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#HE LOVED ME THE WHOLE TIME AND ITS TOO LATE
haydensky01 · 2 days
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[Obey me]: MC falling in love with Diavolo
Summary: The most powerful human, overthinker as every woman is, falling in love with the most powerful demon. No spoilers.
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I remember I do, the first time I appeared here falling from the sky my eyes locked onto his with unwavering intensity. He exuded overwhelming elegance, his presence so immaculate, so radiant, so majestic. While I had yet to be informed of his royal status, it was a truth I instinctively grasped without needing confirmation.
"Skin of sand, eyes of honey, hair of fire" is all that filled my thoughts as his eyes captivated my sight whole.
"Eyes of honey" It's cold. "Eyes of honey" I'm adrift. "Eyes of honey" What strange realm is this?
The room unfamiliar, the faces foreign, the attire surreal. "Eyes of honey... eyes of honey".
Limbs frozen, fists clenched "Eyes of honey... eyes of honey" where am I?
Diavolo: "Welcome to the Devildom MC. .. Oh, pardon me. Feeling a bit shocked are we?"
"Oh... it speaks..."
Diavolo: "My name is Diavolo. I am the ruler of all demons, and all here know of me."
"Eyes of honey... the tolling of bells."
Diavolo: "And someday soon I will be crowned king of the Devildom."
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I read the other day in the RAD Newspaper that the hue of the next king's eyes, Diavolo's, is a unique emblem of his lineage, exceedingly rare even among their kin and the colours found in nature. Liars. Ever since I came here 3 years ago, It is all I see everywhere, all the time, on everything. I could swear my pupils have been coated with eyes of honey, for whenever I close my eyes, his gaze manifests without fail.
I am not naïve; I know what this is. He is undeniably handsome, a prince on the brink of becoming king. He possesses the charm, the intelligence, the chivalry, the wealth, the smile... and the eyes of a man with whom to fall in love. And I am a human raised on fairy tails. The equation might be complex but its result is unmistakable.
However, I am me. And me doesn't like embarrassment, rejection or a three realms worth of attention and gossip. It is the natural course of events to feel deep affection for Eyes of honey. But it is also the right course of events to relegate it to the realm of pre-sleeping fantasies, even if my mind refuses to adhere to this reasonable schedule.
I mean, I do feel the desire to seduce when I am around Lucifer or Mammon or Simeon or Solomon and others. Hell, I even flirted and went on dates. For the same reasons perhaps. Beauty, intelligence, talents, tact... or is it? I don't deny I was unwillingly comparing them to Diavolo all the time, I admit I imagined every flirt and every courtesy as if between me and Diavolo. But it still counts... doesn't it?
I blame this on Diavolo to be frank. Had he not summon me here to witness extraordinary power and charm, I wouldn't have invited him into my fantasies. Had he not call upon me on every events to be its centre. But then again, I AM the exchange student after all. Or perhaps hadn't he showered me with gifts, shown such care, and asked so kindly... He IS the ruler and I AM under his guardianship, aren't I? Had he not protected me so dearly? Again, he IS the most powerful. I don't know, I have no base but I blame him I do. I blame him for it all. And above all, his gravest sin remains... He looked at me with his eyes of honey.
The other night, at the ball, when we danced I could swear it was only the two of us dancing.
In the council room, when his hand brushed against mine, I could feel the heat from his flushed cheeks radiating across the air.
His late-night text and calls asking silly things amongst which is thrown the smallest sentences about how he wishes for me to be with him or for him to be with me. A future king cannot possibly be asking a human about muffins at 3am the eve of a world changing event, right?
The angry rumbling in his chest every time the demons and angels get too cosy with me?
Every time we found ourselves alone his voice carried the weight of a suffocated man in desperation of someone to set his lungs free. The urgency in his voice and the half calls for affection were real. I want them to be real.
Silly silly human. It's rather amusing, isn't it? For every time I tried to initiate even the most innocent flirtations or slightly intimate exchanges, he would deflect or evade. It's almost comical. And if not him, Barbatos or Lucifer would intervene... those sly serpents. Perhaps Barbatos sensed the impending embarrassment through his powers and chose to spare me the humiliation? AAAAHHHHH... This is so mortifying.
Whyyyyy? Why are you doing this to me Diavolo? Does it amuse you to toy with me this way? Spare me the pain and caste me away. For I cannot oblige myself to restrain from you. Be the bigger person, the adult in the room, the king in the kingdom and set me free.
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Tears streamed down her face as she pondered all of this.
Lying on her bed in the dark at the house of lamentation, she was holding her phone above her face.
On the screen, a text conversation was visible, with the name of the correspondent adorned with a yellow heart: "Eyes of honey💛"
The text read:
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Eyes of honey💛: "Your fireworks display tonight was truly spectacular. I had no idea your magical prowess had grown so strong."
MC: "Haha... Thank you. The sky was indeed breathtaking."
Eyes of honey💛: "I am sure it was, but the true beauty was seeing it reflected in your eyes."
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In the chat box, she had typed "I love you" for the first time, acknowledging it as love rather than mere affection. It was the first time she had ever written those words, the first time, despite the consequences of it all, she had seriously considered putting an end to both their agony.
To be sent? To be deleted? Who knows?
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levmada · 2 days
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sequel to this post
[@dressycobra7 :3]
➥ c/w: gn!reader, some angst, oral (m!receiving), praise, subby Levi canonverse, established relationship, handjob, finger sucking?, turned into smut somehow
➥ wc: 1.8k
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The boy appeared to you and Levi later to apologize profusely like that was the reason he'd been born. You didn't have the heart to turn him away, and filed inside the small recovery room behind him, with its half-exposed brick walls. The curtains were shut, but enough light penetrated. Levi looked too tired to stop him, and it took an arduous amount of time to get through, but his answer was short, to the effect of, If you're not court-marshaled, don't do it again. A slightly upper angle and I would've bled out. Then where would we be?
You're still thinking about that as you stock the closet with some of his clothes. Mandatory bedrest for at least a week, and after that, take it slow. Levi practically shriveled up when someone said 'wheelchair', and he preferred if hospital germs didn't get into his quarters.
You'll have his squad up there every day doing routine cleaning, "trouble" which Levi didn't need to exert his mind over. He's busy being stubborn.
You turn around when you hear porcelain clink. He's leaned over the dresser next to the bed, trying to take the tea.
"Levi," you scold.
"We don't need Hange to tell me my arms are in fine working condition," he grumbles, leaning back as you come over.
He's right, though. No one would even notice any arm wound because the bandages and plaster wrapping around his lower leg are bordering-on gaudy. It's propped up on a fat pillow, also white, the same as his soft-looking boxers and collared shirt (of which many buttons hang loose). In the glowing late afternoon, he looks ethereal, not quite of-this-world. A dove which is angry and stubborn and trapped.
"Still," you say quietly.
"I'm fine... I don't need anything."
Mikasa and Sasha had picked flowers, which you set in a watered glass jar atop the dresser. White again.
You watch him sip, and go over when he's done, laid propped up against pillows. A wooden bench at the side; you sat for hours while he slept through the day (the whole incident happened this morning). You sit on it now.
"I know... But why not want?" you repeat, quietly looking down at your hands.
"Who are we to want anything?"
You sharply look. "Why are you talking like this?"
He just watches you, shrewdly, but with a weakness not indicative of him. It might be exhaustion talking...
"We could always die. Titans could get in—"
"I'd kill them."
"Not like this..."
You said the wrong thing—the wrongest thing. His lips press into a thin line, barely-concealed contempt and clean daggers for eyes. The way he looks, like he believes if he tensed up enough, then he'd turn invisible and leave this argument in the dust.
You gesture slightly. "Because I would protect you. Even if I wasn't one of your comrades, or a soldier."
His lip twists in a unique disgust, which is the most you can see, his head turned towards the wall. Over his stomach, his hand tightens into a fist. "If you weren't, you'd die. Then I'd be dead anyway."
You swallow. You want to yell, and cry.
"I don't want that, either way. You didn't deserve to... see me like that. That seems to be why I'm talking like this."
The anger has left him. Delicately, you stand and seat yourself on the edge of the bed by his waist. "I've seen you be lots of things. 'Weak' is okay too. And I'm okay with seeing you like that as many time as I must, which is once so far."
He scoffs softly through his nose.
You lean forward more, and walk your fingers through his hair. Blacker than night, soft. There's a little piece you tuck behind his ear. His eyes flutter, letting out a deep breath. You can almost see the goosebumps.
"I know we'll die, and I know we belong to something much bigger, but can't I love you anyway?"
His breathing hitches a little, and his eyes open. It's a wonder what he's thinking, if he's even thinking about it, his adam's apple bobbing.
"Do whatever you want. I'm fine, if it's possible I can be with you."
It's your heart's turn to flutter, and just as soon, lean over awkwardly, your head resting on his chest and your arms around him (at least as much as they can be). You hear his heartbeat. The slowing, smooth rhythm of his choppy breathing carrying your upper half. His arm slips around your waist, content to rest his lips in your hair. As the time passes, he's more and more comfortable to hold you to tame the fear his anger betrayed. By that time, your arm's fallen asleep; you rub his side.
As tempting as it is to go down to the mess crowded for dinner, and contend with questions, you stay, just appreciating existing next to him.
"Your back," he mutters. You've been bent over a while.
"Mm." He's officially being ignored.
His hand slips over yours on his side, stopping you. His face doesn't give anything away, maybe purposefully so, and so you smile.
Leaning up, a fond kiss to his cheek. "You're cute when you make that face. Is your leg feeling okay?"
He clicks his tongue mildly with his head turned out, just showing you his cheek and one blue-grey eye. "'m fine," he says quietly.
Curious eyes search. Maybe he's downplaying something, but not lying. With nothing you'd rather do, you kiss down his jaw now, to the tender, pale column of his neck. His chest lifts suddenly against yours.
His question sounds like an afterthought. "What're you doing?"
"'m loving you," you lift your lips to say. (A little embarrassing to say out loud.)
"Yeah." His lips are still in your hair, but are stirring.
You remember he has your hand when he starts bringing them down. All across your upper half, you feel him breathing, and it's a little deeper.
You switch sides, putting you at an awkward angle to kiss him. He starts to move over towards the wall, but you stop him with a firm hum fast enough, and sit up. No walking, Moblit had told him firmly. What you kind of wish he'd said now is no moving his legs. For now you ignore it pushing snugly against the front of his boxers, but there's a wisp of a giggle in your chest.
You shift the pillow carefully, and he follows, until there's enough room for you there beside him. The mattress is only half-decent, but it's warm from his body.
He looks annoyed that you're smirking, if only he could come off the slightest bit intimidating blushing so hard like this. Pink warmth creeps down his neck and disappears beneath his open, rumpled collar.
"Tch." He just captures the nape of your neck and pulls your lips against his—a little slowly that comes with tiredness, but that much more passionately.
While you play with his lips, giving him away to you, your palm roams between his thighs. You pause there. Right as he shivers with his lip trapped between your teeth, you pull away and leer over him. "Don't move, baby. Move and I'll stop."
His eyes narrow in a bratty display.
"I mean it." You smile. "Even a touch" You stroke through his clothes slow and firm, immediately bringing a dreaming-like quality to his eyes. He almost can't look at you, especially as he huffs and it throbs under you.
"Baby?" You lick your thumb.
"I won't move." He huffs again, harsher this time. "Ugh, I won't fucking move, but you can't just—"
Your free hand, your thumb, falls against his jaw and stops his soft lips from flapping, so now a whole new quality of lust emerges in his expression. You're freeing his cock from his shorts as he instantly takes you in, so soft and sweet and giving. The heat that immediately consumes your thumb is melting, almost too intense to handle.
"Good boy, letting me."
His eyes flutter as you find where wetness has drooled from the tip of his stiff cock, spreading it around in your palm. It's easy to hold him, how he was made for you, and even easier to touch him to attract his hips, and the beginning of whispered whines he always always tries to suppress.
He hasn't forgotten, though. At the moment you send him a warning look, he relaxes, and his eyes are closed. You didn't notice him take hold of your wrist, holding just to hold, and gripping the front of his shirt with the other hand, since you're not close enough.
"Good boy," you murmur again. A moan vibrates round your thumb, his cock straining in your fist. "That's my good boy..."
It seems all the squirming he doesn't do has to go towards suckling and nipping your thumb instead. You watch his brows furrowed in deep focus as you build up your firm strokes. It's getting just as wet. He can't last.
You smile to yourself as your pumps rise to his tip, firm but quick flicks of your wrist. His back bows against the bed, the moan in his throat breaking apart into a whine. That aside, he stays perfectly still, so you let it slide.
"Does it feel that good when I touch you? Going to come, sweetheart?"
"Mm," his voice comes firm and tightly-wound. His eyes open into slight slits, see you watching shamelessly, and shut again. "Mm!"
Just as he throbs and tenses up. You bend over gripping down low, abruptly tearing your hand away from his mouth to sink his cock inside yours; pinning his hips, rubbing his heavy balls in your grasp.
"F-Fuck, fuckfuck!" He takes sudden, almost too-tight hold of your hair, gasping, and tearing the sheet, and shuddering. He moans all through it, broken whispers of your name, almost hummed at the top of his throat at the quietest, and always eagerly throbbing in the hot suction of your mouth. You take everything in deep swallows.
When finally, his hips are threatening to squirm to shy away and his cock softening, you pull off. You wipe your mouth with the back of your hand as he melts into the sheets. He has half of his bright red face hiding under his arm, catching his breath.
"Fuck, I don't know how you expected me to stay still. Come here." He lowers his arm.
"For the mess." You smile sweetly.
"Come here."
"You're not doing anything." But you do, and let him give you a kiss. He looks extremely unhappy about that, but for once, it looks like he'll listen when you say.
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Levi masterlist | main masterlist
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bakudekublogblog · 4 months
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izuku didn’t just have to see katsuki’s dead body, he also had to see the fucking all might card right next to him. physical proof that katsuki always had a tender spot in his heart for izuku and their childhood together. evidence that katsuki fucking LOVED HIM THIS WHOLE TIME and now it’s TOO LATE. it’s actually so devastatingly romantic and fucking tragic. izuku really only finds out katsuki loved him all along when he thinks he’s lost him forever.
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skitskatdacat63 · 8 days
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2024 Chinese Grand Prix - Fernando Alonso
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claitea · 2 years
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porygonhd by @startistdoodles, a few doodles complete with gen 5 styled sprites!
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sskk-manifesto · 25 days
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(*・ω・*)b♪
#I'm a bit late but :)#Mmmhh lots of thoughts about this episode. Nothing really relevant though lol#I like it... Mostly. Well‚ I like Atsushi‚ and I like Atsushi screentime.#I always forget that there's actually a one week timeskip within the Guild arc#I think these chapters were generally better executed in the manga.#But even then it's just...#Why do the make the Guild / Fitzgerald so. dumb. Why do they make them act so wildly irrationally and at the protagonists' advantage#It really gives villain acting entirely mindlessly to make the plot advance and the heroes win. It's really sensless.#I mean especially when Atsushi yielded. Why didn't Fitzgerald take his offer. For real!!#For real. He had NOTHING to gain from proceeding with his plan. He already obtained for Atsushi and the ada to collaborate.#Now they are NEVER going to help him‚ and that's agreat loss for him.#And idk. i hear that little Tumblr post in my voice saying “why would you complain about characters acting irrationally!#Do people irl never act irrationally?”#And yeah I get Fitzgerald was frustrated for losing Mitchell and his fight with Hawthorne. Okay I understand.#But that's definitely too much. That's him acting downright stupid at the heroes' advantage and it's just pretty underwhelming to read?#That said. It's just general notes I'm not particularly annoyed because like. That's just b/s/d to you. Dumbing down the villains a second–#so the author can escape the trap they put themselves into. Very Marvel-esque move lol.#On that exact same note WHY WOULD LUCY HAVE THE DOLL.#The doll is the whole premise for your plan working why would you not protect it with everything 😭😭😭#I'm not getting in the Lucy / Atsushi scene itself. I love Lucy but I swear every time that scene gets played a femminist dies#(it's me. I'm the femminist dying every time.)#Mmmhh a couple more things. I dislike the ost choice in the scene where Steinbeck is torturing Q it feels so out of place#And I really don't get what's the deal with the Hawthorne / Fitzgerald convo it's so confusing to me. Like it It looks like Hawtorne is–#blaming Fitzgerald for Mitchell's condition (both in health and for her family status) but...#Objectively neither of those things are Fitzgerald's fault? Idk maybe I just have very little media comprehension for this arc because–#a lot of things just seem to happen with no sense. But it's okay#Im complaining a lot lol but its mostly irrelevant things (or like with the dumbification of villains things I've learnt to live with lmao)#But the episode was generally nice. The animation this season is consistently very pretty.#random rambles
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skrunksthatwunk · 4 months
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just found out rascal (babycat)'s been with his owner this whole time instead of my roommate which is. something. :|
#if you dont know whats happening basically mr and my roommate (dorms) have been raising an abused kitten belonging to our floormates#we had him for a month and a half i think and then a month of break has gone by with my roomie staying on campus and me going back home#to my prey-driven dogs and snake and cat-allergic mother among other things. hence the inability to really take him in easily.#i mean shit. if she decided to actually take care of him instead of making everyone around her into free childcare then that's a good thing#*petcare#and admittedly both me and my roommate should've been more in contact about him whether this was going on or not#we both have really bad object permanence + flow of time issues though so it kinda... didnt happen#i thought about him a lot though. i planned on coming back early to spend a few days just chilling with him before the semester started#but other stuff got in the way and i had the 'its too late so dont ask at all' guilt#idk. it seems like hes alive but i don't know much more than that rn. it makes me nervous yk#but i never thought she'd just. still have him. i never expect what she does with him tbh#i almost feel better about getting stuck and not figuring out visiting or shared custody (in my house that is Not Ideal For Him) knowing it#wasn't even really attainable but. shit.#i want her to treat him like he deserves and if she's doing that i have no right to complain. he's not my cat. he's not.#but it means she'll probably just leave with him someday. no thanks or payment or future contact. idk i just. thought this would end sooner#in taking him to a shelter or a new home or us taking him in or her putting her foot down. but instead it's like im drowning in gelatin#what am i even doing. i love him. so much. and i want a cat so so bad. i want *him* so bad.#but i didn't rescue him and i didnt even try and. god idk. i love him and i still couldn't get my ass up to visit in a whole month#i want to say it's because i was stuck and it's not untrue. but i just. idk. i still feel like i shoulda pushed through or whatever anyway.#it makes me feel like im just as bad as his owner when i know im not. im not.#he's probably a lot bigger now. assuming she's actually feeding him. god. i really thought he'd be with my roommate#for reasons im not even gonna bother getting into. and i was reassured that my roomie would tell me if something was up with him. and she#didnt. and im not mad at her it's not her fault i didn't reach out when i wanted to know. but i feel just. ough. stupid ass situation i got#myself into. stupid sad ass consequences of being nosy and big hearted and wanting to help in stupid ways#at least her dogs didnt eat him. i was worried about that. i don't think i could take it if she got him killed and i didn't push harder to#help him. but i can't just fucking. kidnap him. he's not mine and we're neighbors and i can't even keep him at my home. not really.#god i miss him so much. i hope i didn't hurt him by leaving. fucking hell.#but he needs somebody and his owner is almost certainly not it. and maybe im not either but i want to try for him. man.
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goldiipond · 2 years
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literally the easiest way to get me attached to your series is to have some sort of tragedy involving siblings. it hurts me more than anything else
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myriadsystem · 3 days
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.
#must not text him texting him is the growth killer#must not text him texting him would be bad because it will make us feel bad and its my fucking bday this weekend#im not letting me do that to us#but fucking god i miss him rn and a lot lately 😭😮‍💨 was there a traumaversary i didnt know about??#the only him related traumaversary already happened in feb and we handled it pretty fairly well (mostly due to the ffected being dormant)#but still like. what did i do last year for my bday? what did we do the year before he was probably there then but i dont remember feeling#this way around last bday? which he prroobbabblyy wasnt there for? time is not easy for me#idk its driving me crazypants lately like i miss him so much i thought he was my everything forever he told me he would be#but hes not and he never was and hes done a lot to hurt me but none of it was on purpose he was never mean or violent#and looking at old pictures we look so fucking good together and old chats the way he talked to me was so sweet and but that doesnt change#the fact that at this point in time and probably never again is he actually here#fuck this noise man ive got a cute outfit ready im going to the local museum with my grandma for my bday day#and ive got weed and tunes planned for the evening there are so many things to look forward to coming soon why#why do i seem to be stuck in the past lately. like not in active ptsd mode im not triggered as the kids love to say but i just cant stop#thinking abt him and the whole relationship and wishing he was here. wishing he never left? or more like wishing hed come back#hoping that hes changed enough and that i have too to make it work. i keep having awful visions of him coming to my door after a life attemp#and im so mad at him but i cant leave him out here so of course i invite him in to care for him and make sure hes ok#and its awful because it feels like a whisper away from being reality. its too close to what could be real#and its awful not because its a dream but because the closeness to what could be reality hurts so much when logic kicks in#and i know its not reality no matter how dang close it seems#personal#i think im splitty lately. im losing more time than usual and i cant get this boy outta my head.#i hope hes a lingering thought and not a permanent resident oh that would fuck us up so so bad#idk. idk dude! everythings fucked up atm im doing a lot of personal growth but im also behind on so many other things#i just want him out of my brain. its my fucking goddamn birthday and im making this one a good one for fucking once#i can handle the other shit later but this one do be fucking me up in a major way lately the last few days. weeks? who knows
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lovebugism · 6 months
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ok reader x eddie having a casual conversation about sex, talking about what they're both into, leading to some smut??? just hearing what eddie's into sounds so hottttt (i imagine its filthy,, sorry)
ty for requesting! hope you like it!! — a failed date with eddie leads to a night in and several confessions (established relationship, mostly fluff, talks of sex but no actual smut 18+, 1.6k)
fictober (㇏(•̀ᵥᵥ•́)ノ)
Eddie Munson is a hopeless romantic.
Not because he loves like it’s breathing (though some would argue otherwise), but because his attempts to be affectionate with you are complete and utter failures.
He had a whole romantic day planned. A late lunch, a quick walk, and then sunset at the park. Honestly, it probably would’ve been a pretty metal date if it was any day other than this one — the biggest flood of the whole goddamn year.
You got to the diner just fine but had to rush back to the trailer in the rain since he didn’t have his van. Thankfully, it waited to outright pour until he got you home. Now, his leather jacket — which you’d used as a makeshift umbrella — hangs beside the opened window to dry.
The orange autumn breeze rolls over your bare bodies like silk (because, of course, an innocent shower after getting drenched in the rain couldn’t not end in getting dirty again).
“Was all this just a ploy to get me into bed?” you tease, tracing the freckles on his back with the tip of your finger. “’Cause you coulda just asked, you know? I would’ve said yes.”
Lying flat on his stomach, Eddie laughs into his folded-up arms. His deep brown hair brushes his pale shoulders when he turns to look at you. His smile is swollen and rosy and crooked.
“You got me, princess. Making my girlfriend walk in disgusting weather was all a part of my evil plan.”
“I wouldn’t say it was evil.”
“No?”
“Sinful, maybe. Sexy, even,” you joke with a lopsided grin. “But no, not evil.”
“Is that so?” he lilts as he rises on his elbow to prop his cheek on his fist.
You shake your head and roll onto your back. Your eyes flit to the spotted ceiling. A smirk blossoms on your lips. “I feel like evil would imply that it was hurtful in some way. And that thing you did in the shower felt way too good to be evil.”
“What thing?” the boy wonders with pinched-together brows.
You shoot him a look. “You know…” you hum vaguely, expectantly.
“No. I don’t, actually,” Eddie laughs, mostly at himself. “I’m kinda dumb, in case you forgot.”
“You’re not dumb, Eds.”
“Stop being sweet. You’re deflecting.”
You concede with a small huff. “That… That thing. With your mouth. When you pressed me against the wall and— please, don’t make me describe it, Eddie,” you ramble, then cut yourself off to whine.
He meets your grimace with a boyish grin. “I don’t know. I kinda like hearing you talk about it.”
“I’ll die,” you deadpan.
“You’re so dramatic.”
His words are harsh, but his pink smile is kind. He kisses you with it after — a smacking peck to the corner of your mouth that migrates rather quickly. He sprinkles his lips along your jaw and chin and neck. 
That’s where he lingers. 
Eddie finds your pulse point and goes a half-inch higher, just like he did while he was fucking you against the shower wall. You nearly came the first time he kissed you there. 
He sucks at the delicate skin until he leaves another faint mark. The feeling of his tongue and teeth on your newfound sweet spot makes your toes curl. It has you moaning out loud before you mean to.
His lips audibly smack when he pulls away.
“That thing?” he wonders, smiling down at you like he already knows the answer.
Your thighs clench together. Your bones are made of mush. “That thing,” you repeat in the affirmative.
“Well, if we’re sharing secrets…” Eddie singsongs, then leans in all close like he’s about to spill the latest gossip. His fingers spread out along your bare waist, eyes sparkling with mischief. “I really liked it when you got all mean.”
You hadn’t thought much of it, then — when Eddie edged you on the counter with his fingers and laughed when you writhed. 
You didn’t even let him make it up to you after, just sucked him off and told him he wasn’t allowed to touch you. “Don’t cum ’til I tell you to, understand?” you’d said. “Or I’m gonna get myself off, and you’re gonna watch.”
He was a good boy for you, though, and you let him fuck you in the shower.
Your nose scrunches in muted embarrassment. “I wasn’t being that mean, was I?”
“No. I mean, you could certainly get meaner…” Eddie assures with a shake of his head, then grins as his fingers crawl up your ribcage. You fight back a shiver. “Which I think could be preferable from time to time.”
“So, you want me to be more… dominant?”
He shrugs a pale, freckled shoulder. “Yeah. Sometimes. I like watching you get all dumb for me, don’t get me wrong, but every time you get a little mean, I almost cum in my pants.”
The blatant confession makes you go slightly stupid. You just nod at him, lazy and unblinking. “Yeah. I can do that. You know, if that’s what you want.”
“I do want,” Eddie hums, matching your sloppy head shake. His nicotine-coated breath fans across your cheek. “Very, very much.”
“But not all the time, though, right?”
“No. Not all the time. Just… sometimes— when the moment’s right or whatever.”
“Sure…”
Eddie’s grin broadens when you trail off. A faraway look glazes over your eye. His brows raise expectantly. “What’s that look for?”
You blink rapidly as you descend from the clouds. Shaking your head, you dismiss him. “Nothing. Nothing— I just… I did kinda like not letting you come right away.”
“Yeah. Me too,” Eddie concurs, suddenly breathless.
Your gaze flits to his, mousy and twinkling. Your hands fidget above the covers. “And I kinda wanna try letting you cum and maybe… not stopping…”
Eddie’s eyes go wide. His mouth opens to respond, but he forgets how to speak. He barely remembers to breathe.
“Is that… Is that weird?” you ask, forcing a laugh at his unusual silence.
“No!” he blurts, sounding much louder in the honeyed quiet of his bedroom. “No, that’s… That’s really hot, actually. Like, really hot.”
He zones out just like you had. The imagery of it all makes his stomach whirl. He’s done it to you a number of times — brought you to the edge and kept on pushing you over until you pushed him away. But he’d never thought about ever doing it to himself till now. 
Actually, there’s quite a lot of things he’s done to you that he might enjoy himself if he thinks about it.
The thought alone opens a world of possibility in his wild, wild head.
“Can I tell you about something I was thinking about the other day?” he wonders suddenly.
Though slightly startled by the blurted question, you nod. “Of course.”
His gaze flits away from yours. His hand fidgets at your waist, fingers softly scratching at your burning skin. “You know my handcuffs? The ones I clip on my jeans sometimes?”
Again, you nod.
“Well, I— I have the keys, you know? So it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world if we— you know— if we used them…”
“On me?” you press, brows pinched in distant concern.
Eddie shakes his head immediately. “No. I know you don’t like that.”
“So… on you?”
“Yeah. Maybe. If you want,” the boy mumbles, suddenly shy in a way you’ve only seen a handful of times — including earlier, when he was begging to cum in your mouth. “I just think it could be cool, you know? Like, you could tie me up and just… use me. If you want,” he repeats.
“Use you?” you repeat with a soft laugh.
He shrugs. “Yeah. I mean, I don’t— I don’t really care about getting off as much as I care about you getting off, you know? I just… wanna take care of you. Want you to take what you want.”
You open your mouth to respond only to find that all words have lost meaning. Your brain is a jumbled mess of alphabet soup. So you just nod, dumb at the very thought.
Eddie’s hand rises from the covers. His palm settles warm at your jaw. His fingers smell faintly of sex as his calloused thumb smooths across your chapped lips. “You could, like, rub yourself on my cock. Get yourself off on top of me,” he murmurs lowly to you, a quiet and crooked grin pulling at his mouth. “Wouldn’t that be metal?”
“Yeah…” you answer with a sigh, getting lost in the daydream right along with him. “Wouldn’t put you inside me at first, either. Not until you’re begging for it.”
His smile widens. “Exactly.”
“Then I’ll ride you until you make me cum.”
Eddie nods, egging you on. He tucks his face into your neck, if only to conceal how ardently he’s blushing. He hides his pink cheeks between your jaw and shoulder and kisses you where he knows it’ll drive you crazy. 
“Mhmm?” he urges, muffled.
You sigh a faint moan. Your fingers curl in his wild hair. You press your lips to his temple and continue. “And I’ll let you come, too. Eventually… But I won’t stop.”
“Fuck,” he groans into your pulse.
“Not until you’ve filled me up three times—”
“Oh, fuck…”
You tug at his hair with a soft, stern touch you think you could learn to master for him. His lips click faintly when he parts from you. He blinks down at you with glassy chocolate eyes.
“Something like that?” you wonder, feigning innocence with a sweet-sounding lilt.
Eddie nods, sloppy and stupid. He stammers. “Yeah… Yeah. Some—Something like that.”
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kookslastbutton · 7 months
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Guilty Pleasures ༓ jjk, kth (m) | ch. i
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✑ Summary: Three years of being Seoul's power couple earns you nothing but a big fat divorce settlement and your face plaster on every gossip column around town. You're angry, hurt, and desperately want to move on, but worst of all? You're still in love with the man who started the whole mess, even though the most he can ever see you as is a friend. The renowned actor you've hired to be your company's new endorser seems to have a soft spot for you though. He's easy on the eyes, you'll admit, but who actually wants a divorcee like yourself? It's unrealistic really.
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pairing: ex-husband ceo!jungkook x ceo!reader, slight actor!taehyung x ceo!reader
genre/AU: angst, smut, loverstoexesto ?, unrequited love
word count: 3,328
Warnings: oc and jk are both 30, mention of gossip columns and unequal treatment of how oc is portrayed post-divorce, hint of differences between men and women in the business world, oc struggling to be professional, both care about each other and are not toxic but oc fell in love, oc has the need to groom him a little out of habit, talks about Bam, feat, Namjoon and Taehyung, and sexual content
sexual warnings: dom!jungkook, sub!reader, desk s*x, d*rty talk, oc is on bc, handjob, swearing, making out, neck kisses, clothed s*x, impulsive s*x, light praising, growling, some minor petnames (baby, Kook), mention of threesome, recalling of past sexual events
playing: Unkiss Me
a/n: uh…this one has been in my drafts and idk its kinda angsty but I decided I will share it. Enjoy! 🥰
series masterlist | next >>
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From the moment he stepped into your office, Jungkook could tell every ounce of color was drained from your face. All except for your puffy red eyes that is, which he knows you've been rubbing fervently to keep your tears from rolling down your cheeks.
He doesn't blame you for it though–you're his ex-wife.
Recent ex-wife that is.
For three years the two of you masqueraded as the perfect power couple; appearing completely in love to the public eye in hopes of forming an unshakable business partnership (transaction more like). You attended charity balls together, collaborated on several work projects, and attended countless corporate functions to establish both your presence in your respective industries.
That's right, you and Jungkook were in an arranged marriage and it would have flourished into a classic love story if it wasn't for one obvious detail–you're the only one that fell in love.
Despite all the times he's called you "stunning" when you dolled up for formal events or that you "feel so good" during late-night sex, Jungkook never truly loved you. He cared about you, did his best not to intentionally hurt you, and even tried loving you back; thinking he could fall for you with time.
But the most he could ever see you as is a friend, a beautiful friend, though a friend nonetheless. He knows how much it pains you, especially after you've held out hope that he'll want you the same way someday. This one embarrasses you the most which he wishes it wouldn't.
Well, Jungkook doesn't want to trap either of you in a loveless marriage any longer. So even if it means being the center of gossip columns for a while, he's giving you a divorce so you can find the right person to share your love with.
After all, you deserve it; you both do.
Today's day one of looking at one another as exes and it's bittersweet, to say the least. The only factor that would make this worse is if children were in the equation, but there aren't any.
"Thanks for letting me swing by __," he speaks first, doing his best to conjure up a genuine smile. The black floral button-up he's wearing suits him well and his smooth chest peaking out near the collar is far too tempting, yet you know better than to let your eyes linger.
"Of course," you answer and grab a small box from behind your desk. "These are 100% yours so I wouldn't keep them from you." Jungkook takes the box of belongings from your hands with slight hesitation. You're keeping a brave front for the sake of civility and professionalism.
He doesn't blame you for that either.
As a CEO of a large multinational corporation himself, Jungkook's no stranger to the age-old philosophy that that office is no place to let your personal woes get out of hand; you have a team to lead and a reputation to uphold. The latter is proving to be harder for you than him, however, being that the media is portraying you as some kind of she-devil, spinster, or worse of all—a cheater.
Jungkook plans to personally make sure those articles get removed from the public eye before the end of the week. (Not that he'll tell you though.)
"I still could have dropped by the house to pick these up if it'd been easier. I feel bad for interrupting your work day over a couple of old books, records, and dog toys." He watches you nod silently as he vocalizes the inconvenience of it all; he really doesn't have to but he does it anyway.
"No, it's alright. You haven't been to the house since you moved out, so I thought it'd be better if we met here instead." You pause to check the time. "If there's anything you think of that you might've forgotten later, just let me know. In the meantime, I have a meeting in twenty so..."
"He misses you."
"I'm sorry?"
"Bam, I mean." Jungkook throws the box under an arm and pulls out his phone. He scrolls through his camera gallery until he gets to one particular photo of a red and tan Doberman. "He hates the new place and all he does is sulk by the door."
Your heart's already struggling to settle down from the painful reality that the man you love is leaving you, let alone being reminded of another forced separation. Bam's the closest thing to a baby that either of you ever had and he was one of the few things that bonded you and your now ex-husband together.
Being Jungkook's dog, however, he couldn't stay with you. That means no more visiting the dog park, sneaking treats behind Jungkook's back, and snuggling together in the king-size bed after a stressful day.
"I'm sure he just wants his favorite chew toy that's been held hostage at the house," you joke lightly, thinking it simpler to spin the topic. It's similar to what Jungkook does when he uses flowery language to soften the cold hard truth of your divorce; that he doesn't love you and he can't ever. "Give Bam a lot of attention for me. I miss him too."
"Of cour—shit!" When Jungkook moves to slip his phone back into his pocket he loses his balance, causing the box with his belongings to spill out on your office floor. Naturally, you kneel down to help him clean up the mess. It's not until your fingers reach for the same item and come into contact with each other that you quickly retract your hand. "Sorry, did I shock you?" He asks gently and tosses the last item into the box before standing up.
"No, you didn't." You rise to your feet as well, until you're face to face with him. This time it's closer than before. His hooded eyes stare straight into yours and you can't believe it takes being inches from his face to notice how bloodshot his eyes are. "You look exhausted. You should go home and rest Kook." The petname is out before your brain tells you to stop.
Jungkook's eyes widen, the corner of his lip subtly quirking up for the first time since the start of the conversation. "Don't worry about me __. I probably get more breaks than you do. But thanks." He briefly glances at the ticking Snoopy clock behind you, a Christmas gift he gave you as a joke last year. "You still have that?"
You look over your shoulder at the small, Snoopy-shaped digital clock on your desk. Ten minutes until your next meeting. "It's cute and it makes for a great conversation starter with clients so I guess so. If you want me to give it ba—"
"Keep it," he interrupts. "Please, it was a gift and I'd like you to have it if you enjoy it." Jungkook gnaws on his lip before continuing. "Speaking of clients and business partners, I should make myself scarce now shouldn't I?"
"Yes. I do have that meeting soon." But once he leaves, neither of you is sure when you'll see the other again aside from the odd charity event. The Annual Winter Gala in December is one that particularly comes to mind.
Most high-ranking executives like yourselves attend the function to keep up appearances and to network with other professionals. Last year, you and Jungkook were the center of attention however now that you're divorced, you fear you'll be avoided like the plague—they always preferred Jungkook over you anyway.
"You're forming a new partnership with that actor, right? Kim Taehyung? I read an inkling about it online yesterday." He also read his whole biography too. The man is equally handsome as he is altruistic and kind.
"Nothing's signed and sealed yet. I'm sure you've heard that he's gotten dozens of other offers on the table. To be honest, I'm surprised you haven't nabbed him yet."
"Yeah, we don't need...wait sorry, let me rephrase that. We aren't ready for a new partner or merger yet."
You can read between the lines despite Jungkook's correction. His company is thriving more than yours in every way, so he doesn't need the help of a third-party endorser...like you. Well, you're not doing too shabby yourself and this isn't simply about fame and fortune you want to argue.
The head poking through your door stops you from following through on that last line.
"Mrs. Jeon—shit." Your secretary Kim Namjoon screws his eyes shut at his drastic misstep. "Ms. __, Kim Taehyung called and said he'll be a bit late due to unexpected delays during his filming today. He apologizes profusely but is on his way over now. Sajangnim," he bows at Jungkook respectively.
"That's fine, Namjoon, thank you. You can send him in whenever he gets here. Mr. Jeon was just about to leave and I had the rest of my day cleared."
"Of course. I'll let him know to come in." Your secretary nods and shuts the door. Jungkook shifts between his feet once Namjoon is out of sight, a habit he's picked up that tells you he has more to say.
"Was there anything else, Mr. Jeon?" You shuffle a few files on your desk, prepping for your meeting with Taehyung. At this point, you're not even looking at Jungkook.
"Mr. Jeon? I think I prefer when you call me Kook more," he mutters, allowing his line of sight to catch a glimpse of your lips. "Can I...kiss you? Before I go."
The question knocks the wind out of your lungs and you instantly lift your head up toward him. "Kiss me?" You gulp slowly, then shake your head. "No, I'd rather we not. Goodbye kisses aren't really my thing." You couldn't be a bigger liar, evident from the sudden churning in your gut. Having Jungkook's lips on yours was the best and worst moments of your entire relationship but you have to fight yourself....your innate desires that tell you to say yes.
"Okay, I understand. What about a hug?"
"Jungkook..."
"I'm sorry, I'm pushing. Thanks again for my stuff." He gestures at the box under his arm. "I hope your meeting with Kim Taehyung goes well. Maybe I'll see you both at the next Winter Gala." He makes a beeline for the door.
"Wait!"
Jungkook stills in his tracks as he watches you stride in front of him. He's unsure what you stopped him for until your hands reach out towards his shirt collar, smoothing the delicate material down. A light smile plays on his face as you do this, though he says nothing aside from a simple 'thanks'.
"It was bothering me the whole time." You finish fixing his collar and peer up into his Bambi eyes. Out of all the potential suitors, you wish Jeon Jungkook didn't become your husband. It's not like you got to keep him or anything.
Jungkook once again flickers his gaze toward your barely parted lips. And this time, you do the same for him. Before either of you have time to back out you lean forward and kiss him.
It's a hard kiss too. Painful but so inviting that neither of you pulls away.
With his free hand, Jungkook snakes a hand around your waist to hug you close. Having his fingers pressed against the small of your back is so familiar and all you can do is deepen the kiss.
You're obviously not the only one that gets a sense of pleasure from this because, in a matter of seconds, the box from under Jungkook's arm falls to the ground. He then places his second hand on the side of your neck and jawline which you lean into, exposing the other side of your neck.
"Jungkook," you gasp when his lips attach themself to the soft skin, sucking lightly. His teeth come out and nip too. "Wait, we can't do this, we shouldn't. Taehyung, he'll be here soon."
"That would have sounded so convincing if you didn't just moan the words, baby." He walks you backward until you're forced to sit atop your mahogany desk.
"Don't call me that." You allow him to push up your pencil skirt and spread your thighs until your panties are the only material he sees. You decided to go with black lace today, his favorite now that you think about it.
"Did you—"
"No, they weren't for you."
A brief growl leaves the man's rose-tinted lips. "In that case, we don't need them." He places both hands on your hips and brings you into another kiss, messier than before. His tongue shoves between the seam of your lips to lick every crevasse he can. He hasn't kissed you like this for months and to be brutally honest, he's missed it as much as you.
Jungkook hasn't been with anyone else since marrying you either, which means he's completely adjusted to your body, your preferences, and what turns you on. The same applies to you so while he's busy shoving his tongue down your throat, you palm his half-harden bulge through his trousers.
"Mm," he groans and bucks his hips into your hand. You smile at how well you've managed to draw a response from him. With a little burst of confidence, you hastily move to unbuckle his pants. "What are you doing?" He mumbles between kisses.
You decide not to answer, preferring to reach inside his trousers to take his length out. You make sure to pump it a few times until he's fully hard. Jungkook has a gorgeous dick, and that takes a lot for you to admit.
"Fuck, that's it." He says with gritted teeth, now watching your hand as it moves up and down his cock. "Get me how you want me."
"We don't have much time." You slide your panties down your legs and spread your thighs wide apart, which makes Jungkook's eyes dilate about 10 meters. "Fuck me, please." One last time. Make love to me one last time.
"Are you sure? I don't have a condom."
"It's okay, I'm on birth control. As long as you're still clean then its fine."
"I am. I got tested recently. But are you sure you want this?"
You glance at his pulsating length, tip leaking with pre-cum, and swallow hard. "Hurry."
"Fuck, okay." Jungkook wastes not another second and guides you flat on your back, his hands resting on either side of your body. The coolness of your desk has you shiver slightly. He then urges you to raise your legs until they can wrap loosely around his slim waist. And as if second nature, you link your arms around his neck as he eases him into you. He's able to bottom out without much effort thanks to how wet you've become.
"Oh god." Your back arches off the surface of your desk as Jungkook thrusts into you. They're only practice thrusts at first to get you re-adjusted to his size, yet the pleasure zipping down your spine already has your eyes rolling up.
You shouldn't be doing this at all. Your conscious whispers to again to which you blindly dismiss. You'll enjoy it now and tomorrow, start a new—another lie you tell yourself.
"Fuckfuckfuck, you're so wonderful for me," he chants while pushing his cock in and out of you, the speed of his movements picking up to an insane rate. Jungkook never had an issue with quickies so he's likely in his element now. "You know what this reminds me of?" He cocks a smirk and kisses down your neck.
"Hm?"
"That time when we were abroad for a weekend conference. Remember when we stopped at my second office to pick up some files? You were so horny that day that you pushed me into my chair and demanded that I let you ride me. It took the wind right out of my sails to see you like that, so confident and in control." He prys apart the top button of your blouse until he can slide the material down your shoulders. He doesn't take it off completely, favoring the chance to place kisses on your newly exposed area instead.
"I was beyond stressed that day. It was the first time I had to speak at that conference and you looked so good with your freshly slicked back hair. I couldn't stop myself—oh fuck! Right there Kook, don't slow down. Please." Jungkook grunts at the use of his petname and fucks you rougher, sweat forming around his forehead as his dark hair dangles messily over his eyes.
You manage to sneak a glance at the time on your Snoopy clock between thrusts. "Shit, I need to come soon, or Kim Taehyung's never going to agree to do business with me." The man laughs and buries his head on your shoulder.
"You never know, he could be really into threesomes."
"Fuck! Don't joke about that." You claw at his back and surprise both of you with the unexpected clenching of your pussy.
"You're right, I take it back," he groans and continues to snap his hips. "Looks like he's not the one who wants a threesome after all, considering your body's response to the suggestion. You wanna ask him if he walks in?" He whispers in your ear and you're embarrassed that your cheeks burn at the thought.
Of course, Kim Taehyung was sexy and you've rehearsed to yourself dozens of times not to let yourself get any crazy ideas about him. Still, one unrequited love is enough for you; Taehyung wouldn't want a divorcee. You shake the train of thought before it has time to go any further. "Make me come, Kook. Need you to finish too. It's not just Taehyung who could walk in at any second."
Jungkook grunts and continues to thrust into you, bouncing you up and down his thick length as the desk shakes underneath you. He feels you getting closer and closer by the sporadic clenching of your walls squeezing him. A big part of him doesn't want this to end but it has to....he doesn't love you. He only wants to make you feel good before he has to say goodbye. Both of you come just before Namjoon calls your office phone, giving you a heads-up that Taehyung's about to enter your office.
Jungkook shoves his pants back on while you button up your blouse and fold over your skirt. You decided to shove your underwear in your bag with the lack of time. No one has any business digging in there anyway.
"How do I look?" You turn around to get a quick once-over from Jungkook but he's already out the door. Now the person standing in front of you is Kim Taehyung who has nothing but the most genuine smile.
"You look lovely as always Ms. __. I'm so sorry I'm late by the way. I feel terrible about it so I brought you these." Taehyung whips out a large bouquet of your favorite flowers. "Hope you don't mind that I did a little research on you ahead of time. I found out these have a special place in your heart."
You smile and accept the bouquet with thanks. As you set them on your desk, a messages comes through your phone. You manage to give a quick look.
Unknown Number: Sorry I had to duck so fast! I know it looked rude but Taehyung was already opening the door and you were dressed so I thought it'd be better if I left. Hope you're meeting goes well! And thanks for everything today ;) if you need anything, you have my number.
You flip your phone over and invite Taehyung to have a seat. Business is business, and you have to carry on even if your heart has completely sunk to the ground. Kim Taehyung is sweet anyway, so you'll enjoy his company.
Too bad you don't realize how much he enjoys yours as well.
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a/n: so, yeah... there's a potential for our Jk to actually love oc and not realize it but either way he does care about her (despite the impulsive sex). And yes, taehyung likes oc... it's like a double unrequited love 😔 okay bye lmk what you think, thank you! 😘
Also, lmk what you think about jk in this poll!
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no reposting, copying, or translating my work– © kookslastbutton
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princessbrunette · 6 months
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kinktober : oct 18th
simon riley x uniform kink
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simon riley was a perceptive man. infact, he’d been waiting for you to whine out the words “keep the mask on.” since he’d let you see him wear it. from that point on, he knew sometimes you didn’t just want him, you wanted Ghost too.
opposed to contrary belief, simon isn’t actually a violent, degrading, rough, villain in the bedsheets, infact — quite rather the opposite. he’ll keep a soft cotton tshirt on over his scarred built body, sometimes if he’s been off duty for months his tummy would be a bit softer, pressing against yours as he rolls his hips against you, deep husky voice calling you his girl in your ear— and you love it. it’s your simon, the man you love.
but there’s an itch, and it must be scratched.
simon, only wanting to make you feel good is more than happy to oblige. he must admit, there is that side to him, the side that wants to let Ghost take over sometimes. he see’s that side to him as a whole different person, detached, cold, only one thing on his mind and it’s getting what he wants. he likes to leave that at the door when he comes home, his worst fear being scaring you the way he’s been made feel frightened in his past. however, when you’ve caught him coming home late, not bothered to remove all his gear, large and loud as he steps through the house — he notices that it’s not fear in your eyes, rather lust.
its almost the feeling of ‘we shouldn’t’ when you approach him, looking so much smaller than usual because he just looks all the more bigger. your hand curiously traces along his tact vest, the stiff material creating the illusion that he’s even bigger, even impossibly broader than he already is and you bite your lip. he doesn’t say a word, staring down at you through the skull mask. if it were anyone else, you’d shiver — feeling like prey. and you do, but in the best way possible. knowing it was simon in there, still dressed in the dust of his enemies, cold and hard — you couldn’t help but feel your panties dampen beneath your nightgown, thighs pressing together.
“look so good.” you whisper, barely audible— and he doesn’t say a word, almost concerned when his cock starts to bloat in his pants. it was the way you looked up at him, so vulnerable and needy. he could never resist.
you eye him — the vest, the holsters, straps around his thighs, the mask, you needed him. just like this. “can you fuck me, just like this?” you request, so shy and sweet, hands still grasping him like you were worried he’d take the uniform off. simon wants to say no, doesn’t want you to meet Ghost, not ever — but his gloved hand is stroking your cheek now, his thumb tracing over your lips and he realises it’s not his decision anymore, moreso Ghosts.
“bite.” he demands quietly, the air thick and immovable with tension and you realise he’s granting your wish. you obey, biting his glove and he slips his hand out, taking the glove from your mouth and tossing it away before he’s walking you backwards through the house, towering over you, boots grazing your feet every so often until you’re at a wall and he’s looming over you, all you could see.
his touches are rough and greedy, pawing at your tits and yanking your dress up impatiently to get to where he wants, his hand disappearing between your legs to abuse your throbbing clit. “this what you wanted, hm?” you swear his voice has gotten deeper and you nod, mewling up at him, his eyes dark behind the mask. “you’re asking to get fuckin’ ruined, you know that yeah?”
you respond with a “yes!” immediately, the word bursting out of you and he realises this must be something you’d been eager to try for a long time. if that’s what you wanted, he was gonna give it to you tenfold.
“on your knees.”
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userlando · 7 months
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call me your fool — oscar piastri
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oscar piastri x fem!reader [1.7k] summary: he's pretty good at making your legs shake, but he's even better at taking care of you in the aftermath. warnings: 18+ implied smut & explicit language, aftercare and fluffy banter a/n: wrote this initially as a blurb, but it took on a life of its own and I just kept expanding on it until I got this. thank you for all the love lately, it means the world to me!! please don’t hesitate to leave feedback <3
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It feels like your breath has been stolen from you, sucking in air through your mouth because simply breathing through your nose isn’t enough. The ache in your lungs remind you of when you go for those intensive runs with your boyfriend, where your ten kilometre jogging makes you tap out as your side cramps, whining until he eventually leads you to the nearest shop to treat you for an ice cold drink.
The sweat on your skin lays like a film, clammy and warm and it takes a while for you to blink the spots away from your eyes. It takes even longer to turn your head where it lays on the pillow, finding brown eyes staring back at you with a smile dripping with so much amusement that you would’ve laughed if you had the strength to.
“You alright?” Oscar asks, like he hadn’t just rocked your world and simultaneously turned it upside down fifty times over.
There’s a lot to be said with the way your legs are shaking, splayed out in front of you on the bed. He eyes them up appreciatively before reaching for the covers to cover your lower half as best as he could. It makes your chest expand with adoration for him, a smile playing on your lips when he scoots closer to you.
“It feels like I’ve ran a marathon.” You reply after a beat, throat dry as you swallow. “Your stamina is on a whole new level right now.”
It makes him laugh when your eyes widen in amazement, reaching a hand up to smooth your hair away from your face. He watches your skin pebble at the touch of his hand, trailing a finger up the side of your throat to your jaw.
“The perks of being a formula one driver, I guess.” He says it so modestly that you laugh, your warm huff of breath hitting his finger when he thumbs your lower lip lovingly.
You accept the kiss when he bends to give it to you, a little chapped from the previous activities but you lick into his mouth like you’re starved. It makes Oscar’s stomach turn, how needy you always are for him. It makes him feel good. Great. Like he can conquer anything if he has you by his side.
He can’t help but trail his unoccupied hand up to grasp your throat, hearing you whine and feeling you swallow against the palm of his hand. You press into his hold, almost urging him silently to put pressure on it but Oscar knows that you’ve reached your limit for tonight, you’re way too sensitive and he’d hate to cross the line even though you’re asking for it so prettily. But he can’t resist his hand travelling down your sternum, feeling the pudge of your stomach and the way it dips when you suck it in, in anticipation. Like you’re waiting for him to touch your centre and bring you to the fifth high of the night.
He stops right over your bellybutton, smiling against your lips when you stop kissing him to glare. Your faces are too close and it makes the both of you go almost cross eyed. Oscar pulls back a little to get a better look at you, breath hitching in his throat at the way your eyelashes frame your eyes so prettily; How kissable your mouth looks. You look well and truly fucked, and Oscar’s chest inflates in pride because he did that.
“You’ve really missed me, huh?” He bites his bottom lip to keep the smug smile at bay, and you roll your eyes even though your mouth is twitching with a held back smile.
You act like you hadn’t missed him, but you really had. Granted, you’d only been away from each other for two weeks but they had felt like years. There was only so much video calling and texting you could do before you grew tired and sad, wishing that the distance between the two of you could lessen and you could touch.
Oscar knows how much you had missed him, not only because you’d voiced it out loud, but because he’d missed you just as much; If not more. That’s mainly why he’d skipped the dinner with the team in Singapore in favour of locking the both of you in his hotel room, determined to make the most of this night before the race sucked every ounce of energy from his body.
“Only one part of you.” You grinned as you palmed the top of his thigh, watching him squirm at your touch as you got dangerously close to where he was sensitive and spent.
He needed at least half an hour to recuperate, but there was no stopping the slight twitch in his groin when your thumb nudged him.
“You’re a shit liar.” He leaned his head down far enough to bite your shoulder, making you squeal with laughter. He always loved how ticklish you were.
“You’re a shit boyfriend.” You said with no heat behind it, the smile on your face defeated the purpose of it. “You’re supposed to be carrying me to the bathroom and draw me a bath. Where’s my bottle of water and the tiramisu you promised me, Piastri?”
Oscar’s smile grew wider the longer you rambled, watching you silently. He loved when you got into these moods, playful and teasing after sex. Especially when he’d wrung you dry of orgasms and could get his fill of you by looking at you, letting you playfully jab at him when just moments ago, you were begging for him to be nice to you. To let you come.
“You’re not allowed to leave this bed.” He said lastly and your eyebrows shot up in amusement.
“Oh really?” You sat up in bed and stared him down. “What if I starve to death?”
“Then you’ll just have to resort to cannibalism and eat me. I hear it’s a trend these days.” He offered and you stifled a giggle.
“That’s a generous offer, I’ll take it.” You said with a nod, scrambling to swipe away the covers so you could swing one leg over to straddle him.
Oscar’s hands immediately found your hips, placing them there as you palmed his chest for support. You almost got lost in his beauty, how he managed to look as gorgeous as he did beneath you. The pink of his cheeks and the redness of his lips, it was all too breathtaking.
“Now, where to start?” You posed the question to yourself, bending down and making a show of inspecting his body. Like you didn’t know every inch of it already.
Oscar suppressed laughter as you hummed.
“This looks like a good place.” You said, touching his collarbone. “But this does too.”
His breath hitched in his throat when your fingers stroked the delicate skin of his throat, right over his pulse. It jumped in excitement under your fingers, and you must’ve felt it but he didn’t have time to analyse your face before you bent down completely to mouth at his neck.
The way you licked and sucked was way too aggressive not to leave marks, but his nerves sang with pleasure and excitement because a big part of him wanted you to mark him up. It would make things more fun when the both of you arrived at the paddock tomorrow, and he’d surely go for a shirt that did fuck all to cover it.
Oscar stroked his hands up your naked back, mouth falling open in wordless pleasure as you found his sweet spot; Right under the lobe of his ear.
You were so into it, his heavy breathing in your ear and the taste of his sweat on your tongue that you barely noticed when one hand left your body. What you did react to was when his palm made contact with your asscheek, a resounding sound echoing in the room and you jumped at the contact.
Oscar was grinning when you sat up, eyes wide and mouth gaping in shock and he didn’t dare to blink as he gripped a handful of flesh in his palm; Watching your eyelids flutter in pleasure.
“No funny business.” He warned you and you opened your eyes to pout at him. “Don’t give me that look. I’m fucking spent and you are getting in the bathtub.”
“Aren’t you getting in with me?” You frowned sadly, finding one of his hands to grab.
He pulled it closer to his mouth and separated each finger to kiss the tips of them. The little loving gesture made your stomach tighten.
“I’ve got some room service to order, don’t I?” He smiled. “You wanted that tiramisu, no?”
You gave him a slow smile as you slid off his body, swinging both your legs over the edge of the bed and Oscar took a moment to stare at you. His eyes flitted from head to toe and you squirmed a little under his attention when he sucked his lips into his mouth; Like he was holding back on saying something.
He didn't have to say it though, everything was showing in his eyes and the flush that was creeping up his neck and blossoming gorgeously over his cheeks.
"I think I want a different kind of dessert." You said, stretching a hand out and wiggling your fingers dramatically.
It made your boyfriend smile, and eventually grab your hand so you could pull each other up. It was a struggle and your legs were still shaking like your legs were bambi on ice, which was a little embarrassing. Oscar placed both hands on your naked hips in silent support, guiding the both of you into the vast bathroom of the hotel room.
"What am I gonna do with you?" He asked the question in your ear, voice low enough to send shivers down your spine as you craned your neck to peer up at him over your shoulder. "So insatiable."
The grin that you were working to keep off your face finally broke out, and Oscar leaned his head down to press a kiss to it.
"With you? Always."
4K notes · View notes
mingtinys · 1 month
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" you should rest "
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pairing : choi seungcheol x gn!reader
"13 ways to say "i love you" with seventeen"
warnings : language
word count : 0.5 k
a/n : super super excited to be doing this little mini-series starting off with seungcheol !!
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You're rudely awoken from your slumber by the slamming of brakes and Seungcheol throwing curses at the car in front of him. Your seat belt stops your momentum, though you can't say the same about your poor suitcases and bags in the back seat that tumble forward with a violent thud.
"Fucking idiot," he mutters, then looks over to you with a complete change of expression. "Are you okay?" He's still got his arm extended over your chest like a mother.
"I'm okay, are you?"
"Yeah," he sighs, letting his arm drop from its protective position in favor of resting his hand on your inner thigh. He squeezes ever so lightly in an attempt to ground himself. "Asshole cut me off and then slammed his brakes. I'm sorry to wake you."
You hum, reaching out to brush back his bangs from his eyes. A fond smile lights up his features at the gesture. "S'okay. How much longer do we have left?"
"About an hour or so."
An hour!?
"Cheol!" You scold, shuffling to sit up in your seat. "You were supposed to wake me up an hour ago to switch off!"
If there was only an hour left that meant he'd been driving for nearly three already. You only meant to nap during his half of the drive to your parents' house then you would finish the rest so he could get some sleep. You even made him promise about three times over to wake you up, but it seems that went unheard.
He just shrugs and steals a glance at you, that signature pout playing at his lips. "I don't mind. Besides, you've seemed stressed lately, I figured you could use the extra rest."
Admittedly, the extra shut-eye was pretty nice. But still, you wish he would've woken you. "I appreciate it, but I'll feel guilty if you take the whole drive. Pull over and we'll switch off for the last bit."
Stubborn as always, Seungcheol shakes his head. "I'll take care of everything, you should rest." There's honestly no arguing with him over stuff like this. So you just sigh and grumble about conquering the trip back on your own to make up for it. Seungcheol just chuckles at your dissent. "You're too cute."
You curl up in your seat once more, turning so you can admire glare at your boyfriend who's a little too happy with himself. He notices, and the way his lips crack into a smile is irritatingly adorable. Seungcheol reaches his arm to the back, fishing out his coat that had been buried under your multitude of travel bags. Placing it over your legs, he steals another lingering glance.
"You're not forgiven yet, I'm still mad at you." It's probably the least threading sentence you've ever uttered in your life. Your voice sounds whiney, even to you, and that really makes Seungcheol laugh.
"I know, baby. Sweet dreams."
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1K notes · View notes
hoseoksluna · 2 months
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WINE | jjk
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pairing: fuck buddy!jungkook x f. reader
genre: smut
word count: 4.7k
summary: both of you have a party to go to, but jungkook makes you needy again.
playlist: it's jeon time / pinterest board: wine
warnings: forced drinking, neck kissing, dom/sub dynamics, use of pet names and one particular title <3, degradation and praise, reader has daddy issues (like the writer), sensual dancing, dirty talk, spanking, oral sex (f. receiving), fingering, orgasm denial, squirting, rough sex, plushie used during intercourse, hair pulling, jungkook needing to be in control, the importance of dom/sub role-play being just a role-play and not extending past the sex practice, aftercare
note: this was meant to be a fluff fic with jimin but then jungkook x calvin klein happened and i was fucked. my libido was awakened by that man, my ovulation triggered by his seductiveness and fucking godly beauty. this might be tmi, but i genuinely felt turned on while writing this, so i hope you enjoy. my bestie who always reads my work first said that my jungkook fics are vastly different from the ones with other members, and i agree. the sole reason behind it is the simple fact that jungkook owns my sexuality. so, yeah. please, show some love in the comments. happy reading!!
side note: HAPPY BDAY HOBI ᡣ𐭩
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“A bit tipsy, aren’t we?”
You’re twirling. Twirling in golden circles as the late afternoon sunset traces the curves of your figure with its fingers, giving willingly a brisk dose of vigor to the movement as your delicately tousled curls spin around you. The warm light hits the shimmer on the highest points of your cheeks—coalesces with the glitter and you smile at the sun, fluttering your eyes shut. The ardent giggle spilling out of the mouth of your close friend is the music you dance to, and it helps your smile to grow in width.
You have somewhere to be. Both of you do. But you deem this is more important—it is your pregame after all, even though the wine glass in your hand is empty. Small drops of the white nectar make traces on the parquet floor, leaving behind the evidence of your joy, light as a feather somewhere within you. 
Freshly showered, Jungkook watches the show you put on for him. With one shoulder, he leans against the large wardrobe and rolls his sleeves upwards on his forearms, wrists adorned with golden bracelets that tinkle with each effort. He does it slowly, blindly. Prefers to focus on you, and not on the task he’s done too many times. You face him, aware of his warm gaze, and you lean your glass towards his chest, tilting your head to the side. 
“Barely,” you say. “Had one glass. Have another one with me?”
Jungkook smiles fondly, dropping his eyes to his wrists as he fixes the stacking of the thick gold. The cherry wood accentuates his countenance in a way that magnetically pulls you closer to him. Your legs act on their own, feet making their way to his. Something about the way they are shod in shiny dress shoes and yours are bare, toenails painted in cotton candy pink, drives a certain scarlet hue to go mad upon your dew-kissed face. Or maybe it’s the fact you two fucked hardly an hour ago that does it. You’ve always liked the scene, in which you’re naked and he’s fully dressed. Or it’s your ever persistent daddy issues and your obsession with Lolita. Maybe it’s a mixture of both.
You notice a ring on his pinky finger as he sweeps his ebony hair back. It wasn’t there when he had those digits wrapped around your throat in missionary. You take his inked hand to get a closer look, noticing the engraving of his last name. His father must have the same one. You caress it with your thumb. Its yellow gleam seeps into your skin—illuminates you and envelops you in its aura, fixing a heavenly halo above your head. You find yourself smiling when you look up at him and find that he’s been gazing down at you the whole time, his very own angel.
“If I were to have a glass of wine with you,” he mutters, and the mischievous twinkle that appears in his eyes excites you in a way that angels shouldn’t be provoked. “Then, there would be no party to go to.”
You know what he means, but you play dumb. You want to hear him say it.
“How so?” you ask and you widen your eyes softly to appear more alluring. You’re not sure if your body would handle another round, but you do enjoy the teasing—you enjoy the talk, the chase, the fuzzy feelings in your tummy.
Jungkook straightens and reaches for the bottle on the coffee table four steps away from you. Sinks the body of the glass onto his palm, pouring a good amount of the liquid inside. Nibbles his bottom lip as he stalks towards you, handing you the nectar, although he doesn’t let go. Your fingers wrap around his and it’s him who does the first move—lifting his arm to tilt the glass to your mouth. He’s gentle, a safe distance away to watch his whimsy unfold, but firm. He doesn’t lower his hand until the spillage of the gilded liquid trickles down your throat. Only then does he chuckle, setting the glass down. Satisfied.
Dizziness stirs your mind and you hardly have time to take a breather before Jungkook latches his mouth onto your wine-stained neck, tongue coming out to play—cleaning you up in figure eights that cause you to roll your eyes back. The ends of your curls tickle the back of his hand as he brushes his fingers along the dip of your spine, the skin bare in the open back of your knitted dress—made perfect for his sly touches.
He doesn’t press you against his body when he begins to suck on your neck; he still keeps the distance. Perhaps to make you needy, perhaps to make you ask for more. And it’s working, the magnetic pull does its thing once more and you roll your chest against his, aching to fit in the spaces of his figure that you know full well are there for you to hide in. Your nipples perk up at the slight attention, and electrifying sparks glide down the perimeters of your form in a way that you wish his hands would.
Absentmindedly, you touch them and Jungkook notices as he switches to the other side of your neck, the more sensitive one, the one that always leaves you dripping with your essence. You let him know, vocally, how much you like him there, and the sounds of pleasure you utter into his ear force him to pull out his phone from his pocket, steal your hand from your breast and place it in your palm.
He withdraws with a pop, plump lips coming to trace the shell of your ear. “I think we need some music,” he whispers, fingers skimming the curve of your ass. “Can you play some? Can you do that for me?”
Oh, that degradation kink of his. He knows he flung you out of his world into a pretty pink planet somewhere out there in the universe with that skilled tongue of his. He knows how dumb you get when horniness flushes your body with heat—he knows it intimately, for he’s the one who fucks you, the one you give yourself to when you blossom with the need to do so. He’s the one who opens the petals one by one, never to tear them, but to smell them, kiss them, hover them over the tender skin of his face just to be close to you. He knows you and he knows how to play with you just how you like it.
And you like to get into this state of mind. You like to be degraded, even though you’ll never admit it. You particularly like to get degraded by Jungkook.
Because of that reason, he likes to awaken it in you, beckon it to come out. How he found out is beyond your understanding. You reckon he sensed it while having your orgasms in his control. Somewhere in that dynamic, he found a little nook of a library and its contents fell into his grasp when he sank his fingers inside of you. All he had to do was read. And, also, listen.
Your bodily and vocal reactions didn’t protest.
You can’t even see his lockscreen, the numbers as you type in his mother’s birthday because Jungkook begins to toy with your earlobe, nibbling at the flesh ever so slightly. The pleasure, the wine getting into your head—it’s all suddenly too much. Paradoxically, you find the app somehow without looking out of a habit you learned throughout the months you’ve been casually seeing him, for Jungkook never fucks without his ‘It’s Jeon Time’ sex playlist. And he always wants you to pick out the first song. 
It impacts what he does to you later.
You scroll and you tap on a random song.
No BS by Chris Brown.
You return the phone and Jungkook begins to pepper soft kisses on your throat, pocketing the device. A sudden throbbing on your bundle of nerves makes you tenderly whine and in your head, you curse him out for making you needy again. He pretends not to hear you, making a way to your chin. He kisses it. Ghosts his lips over yours, puckers them to tease you and hums in appreciation for the song. You grab him everywhere you can. Hair, neck, shoulders. Squeezing. As if he hadn’t fucked the soul out of you earlier. As if you weren’t spent. And he just laughs.
No matter how soft the sound is, it forces all of the peach fuzz on your body to rise.
Oh, you’ve made him horny. You’re fucked.
No party for you.
“Good little girl,” he coos, grabbing your ass and pulling you flush to his body. The praise before the degradation—the calm before the storm. “Can always expect the best from you. You never fail to please me.”
His hardness greets you first, pressed torturously against your mound. You mewl at the feeling, but he silences you. His lips are second to say a playful hello as they delve into a firm kiss, hand grasping your hair in his fist. He inhales against you and before the two of you know it, you’re moving your bodies to the slow, sensual rhythm of the song. Jungkook kisses you again, parts your lips with his and slips his tongue inside. 
Just to taste you, briefly.
He spins you around. 
Towering over you, he wraps his arms around your middle and sways with you, pushing your hair to one side, so he can focus on your neck once more. Gliding his lips up and down your neck, nose nuzzling into the safe space there near your ear, he inhales again, your scent being the translucent ship that gets him to heavenly places he dreams of every now and then. He guides you with his hips, needing to be in control of everything, even of something as insignificant as a simple, intimate dance. You love it, you could never get enough of it. The stability being the foundation that holds it is what attracts you to it, the stability that you never had, the one that your inner child deserves. 
Palms flat on your tummy, Jungkook drifts them down and stops at your hips, fingers reaching your mound. 
“Those hips will be the death of me,” he murmurs, caressing your sides while continuing guiding you, pressing you just right against his prominent length. “Did you really expect me not to get hard seeing you dance like that?” 
You bite your lip, furrowing your eyebrows, rotating your hips to the chorus of the song, head empty. 
Jungkook grunts. The sound intoxicates you even more.
“My princess doesn’t really know what she’s doing to me, does she?” He hooks his fingers under the hem of your dress. “Too horny, too needy to think, hm?”
Shamelessly, you nod. “Want you again. Want to feel you inside of me.” 
Jungkook hums, then breaks into a gentle laughter. Lifts your garment and lets his fingers roam on your clothed folds, the white fabric drenched in your dewiness—pellucid enough to show the beauty of your flesh. 
Aware of how wet you are, he clicks his tongue. “You filthy girl, how many times do I have to fuck you in order for you to have enough?”
You grow silent. Brimming with a woozy desire, you opt to grind your ass against him again. Your brain cannot come up with any smart answer that would please him, so this is the best you could do. Jungkook curses under his breath, leans back to watch you. He meets each and every movement of your hips and completes them, creating waves that spur the butterflies in your belly to life. 
“Filthy”—He spanks you—“Fucking”—Another spank—“Girl.”
Knees bent, Jungkook grinds against your core, cutting short your hissing. He turns you around and bends you against the wardrobe, places your hands flat on the cherry wood. Takes off your panties swiftly and lets them pool by your ankles. Spanks you below your ass cheek, moaning at the lift and ripple of your plumpness. Does it again on the other one, letting out a sound that makes your dewiness, similarly like the wine down the sides of your neck, leak and stick to your inner thighs. Something between a dark chuckle, a moan and a purr of endearment. 
“What am I to do with such a greedy girl like you?” he says, fingers tracing each curve of your ass to etch the memory of it deeper into his brain. “You deserve to be fucked like this. Mercilessly, for my pleasure. Like the little slut you are. But I’ll be good to you.” 
He pushes your left inner thigh, guiding you to spread your legs. Cups your pussy, digits spreading your essence all over you. 
“I’ll be good to you because you just can’t help it, can you? Poor little baby is just a slut for this cock.”
You mewl at his words, but then you discover that he didn’t lubricate your cunt for you, but for himself.
You yelp when you feel his tongue right there on the softness of your inner thigh, licking up a stripe to drink you. You didn’t expect him to do it so quickly and your whines increase in volume when Jungkook buries his head in your pussy, the deft muscle swirling around your pulsating bundle, licking between your folds and teasing around your hole. You push your hips back, wanting him there more than ever, but he spanks you, bites your flesh before he soothes the pain with his kisses. Big kisses as he calls them, the ones with full tongue. The nasty, the dirty. Big kisses for big girls with experience—those he teaches. 
Jungkook stands up and wraps his fingers around your jawline, holding you like that as he draws closer to your ear. 
“Looks like you can’t go out with your little pussy wet like that and those pretty panties soiled like they are, can you?” He turns your head so you look at him and you let him see your star-filled eyes, damp with the cosmos. “What would they think of you?”
“Koo,” you cry out.
He purrs in mock sympathy. “I left you alone for what, half an hour? And your pussy is needy again. That’s not right, is it? You should stop and think about this. Daddy’s not fixing it for you.” 
As if he hadn’t spoken a word, he sinks his fingers inside of you. Middle and ring. Jackhammers them until you scream, then he pulls them out and spanks your pussy once, twice. With all four of his digits, he rubs the entirety of your femininity, sloppily and rapidly, the drops of your essence joining the company of the drying wine on the parquet floor. You’re seeing white, your orgasm inches away from you.
“Jungkook, please, don’t stop—” Your mouth rounds, voice breaks into a moan. “I’m gonna come, please, please—” 
He withdraws his fingers. Entire body, too. Like a starved animal, head tipped low, he stares you down. 
You struggle to catch your breath, swallowing dryly, leaning your head against your forearms.
“You said—you said you’d be good to me,” you croak out, throat dry, eyes lidding, mind absolutely fucked out. 
“I am.” 
The meaning of his words eludes you, but you soon forget about thinking when he licks his fingers clean. Wraps those pretty, puffy pillows around his slender fingers and sucks them. Then, he undoes the few buttons left of his ebony shirt, slowly and precisely. You clench around nothing, walls pressing together tightly. You’d slip a finger inside if you weren’t holding the side of the wardrobe for dear life.
“Get on the bed, now,” he orders. “Leave the dress on. Panties, too. I’ll show everyone how much of a little slut you are.” 
Without a second thought, you do as he says. 
You sit down on the edge of the bed and spread your legs as wide for him as the undergarment enfolding your thighs allows you, the ivory material pulled taut—your dewiness on show. Jungkook walks into the room like he has all the time in the world, like you aren’t gripping the flesh of your sides in order not to touch yourself. His shirt is fully unbuttoned now and the fabric lets you see a slither of his defined abdomen and fine black pubic hair peeking out of his Calvins due to how low his slacks are fixed on his hips. You lick your lips, dig half-moons into your skin until your knuckles turn white.
You need him. You need him so much that tears pool within the cosmos of your eyes.
“If only they were to see you right now,” he mutters. “So desperate for me. It’s too bad only I get to see you like this, isn’t it?” 
He worsens your desire with that mouth of his. It’s extreme. You scratch your nails down your thighs to relieve yourself at least a little bit. 
Fists on each side of you, Jungkook leans towards you. His simple gold chain swings in your face and you bite your lip to keep your needy mewls at bay.
“Am I talking to myself?” 
You shake your head ‘no’. 
“Did you forget how to talk?” He cocks his eyebrow. 
“I need you so bad. I can’t take it anymore,” you whine out, the best your brain could muster.
Jungkook puckers his lips at you in feigned sympathy again and you expect the worst to come out of his mouth, but he surprises you when he says, “what do you want me to do to you?”
You gasp almost soundlessly. Your heart skips in your chest happily. Fire of the starlight shines in your eyes and a brand new flush finds its way to your cheeks, hotter than the one from earlier when you were dancing with the sun. Before you can think you answer through, it slips out of you.
“Lick my pussy, please.” 
Jungkook smirks and the blush of roses smears across his cheeks and nose as well. He wipes at his mouth as if your answer made him drool—cuts the anticipation and kneels down at the bed, pushing your legs back. 
“Who am I to deny you?” 
The butterflies within your tummy go berserk. 
Tongue flat, he licks up your cunt. Over and over, lapping up your wetness, moaning, seizing your girlishness and rolling it over in his mouth. You tip your head back between your shoulder blades and your arms begin to shake, holding all of your weight. Like you were previously grinding against him, you do the same movement now into his face. Recreate the waves as he rides his tongue against your clit. 
He stops when you catch his gaze.
You cry out for him, bucking your hips. He shakes his head, eyes never leaving yours. His puffy lips glint in the dimmed light, the sun rays seconds away from saying their final goodbye.
“Needy little whore.”
Jungkook flicks at your little seashell, wraps those pillows around the muscle out of habit, but decides against it. Denies you the pleasure, knows too well you come too quickly from the suction. Decides to flutter his tongue instead, the pressure light, making you tremble like a butterfly wing. Retracts. Starts the torture again, alternating between light and hard. Fucks with your brain. Fucks with you.
“This feels too good, Daddy, oh my god.” 
You watch him at work, mouth parted open, sounds of gratification coming out freely. He’s never done this to you before. It’s new, it’s different and it feels otherworldly; it feels like he’s transporting you back to pink planet again. The faint pleasure, the build up, the hard intensity at last before he starts again. He pins your hips down to prevent you from getting ahead, lidded eyes zeroing on yours, and the cord in your belly tightens. You near to the edge, gusts of gasps and ragged breaths flowing out of your mouth. 
“I’m coming, Daddy, I’m coming, oh fuck.” 
The harsh light of stars comes down slowly upon your eyesight. You’re almost there. You roll your hips to meet his tongue one last time, despite the deathly grip he has on your hip bones, but he lifts his head. Rips the orgasm away from you.
“No.” He wipes his mouth with his hand.
Your vision blurs and frustration burns you hot.
“What?”
“You’re not coming.” 
You stare at him, eyelashes flittering. At loss for words.
“We have a party to go to, don’t we?” 
You scrunch up your eyebrows. You thought you weren’t going anywhere?
“And if you’re good, I’ll think about letting you come tonight.”
Your mouth falls open. 
“Close it before I fuck it.” 
He cups your chin, closing it for you. Wraps his fingers around your throat and pushes you back on the mattress. Your hair fans all around you and you hold your clothed breasts for emotional support, your brain not really registering that you’re getting fucked and that you’re not allowed to cum. You sob tearlessly at his cruelty, lifting your head to look at him. 
Jungkook unzips his slacks. Doesn’t bother to lower them, only pulls out his heavy length out of the tight confines of his boxers. His precum shines prettily on his mushroom and he spreads it all around him, jacking himself off, grunting, groaning, throwing his head back. All while being completely ignorant to your inner turmoil. 
“Look at what you’ve done to me,” he whispers, letting go of his cock to show you just how hard he is. 
Your head spins. His tip reaches his belly button and the thickness of his shaft obscures most of his pubic hair. You moan, aching to have him inside of you. Feel your slick trickle down onto the bedding. 
“So hot,” you say, lifting your eyes to catch him focused on the reactions painted on your face with his bottom lip sucked between his teeth, chest heaving quickly. “You’re so beautiful.” 
Abruptly, Jungkook flops you onto your stomach. Crawls over you. Straddles you. Veiny forearms, partly shielded by the waterfall of your hair, come to stay on either side of your head. 
He reaches for the white bunny plushie resting against the pillows and hands him to you. Brushes your hair away from your face to whisper into your ear, “you better hold onto him.” 
You clutch him to your chest and bury your face in his soft fur. 
“Remember the rule?” he asks and you feel him drag the tip of his cock down the line of your ass—you feel him stop at your tight hole. 
Your breath shakes. “I can’t come.” 
Body reacting on its own, hips lifting, you allow him to glide down to your pussy.
Jungkook hums in appreciation. “That’s right. Look at you, so good for me already.” 
He chuckles darkly and you hate your life.
“You only know how to behave yourself when you want to come, don’t you? Such a slut.”
He punctuates his sentence by sheathing himself inside of you. You grip your plushie tight, groaning into his fur. He does it all in one go, not stopping once to let you adjust around him. He huffs against your hair, mocks your sound, eyelashes fluttering at your tightness, mouth agape. It’s otherworldly how he fits. It’s otherworldly how you can make out his expression, how you see it clearly behind your closed eyelids—how him mocking you and imitating you makes you drip even more, the lewdness of your juices encouraging him to go balls-deep. 
He rams into you. 
You scream into the bunny.
He rams into you in staccatos, the headboard of the bed colliding over and over again into the wall. Swift jerks. Hard. 
You feel so full.
“Slutty fucking pussy,” he whispers, gathers all of your hair into his fist and pulls your head back. Begins to fuck you evenly, picking up the pace. “So tight around Daddy, fuck.” 
You must be floating. Somewhere out there within that pink planet. All your surroundings are bleary, distorted, but so vibrant. Just as your hair is pulled back so are your wings retracted in the same way, held by your captor. You feel his lips at your temple, parted, breath hot and heavy. You can’t even hear yourself amidst your pleasure and his, but somehow—all of a sudden—you hear the voice of your favorite singer echoing in the living room.
Do I Wanna Know by the Arctic Monkeys. 
Little by little, you feel yourself returning back to planet Earth. Drool wets the corners of your mouth and you don’t have the strength to wipe it off, focusing all of your strength on stalling your orgasm, the voice of your beloved Alex pushing against you in a fight.
Jungkook lets go of your hair, but wraps the same arm around your shoulders, plushie and neck, his weight coming on top of yours. Continues to slam into you without any care of the world, heedless of the way you’re fighting for your life.
“If I’m not mistaken, this is your song, baby, isn’t it?” he breathes into your ear, slowing down his pace, hips rocking against you to the rhythm.
You sob at the mercy, the ferocity of your incoming orgasm dwindling away. 
That is until he starts pounding you into the mattress again. 
You scream out. White vision begins to chase you again, the cord tightening in your full lower tummy. 
“Jungkook, please, I can’t—I can’t—” 
He grunts at your helplessness, hand gripping your mouth. Pace so fast your head knocks back into his shoulder. 
“You can take it. It’s your song.” He squeezes your cheeks. Grinds his hips slowly. You roll your eyes back, feeling him nudge your cervix. 
He begins to kiss along your jawline, your earlobe, the contours of the shell. You do the same, peppering kisses upon his forearm as your position allows you. 
“We could be together, if you wanted to,” he huffs the lyrics into your ear, just for you to hear. 
The cord snaps. 
Wetness gushes out of you; a sweet stream of your dewiness forces him to pull out of you—and your wet orgasm triggers his. He paints your open back white with his hot spurts of cum, sealing you, completing you. Jacks himself off with one hand while the other rubs your pussy, spanking it. You’re squirming, screaming, the orgasm long and so intense that you don’t even know where you are. Jungkook fingers you with three digits and coaxes another surge out of you. Slacks destroyed, dress soiled, bodies spent—your screams silent. 
He caresses the roundness of your ass to calm you down. 
“Breathe for me, baby,” 
You try, but you can’t. 
Too exhausted. 
You feel him leave, but in a moment you sense the mattress dipping beside you. The coldness of wet wipes on your skin, getting rid of the evidence of his pleasure. The warmth of his thumb on the tear-stained skin under your eyes as he turns you to your side. 
A glass of cold water is in his hand. You suddenly feel parched. His touch brought your senses back to you. 
“Sit up.”
You finish the glass in gulps. Some of it leaks down your throat. Jungkook smirks. 
“Well done.”
You hug your plushie tighter. “I’m sorry for coming.” 
Jungkook caresses your hair. You’re sitting on your legs while he’s standing by the side of the bed. Running his fingers through your disheveled, ruined curls. 
“I fucked you that hard on purpose,” he murmurs, curling a strand of hair behind your ear, finger coming to a stop at the beginning of the line of your jaw. “It was my intention to make you come.” 
You lean into his touch. Kiss the edge of his palm. Drowsy, droopy eyes still bearing into his. 
“Like I said. You did well.” He presses a kiss to your forehead. “Arms up.”
He takes off your dress and slinks your arms through the sleeves of his black shirt that he had discarded while fucking you. Your eyelids are shut when he lays you down on the cold side of the bed, tucking you in, and you’re halfway through the footpath to your pink planet when he promises, “I’ll make it up to you about that party.” 
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BACK to masterlist / read part two
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i4hischier · 2 months
Text
𝜗𝜚 just come home , lando norris
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✦ °. — girl dad!lando norris x fem!reader
✦ °. — plot: your husband has been away due to racing season so when your two year old vocalizes on the phone how much he misses him, he takes a break from his breaktime to come see his two favorite girls.
✦ °. — warnings: none, lando + reader get emotional, really cute like tooth rotting (wc: 902)
✦ °. — mars’ mind: i had this exact dream about lando a few nights ago and really really wanted to write about it before my head exploded
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it was slowly getting late as you stood in the kitchen washing up dishes from dinner, while your daughter lily sat in the floor playing with her toys. your phone started buzzing, you looked at it and saw lando was trying to facetime you. you hurried to dry off your hands and swipe to answer.
“hello!” lando beamed once your face appeared on the screen. “hi my love” you smile, propping yourself up against the counter on your elbows. “how are you doing?” he asks, its was bright out, he most likely was just now leaving the track he just raced on.
“oh i was cleaning up from dinner” you pause, “i watched your race, did good today im proud of you!” the praise made lando smile from ear to ear, he got p4 which isnt podium but still something to be proud of. “maybe that why i did so good, cause i had my lucky charm watching me” he giggled at his own remark, even made himself blush.
you walk over to your daughter, sitting on the floor next to her. “actually, you had both of your lucky charms!” you smile, showing lily the phone. lando’s face lit up and he waved at her, “hi darling!” he chimed.
lily reached out for the phone, grabbing it from you and holding it comedically close to her face. “oh okay i guess its her phone now” you joke, smiling at her. “hi h-hi daddy!” she seemed as if she wanted to reach out to him through the phone. lando giggled at just the pure sound of her voice.
“hi there princess, did you watch daddy race today?” he asks. she doesnt say anything back she just nods her head. “i-i miss you” her little voice and her pleading words made your bottom lip stick out in a pout. “aw you do? well daddy will be home soon okay darling?” lily nodded, turning her attention back to her toys and dropping the phone on the ground.
you grab the phone, standing up and walking down the hallway to the bathroom. “well i guess she didnt want to talk to me anymore” he jokes before pausing to take notice of your face. the lines around your eyes and your nose turned pink and eyes watery. “whats wrong baby?” he plead. “i dont know” you shrugged, laughing at yourself for getting teary eyed. “for some reason the way she said she missed you pulled at my heart strings a little bit” you smile.
“i know mine too a little bit, made me feel a little choked up” he smiled. “we do really miss you over here though” you got somewhat serious with your statement. “i know honey and you know i’d be on a plane to you right now if i could but my body desperately needs a break”
you nodded, you knew he was right. it wasnt gonna be like this forever but for the small amount of time that it is, it sucks. “i know baby, and its okay, you know i want you to prioritize yourself right now” you smile, at him. “okay, ill let you get to bed soon, kiss lily for me too okay?” you nodded, sniffling and wiping your face. the two of you exchanged virtual kisses before hanging up, allowing you to get ready for bed.
the next morning was the same as all of them, morning shower, then making and eating breakfast and then cleaning up. lily had just gotten cleaned up and you left her in the living room watching tv so you could brush your teeth. you stood for a minute, looking at yourself in the mirror poking at all of your insecurities you’ve had your whole life.
suddenly you heard lily yell “daddy!” you assumed maybe lando had called you and she got to the phone. “lily honey is daddy on the phone?” you called out walking down the hallway. there was silence, no talking from lily just complete silence. “lily?” you called out again.
you stopped in your tracks when you reached the living room, there stood lando in the doorway, holding lily tightly in his arms as she giggled. “oh my god!” you smiled, lost for words as you ran up to him throwing your arms around his neck. “hi baby” he laughed at the sheer force in which you threw your body at him with. his free arm wrapped around your waist, holding you at the small of your back.
“what are you doing here?” you ask, placing both hands on each side of his face. “well obviously i needed to see my two pretty girls” he smiles, smothering lily with kisses, making her burst into a fit of giggles, slowly sitting her back down.
the both of you watched as she quickly ran back over to toys. you turned your attention back to eachother as you connected your lips, which was the first time in a week but felt like years. “no really why are you here? you need rest and you what, get on plane and choose to lose sleep?” you mutter.
he shrugged his shoulders, smiling at you, “i meant what i said, i wanted to see the two of you, plus i’ll get my sleep eventually.” you felt emotional again, you always felt emotions stronger when it came to lando for some reason, you just couldnt understand how you had gotten so lucky to be with him.
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(author’s notes:) i had to rewrite this twice bc tumblr kept deleting it but how do we feel about girl dad lando BE HONEST!!! thank you for reading & don’t forget to join my taglist !!
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