglist by commenting or telling me through dm <3

are you ready for it?

TACK 1 ...READY FOR IT | charles leclerc x reader ⋆ smau Y/N finally decides she's ready to start a relationship with Charles even people just hate her so much for her past dating other F1 drivers.

TRACK 2 END GAME | george russell x reader Y/N, after dating too many guys for fun, is finally ready to settle down her mind by starting dating George, her brother’s best friend.

TRACK 3 I DID SOMETHING BAD | fernando alonso x reader ⋆ smut Fernando has a night one stand with Y/N De la Rosa, his friend Pedro’s daughter. He knows that’s bad, but why the forbidden feels so good?

TRACK 4 DON'T BLAME ME | oscar piastri x reader Y/N is scared to start a relationship with Oscar not only because she’s broken more hearts than she can remember, but also because everyone told her she’s not good enough for the McLaren driver.

TRACK 5 DELICATE | max verstappen x reader Y/N started dating Max and, since the first minute, their relationship has been public. She’s so in love, she’s so happy to be with someone as nice as Verstappen, but she’s also so insecure and vulnerable about what others think about them.

TRACK 6 LOOK WHAT YOU MADE ME DO | lando norris x actress!reader ⋆ smau After breaking up with his boyfriend of three years, Y/N decides to move forward and show people that she wasn’t the villain of her and Lando’s story.

TRACK 7 SO IT GOES... | charles leclerc x reader ⋆ smut After having one of the worst fights of their relationship due to some photos that were leaked and the thoughts of the media and fans of Y/N cheating on Charles, the couple decides to solve problems in a not so talkative way.

TRACK 8 GORGEOUS | sebastian vettel x musician fem oc Sebastian decides to spend a weekend by himself next to Alessia Cavalli, the girl he might be falling in love with after his wife, Hanna, cheated on him. Sebastian is captivated by Alessia, but he can’t just express his feelings: not only the media will become obsessed with them, but also Hanna and the rest of Seb’s family. So, for now, not only Vettel, but also Cavalli, will have to be friends even tough they think about each other they’re gorgeous.

TRACK 9 GETAWAY CAR | george russell x reader After having a relationship with his teammate, Lewis Hamilton, and having broken up with him after many years dating, Y/N just need George as a getaway car.

TRACK 10 KING OF MY HEART | lewis hamilton x reader ⋆ smau Y/N was happy to be single until she met Lewis in one of the Louis Vuitton events.

TRACK 11 DANCING WITH OUR HANDS TIED | oscar piastri x reader Oscar really wanted to spend the rest of his life with his best friend. Y/N wanted to be honest with Oscar and tell him she was truly, madly, deeply, in love with him. However, things turn out to be different and they decide to hide their feelings because they know things will get worse if they're honest to each other.

TRACK 12 DRESS | sebastian vettel x singer fem!oc ⋆ smut Sebastian asks Diana, the girl who used to be her best friend and girlfriend, to go with him to FIA Prize Giving 2018. Diana, who’s a famous singer, decides to wear a dress only for Seb, the guy she still has feelings for and also the father of her daughter, to take it off. Will Seb still have the same feelings for Diana?

TRACK 13 THIS IS WHY WE CAN'T HAVE NICE THINGS | mick schumacher x reader After a meal with Mick's family and friends, Y/N finds out that the toxicity she was dealing with in her relationship with Schumacher wasn't just a thought she had but a reality she was living.

TRACK 14 CALL IT WHAT YOU WANT | sebastian vettel x reader After the loss of her mother due to Alzheimer, Y/N meets Sebastian in a therapy group, who seems to be his savior when her life was falling down to pieces.

TRACK 15 NEW YEAR'S DAY | carlos sainz x reader A proposal on New Year's Day is what Carlos' girlfriend wouldn't have expected after dating for almost nine years with the Spanish guy

203 notes · View notes

2baabbies · 4 months

Text

🖤 Obsessed (Hyunjin x Reader) 🖤

Pairings: established relationship hyunjin x reader

Words: 3800

Summary: Hyunjin’s jealous streak ends with you finding him in a compromising position. AKA: in your bed, masturbating while wearing your shirt.

(somewhat inspired by Olivia Rodrigo’s song by the same name; quote at the beginning also from this song)

Fluff + Smut + Humour

afab + fem!reader

CWs: jealousy (but make it cute and silly), reader is trying to make hyunjin jealous but only because it makes them both horny (and he’s a drama queen), he’s only a bit insecure, the point of contention is a big shirt but reader’s weight is not described (aka this fic is not limited to any one body size), reader and hyunjin have exes, reader lets hyunjin make assumptions that she teases him about later

Smut Tags: lots of teasing!!, (subtle) subby!hyune x dom!reader, intercourse (peanits in vagina), safe sex/use of condom, a bit of rough sex/uncomfortable position, reader has a kink for hyunjin’s desperation, begging, hair pulling, overstim, slight dumbification of reader, slightly pervy!hyune (smelling your clothes), hyunjin masturbates in your shirt (described in detail), little bit of voyeurism, bit of cum eating

!!ATTENTION!!

Reposting this fic to other platforms, including as a translation, is expressly prohibited. Do not copy, alter, or claim this fic as your own. Absolutely no permission is given to anyone to post my works, even with credit, and this fic should only appear on Ao3 or Tumblr under my accounts. Reposting is not only plagiarism, but a direct violation of my wishes as the original writer and owner. Please respect writers and don’t steal!

Likes, reblogs, asks and comments are very welcome and appreciated <3

~~~

‘And I know you love me, and I know it's crazy

But every time you call my name, I think you mistake me for her

You both have moved on, you don't even talk

But I can't help it, I got issues, I can't help it, baby’

It takes Hyunjin’s brain a second to register that something is wrong, and a second after that to actually take a look at himself and attempt to decipher what feels so off. He is still buffering when you return to your bedroom. You giggle at his bedhead and the cute expression on his face as he grabs the hem of his shirt and holds it up. He thought he had grabbed his white tshirt off the floor, and in his morning daze he had actually grabbed one of yours that you were too lazy to throw in the morning laundry. The graphic tee is far too big on him, even hanging off his shoulder, but you get a good look at the boxers he pulled on seconds before thanks to his hands lifting it up above his stomach. He drops the material and it falls down over his lap, unfortunately covering his soft tummy and pale thighs. He looks up then blinks away his sleep as you enter with a basket of clean laundry. You hold up his shirt and you giggle again at his sleepy smile.

“Looking for this?”

He nods and watches you drop the basket on the bed. You pull each freshly washed garment out for him and he shuffles over to loop his arms around your waist from behind.

“You let me sleep in…”

“You wouldn’t get up, sleeping beauty.”

He huffs and pecks the nape of your neck.

“You didn’t try hard enough…”

“Mhm, sure. You look cute in that.”

You admire him over your shoulder as he leans back and plucks the baggy fabric between his fingers.

“It doesn’t fit me…”

“I think that’s where the cuteness comes in.”

“I’m always cute…”

“That… I don’t disagree with that.”

He chuckles and turns you around so he can properly embrace you. You smile at him and nudge your noses together with a fond smile. He hums and nuzzles back gently, drawing your body tight to his with a content sigh.

“It’s so cozy… How come I hardly see you wearing it?”

You fail to realize at first that he is back to talking about the shirt, and take a moment of silence to contemplate his question.

“I wear it all the time. I think it’s just always dirty, I try to put something cleaner on when I know you’re coming over.”

You both laugh at your honesty.

“It’s really soft.”

“Well, I’d offer to buy you one but I don’t know where it came from.”

“What do you mean?”

“Someone left it over a while ago…”

You do not regret the words when they leave your mouth, but you can do little to fight your smirk as Hyunjin’s lips draw into a tight line. He then purses his lips and puffs his cheeks in a dramatic pout.

“Who?”

“Don’t be jealous.”

“I’m not jealous. Tell me who.”

You roll your eyes. Hyunjin was privy to the history of all your exes, situationships, and sexual escapades. You knew about his too. It had been relieving to be able to talk so candidly about your experiences with him, and it definitely allowed the two of you to become close early on in your relationship. There was something therapeutic about snuggling with your lover and bitching about the ones that let you down.

It did not, however, curb Hyunjin’s jealousy in the slightest. He knew their names, how long you were together, if you still talked, he even knew where some of them lived and worked. It would be alarming if you had not both offered all that information to each other willingly. And you knew, ultimately, Hyunjin would never restrict you from having a friendship with any of the exes you still talked to. Although you would never admit it, you treated his jealousy as a testament of his love. He only cared so much because he cared about you. Besides, it was a natural emotion, and the fact that he was willing to be so emotionally available did more for you than anything your exes ever did.

“We don’t even talk anymore, Hyune. I don’t think she’s even in this country.”

“She. She. Oh god, I know who it is.”

“No, you don’t-”

He falls out of your arms and to the bed with a heavy thud, wailing incoherently as you observe his theatrics.

“She’s the worst!”

“Well, that’s why we’re not friends anymore…”

He suddenly thrashes and tears the shirt off with an animalistic grunt. You cock your eyebrow up and watch him roll around in vain when it gets stuck on his chin. He manages to pull it off and whips it at the floor, breathless after his performance.

“Are you okay?” You ask.

“I can’t believe you let me wear her shirt.”

You scoff.

“Firstly, you’re the one that put it on. Secondly, it’s my shirt. She left it. Finders keepers.”

“I feel dirty.”

“You’re fine. And overreacting.”

You kneel on the edge of the bed and crawl up so you are sitting in his lap. He huffs and looks at you with a miserable expression.

“Why did you keep her shirt?”

“Because it’s a nice shirt, and I like it.”

“Get rid of it.”

“I will not. But, I’ll wear it less if that makes you feel better.”

“No. It doesn’t.”

You giggle.

“You’re being silly, Hyune.”

He looks away pointedly and you guide him back to face you by gripping his jaw. He swallows thickly as you, slowly, lean in to hover your face over his. You feel his shuddery breath on your lips, and bite down seductively to muffle the satisfied hum you release when you feel him hardening beneath you. He glares and scrunches his face with faux distaste as you dance your fingers up his stomach, then graze your thumb over one of his nipples. He shivers and finally lets the act drop, his annoyance melting into arousal as you peck shyly at his lips.

“Hyune,” You purr, “It’s okay if you’re jealous.”

“I-I know…”

You reward his cooperation with a teasing lick into his mouth, and carefully circle his nipple with light pressure. He whines and bucks up against you.

“You know how special you are to me. I love you, baby.”

“I love you, too,” He whimpers.

You respond with a sultry chuckle and begin stripping off your clothes.

There was a part of you that adored Hyunjin’s jealousy. It made him whiny, and needier for your affection. You would deny it vehemently if he ever called you out on it, but his desperation for your validation could have you dripping in seconds. So, it was a bit of a game between you. For the majority of the following week, Hyunjin would pretend he was unbothered when he saw you wearing that shirt. In turn, you would pretend that you were accidentally choosing it over all your other pajama options. While it may have been a bit unfair- or even mean- on your part to watch him squirm and stifle his complaints each time you pulled it on, it did not weigh on your conscience. You love each other; you trust he will let you know when his limit has been met.

And he does.

“Take it off.”

“Ha-ah,” Your eyes roll as you mumble back, “Hn?”

Your mind is fuzzy. Hyunjin has your ankles hooked over his shoulders and his cock pressed deep inside you. Your arms are limp above your head, fists clenching in the pillow supporting you. You tilt your head back with a moan as his hips rock against the back of your thighs in a steady rhythm.

“Baby, take it off, please.”

His fingers are curled in the hem of the white shirt, lifting it up as he ruts himself into your warmth. You huff out a laugh and tilt your head back to face him. You moan as you take in his heady groans and pleading eyes. His plump lips are parted to exhale a whine and his cheeks are impossibly flushed. You clench when he makes another pathetic noise and shoves his face into your neck. You smirk as your shirt gets rucked up to your breasts.

“I-I’m cold, Hyune.”

“Please. Please, please, please.”

He draws back and now you whine as his movements falter.

“Hyunjin?”

He raises his head and pouts, eyes teary as he looks at you. You shudder, feeling your heat gush at the sight. You are teetering on the edge of an orgasm, and your mind is scrambled with the intent to chase that high. You roll your hips and he gives a shaky thrust in return.

“Don’t make me beg, darling. I can’t take it anymore.”

“Mhm! M’okay, take it- take it off, Hyune.”

His touch is deft as you lift your arms and he slips the shirt over your head. He throws it behind him, then draws a gasp from you when he repositions himself above you. Your mouth is agape in pleasure when he starts thrusting again, legs folded to your chest as he plows you into the mattress. You are thankful for the pillow, otherwise your head would be banging against the headboard. His tip almost kisses your cervix and you let out a breathless wail as humps into you, following each precise thrust with steadily rising groans. You reach up to thread your fingers in his hair and bring him in for a kiss. Your toes curl as his body melts into yours, and you finally reach your climax. You share more consuming kisses as he fucks you through your orgasm.

Hyunjin is soon following you, getting sloppier in his movements as his pleasure increases. He leans away, just enough to let you catch your breath. Your legs are trembling from the strain, and now from the overstimulation of his cock filling your fluttering cunt. He shakes his head when stray hairs stick to his skin and fall into his eyes, and you lovingly tuck each one out of the way.

“Hyune…”

“G-Good?”

“Mhm,” You nod and quiver, “M’good. Can’t think.”

He laughs and leans down to peck your lips. For a moment it looks like he has a quip lined up, but he just snuggles his head into your chest and lets out a ruined moan. You giggle as his thrusts stutter, then he lazily rolls his hips into you with a relieved hum. You let him ride out his release, kissing the crown of his head and playing with his hair as he lets out little moans and sighs of pleasure. When he finally stills, you reach between your bodies and gently push on his chest.

“Ah-ahn…”

“Hyune, you’re squishing me.”

“Hah, sorry.”

He groggily rises and lets your legs fall out of their tense position. You help him slip off the condom and discard it in the trash bin beside your bed. Your legs are numb, and you are a little shuddery all over from the lingering overstimulation. Hyunjin helps you get comfortable then melts into your waiting arms. You resume kissing and caressing him slowly as he tucks the two of you under the blanket and settles on top of you. He rubs his dumpling cheek over your heart and smiles when you giggle at him.

“I love you,” He murmurs, “You okay?”

You nod.

“I’m good, baby. I love you, too. You always make me feel so good.”

“Mhm, I’m sorry I was rough.”

Hyunjin massages your hips and gently squeezes your thighs. You hum and brush your fingers through his hair, tidying his mussed locks and ridding it of tangles.

“You don’t have to be sorry, babe. I loved it. You were perfect.”

“You’re perfect.”

He leans up to share a sweet kiss, stroking your cheek as your lips meld together. When you part, he pecks your chin then lets his lips trail down your neck. Your eyes flutter and you exhale peacefully as exhaustion overtakes you. Still, you stay awake when he brushes his lips over your ear and whispers to you.

“Thank you, for taking it off.”

“Mhm. Jealous baby.”

He whines at your teasing tone.

“You’re so mean.”

“And you’re ridiculous,” You murmur as you drift off, “But I still love you. You’re my favourite boy. My one and only.”

He nods and pecks your cheek. “I know. You’re my one and only, too, baby.”

The morning arrives peacefully. You wake up before your alarm, and enjoy a few minutes of admiring Hyunjin’s sleeping visage before you slip out of bed to get ready for the day. He is still sleeping after you finish your routine, completely undisturbed as you get dressed and check your phone. You still have some time before you have to go, so you sit beside him on the bed and card your fingers through his hair as you scroll through your phone. He stirs and looks up at you blearily when you run your thumb down the bridge of his nose.

“Mh?”

“Good morning, baby,” You peck his forehead, “I have to go out. I have a couple errands to run. I won’t be long, okay?”

“Mhhm.”

You tuck him in and kiss his temple as he nuzzles his face into a pillow. You giggle and leave with a fond smile.

Hyunjin wakes later, before you return, and pats the empty space beside him until he realizes you are not there. He rolls onto his back to look around and swipes a hand over his face as he fights his disorientation. Eventually, he vaguely remembers you kissing him goodbye earlier when he was somewhere between sleep and wakefulness. Unfortunately for him, he has no clue when that was or how much longer it will be until you get home. He lets out a frustrated sigh for no one but himself and eases himself out of bed. He pulls on his boxers, finding them among the pile of other clothes hastily discarded when the two of you fell into bed the night before, and shuffles to the bathroom.

He is a bit more awake when he returns to your bedroom, and pauses as it registers in his vision. White fabric, carelessly casted to the floor, sitting atop your panties and his hoodie. He scoffs at it, so it will know how he disapproves of it gracing his presence, and crosses the room to pick it up off the floor. He had not cared to look at the white tee any more closely once the idea of you wearing someone else’s clothes crossed his mine, but he is drawn to dissecting it now. He does not recognize the print on the front, some band or characters you never mentioned, but he does admire it a bit now. Ultimately, he understands why you kept the shirt on an objective level. It is nice, albeit a little worn, and there is nothing aesthetic-wise that he dislikes about it.

Hesitantly, he toys with it before bringing it to his nose. He gives a tentative sniff as he recalls your words from a week ago. I wear it all the time. I think it’s just always dirty. The shirt definitely did not smell like fresh laundry, or whatever he was expecting it to smell like. It smells like you. He cannot place it, there is a mix of familiar smells invading his senses; the remnants of your body wash, a hint of the candle you light after stressful days, the trace of your hot scent that drives him crazy during your intimate moments. His eyelids flutter and he groans, pressing the fabric to his nose and inhaling deeper. He recalls how comfortable the shirt was to wear before he learned of its origins, and begrudgingly pulls it on before crawling back in bed.

Missing you is torture for him during the rare moments he wakes up alone in your bed, but wearing your shirt settles his loneliness for a bit. That is, until he gets restless again. He could go find his phone, wherever he abandoned it when you two started getting handsy the night before, but he is already so comfortable under the covers. The only thing missing is you. He pulls the collar up over his nose and breathes in, momentarily subdued by the illusion of being enveloped by you. Then he remembers the vision of you from last night, wearing this same shirt and taking him so dutifully in this same bed. He groans and curses himself, reaching down to palm over his growing erection. The shirt, still too big for him, adds an extra obstacle between him and relief as he strokes himself leisurely. He shucks his boxers off under the blanket and reaches under the shirt to grasp his cock firmly. He groans and gives himself a rough squeeze before jerking himself slowly.

One hand holds the shirt up over his nose while the other roams over his length. He wishes it was you. He bucks his hips up at the thought of you touching him and puffs sharply into the shirt. He squirms, the tip of his cock rubs against the inside of the shirt with every stroke and creates a delicious amount of friction. It is so soft, gliding against him without any discomfort and very little resistance. His hips jump again and he has to clutch the base of his cock to stop himself from climaxing too quickly. He discovers that he can taste your scent stronger if he inhales through his mouth, and before too long is panting desperately as he thrusts into his fist. He is too hot now, and kicks off the blanket before resuming the rhythm of sucking in deep breaths while fucking into his own hand.

He is almost there now, possibly on the verge of cumming faster than any other time he has touched himself. He watches his cock strain under the shirt through his eyelashes, and whines when his precum begins wetting a spot in the white fabric. It sticks to him now, turning a bit translucent where his arousal beads through the material. His eyes pinch shut and he controls himself again. He does not want to finish so quickly. This feeling of pleasure is new to him, being smothered in your scent and comfort with the perfect sensation helping him get off. The only thing that might compare is actually getting to fuck you, but this is so different.

He cannot edge himself any longer, the pleasure that has been pooling has become too much. He begins jerking himself faster, ignoring the dry scrape of his unlubed palm on his shaft. He collects some of his precum and uses that to ease his motions. It helps just enough and allows him to reach his climax without further hesitation. He cries out and pants out a series of whimpering moans as his cum shoots out in thick spurts.

You lean in the doorway, watching his release soak through the fabric and further dampen the spot over his cock. You had been watching since he kicked the blanket away. In fact, you knew what he was doing when you entered the apartment and heard his soft moans ringing out in the silence. What you had not expected was walking in on the scene before you- but you were far from disappointed. You let Hyunjin recover a bit before speaking up. He tugs down the collar of the shirt and heaves in a much needed breath.

“I thought you didn’t like that shirt?”

He jumps and throws his palm over his face.

“Fuck.”

You laugh as his other hand slips guiltily out from under the shirt and falls limp on the bed, a bit of his cum sticking between his fingers. You saunter over to the bed, leaning in to run your hand up the inside of his leg as you walk up alongside him. He shivers and peeks at you through his fingers, chest rising and falling quickly in anticipation. Your hand takes his wrist from where it lies on the bed, you hold him firmly as you ease down to straddle his lap. You hold up his messy fingers, almost in admiration, and meet his gaze as you suck them into your mouth. He groans and lets his other hand drop so he can watch you lap each one clean. Your lip twitches as you guide his fingers over your lips, smearing your spit as you lead him to cup your cheek.

“Well?”

“Huh? Oh, the shirt, right,” You giggle and silently urge him to reply, “I-It’s alright. I still don’t like it.”

“Really? You seem to like it, at least a little bit.”

You pry the shirt up from where it has begun to stick to his cock and he hisses. You tilt your head and run your thumb over the patch of soiled fabric thoughtfully.

“O-Only because it smells like you.”

“Oh? Is that it? Are you still jealous?”

Hyunjin sets his jaw and avoids your gaze for a moment as he licks his lips nervously.

“I don’t know…”

“Be honest, Hyune.”

His eyes flick shyly to yours.

“It’s not easy just to… not be jealous. You know that.”

“Mhm…”

You move up his lap, not caring when you settle onto the dirty patch or his oversensitive cock. He watches with a worried frown as you brace your hands on either side of his head and lean over him.

“Wanna know a secret?”

“Yes,” He breathes, looking up at you expectantly.

“You’re jealous over someone who I never had feelings for, and who never got to touch me.”

His eyes widen then narrow.

“But, y-you said your ex left it!”

“Ah-ah- I said ‘someone’ left it behind. You were the one who assumed I was ever into that person.”

He puffs his cheeks and glares softly.

“You lied to me.”

“I didn’t lie, I just didn’t correct you. You shouldn’t have assumed you knew who forgot it.”

“You set me up.”

You laugh.

“I set you up? For what? To catch you jerking off in my shirt?”

“Yes!”

Your laughter intensifies and Hyunjin fights his smile. He looks embarrassed, face still flushed, but the twinkle in his eye as you become breathless above him seems to signify his ease with the circumstances. You sigh happily and lean down to reward him with a deep kiss, which he eagerly returns.

“How about we get you clean, hm?”

“Sounds good to me.”

You giggle and tug at the shirt playfully.

“And I’ll get our shirt washed up.”

“Yeah, you let it go too long. It’s way too dirty to wear now.”

You snort.

“Okay, actually, you can wash your own messes.”

He grins.

“I love you.”

“I love you too, Hyune.”

#stray kids fanfic #stray kids smut #hyunjin x reader #skz x reader #skz x y/n #skz x you #stray kids x reader #stray kids x y/n #stray kids x you #skz fanfic #skz reader insert #stray kids reader insert

200 notes · View notes

goldenbuckyyy · 2 years

Text

MADE FOR LOVIN’ YOU

Summary: After catching your boyfriend cheating on you, you find an escape with your old best friend.

Pairings: Eddie Munson x fem!Reader, Jason Carver x fem!Reader

Word Count: 5.2kish

Warnings: Cheating (readers partner on reader), Angst, readers feelings are hurt, crying. SMUT (!!) slight dry humping, making out, vaginal fingering, raw sex, unprotected sex (!!!), multiple orgasms, dirty talk, cream pie, exhibitionism kink, seniors in high school, season 4 vibes, Eddie didn’t fail in this world. Anything else? Let me know!!

A/N: I got this request (idk why I can’t tag the person, but it’s @lilsp00nvstheworld) and holy shit!! I totally fell in love with it and then this happened!!! Song inspo: “I was made for lovin’ you” by KISS

All my mistakes are my own. Please do not repost or translate my fics on any other site nor this one.

I appreciate any likes, reblogs, messages, and interactions. Please message me your thoughts!!! It fuels me!

Masterlist

Eddie Munson hated Jason Carver.

Absolutely hated him.

He fucked hated his guts. The stupid blonde annoyed him to no fucking end.

He hated the way he walked. The way he talked. The way he acted as if he was king of the school. He hated the way he acted superior because he was good at basketball. It was infuriating.

He hated the way he was the golden boy of the school.

Mr. Popular.

He hated how just hearing his voice made Eddie’s blood boil. It made his insides turn. Made him want to vomit. Made him clench his fists in rage.

He especially hated how he had stolen his best friend away from him.

His best friend, Y/N.

His best friend in the entire world. Aside from his hellfire club. You were always his number one. Ever since the third grade.

But then, you both entered high school and you became a cheerleader.

You had managed to balance both hellfire club and being a cheerleader. But then at the end of freshman year, you started dating fucking Jason Carver.

And you chose him.

You chose that ugly sack of shit.

Eddie knows it wasn’t your decision. He knows Jason was the type of guy to give you an ultimatum. “Either you leave the hellfire club or I leave you” type of guy.

So, you left the club. You couldn’t even meet Eddie’s eyes when you had told him on the day before summer break that freshman year. Eddie was distraught. He couldn’t believe it. He remembers clutching onto your hand, begging you to explain, but you simply tugged your hand away and ran to Jason’s side.

Eddie remembers the smirk Jason gave him when you weren’t looking. That’s the day that fueled the hatred Eddie had against him.

He tried endlessly that summer to talk to you again. But every single time he went to your house, you either weren’t there or you told your mom to tell her you didn’t feel well. The look of sympathy your mom gave him never stopped.

Soon enough… he stopped trying.

Now, almost three years later, you guys are seniors. In your last year of high school.

And you’re still dating Jason Carver. Head cheerleader. The captain of the cheer squad. Best friends with Chrissy Cunningham. Miss popular. The most beautiful girl in school. Everyone loved you and without shame.

You’re beautiful, kind, funny, caring, and a total babe. A real sweetheart. And Eddie missed you. Missed you every single day.

He also thinks…

Eddie thinks a part of him still loves you. Eddie thinks he’s always loved you a bit. Ever since you guys became best friends. But.. you were always out of his league. Even as stupid young kids. So, he never tried to make a move.

And now, he hasn’t spoken to you since that day in freshman year. Not with lack of trying on his part. But he figured you were happy. Who was he to try and stop that?

So, he stood in the background and let you be happy.

He watched you prance around the hallways in your tiny green cheer uniform with Jason’s letterman jacket covering your upper body and his arm wrapped around your waist tightly. Never letting up. He’d kiss you sloppily against the lockers every chance he got and he’d even run his fingers in the inside of your thighs.

You’d instantly close your thighs, blushing furiously, telling him to stop, and he’d only try to keep going.

It always made Eddie furious to see this, but he never intervened. You had been with Jason for over three years already.

You knew him better than Eddie did.

Now, Eddie was at a celebratory party for the basketball team winning the playoff game. Eddie didn’t really mind coming to parties. He enjoyed the free beer. He enjoyed providing his drugs to pretty girls and handsome guys. Sometimes… sometimes if the night felt right, he’d end up in bed next to someone.

But tonight was a little different.

Because you were here, too.

Usually you and Eddie partied with two completely different crowds. But since it was the basketball team that was being celebrated, surprisingly the two groups merged together into one big party.

So there he was.

Sipping on his beer, huddled into a corner, laughing with his friends, and he sees you from across the room.

It’s almost like a magnet is attached to you by the way his eyes always find you in a crowded room.

You’re looking around, peering over different shoulders, a confused look etched on your pretty face, and you look amazing tonight.

Eddie bites his bottom lip as he zones out from the group conversation to admire you.

Your outfit is simple, but Eddie still thinks you’re the prettiest girl in the room. You’re wearing a pair of high waisted jean shorts, a striped brown with yellow oversized sweater, and a pair of white chucks. Your hair is still in the teased updo from the basketball game and you look flawless. You’re still wearing the makeup from the game and your lips are glossy. What a beauty.

Eddie watches you trying to peer over the groups of people. Probably searching for Jason.

He hears you ask another cheerleader if they’ve seen him and she says that she thinks she saw him going outside with Chrissy.

The way your face falls makes Eddie’s heart still and he sees you quickly turning on your heel and walking outside.

Eddie isn’t sure why, but he follows you. He follows silently behind you, not hovering, but close enough to where he can see what you see.

You make your way outside and you’re immediately peering over the dark corners of the backyard. You stop in your tracks when you see something from the corner of your eyes. You look down into the dark alleyway of the house and Eddie sees your frown with the tears filling your eyes at what you see.

You instantly turn around and run inside, covering your face, and Eddie sees you running up the stairs. You didn’t even notice him a couple feet away.

Eddie walks over and peers into the alleyway. He stops the gasp from escaping his throat when he sees your boyfriend, Jason Carver, making out with your best friend, Crissy Cunningham.

He has her up against the wooden panels of the house, her leg is wrapped around his waist, and he can see Jason finger fucking her underneath her skirt. They don’t even notice the second pair of eyes that have caught them tonight. Completely lost in their own world.

Eddie almost wants to beat him to a pulp right now, but he’s more worried about you than bashing Jason’s face in.

So, Eddie leaves them and goes back into the house. He goes up the stairs because he saw you run up them and slowly starts opening each door he comes across. Hoping he doesn’t catch another pair going at it.

But this is high school. He catches another girl riding some guy. He doesn’t catch their faces because he quickly closes the door shut.

He mumbles a few cuss words and proceeds to go down the hallway.

He opens the last door of the hall and that’s when he hears your soft cries.

“Y/N?” He asks into the dark room as he walks into it.

You quickly sniffle, wiping your tears away, and looking around for the voice. Your face crumbles when you see him. The moonlight shines bright through the open window, coating your features beautifully.

“Eddie?” He hears your confused tone ask breathlessly in between a sob.

Eddie quickly closes the door behind him as he walks into the room. Not wanting anybody to see you like this and rushes towards you.

He’s reaching out for you out of instinct and your arms are falling around him, you melt into his body, your face buried into his chest, and his ringed hands go to your hair. He tries to console you the best he can with the teased ponytail you’re rocking, he sticks with just twirling your hair in his fingers, and you cry into his chest.

“Shhh, it’s alright. Let it out,” he whispers to you as he wraps his free arm around your shoulders.

“D-did you see?” You ask, sounding a bit muffled, into his chest.

Eddie sighs, “He's a jackass. Doesn’t know what he has.”

You continue to cry into his chest, trying to control your breathing by matching his own, and holding him tightly against you.

“I’m so sorry, E-Eddie. I was such a bitch to you freshman year! Why are you even here right now? You should h-hate me,” you cry out as you tilt your head up to look at him.

Eddie’s already looking down at you with a small smile on his lips, he caresses your cheek gently, wiping away your tears, “I could never hate you. Never.”

“But—“

“Never,” he quickly cuts you off. “It’s high school. We all make mistakes.”

Your cries stop momentarily as you take a second to look at Eddie.

To really look at how much he’s changed in the past three years.

He’s really grown into his features and wow, he’s hot. He’s always been sort of hot to you, but you knew it would never happen. Because he was always your nerdy best friend.

His hair is the longest it’s ever been. Long messy brown curls frame his face perfectly and teased in all the right places. His full pink lips are resting nicely, looking wet and kissable. His big puppy brown eyes are looking at you warmly. As if you’ve never done anything wrong before. And you know it’s not the case. Because you’ve been such an awful friend to him.

You were supposed to be his best friend. And you betrayed him.

You whimper are your thoughts and Eddie caresses your face again.

“Hey, hey. What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours?”

“I’m… I’m really sorry, Eddie. I-I can’t believe I did that to you… and then now you’re consoling me about stupid Jason. God, I’m such an idiot!!” You move from his chest and cover your face with your hands, feeling angry with yourself for being so dumb, and ashamed for Eddie seeing you like this.

“Hey, hey…” he grabs your hands, pulling them away from your face, and holds them in his big ones.

“You’re not stupid, okay? He’s the stupid one. He’s the one who messed up here. Okay? Not you.”

He sounds so sincere. You look at him with a pout. “What about you?“

“What about me, angel face?” Your old nickname slips out of his lips with ease and you flush under the darkness.

“Do you forgive me?” You whisper low, feeling nervous, and your heart is racing.

“I mean… of course, I do. I was… I was hurt. I’ve been hurt for a long time. But all I’ve ever wanted was for you to be happy. And if Jason made you happy, then I let him make you happy.”

“Oh, Eddie.” You wonder how his heart is still so big and caring even after all this time.

You wonder why you didn’t fall in love with Eddie instead of Jason. Eddie would have never broken your heart.

You find yourself moving closer into Eddie’s space again. Your head tilting up to his, your lips ghosting above his own, and you feel Eddie’s body tense up against yours.

“What are you doing?” He quickly asks, his voice shaking slightly.

“Make me forget, Eddie.” You say lightly at him, your lips moving towards him, and you touch his lips slightly with your own. You hover over them for a little bit. Wanting to see what he does.

All you want is to forget and who better to help you… than Eddie. You’ve heard the rumors. You know he’s not a virgin anymore. You know he’s had plenty of sexual experiences. You’ve only had Jason. You want more than simple Jason.

You want Eddie. You want Eddie to rock your world and help you forget about stupid blondie.

“Please,” you whisper into his lips, your eyes peering up at him, and hoping he says yes.

Eddie is looking down at you, watching your pretty eyes eating him up, and he’s hesitant on doing this with you. He’s always wanted you. Always wanted to have you in this way. And he’s not sure if he should now that he has the chance.

But seeing the way your body is leaning over him, almost on top of him, your glossy lips hovering over his, he can smell your minty breath, and he knows you haven’t had a drop of alcohol.

This is all you.

Fuck it.

Eddie surprises you by gripping your face with his big palms and pulling you into him. His lips crash against yours hungrily, you moan into his mouth instantly, your body melting into his, and his tongue fights its way into yours.

He could taste your sweet lip gloss against his tongue and you could taste the slight beer on his. But you didn’t care. You could care less right now.

You’ve never been kissed like this before. Fire erupts into your belly.

His fast hands move down to grip your waist, pulling you more into his body, and he tugs you onto his lap after he adjusts himself onto the bed some more.

You wrap your legs around his waist, back arching into his chest, and you both don’t break the kiss. Your teeth clashing against his slightly as you both try to get a quick breath of air between open mouth kisses.

You can’t believe you’re kissing Eddie right now, but you can’t help but increase the speed in which you’re kissing. Your lips move against his hastily and hungrily.

Eddie moans at your eagerness against him, his hands moving from your waist to your bare thighs right underneath your shorts, and he grips onto your naked flesh tightly. Which makes you grind your hips into his.

Eddie pulls away with a groan as you tug onto his bottom lip. “Fuck,” he mutters as he watches you grind yourself into him again, your arms wrapped around his shoulders limply, and you look beautiful sitting on his lap.

You both are breathing heavily, staring into each other’s eyes, asking without any words if this is really happening, and you both simultaneously lean into each other to continue kissing.

His hands are tugging at the bottom of your sweater, trying to untuck it from your jean shorts, you pull away from him, leaning back on his thighs, and hitch up your hips to him.

“Fuck, are you sure?” He asks, breathlessly. His eyes locking with yours.

“Mhmmm,” you moan out, biting your lip.

With ease, Eddie unbuttons your jean shorts, tugging down the zipper, and untucking your sweater.

You don’t bother waiting to see what he does, your hands go down to the hem of your sweater, and you pull it over your head. Exposing your breasts which are covered in a black lacy bra, almost popping out of the cups due to all the movement you’ve been doing.

Eddie’s eyes move from your hips up to your breasts slowly, “Holy shit. You’re fucking…” His words stop flat in their tracks as his swollen lips pout in awe.

He moves his hands to cover your breasts and he squeezes them into his palms.

You gasp out in pleasure, rolling your hips against him, and moaning loudly when you feel how hard he is underneath you.

“Like that?” He asks you and you can only nod at his question. Waiting for his next move.

He lowers his head and starts leaving small peppered kisses all over the top of your breasts. You pant as he continues to move between both breasts and he unclasps your bra with his free hand.

The straps of your bra fall down your shoulders, your arms still wrapped around his shoulders, and you proceed to lean back to let your bra fall off your chest.

Eddie pulls away slowly when he sees what you’re doing and his eyes never leave your breasts. You let your bra fall off your arms and onto the ground slowly as you watch Eddie watching you.

He then takes his time palming each of your breasts in his big palms. Pinching your nipples in between his thumb and index fingers. Then, he goes on to lick and suck your nipples. Taking his time making sure you’re feeling the most absolute pleasure in everything he’s doing.

Your head tilts back in a moan, reveling in the bliss, and you don’t think Jason has ever taken the time in loving your body like this before.

Even when you lost your virginity to him, it was in and out. All these feelings were new to you and you didn’t want it to end.

Is this what it feels like to have a man worship your body?

Has Eddie always been this giving to his past lovers?

Eddie continues to kiss each of your breasts, leaving small bruises to remember this night all over your delicate skin, and he moves one of his hands to run his fingers along the curve of your waist. He smirks when he feels your body break out into goosebumps.

“Eddie,” you whine in wanting more, your eyes closed, and legs trying to grip onto him. Trying to relieve some of the built up pressure you’re feeling in your center.

“I got you,” he whispers into your neck as he sucks a bruise into it.

Your hands move underneath his shirt, trying to remove it to feel more of him, and he lets you.

You admire his naked skin, running your hands down his chest, and touching his new tattoos that you didn’t even know he had. And he smiles down at you. A toothy smile.

“Hot, huh?” He asks with a wink.

“You don’t even know,” you reply, kissing his lips again.

He kisses you slowly this time, but with the same sense of hunger. You almost jump when you feel his hand sneak into your panties.

You gasp out as you feel his fingers spread you open, feeling how wet you are, and he moans with you.

“Fucking drenched, angel face. All for me,” he says as he continues to cup your pussy with his hand, spreading you open, and slipping a finger into you with ease.

He slowly opens you up with one finger, his movements slightly constricted because of your shorts, but it doesn’t stop him. He continues to finger fuck you, inserting a second finger when he feels you’re ready, and goes in between your breasts to kiss each of them.

You’re already whining above him once again. His thick fingers feeling so good inside of you, clenching your eyes shut in pleasure, and you start rolling your hips against him to try and catch your impending orgasm.

Eddie moves away from your breasts and chooses to simply just watch you come undone in front of him.

He can’t believe he has you like this right now.

He watches the way your chest heaves up and down, your skin coated in a light coat of sweat, your eyes closed with your head tilted back, but you have a smile on your face. Your body is feeding off of the pleasure you’re feeling.

And Eddie is reveling in it.

He inserts a third finger, which makes you moan loudly, and he moves his thumb to your swollen clit. Which causes another loud rippling moan to escape from your lips.

Your hands move from the back of his neck to intertwine into his locks and Eddie continues with his movements.

He can already feel your legs twitching with your closing orgasm.

He wonders for a second if Jason ever made you come undone like this. He seems too self involved in himself.

He pushes Jason out of his mind and focuses on you again. The way your jaw is slacked open, soft whimpers coming out, and you’re riding his fingers so perfectly.

“Almost there, baby?” Eddie asks you and you can only whine in response.

He adds a bit more pressure on your clit with his thumb and continues to move his fingers into your tight walls. Your thighs clench around him, your lower stomach getting that familiar feeling that you usually get only with your own fingers, and you whimper sweetly above Eddie.

Your fingers grip onto his roots when you finally feel your orgasm take complete control over your body. Your legs are shaking, tears are pricking the corner of your eyes, and an exasperated scream breaks out of your throat as Eddie only increases the speed of his fingers. Milking out your orgasm as best as he can and he’s smiling like an idiot underneath you as he admires your blissed out state.

He slows down his fingers inside of you, sucking on the bottom of his lips, his eyes taking you in so greedily, and you pant above him. Your body relaxes against him in your post orgasm haze.

Your soft eyes slowly open, taking him in, and smiling when you feel how hard he still is under you. You untangle your hands from his hair and hold his face in your palms. You peck his lips, licking his bottom lip, and proceed to suck a bruise slowly into his neck. Smiling to yourself when you see the pretty purple bruise against his milky soft skin.

Eddie let’s put a moan at your actions, eyes hooded, and a dizzy smile on his face. He slips out his fingers from inside your shorts and grips into your waist. He gently lifts you up over his legs and you stand up in front of him. Your hands resting on his naked shoulders as your legs feel unsteady underneath you.

He starts tugging on the bottom of your shorts, pulling them down, letting them fall to your ankles, as you kick off your shoes, and watch his eyes fall down to your lacy pair of black panties.

“Fuck,” he mutters out, you reach down to unbuckle his belt, unzipping his pants hastily, and trying to tug them off as he’s sitting down still. He chuckles at your frustrated grunts, “Eager there?” You roll your eyes playfully and cross your arms over your chest.

Eddie mutters something under his breath and stands up, towering over you.

He kicks off his dirty Reebok’s, shoves his jeans down with all the chains hanging off the hoops, and brings down his boxers with them.

His thick, red-rimmed, hard cock springs out from the fast movement. Your thighs immediately clench together at the mere sight of him.

“Fuck me,” you blurt out and blush at your own comment.

“I will,” he replies cockily, his fingers reaching down to the sides of your panties, and he slowly pulls them down.

The cold air hits your warm pussy, making your entire body break out into goosebumps, and you shiver slightly as you kick off your undies.

Your pussy is glistening in front of Eddie and he can’t take his eyes off of you.

“Look at that,” he whispers. His fingers spread you open, “Glistening and all wet for me. C’mere.” His grabby hands hold your waist again as he helps you come back and sit on his lap. His cock sitting pretty in between you and you can’t wait to feel him inside of you.

You lean back, one of his hands is holding you by your back, and the other is holding his cock.

You lift your hips up, mouth open in a whine when you feel him move himself in between your folds, his pre cum spilling into you, and your wetness coating his thick cock.

His ringed fingers grip your flesh as he aligns you above his cock and swiftly slides into you with one movement. Bottom out in you easily, your tight walls suctioning him in, and you both whine at the connection.

Finally.

Your arms hold onto his shoulders, nails digging into them, and your head falls into his shoulder as you whine at how big and thick he feels inside of you.

You’ve never felt so full before.

You’ve never felt so open. So spread out. Your walls burn at how thick he is.

His cock is fitting perfectly inside of you, letting your body adjust to his size, and he almost comes undone when he feels you squeezing against him. Trying to feel more of him. His fingers digging into the fullest part of your hips as you both adjust to each other’s warmth.

“Oh my god, you’re so fucking big!” You whine out, biting the flesh around his neck, and leaving a trail of open mouthed kisses.

“Me? F-fuck, you’re fueling my ego. You’re pussy is fucking heavy, angel face.”

His grip on you never falters as he starts to move you up slowly, the tip of his cock at your entrance, and he moves you back down again.

You both whine again, feeling so blissful, so fucking wonderful.

“You feel amazing,” he mutters out into the curve of your neck, biting down gently, and he continues using your body as he pleases. Continues moving you up and down on his hard, pulsating cock. His hips meet yours as you start to increase the speed.

Rolling your hips into him as he moves you as he wishes, both moaning together, and the sweet smell of sex starts filling the room.

Eddie suddenly grips both of your hands, moving them behind your back, and holding them by the wrist in one of his own. He holds you steady, your body leaning back, but his cock never stops moving inside of you. You feel fucking amazing right now. Never having felt like this before.

You both look down at the same moment, both watching the way his cock pulls out of you and swiftly enters back into your soaked pussy, and they way you both enjoy watching.

Your nails dig into your hands in pleasure, your wetness soaking his thighs, and Eddie moves his head down to your breasts. You arch your back to give him more access as he swirls his tongue over one of your hard nipples, you cry at the pleasure that rocks into your spine, and he moves one of his free hands to massage your other breast.

“You fit my cock perfectly, fuck. You’re taking me so g-good. Oooohhh, honey. You feel like heaven, angel.” His thrusts only increase in speed, the sound of thighs hitting against each other fills the room, with the loud sound of his cock destroying your pussy.

You can feel your orgasm building up once again and it’s as if he can tell because he releases his hold on your wrist. You instantly reach down in between your bodies, and cry out when you finally reach your awaiting clit. You hold onto Eddie with your free arm wrapped around his shoulders and he buries his head against your breasts, but continues to hold your hips to keep the pace fast and hard.

“Oh, f-fuck!! E-Eddie, I’m s-so fucking close. D-don’t stop! Are you close?” You whine out, increasing the speed of your finger against your clit, and you squeeze his cock inside of you with your velvety walls.

“Oh, sweetheart.. I’m fucking close. Keep going, k-keep touching yourself,” he sucks a couple more bruises into your breasts and then he moves his big hands to the bottom of your ass, cupping both cheeks roughly as his thrusts continue to enter you deeply.

Your head is tilted back, jaw slacked, mouth open in your whining, your bodies melting together into one, and you feel your orgasm almost taking over.

“That’s it,” he coos you and then suddenly, you hear the door open loudly. The door hitting the wall in a bang, but Eddie’s doesn’t stop your movements and you don’t either.

“What the fuck?! Y/N! What the fuck are you doing with this f-fucking freak?!” You hear your boyfriend's loud voice yelling into the room, but you don’t care. All you care about is your orgasm. You need to come undone on Eddie’s cock. That’s the only thing on your mind right now.

“Shut the fuck up, Carver! And look at your beautiful fucking girlfriend drunk on my cock,” Eddie yells back at him and you finally reach your climax, tears prickling the corner of your eyes.

“NO! What the fuck?!” Jason yells from the door, slamming his closes fists onto the wall next to him, his eyes locked onto your fucked out body on top of Eddie, and he can’t look away.

The stimutanous feeling of Eddie fucking you hard and the pressure you’re putting on your clit feels overpowering. And somehow being caught by Jason fuels a kink you didn’t know you had.

A loud scream explodes from your throat and Eddie follows suit with a loud groan. His thrusts don’t slow down, instead your release triggers his own, his cum spurts out and coats your walls, your pussy clenching around him, squirting on him, and your thighs are shaking. The most overwhelming orgasm you’ve ever felt consumes you.

“Be fucking loud,” Eddie demands against your neck as he watches you come undone.

Your whining loudly still, your vision turns hazy with spots filling the corners, your hands gripping onto him as you come down from your climax, and you let out a breath of satisfaction. Your body feels like jelly against his.

Eddie’s breathing is jagged underneath you, a smirk on his face as he pulls himself away from your breasts, and you finally take a look at the door.

Jason is standing there, a shocked look on his face, mouth dropped, wide eyes, and he’s speechless.

You can’t help, but notice how hard his dick is in his khaki colored pants.

Eddie must have noticed, too.

“Liked the show, Carver?” He asks cockily as he gently lifts you up over his throbbing cock, you hiss at the sensation and the emptiness. You stand up and you clench your thighs together when you feel Eddie’s cum leaking out of you.

Jason doesn’t even speak. He’s only watching. His eyes moving down your naked bruised body and locking onto your fucked out pussy.

Eddie maneuvers his hand in between your thighs, his eyes on Jason, and pushes his cum back inside of you. The squelching sound of his cum getting pushed back inside of you makes your knees buckle.

You moan at the feeling, squeezing around his fingers, and you look at Jason.

“I saw you with Chrissy,” you say causally and his eyes snap to your face. “We’re obviously over. So… maybe get the fuck out?“

Jason looks as white as a ghost and he quickly rushes out the room, slamming the door shut behind him.

Eddie’s fingers are still in you when you look down at him and he’s already looking at you, with a smirk on his face and he bursts out laughing. You follow suit, a loud giggle bursting through your lips.

“Did you see his face?“ He asks between his laughs.

“It was priceless,” you say as you kiss his lips.

“Mmm,” he moans into your lips, “Pussy so tight for me. Filled with my cum.”

“Want to go again?” You ask, eyes glittering with want as you met his own.

“Fuck yeah, but I want to take you home instead.”

“Okay,” you whisper against his lips with a smile and a small kiss.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader smut #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson #eddie munson writing #eddie munson smut #eddie munson stranger things #stranger things #season 4 #stranger things s4 #eddie stranger things #eddie munson angst #eddie munson best friend

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keravnous · 9 months

Text

wanna go where the girls are young and dumb? ; christoph waltz x fem!reader (smut, 18+)

being c. waltz's sugarbaby - the playlist

Your mother dragged you along to southern France for the summertime. Thus, you are forced to spend your spring break with your stepdad.

warnings: stepdad!christoph, lowkey sugardaddy!christoph, age gap (the reader is in her early 20s, christoph is in his 50s), finally putting my native language to good use, daddy kink, light choking, power play, riding/reverse cowgirl, fingering, pet names, name calling, unprotected sex, slight cumplay and breeding, multiple orgasms, viagra (unrealistic effects), controlling/possessive!christoph, bratty!reader, christoph's a little dark in this so heed the warning, he really just wants to wreck you he's been waiting long enough

translations: Liebes - love; Na, sieh mal einer an wer uns heute noch mit ihrer Anwesenheit beehrt - Well, someone's seen fit to grace us with their presence; Oh, das machen wir aber nicht - Oh, we won't do that, won't we

word count: 11,4k

choosing a gif for this was really just playing what's my favourite waltz era

the title is from the song young & dumb by cigarettes after sex

thank you v for not giving up on me <3

"Na, sieh mal einer an, wer uns heute noch mit ihrer Anwesenheit beehrt. Where have you been?", your stepdad's voice is hard enough to cut steel and you freeze dead in your tracks, white heels dangling from your hand. Well, fuck - so much for sneaking back in quietly.

The huge wooden doors to the living room are opened - and you can see Christoph sitting on the sofa facing the lobby, in the shadows of the room, dimly lit by candles. Your feet are pressing against the polished marble, warm skin on cool stone. It's still hot outside, only a small breeze ruffling the leaves of the trees and rolling in through the opened windows, toying gently with the hem of your nearly see-through, white linen dress.

This place could easily be heaven on earth - the old, 18th century countryside bastide with its lush citrus and olive trees, near a cliff at the water and a sleepy, small town nearby - weren't it for the devil himself.

Your vision zeroes in on him - your mother's boyfriend and soon to be husband - and you try your best to glare into the dim abyss of the barely lit living room.

"Why do you care?", you spit, ready to storm upstairs. You just want some peaceful silence, not whatever the fuck he's on about.

And, like he can sense what you are about to do, like he sees the way your calf-muscles twitch, he says softly: "Don't you dare moving an inch, Liebes." His velvety voice drips with acid honey; a threat in candy-wrappers. A frost descends with his voice, making you shiver.

"I am not -"

"Where have you been?", Christoph asks again, voice menacingly calm. He sounds like he knows.

Like he knows, that you have been out to get laid.

You had met a pretty, young man and shared a few flirtatious looks with him at the farmer's market just yesterday. Your French was sufficient to get the necessities across and thus, he was quick to grasp that you wanted to fuck. Sneaking out of the house around 10 you rode your bike to his place, only to find out that what he had to offer in looks - long, dark, and curly hair and eyes like the ocean - he lacked in experience. He had been clumsy and after he tried to finger you for what seemed to be an eternity of aimless thrusting and unpassionate rubbing, you had told him to fuck off and drove back home. You just want to go upstairs, get yourself off, shower and go to sleep.

But you can't just say that, can you? And thus, you blink, unnerved, hissing: "You are not my fucking father."

You wish you could see his face, see his reaction, but it is hidden by flickering shadows. You decide that tonight's not the night to be the pawn in one of his strange games. Thus, you suck in a deep breath, before eventually sighing: "I am going upstairs. Good night."

"Ah ah ah", he scolds and you can see him taking a drag of his cigarette, the tip of it gleaming before he is exhaling smoke that curls into the air, the thick mist illuminated by the flickering glow of the candles, "Is that a way to speak to the man who keeps you in college?"

"I am not having this conversation right now."

"But I will", he raises his eyebrows and you feel glued to the spot, helpless.

Something prevents you from just leaving. You do not know what it is, but you recall a few encounters in which he had a similar effect on you - where he intimidated you into submission. Another shiver crawls up your spine at the thought.

"Step inside here for a moment, please", and as you don't move, his voice turns cold - like you are in real fucking trouble, "I won't be asking you again."

Making a great show out of your reluctant-ness, you groan, rolling your eyes, before you unwillingly drop your shoes onto the marble. Entering the living room, you sigh audibly, throwing your head back a little in exasperation, coming to a halt only a few steps into the room.

Christoph seems bored by your behaviour, deliberately stomps his cigarette out in the antique ashtray before crossing his arms. He's wearing linen, too - in a fruitless attempt to combat the heat - the first few buttons of his shirt opened. You can see the greying chest hair peeking through from where you are standing, dusted on his skin like silver threads.

You are annoyed - annoyed by the pretty young Frenchman who turned out to be an absolute disastrous disappointment, annoyed by being stuck here in the middle of nowhere, annoyed by the heat, annoyed by Christoph looking at you the way he does, annoyed by the way his strict gaze has your stomach tingling.

Annoyed by how pretty he looks in the golden candle light.

The thought hits you like a chair to the head and you sway a little, hands gripping the edges of the armchair in front of you. You swallow, trying to fight the thought. The light toys with his features, has his eyes gleaming and the grey hair on his temples looking like fluid silver.

You can feel his gaze roaming your body, burning and heavy, as his eyes wander up and down - taking in both, your curves, and your underwear visible through the white linen.

"Come closer."

You do not want to. You want to hide behind the chair, safe from the confusing mind games he likes to play.

But you don't. Instead, like a puppet on his strings, you take two steps forward and into the room, standing there uselessly. Disarmed, your only weapon left is your tongue.

"What the fuck do you want?", it comes out rude, brash. Christoph chuckles, unimpressed. For a second, you two just stare each other - a silent battle of authority and obstreperousness.

"Closer", is all he says, with the steadiness of a victory.

"I don't have time for this", your voice breaks, irritated and a little unsteady around the edges. Christoph looks at you, unfazed but something small changes. It's in his eyes, something that grows stern and unrelenting. If your little display of brattiness a few minutes earlier was a joke to him, your behaviour now was an insult.

And thus, a little intimidated by him, you comply, carefully taking a few steps forward until only a couple long strides part the two of you.

It does not seem to satisfy him.

"Closer."

You furrow your brows and close the gap, mere inches between your and his knee. He looks up at you, eyes cold.

"That's it. Sit", you blink dumbly as Christoph pats his thigh, his tone light in an odd, uncanny contrast to the way he looks at you.

Alright, no. Absolutely not.

You aren't sure if he's joking. It must be a sick joke. Maybe he finds it funny: his adult stepdaughter sitting on his lap. You do not move.

You are certain, he will break any second - for Christ's sake, he's an actor - he's just joking. He will break. His lips will curl up any second now --

Looking at his serious face, stern gaze boring deep deep into your soul, you grow certain that he is indeed serious. Very serious.

You gulp. "I am not doing this. This is so fucking inappropriate."

"And I am not discussing this. Sit."

God knows, Christoph isn't - never was - very patient. And you can feel it, too; he oozes with it, the way his gaze grows cold as ice and you nearly stumble over your own feet as your body gives in. He is fucking intimidating, especially when the façade of the European gentleman crumbles, drops, like it does right now - leaves you wondering, what he is capable of. And you do not want to find out. Thus, your brain barely has enough time to fight it or to reason with you, you step closer and sink down on his lap. You legs dangle over his left knee while you avoid his gaze.

Let's get this fucking over with then.

"There you go, that wasn't so hard, now, was it?"

"N-no", you shake your head, feeling the heat of his body radiating through both of your linen clothes. It should feel odd, and maybe it does just a little, sitting on your fucking stepfather's lap like this, but -- it also doesn't feel that bad. It is strangely comforting, with his rich, warm scent now wrapping you in. You have always liked his perfume - a subtle wooden scent, of vetiver and a subtle splash of mint. Sublime, sophisticated.

One of his slender, large hands wraps around your hips, holds you in place, the other gently takes your hand, fingers brushing over yours.

"I -- where's my mother?", you hold onto it like a lifeline.

"Asleep." And there it goes - the lifeline slips out of your hands and you drown in the dark, deep sea that is his presence, all light out of reach as you sink deeper, nothing else remaining but him. Still, you can't help but notice that his voice sounds cold, distant, and you wonder why.

You recall something your mother had told you just days before the flight to southern France. Her voice echoes in your skull as you remember sitting in her spacious living room, picking out a few dresses for her to wear on vacation. "He's not even touching me anymore, honey, I don't know -" - "Ew, Mom! I don't wanna know, my god!"

You wonder, if their little paradise is already crumbling, turning ugly around the edges, and a part of you wishes for it to be true. You want him gone. But there's also a small voice in the back of your head that panics at the thought. You like your life like this - you can't deny the fact that he keeps you afloat financially, that whatever you want or need - you don't even have to ask for it, he just buys it. Like it's nothing. It's comfortable and easy and you would most likely miss it.

No - you are certain you would. Life's never been that easy for you.

It's fucked up, really. You still remember meeting him, and in the beginning, you got along just fine. Blimey, even.

Getting to know him started off well. Your mother had met him at the theatre while he had been working there and despite her being shy around him, he quickly convinced her to Just try it. The first time you had met Christoph in person was at a dinner at your mother's place during Christmas break and he had been so charming, so soft and well-spoken that he had made you feel right at ease, even though you were sitting across someone so familiar with the limelight and the high society of Hollywood.

It had been nice. You found out that he was recently divorced, with children around your age. You told him about college and your future goals. It had been homely and down to earth, just nice.

And thus, you didn't think much of it as last year's spring break rolled around, returning to your childhood and now their part time-shared Los Angeles home, as he was knocking on the door of your old teenage bedroom. "It's just a little something I got you - a special gift for my new stepdaughter, perhaps? The sale's lady said it would be - quite fitting - for a young woman your age." And Christoph had been so so charming that you didn't think much of it, as you unwrapped the large box.

Inside had been a set of lingerie, made of fine, white lace with frills. The soft fabric had felt and looked expensive and you had gasped - the set so pretty that for a short while, you had forgotten how inappropriate it was for him to gift you such things.

As you finally, after returning to your dorm and showing the gift to your roommate ("Girl, that's just creepy."), came to realize just how wrong it was, a sleek beige box awaited you on your bed one night in the dorm as you returned from your classes. Inside had been a Chanel dress, all pale-pink, flowers and bows ("Shit, that one's kind of pretty").

Christoph had kept sending you gifts: jewellery, dresses, lingerie. You dutifully called every single time and thanked him and he usually only chuckled, stating that it was nothing. You know you should have told your mother. It felt off and you knew that it was, too.

But you just didn't.

Unbeknownst to you, he was testing the waters. Every time you'd see him from then on, he would put you through agonizingly long inquiries about what you did on campus, who you were seeing. He would make it painfully obvious that he was checking your credit card billings and whenever there was something out of the ordinary, he would bring it up casually in the following conversation.

You remember going out with some guy from your lecture, meeting at a place you had never been at before. The date had gone horrible and to not lead him on, you had paid for yourself - even though he insisted otherwise. Christoph had enjoyed seeing you squirm, bathed in your shame and uneasiness, as he asked you if the drinks were as horrible as he believed them to be.

That's when the tables kind of turned. You figured that he was just a rich and controlling asshole that had barged into your life, had belittled you and had ruined your fucking peace. Maybe he was an award-winning actor but to you, that didn't matter.

You were fucking glad, that he kept the relationship to you mother out of the public eye. You didn't even want to imagine the media attention. You didn't even want to imagine what he had to say about you - "My stepdaughter? Oh, she's just whoring about, that unthankful little girl, don't you worry about her."

His mellow voice rips you out of your memory. "So, what are we doing about you breaking my rules tonight?"

You nearly burst out a laugh - you are in your twenties; you are allowed to do whatever the fuck you want. His made up, bullshit rules do not apply to you - quite frankly, up until now, they did not even fucking exist to you. He never told you there were any in the first place.

Not that you would have cared, anyways.

"You have no authority over me", you say, but doesn't come out half as cool as you wanted it to. Christoph's lips curls into a smile, gaze wandering over your face. His fingers brush over yours and then he leans in, voice low:

"We both know, that is not what this is about."

Something in your stomach tingles and you want to rip it out with both hands. "What-", you whisper, seriously confused.

"I have seen what little - well, shall we call them movies, darling? - you watch when you're alone", he purrs and then smiles, all dimples and small lines around his eyes, flashes his white teeth at you. A shiver runs down your spine.

You blink dumbly. What? Jesus Christ, please no - oh no. Oh shit.

Mortification burns high on your cheeks; your skin grows warm and red with it. You immediately know what he's talking about and his invasion of your privacy has your head swimming.

"You checked my fucking browser history?", you blurt out.

"Checked", he huffs, seemingly amused, "If you leave your phone laying around unlocked--" Christoph shrugs, gestures helplessly as if he's trying to justify eating ownerless chocolates.

You can feel your gut sinking. "Y-you--", you can't help but wonder how much he's seen, what exactly he's seen. You can't help your mind from wandering there - wandering to what he thought, if he liked what he saw. Stop it, fucking stop it.

"I--?", Christoph smiles smugly, raising an eyebrow.

You wonder if he saw the countless videos of older men fucking younger women, making them beg and cry, teaching them manners. You remember one porn you have watched plenty of times - the one of a greying man tossing a young woman around, ripping her underwear apart, slapping her face and tits and railing her until she was crying, gripping her hair and spitting in her face.

You remember how deep you had plunged your fingers into your tight cunt, squeezing around them at the thought of an eloquent and handsome older man railing you until you couldn't walk, having his way with you for his pleasure, and his alone. Every single time you watched that one porn you came hard, harder than the time before, draining your sheets with your squirt until it ran down your legs. As fucked up as it is, just the memory of it has your pussy aching right in this moment, wetness pooling between your legs.

Shame crawls up your spine at the thought that he knows - that he has seen the frequency of it popping up in your browsing history. Maybe he had even clicked on it, watched it a little, indulged in your secret little fantasy. The thought has your cheeks burning red with humiliation, but there's also something else, something primal clawing at your insides, making your lower stomach tingle.

"This is none of your business", your voice is small and quiet, your eyes avoiding his drilling gaze.

"Oh, but what if it is?", Christoph's eyes gleam mischievously.

"Excuse me?", you blurt out, heart racing in your chest.

"Mh well", he weighs his head from one side to the other a little, as if he's carefully considering a thought, "You know, if you wanted what you saw in those little movies you could've just asked me?"

He says it so nonchalantly, as if he's talking about buying some milk. You blink, completely speechless.

"Do you want to know why? Why you could've just asked me?", and you nod, head swimming a little, "Because I do not want some dirt-poor, hicktown-boy touching what is mine."

Your breath hitches, and he shrugs. "There's no need for you to compensate your fantasies elsewhere any longer, Liebes, hm?", his voice is soft, dark and deep, like soft silk wrapping you in, "I can give you exactly what you crave."

It feels like your brain has just blown a fuse, blinking at him dumbly. His lips tilt up, one of his hands brushing over your knee. "You just have to say it, darling. Just say the word", and you feel like drowning in the grey sky of his eyes, loins tingling, "I can make you feel good, better than the young men can."

You swallow, excitement bubbling up in your stomach, hitching your breath. It's not like you haven't thought about it, about him - the memory buried deep, deep in the darkest corner of your brain.

You should say no. This is not okay, it will hurt your mother. It's not right. It is inappropriate, at best.

But you are also so fucking horny still, your whole body aching for a touch and the way he looks at you - your fucking stepdad who's a full-blown, silvery 30 years older than you - has tingles spreading through your limbs, fire spreading in your loins. Fuck it.

"Y-yes", you whisper instead of doing the right thing - the spirit willing but the flesh weak -,"Yes, please."

And then, he leans in.

Christoph's kiss is soft and firm, and goosebumps roll over your skin at the thought that it doesn't feel foreign or odd, like if it isn't the first time, he kissed you. It feels a lot like coming home, returning to a familiar touch - it's the way he grabs your waist, mostly, like he just knows how to touch you.

His hand brushes over the small of your back, tips gently stroking your warm skin through your dress, before snaking around your waist and pulling you closer - just as his tongue brushes over your lower lip. The other crawls up your leg, grabs the flesh of your thigh, gropes you and feels you up.

You part your lips obediently, letting Christoph's tongue slip past, brushing over yours. He tastes like cigarettes and liquor and you inhale deeply through your nose - his scent wafting around you, rich, and deep, and sophisticated.

One of your hands comes up, cups his cheek, and pulls him closer. You have never been kissed like this before, never with so much verve, so much lust. He kisses like only a man his age does, like he has tasted a hundred women, but decided you tasted best.

The hand on your leg sneaks higher, and you spread your legs needily, allowing it to slip past and between your thighs. Christoph wastes no time, his index-finger pressing against your pussy, gently rubbing it along your panty-clad folds. You are wet already; the fabric damp and you can feel your loins going up in flames as he rubs you through the thin lace.

Christoph eventually breaks the kiss, has you panting against his mouth, his lips curl up in a smug smile. His fingers dance of your cunt, gently circling your clit through your lace string. "Those boys never treat you right, do they?", he is right, he always is, has you gasping quietly, rocking your hips against his digits, "Only I get to touch you, from now on. Do you understand?"

And you nod, mind already a little hazy, nothing more important than the pulling in your stomach and the wetness between your legs. "Yes", you sigh, leaning into his touch.

"Yes --? You will address me properly", his other hand grabs your chin, "That's certainly not hard to do, now, is it?"

You swallow, your cheeks turning red once more as he digs deep into your fantasies. "Yes, Daddy", you say quietly, the word heavy on your tongue, fresh arousal flooding your cunt.

Christoph hums, visibly satisfied, thumb caressing your jaw and a soft gaze wandering over your face, takes you in, before it grows cold again, as he pulls his hands away.

"Let Daddy see what's his, then", and you follow his stern command.

Hooking your legs over his thighs you practically present yourself to him, the soft velvet cushions pressing against your calves as your back sinks against his chest - the soft material of your dress pooling between your spread legs. Christoph's hands roam over your body - from your hips up up up, brush over your stomach and then cup your tits through your flowy linen dress. His grip is firm and he squeezes them a little, making them spill out of your bra.

You gasp, looking down at his hands and watching the way they fondle your tits, pulling the hem of your dress down and hooks the fabric underneath your breasts. Being so lewdly exposed to him, reduced to being a pretty object to admire and to fondle with, has your head swimming, sparks shooting down your thighs.

"I'll show you off, hm, my pretty little girl? What do you think?", he whispers, one of his slender, large hands cupping your left tit and twisting your nipple between his fingers, "Taking you with me everywhere, let everyone see just how beautiful you are." You gasp, nodding frantically at the thought of being his pretty and expensive little arm-candy - all dolled up and looking pretty for him on the red carpet, adorned in shining jewellery and flowing dresses.

"Let's take this off, shall we?", Christoph tugs at the linen dress and helps you out of it, tosses it to the ground carelessly. You can feel his gaze roaming over your body as he looks over your shoulder, feel heat creeping up your cheeks as you suddenly realize that you wearing one of the lingerie sets, he had gifted you a couple of weeks ago.

A low growl leaves his throat, has the hairs on your arms standing up. "Have you been wearing this for him?", he sing-songs catatonically, his index finger hooks underneath the strap of your string, lets it snap back against your skin.

You have, but it makes you feel stupid now. Childish. Like you have done something laughable. Shame bubbles in your stomach and you feel the urgent need to explain yourself to him: "Y-yes, but--"

"Sh, be quiet", Christoph says softly, his hands casually making quick work of your bra, unclasping it, pulling the strings down your arms, and tossing it into the darkness of the room, "It's fine. You didn't know any better, did you, Liebes?"

"N-no, I didn't", you squeal, the cool air brushing over your hardened nipples, making you shiver while his hands run down your body.

"And do you think, it's fair that he gets to see you all dolled-up like this? In something I have bought you?"

Your teeth catch your lower lip as you shake your head. "Right", his thumb brushes over the strap of your lace string, "And why is that?"

You swallow. You know what Christoph wants to hear and you might just be very willing to give it to him. "Because I belong to you", you say quietly, your stomach fluttering after the words left your mouth.

"That's right", his thumb toys with the lace trimming of the string, "You always have, haven't you?"

You blink. "Huh?"

"Don't be stupid, now."

"I -- I don't-", and he tsks at your aimless stuttering.

"My pretty little airhead", Christoph coos, "Why do you think I bagged your mother?", and suddenly - it clicks. Like a heavy lock falling shut.

You remember the first day of rehearsal at the theatre. It had been his first day there and you had driven your mother, who was responsible for the stage designs, to work since she still had a broken thumb from working on the furniture and was pumped up on painkillers. Saying your goodbyes, you had been seeing him standing a few feet away, smiling at the two of you. You had paid it no mind - especially later, since he ended up going out with your mother. But he hadn't been smiling over the situation, he had been smiling at you. You. Not your mom.

The realization hits you like a freight train, leaves you breathless. "I always get what I want."

"Oh", you make dumbly, mouth agape a little, while his fingers dance over your panty-clad pussy.

"You are just a dumb little baby, aren't you?", for a split second his hand leaves you, only to come down rather hard, as he gives your cunt a firm slap, "I think, I might have to fuck some sense into you."

You squeal, a sharp gasp escaping your lips but you can't help it, as you feel fresh wetness pooling between your legs, rocking your hips against the palm of his hand. "Yeah, I thought so", he sounds rather pleased, lips brushing over the shell of your ear, "Nothing more on your dumb little brain than getting off, hm?"

"Y-yes", you croak, flinching as he strikes your aching cunt another time, moaning sweetly, "Daddy - fuck - p-please!"

"I know just how you feel", his other hand grabs your tit roughly, gropes you, pinching your nipple, "You made Daddy jack off to you so often, princess. Can't wait to see if you're really that tight."

And with that, he unceremoniously pulls your string to the side and you sigh, as your plush and hot skin gets exposed to the cool air.

One of his fingers immediately brushes over your slick folds, and you can hear him hum, a low sound that ignites your lust, has you gasping softly.

"Mh, so wet already, aren't you?", you are, you can hear it. You can hear your juices squelching as his finger runs up and down your cunt, circling your hole and giving your clit the slightest bit of stimulation. Your whole body tingles with it, and you look down, watch him exploring your wet pussy. And maybe, just maybe, you have thought about this, too - with your vibrator pressed snugly against your clit and fingers plunged deep in your cunt - maybe, the thought of him had been flashing through your mind, made you cum at least once.

Christoph's lips brush over your neck, goosebumps spreading over your skin, his free hand wrapping around one of yours. "C'mere, let me show you how wet you are for your Daddy, princess."

And you moan quietly, as he guides your hand between your legs, runs your fingers through your folds. You are incredibly wet, wetter than you have ever been and you gasp at the sensation as his hand guides your fingers through your slick. It's thick and watery and warm and your mouth falls agape at just how much there is of it. It drips down your cojoined fingers, that glide along your folds easily, runs over the palm of Christoph's hand and over his wrist.

"I have never seen a cunt wetter than yours", he whispers and you mewl, gaze dropping down between your legs, watching him guiding your fingers over your pussy. The grip on your fingers is firm and his movements come to a halt, as your digits brush right over your clit. Your breath audibly hatches and you mewl, the slightest bit of stimulation already having you begging for more.

Christoph grins against your warm skin, teeth brushing over the soft flesh. He knows that you had had sex before - he has seen the messages you sent to your roommate about the boys from class, about the one with the pretty blonde hair - but he can't help but notice how you turn into puddy in his hands, like you have never been touched before. Like a fucking virgin. It makes his blood boil, dick straining against his trousers, wanting to see you come apart under the touch of his hands. He wants to see you go insane on his cock, until there is nothing else left but him - all your flings from college washed from your mind - a clean slate for him to claim, ruin.

"Are you always that needy? I don't even want to think about how poorly he must've touched you", Christoph mumbles against your neck, tongue darting out, licking a wet stripe over your warm skin before moving his fingers along with yours, rubbing slow and wide circles over your clit, "I bet it was downright pathetic."

Your hips buck and you gasp, eyelids fluttering. "Oh god, yes", you breathe, feeling your own wetness beneath your fingertips, and the lust sparking in your loins like a wildfire, "Yes, it was."

The way Christoph touches you is just so so different from what you experienced earlier - his slender fingers move yours skilfully, rubbing your clit like he just knows how you like it, like he's done it a hundred times before. You sink back against him, and he gently removes your hand from your cunt, places it onto your thigh instead - lips brushing and sucking on the back of your neck. "Let me show you how good I can make you feel, darling", he hums, "Let me show you how a real man can make you feel."

And with that, he unceremoniously pulls the lace of your string apart, riiips it cleanly in two, lets the fabric fall to the floor, before spreading your legs further. His fingers dance over your cunt, gliding through your slick, before two of them dive back in on your clit. Rubbing wide, slow circles he has you gasping within seconds, watching his digits working you with your mouth agape - your hole clenches around nothing, hips bucking.

"Does that feel good, princess?", he sounds so so smug, like he knows that it does. You can feel your loins catching fire, slowly rolling your hips against his fingers.

"Y-yes, fuck yes", you huff, moaning quietly.

Christoph's finger delves deeper and circles your hole, has it fluttering under his touch, before he carefully pushes it in. You gasp, and he chuckles, feels the way your walls clench around him.

"You're so tight, princess", he pushes his finger in completely, curls it a little and you moan as it brushes over the spot that usually has you seeing stars - before he starts to move it slowly, agonizingly even, rubs your walls and feels you squeezing him.

Christoph can't wait to fuck you, to get his dick wet, feels himself growing even harder in his slacks at the thought. He has been thinking about it for so long, that touching you makes him a little dizzy, and it needs a whole lot of willpower not to throw you off his lap and push you into the cushions, ass up, pounding into you until you're a drooling, crying mess.

He really wants - needs - to take it slow, get a taste of every single second, make it last as long as he possibly can. He will make you beg for it, drunk with it; drunk with the way he is going to fuck you until you see stars, until there is nothing left on your mind but him and his dick pounding into you, his hands on your body. He had already made you dependant on him financially, and now, finally, he will own your body and its countless pleasures, too.

Christoph smiles to himself, all crinkled crow's feet, and white teeth, as you roll your hips against his finger, desperately adding some more friction. He loves giving it to you: pulls his finger out of you, only to push two back in, stretching your hole out a little. You are so fucking tight around his digits; he can feel the ring of muscles clutching and straining against his fingers. "No one's ever fucked you real good, Liebes, I can tell."

He shoves his fingers deeply into your cunt, gives you a short moment to assess to the feeling, before moving them slowly, fucking your slick in and out of you. First, your hips tremble and then you squirt, moaning deeply, wetness splashing against the palm of Christoph's hand. Gasping, you watch his other hand crawling between your legs, his index-finger slowly circling your clit.

Pleasure shoots through your body and you moan, goosebumps spreading over your body, your heartbeat rattling with lust. "Fuck", you gasp, head lolling back onto his shoulder.

With his lips ghosting over your strained neck, Christoph gently speeds up, harvests the desperate whines and gasps falling from your lips as he pushes his fingers in and out of you.

You feel like you do not even have to tell him what you want, what you like - it is like he hasn't only dug deep into your browser history, but also your brain - like he just knows which switch to flip, how to touch you and how to rile you up with a deadly precision. It also feels oddly familiar - his touch, his smell, your body pressing against his with lust and a thin layer of sweat - like he has known your body for years, like he had fingered and touched you a hundred times before.

And thus, you do not even have to vocalize it, that you need more, need it harder - he just knows, reads you like an opened book or a fucking road sign. Christoph starts to fuck you quickly, his fingers pushing your cream in and out of you, pussy gushing around his digits. Your hand flies to his wrist, clutches it tightly, as you moan and sigh, desperate of any sort of leverage.

The way he fingers you feels so fucking good and you wish it would never end, but you can already feel your muscles clenching and then his other hand starts to rub your clit hard, two slender fingers circling it quickly and you gasp, mewl.

"D-daddy", you shriek, walls clutching around his fingers rapidly as you feel your orgasm approaching quicker than any time before, "I-- I'm gonna-"

"Go ahead", he sounds amused, and the humiliation that floods you at his tone has your orgasm rolling over you, coming loose around his fingers on his command.

Shudders roll over your body as you cum, pathetic whimpers leaving your mouth while Christoph fucks you through your climax, fingers circling your clit and making you squirt against his digits. You are slowly coming back down to earth, a soft smile tugging at the corners of your mouth, before you moan, throwing your head back while you rock down on his long fingers, riding out your orgasm. Your juices squelch around his fingers as he rubs them along your walls, your squirt wet the sofa's cushions beneath. You can feel your slick running down your legs, and you gasp.

"There you go", Christoph coos, lips brushing over your exposed shoulder, his other hand still on your throat, thumb brushing over your jaw, "Doesn't that just feel wonderful, angel?"

You nod, a breathless Yes, Daddy escaping your lips - and you are just so turned on, fire in your loins and fresh wetness pooling between your legs, that you can't help it. You continue to roll your hips onto his fingers despite the last remains of your orgasm still rolling over you, gently and slowly rocking down, meeting the equally gentle thrusts of his fingers. Your cunt squelches as you squirt against the palm of his hand.

Christoph whistles lowly, pulls his fingers out of you - leaving you a whimpering mess - takes a good, long look at them in the dim, golden candle light. They glisten with your juices and he considers shoving them into your mouth for a moment, but the way you roll your hips onto him with your ass rubbing over his bulge, is fucking distracting, has him stalling.

"Oh fuck", you gasp, your head falling back on his shoulder, "Oh god, please, 'stoph, please please -"

"Oho", he chuckles smugly, "Still needy, little girl?"

You are. Your cunt aches, like you haven't just cum and made a mess out of the sofa beneath, but you feel so so empty. You need more. You need -

"N-need your cock, please! Daddy, please--", you roll your hips on his crotch, feeling his hard dick pressing against the soft linen, hot and heavy. He feels big against your wet and aching cunt, leaving stains on his expensive slacks, and you can't fucking wait to feel it inside of you.

Christoph grabs your hips hard, stalling your movement and pressing your slick pussy against his bulge. You can feel his hard cock twitching while you stain and wet the fabric and you moan, needily, while his tongue and lips graze over your shoulder, lapping at the soft skin.

And then, he suddenly buries his teeth in your shoulder - gentle but still hard enough to leave a mark - makes you gasp and sob, before he is licking over the bruised and red skin. Christoph's lips move up up up, over your neck, sucking and kissing. His tongue dances over the shell of your ear, his voice nothing but a deep rumble: "I can't wait to fuck you, darling. Been thinking about it a lot, I just can't get enough of you."

Your breath hitches, and you look over your shoulder, your gaze meeting his unrelenting one. "Please", you say quietly, his grey eyes boring into you, "Do it."

And then Christoph leans in, locks his lips with yours once more, licking into your mouth, while one of his hands wanders down, opens the fly of his pants. He is getting impatient now and you are, too, one of your hands joining his and pulling the hem of his boxers down. He is panting into your mouth, against your lips and your hand wraps around his cock, all hot and hard, gives it a few experimental strokes.

You wonder if he will fuck you like he kisses you; like he is going to swallow you whole, like he is never going to let you go again, with the way his nose digs into your cheek and his hands hold you close while his tongue explores your mouth in between open-mouthed kisses full of panting and groaning, leaving your lips plump and plush. You want him to fuck you like that - until there is nothing left but him.

His dick is bigger than you thought, long and just the right girth and you have trouble closing your hand around it fully. The way you stroke him, despite the angle being a little clumsy with your body in the way, has Christoph groaning into your mouth, licking your tongue, and gripping your waist, his other hand dipping back between your legs.

Your pussy is soaked, and he spreads your slick over the hot, plush skin - so responsive from your previous orgasm, that you gasp and moan against his lips, and he catches your lower lip, gently bites, and nibbles at it. Your hand massages his dick, your thumb occasionally flicking over its tip, smearing the drops of precum pooling beneath your digits. Eventually, Christoph is parting from you, cheeks blushed a little and pupils blown wide, swats your hands away. His voice is deep and dark, nothing but a low and soft whisper, that has the hairs on your body standing up as he addresses you again: "You fucking slut."

And that, that has you moaning. You never thought you'd hear such things from him, but the way his eyes grow dark and his voice rumbles in his chest you are certain, that something primal has kicked in his inner doors and makes itself comfortable. "First, you dress up like a whore for a hicktown-boy and now, all I have to do is to give you a cock and you're gone so quickly you won't even let go of it, eh?"

"It's jus'so big, Daddy, feels so good", you slur, already a little gone, trying to get your hands onto him once more. He tuts at you, shakes his head a little. "You'll get it back, sunshine, don't you worry."

Christoph grabs his dick with one hand - the other arm wraps around your frame and adjusts you in his lap, your naked, shivering body resting against his expensive linen - and presses it against your seeping hot cunt. The feeling alone makes your loins tingle, has you spreading your legs further.

You gasp, needy for him to finally fuck you, finally shove his cock into you. "Please, Daddy--", you whine, rolling your hips against his dick, wetting it with your juices.

"Been teasing me for so long", he sounds unnerved while thinking about it, his cock twitches against your hot cunt, "Did that get you off?"

"N-no", you mewl honestly, because you didn't, you did not know what you were doing to him. You feel guilty, wanting to make it right - to finally be good for him.

"Bet it did", he hums, not listening to you, "I will have to teach you some manners, one day."

Shivers tingle on your arms, run down your body and you nod, the promise of a punishment lingering in the air, your hole clenching around nothing at the mere thought of it. You need him - now. Need him to stuff your cunt, fuck you until you are a drooling mess, not a single thought remaining. "Daddy, please, just-"

"You know, I have kids your age", Christoph is slowly rubbing his cock along your cunt, the tip of it nudging against your clit, making you shiver and whimper. The complete and utter filth that leaves his mouth has you squirming on his lap, his tone - smug and calculating - makes him sound nearly proud that he's bagging someone as young and pretty like you. You can feel some fresh wetness spreading between your folds, warm and sticky, as he rubs his precum through them, eventually presses the thick tip against your waiting hole.

Christoph knows that you usually only let someone fuck you with a condom on, he has seen your contraception laying around in your room but he will make sure that tonight's a little different - he'll claim you, pump you full of his cum and make you remember the way it will mingle with your own juices.

Expecting you to protest as he finally pushes in without one on, he is genuinely surprised as you don't; instead, your hole flutters open, invites him in deeply, accompanied by the sweetest, softest, high-pitched moan he may have ever heard. The second your hot walls close around his dick, squeezing him tightly with your hole stretching around his thick cock, his face comes loose.

You can hear Christoph exhale deeply, a pleased and satisfied sound, his eyes falling shut and face growing soft as he relishes in the feeling of your throbbing, wet cunt. His dick isn't only bigger than you thought, it fucking feels like it, too. The thick head presses snugly against your cervix, while your hole stretches around its base, walls pressed against it, feeling his cock throb.

"Ah, that's it", he sighs quietly, hands gently rubbing your hips.

"'S good?", you slur, already a little out of it but wanting to be good for him, good for your Daddy.

"Better than I have ever dared to dream, darling", one of his hands brushes over your thigh, caresses the warm skin.

You sigh with the praise, hole clenching around the thick base of his cock while it stretches you out. "Y'feel so good, Daddy", you mumble, looking down to where his dick vanishes inside of you, has your cunt spread on it.

"That's my polite little girl", Christoph's hand brushes over your stomach, up up up and cups your right tit, gives it a firm squeeze.

"Why don't you start moving, sunshine? Make sure it will keep feeling good for me, hm?", he suggests, silky voice dripping with honey, and he lets go of a ragged breath as you do. Rolling your hips experimentally once, feeling his cock moving inside of you, and you quiver. It gently prods against your cervix with every moment, making you mewl and gasp.

Starting off slowly, you raise your hips and then move them back down carefully, feeling Christoph's cock stretching you out, rubbing along your walls. His hands brush over your thighs, your waist. "There you go, darling", he croons, lips brushing over your shoulders, "Keep going, make me feel good."

And you really want to - thus, you grow braver, lifting your hips and sinking back down quicker, rolling them on his cock. He groans, throaty and deep, hands digging into your thighs. You start to ride his dick, fucking yourself back onto him quickly, hands darting out to his knees, desperate for any sort of leverage as you lift your hips and sink back down.

Moaning, you throw your head back as your body sacks forward a little, back arched and Christoph gives your exposed ass a firm slap, before his hand snakes around your body, closes in around your throat. "Upright, girl", he scolds, has you gasping and straightening back up immediately. The hand does not vanish, instead, it adds pressure to your delicate neck, pressing your windpipe shut. Your hips stutter and your eyes widen, right before pleasure shoots through your body, hot waves of lust making you squirt against his cock. Your thighs clench, knees darting together. "Keep them open for me, baby girl", he huffs, his free hand darting between your thighs, grabbing your left and forcefully spreading your legs in the process.

Christoph's hand lets go of your throat, now laying gently against your soft skin instead and thus, keeping your upright on his lap, back arched. "Oh", you gasp, so fucking turned on, you might combust on the spot, "Oh, fuck -- Daddy!"

The hand on your thigh gropes you lightly, thumb brushing over your skin gently. You move up and down on his cock, cunt throbbing and walls squeezing him occasionally, while the tip of his dick prods against your cervix. The way Christoph's cock splits you open, rubs along your walls is delicious, has you gasping and whining.

"Mhm, don't you just look pretty, bouncing on your Daddy's cock like that?", the hand around your throat clutches once more and you moan, high pitched and whiny, hips bucking.

The lack of oxygen has your walls clenching around his dick as you rock down on it, hands desperately grabbing the linen of his slacks. The stretch in your back is deliciously painful, the hand on your throat adding to it.

Feeling your orgasm approaching slowly, you speed up a little more, the sounds of your slick skin hitting his cock filling your room, mingling with his groans and your whines. "There you go, sunshine", Christoph's praise is sweet and soft as you speed up a little more, rolling your hips up and down up and down, hands clutching the linen of his slacks, while you fuck yourself back onto his dick. You can feel your heart pounding in your throat, you can taste your arousal on the tip of your tongue, hear your blood singing with it.

With your cunt squeezing him, practically milking his cock as you rock down it, Christoph can't help but wanting more. The hand on your thigh sneaks between your legs, and he feels you shivering in his lap as his index-finger brushes against your clit. Your gasps are sweet and turn into dirty, wanton moans quickly as he starts to circle your clit with it and Jesus fucking Christ - he wishes he could hear it every day, when he wakes up, when he goes to bed, wishes he could just do nothing all day, only play with you, and make you cum over and over and over again. The way you roll your hips and fuck yourself onto his dick becomes more erratic, desperate and a little clumsy and his lips curl up - he just knows you're close.

"That's a good girl", Christoph coos, voice rough and deep, "Cum on my cock. Be a good girl and cum for me."

Adding pressure to your windpipe once more, he presses the hand around your throat down hard. Your hips buck wildly at the sudden lack of oxygen, lust shooting through your veins, while his finger rubs over your clit fast, in rhythm with the thrusts of your hips. You can feel your walls clenching heavily around his dick and then you cum, your orgasm hitting you with such force, that all you can do is gasp loudly. Any sound and thought is wiped from your body as your cunt squeezes his cock, pussy clenching and legs trembling, hips stuttering as you squirt and squirt, your cream gushing against his dick.

Christoph continues to fuck you through it, moaning quietly while you milk his cock, one arm wrapping around your waist and keeping you in place, the other slooowly letting go of your throat. You suck in desperate breaths, your senses slowly returning and you moan, high-pitched and sweetly, as you feel his dick pulsating inside of you.

"Yeah, just like that, sunshine", he groans, while he fucks you through your orgasm, cock twitching inside of you and shooting hot ropes of cum into your hole, painting your walls white, "Such a good girl, taking it all."

Humming with his praise, you spread your legs wide over his lap, letting his dick in a little deeper, welcoming his cum home. His free hand roams your inner thigh, gropes you gently, while he huffs and groans into your ear - the low sound making you shiver. You relish in the feeling of his warm body beneath you, feeling pumped full by his cum and his hands all over you, while your body grows a little sore, your pussy becoming plush and plump.

His dick is still buried inside of you, hard and hot and heavy. You feel so so full, with his cock preventing his cum from leaking out, only a few drops run out of your hole lazily, drip down his balls and onto the sofa. His cock doesn't seem to go noticeably flaccid, having you gasp and moan with the sensation, relishing in the feeling of him filling you up to the brim. You want to ask why he's still hard, but the question becomes obsolete as your gaze flickers to the coffee table. There's a blister of pills there, one cavity empty. The pills are blue.

Christoph's thumb rubs along your chin, catches on your lower lip. "Surprised, angel?", and you nod, only a dumb Uh-huh leaving your throat and he snickers at the sound, pushes his thumb into your mouth. Immediately, like you are fucking programmed to, you start sucking on it, pussy clenching around his hardening cock.

"Oh, my pretty baby, fucked your brains out already? And I am not even done yet", he sounds genuinely amused while his other hand brushes over your inner thigh and your skin and the nerves below are so so responsive to his touch, has you squirming in his lap and on his cock, mewling. It makes him groan, a low sound, vibrating deep in his throat.

"I have been waiting so long for this", he husks, "I didn't want for it to end too quickly, hm?"

You can feel him growing back to full size inside of you, within mere minutes. It feels nice, nice being so full and you are so far gone in that thickly sweet daze that you don't even think once, as you roll your hips lazily - once, twice - while his hands roam over your body, your lower belly, your waist, groping your tits.

Christoph touches you with a righteousness, like you belong to him, like he owns you. Like there's no one else but you.

But you know that's not true. You know that upstairs your mother is fast asleep, and that on her nightstand lays an expensive engagement ring with a huge-ass diamond. If you weren't so fucked out of your mind, you'd care and you'd wonder if this is a one-time thing.

As if he can read your thoughts, he says: "Don't you worry your pretty little head, princess. I won't marry her anymore - it's only you darling, always been."

And you sigh, his sweet talk wrapping you in as he pushes his hips upwards once, buries himself deep into your cunt, hits your cervix. You look over your shoulder, and your gazes meet.

One of his hands comes up, rests on your cheek while he starts to fuck you slowly, softly pants with the way his dick slips in and out of you. "Oh, my sweet baby", Christoph coos while you are hissing quietly as his cock brushes over your overstimulated walls, spreads your tight and aching hole, your hand clutching his wrist.

"Daddy, i-it's too much", you mewl and he pouts at you playfully, shakes his head.

"No, it isn't, is it? You can take it", his thumb caresses your cheek, gives you a sweet peck on the lips, "Be a good girl and take it. You can give me one more."

But you physically can't, and neither does your pussy, walls tightening around him, pushing against his hard dick. "Oh, das machen wir aber nicht, hm?", Christoph scolds, his other hand diving back between your spread legs, two fingers gently circling your clit. You hum, body immediately relaxing, and within a few moments the dull pain of him assaulting your used hole vanishes in thin air, sharp gasps escaping your parted lips, your juices running down your cunt.

"There we are. I knew you could take it", his grin is nothing but devilish, peppers your cheek with soft kisses, "I'm so proud of you, sunshine, hm? Taking it so much better than your mom. I knew you'd be the one."

Stretching your already used cunt further, he nestles back in fully, sighs deeply. "Like you were made for me, angel."

"Yes", you sigh sweetly, because you sure feel like it. Gently, careful even, Christoph continues to circle your clit, pinching and rubbing it. Your body slowly, slowly sinks away from you, growing light and all that is left is the feeling of his hands touching you, his cock buried deep inside of you. Every nerve-ending tingles with it, your brain only focussed on him and the way he feels, the way he smells, the way he sounds. The only thing left is him.

Your body goes limp, arms dangling at your sides as Christoph grabs your hips, fingers digging into the soft flesh, and thrusts you onto his cock - once, twice. Deep thrusts, that make your blood sing.

"O-oh, oh Daddy", you gasp, eyes rolling back. Your body practically goes up in hot, burning flames of lust, sparks tingling in your thighs and your chest and you want him to run his hands all over you and feel you up, but you also don't want him to stop manhandling you like he does - all his pent up energy coming lose, practically giving you taste of how long and cruel his wait had been. If you weren't so fucked out of your mind, everything a little hazy already, you would touch yourself, but you just can't - all you can do is spread your legs wider, mouth agape while you pant and moan, relishing in the delicious feeling of his dick fucking you into oblivion.

Your jaw goes slack with it, head lolling back onto his shoulder as he uses you, hammers you down on his dick like a fleshlight. Christoph's grip on your waist and hips is hard enough to leave bruises and tomorrow morning you will be able to see them, an angry red, count the ways he marked you as his.

The thought of you being nothing more to Christoph than his pretty little cocksleeve - young and attractive - that he can take anywhere and fuck whenever he pleases, makes your head swim. You think about him dragging you along to some award-show, showing you off on the carpet and then bending you over the sink in one of the bathrooms because another actor looked at you for a second too long, fucking you until you can't really walk anymore - only to later sit in the award ceremony and feeling his cum leaking out of you. You think of him taking you out for dinner to a fancy restaurant - maybe even with some of his Hollywood-friends - playing with your pussy at the dinner table, whispering sweet nothings in your ear - just because he can, because who would even dare to stop him? You think about visiting him on set, waiting for him in his hotel room - adorned in the jewellery he has gifted you, nothing on but a revealing set of lingerie - waiting for him to take his stress out on you.

It makes you fucking wet, squirt gushing from your cunt, that runs down your folds and that he pumps back into your wanton hole. "Jesus, fuck", you whine, starting to roll your hips with the way he thrusts you down on his dick, feeling him deep deep inside of your pussy, thick head brushing over and hitting your cervix. Hearing him moan with it nearly makes you lose your mind.

You cry out - overstimulated, but so so horny - with his cum squelching out of you with every single thrust, mingling with your juices and dripping, squirting onto the sofa. There are pleas falling from your lips as you yell out with lust and Christoph's quick to clasp one hand around your mouth, your cries and deep moans muffled by the palm of his hand. Your eyelids flutter as you fuck yourself back against his thrusts, his cock hitting your cervix and pain and lust ignite your body, making you want to curl up and just take take take what he gives you.

You feel like you are on fire, your whole body responding to his touch and his thrusts, every single nerve in your body on high alert, as you feel your orgasm coming closer.

Looking down, you can see how he is still thrusting your body down on his dick and you watch, panting. Seeing just how he is using you, like you are nothing but a delicate toy --

It's what tips you over.

A high-pitched scream escapes your mouth as you cum, muffled by his hand pressing against your mouth - before he pulls away, allows you to suck in a few deep breaths through your opened mouth.

Your body practically convulses on his cock, shakes rattling your frame as your third orgasm rolls over you, creaming and squirting against his dick, making a pretty mess of his linen slacks and the sofa beneath. You have left quite a few nasty stains tonight, and your cheeks will turn red in a few days, when your mother spots them and Christoph lies to her face.

Your cunt squeezes his dick and you can feel it twitch heavily inside of you, once, twice, and then he cums too, shoots hot ropes of cum inside of your pussy once more. You feel so fucking full, like you are about to burst, as you roll your hips against his, cunt gushing around his cock.

"Oh fuck", you moan sweetly, sacking back against him. You can hear him pant, one hand on your waist coming lose and resting gently on your stomach, rubbing loose circles over your warm skin.

"What a good girl, huh", he whispers, coarse and exhausted. His words barely reach you through the thick cloud, everything turns white and a soft numbness embraces you, makes you feel featherlight, like you are flying. Christoph's arms wrap you in gently, pulling your naked form close to his, the soft linen crinkling and pressing against your naked back.

You stay like this for a while, with his large and soft hands caressing your skin - rubbing your stomach and gently stroking your thigh - until your breath becomes deeper again, your limbs start to feel heavier, more connected to your body once more. "Oh God", you sigh, feeling his cock still plugging your hole up. It grows flaccid slowly, a few drops of his cum already leaking out of you.

Christoph's lips dance along your shoulder, your neck, kissing and pressing down onto the warm skin. His hands grip your hips tightly. "Ready?", and he sounds so so playful, like he is really enjoying this - taking some depraved satisfaction from it - and you can't help but nod, readying for him to pull out.

He lifts your hips, watches how his dick slips out of your hole easily, hears you hiss with it, and then it trickles down. Thick drops, streaks of white cum flush from your used cunt, and he's quick to swipe his fingers along your folds - spreads your pussy and his cum, collects it with his fingers.

They enter your vision and without thinking, like you're still far gone - despite the fact that you aren't - he shoves them between your obediently opened, waiting lips. You close them around his fingers, while the remains of his cum drip out of you still, and start to clean them up, sucking on them, tongue swirling around his digits.

"That's a good girl", his praise has your blood singing, and you whine in protest as Christoph pulls his fingers from your mouth, "So, tell me - where do you go the next time you want a good fuck?"

"To you, Daddy", you say softly, earning you a warm chuckle and a pat on the thigh.

***

Your legs are still wobbly as you make your way downstairs in the morning and out onto the terrace. Your mother and Christoph are sitting in the sun, a light breeze rolling around the terrace, making the seam of the table cloth sway gently.

Your mother is silently eating her breakfast while Christoph rustles with his French newspaper. He appears to be interested in the Feuilleton but you notice how his gaze flickers to you as soon as you're approaching the table, remains glued to your figure, small lines forming around his eyes.

"Oh, honey!", your mother gets up, happy that you are awake, and gives you a featherlight kiss on the cheek, "Oh god, you look horrible, darling! Did you sleep unwell?"

Christoph snorts, but your mother ignores it - holds you at arm length, iron grip around your arms as she assesses your timid frame.

"Yeah, 's just the heat", you mutter, freeing yourself from her death grip and sit down, flinching a little. You're so fucking sore, legs still heavy and hole aching, pussy begging for another touch through the slight pain. Christoph deliberately puts down the newspaper, a smug smile toying at the corners of his lips. It grows rather surprised than complacent as he takes you in fully.

You are wearing one of the dresses he had bought you. You also draped a silk scarf around your shoulders, hiding the viciously glowing bitemark he gave you. His face is expressionless as he looks at you, his cold stare boring into you. For a moment you think, he might rat you out - tell your mother that you snuck out last night.

But he doesn't. Instead, he wordlessly pours you a glass of freshly pressed orange juice, hands it over to you. Your fingers brush over his, goosebumps spreading over your skin at the thought that just a couple of hours, they had been in you, fucking you to hell and back.

You can still feel them inside of you, growing wet at the thought, squirming a little in your chair. If it weren't for your mom sitting right next to you, you'd get up and beg him to fuck you. Your pussy aches at the imagery that your brain conjures up; tits bouncing, one leg hooked over his shoulder, the expensive dress pooling around your waist, glasses on the table clinking with each thrust.

Your mother - oblivious to what is happening in front of her - brabbles on about her plans for the day, while Christoph's gaze is chained to yours.

It feels like his eyes are undressing you, a shadow dances over his greyish eyes, turning them into a darkened sky. Your hand grips the glass tightly, thighs rubbing together. You really wish you could just --

"Careful", he says quietly, pointing at your hand clutching your glass so hard your knuckles start to turn white, and you let go of it, like you just burned yourself. The glass nearly topples over on the white table cloth, the juice trickles down the insides of it lazily, silent testimony to an accident prevented. He's right - it might've burst.

Thank you for taking care of me, Daddy. You want to get up and thank him properly, unzip his pants and --

"Don't you think, that'd be nice, honey?", your mother chimes, still busy with her avocado, and pulls you out of your daydream - you on your knees with Christoph rubbing his cock and balls across your face and making you look like a cheap whore, before he slips it between your plush, waiting lips with their red lipstick smudged - you barely manage not to moan aloud, quickly turning your head her way.

"Huh?", you blink dumbly.

"Honey", she scoffs, "I said - Do you wanna go to the beach today?"

You rather wouldn't. Especially not with your mother around, gushing about the man who fucked you senseless last night. You would rather spend the day with him alone.

Thus, your gaze flickers back to Christoph quicker than you can think about it, quicker than you can stop yourself from doing it. He gives you the slightest nod, that goes completely unnoticed by your mother and rearranges his reading glasses.

Thank you for thinking for me, Daddy.

"Sure, why not?", you can hear yourself say. Christoph rustles with his newspaper and somewhere, in the trees, a bird chimes.

#christoph waltz #christoph waltz x reader #christoph waltz smut #my writing #smut #hans landa x reader #august rosenbluth x reader

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