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#i think that's it. off the top of my head‚ at least. it really adds just. a fun factor to saying the word. i also like the phrase “none of
front-facing-pokemon · 9 months
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paimonial-rage · 1 month
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I was thinking about this while helping my friend beta something yesterday like… I vaguely remember that at one time, I felt (punctuation) periods were too harsh. They had a sense of finality about them. They were too loud and vibrant. Commas were more comforting to use. They felt softer and not as exact. And then I look at my writing now and there's nothing I love more than a period. I love how sharp it is. I love its finality.
Like I can't understate enough how much a period makes a statement. Like that's what it's supposed to do, yes, but it's more than that. It tells the audience that what precedes is true. It's a fact. And when you yield a period properly, it emphasizes and highlights what is stated. It stands out. It's final. It has weight. It's such a powerful thing that it's addicting to use.
#thoughts#personal#writing#i should be putting this in the main post but the main post has a vibe that i don't want to interrupt#the way to properly wield a period is by varying the lengths of your sentences#a good key to remember is that long sentences are meant for providing information#*long sentences are not meant to stand out*#when you want to highlight something that is key you use a short sentence#making it short makes it clear to the audience that the statement is meant to hold weight#however it is important to keep variety in the lengths of your sentences#a short sentence after a short sentence does not stand out as much as a short sentence after a long sentence#think of it like this#if you have two short people standing next to each other they look normal#if you put a short person next to someone really tall it makes the short person look shorter than they actually are#their shortness really stands out#this is called juxtaposition#i can make a whole essay based off of the importance of juxtaposition too HAHA#periods can be loud but i highly recommend trying to learn how to use them#one of you said you like hearing my thought process when i write so i hope you find this one interesting!!#now i'm gonna speak more off the top of my head but i feel that ppl that dislike periods are very sensitive to the flow in their stories#there is a flow to a sentence when you use commas and periods tend to disrupt that flow#a period/short sentence is too abrupt and jarring#at least that's what i assume they feel#however imho i feel ppl that feel this way are overly sensitive to the flow they perceive exists in their sentences/paragraphs#i have to tell myself this constantly that things that flow seamlessly aren't always a good thing#imagine your writing like an orchestral piece. are they always flowy and legato? or are there moments where the music jumps or changes?#and what do those sudden jumps do? they wake the audience. they catch the audience's attention. they add variety and interest#imagine an orchestral piece that the tempo never changes. the volume never shifts. every note bleeds into the next#you get put to sleep!#so a period may seem abrupt in the scheme of the sentence but look at it from the view of the whole paragraph. it may be better than u thin
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yeoldenews · 4 months
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A Guide to Historically Accurate Regency-Era Names
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I recently received a message from a historical romance writer asking if I knew any good resources for finding historically accurate Regency-era names for their characters.
Not knowing any off the top of my head, I dug around online a bit and found there really isn’t much out there. The vast majority of search results were Buzzfeed-style listicles which range from accurate-adjacent to really, really, really bad.
I did find a few blog posts with fairly decent name lists, but noticed that even these have very little indication as to each name’s relative popularity as those statistical breakdowns really don't exist.
I began writing up a response with this information, but then I (being a research addict who was currently snowed in after a blizzard) thought hey - if there aren’t any good resources out there why not make one myself?
As I lacked any compiled data to work from, I had to do my own data wrangling on this project. Due to this fact, I limited the scope to what I thought would be the most useful for writers who focus on this era, namely - people of a marriageable age living in the wealthiest areas of London.
So with this in mind - I went through period records and compiled the names of 25,000 couples who were married in the City of Westminster (which includes Mayfair, St. James and Hyde Park) between 1804 to 1821.
So let’s see what all that data tells us…
To begin - I think it’s hard for us in the modern world with our wide and varied abundance of first names to conceive of just how POPULAR popular names of the past were.
If you were to take a modern sample of 25-year-old (born in 1998) American women, the most common name would be Emily with 1.35% of the total population. If you were to add the next four most popular names (Hannah, Samantha, Sarah and Ashley) these top five names would bring you to 5.5% of the total population. (source: Social Security Administration)
If you were to do the same survey in Regency London - the most common name would be Mary with 19.2% of the population. Add the next four most popular names (Elizabeth, Ann, Sarah and Jane) and with just 5 names you would have covered 62% of all women.
To hit 62% of the population in the modern survey it would take the top 400 names.
The top five Regency men’s names (John, William, Thomas, James and George) have nearly identical statistics as the women’s names.
I struggled for the better part of a week with how to present my findings, as a big list in alphabetical order really fails to get across the popularity factor and also isn’t the most tumblr-compatible format. And then my YouTube homepage recommended a random video of someone ranking all the books they’d read last year - and so I present…
The Regency Name Popularity Tier List
The Tiers
S+ - 10% of the population or greater. There is no modern equivalent to this level of popularity. 52% of the population had one of these 7 names.
S - 2-10%. There is still no modern equivalent to this level of popularity. Names in this percentage range in the past have included Mary and William in the 1880s and Jennifer in the late 1970s (topped out at 4%).
A - 1-2%. The top five modern names usually fall in this range. Kids with these names would probably include their last initial in class to avoid confusion. (1998 examples: Emily, Sarah, Ashley, Michael, Christopher, Brandon.)
B - .3-1%. Very common names. Would fall in the top 50 modern names. You would most likely know at least 1 person with these names. (1998 examples: Jessica, Megan, Allison, Justin, Ryan, Eric)
C - .17-.3%. Common names. Would fall in the modern top 100. You would probably know someone with these names, or at least know of them. (1998 examples: Chloe, Grace, Vanessa, Sean, Spencer, Seth)
D - .06-.17%. Less common names. In the modern top 250. You may not personally know someone with these names, but you’re aware of them. (1998 examples: Faith, Cassidy, Summer, Griffin, Dustin, Colby)
E - .02-.06%. Uncommon names. You’re aware these are names, but they are not common. Unusual enough they may be remarked upon. (1998 examples: Calista, Skye, Precious, Fabian, Justice, Lorenzo)
F - .01-.02%. Rare names. You may have heard of these names, but you probably don’t know anyone with one. Extremely unusual, and would likely be remarked upon. (1998 examples: Emerald, Lourdes, Serenity, Dario, Tavian, Adonis)
G - Very rare names. There are only a handful of people with these names in the entire country. You’ve never met anyone with this name.
H - Virtually non-existent. Names that theoretically could have existed in the Regency period (their original source pre-dates the early 19th century) but I found fewer than five (and often no) period examples of them being used in Regency England. (Example names taken from romance novels and online Regency name lists.)
Just to once again reinforce how POPULAR popular names were before we get to the tier lists - statistically, in a ballroom of 100 people in Regency London: 80 would have names from tiers S+/S. An additional 15 people would have names from tiers A/B and C. 4 of the remaining 5 would have names from D/E. Only one would have a name from below tier E.
Women's Names
S+ Mary, Elizabeth, Ann, Sarah      
S - Jane, Mary Ann+, Hannah, Susannah, Margaret, Catherine, Martha, Charlotte, Maria
A - Frances, Harriet, Sophia, Eleanor, Rebecca
B - Alice, Amelia, Bridget~, Caroline, Eliza, Esther, Isabella, Louisa, Lucy, Lydia, Phoebe, Rachel, Susan
C - Ellen, Fanny*, Grace, Henrietta, Hester, Jemima, Matilda, Priscilla
D - Abigail, Agnes, Amy, Augusta, Barbara, Betsy*, Betty*, Cecilia, Christiana, Clarissa, Deborah, Diana, Dinah, Dorothy, Emily, Emma, Georgiana, Helen, Janet^, Joanna, Johanna, Judith, Julia, Kezia, Kitty*, Letitia, Nancy*, Ruth, Winifred>
E - Arabella, Celia, Charity, Clara, Cordelia, Dorcas, Eve, Georgina, Honor, Honora, Jennet^, Jessie*^, Joan, Joyce, Juliana, Juliet, Lavinia, Leah, Margery, Marian, Marianne, Marie, Mercy, Miriam, Naomi, Patience, Penelope, Philadelphia, Phillis, Prudence, Rhoda, Rosanna, Rose, Rosetta, Rosina, Sabina, Selina, Sylvia, Theodosia, Theresa
F - (selected) Alicia, Bethia, Euphemia, Frederica, Helena, Leonora, Mariana, Millicent, Mirah, Olivia, Philippa, Rosamund, Sybella, Tabitha, Temperance, Theophila, Thomasin, Tryphena, Ursula, Virtue, Wilhelmina
G - (selected) Adelaide, Alethia, Angelina, Cassandra, Cherry, Constance, Delilah, Dorinda, Drusilla, Eva, Happy, Jessica, Josephine, Laura, Minerva, Octavia, Parthenia, Theodora, Violet, Zipporah
H - Alberta, Alexandra, Amber, Ashley, Calliope, Calpurnia, Chloe, Cressida, Cynthia, Daisy, Daphne, Elaine, Eloise, Estella, Lilian, Lilias, Francesca, Gabriella, Genevieve, Gwendoline, Hermione, Hyacinth, Inez, Iris, Kathleen, Madeline, Maude, Melody, Portia, Seabright, Seraphina, Sienna, Verity
Men's Names
S+ John, William, Thomas
S - James, George, Joseph, Richard, Robert, Charles, Henry, Edward, Samuel
A - Benjamin, (Mother’s/Grandmother’s maiden name used as first name)#
B - Alexander^, Andrew, Daniel, David>, Edmund, Francis, Frederick, Isaac, Matthew, Michael, Patrick~, Peter, Philip, Stephen, Timothy
C - Abraham, Anthony, Christopher, Hugh>, Jeremiah, Jonathan, Nathaniel, Walter
D - Adam, Arthur, Bartholomew, Cornelius, Dennis, Evan>, Jacob, Job, Josiah, Joshua, Lawrence, Lewis, Luke, Mark, Martin, Moses, Nicholas, Owen>, Paul, Ralph, Simon
E - Aaron, Alfred, Allen, Ambrose, Amos, Archibald, Augustin, Augustus, Barnard, Barney, Bernard, Bryan, Caleb, Christian, Clement, Colin, Duncan^, Ebenezer, Edwin, Emanuel, Felix, Gabriel, Gerard, Gilbert, Giles, Griffith, Harry*, Herbert, Humphrey, Israel, Jabez, Jesse, Joel, Jonas, Lancelot, Matthias, Maurice, Miles, Oliver, Rees, Reuben, Roger, Rowland, Solomon, Theophilus, Valentine, Zachariah
F - (selected) Abel, Barnabus, Benedict, Connor, Elijah, Ernest, Gideon, Godfrey, Gregory, Hector, Horace, Horatio, Isaiah, Jasper, Levi, Marmaduke, Noah, Percival, Shadrach, Vincent
G - (selected) Albion, Darius, Christmas, Cleophas, Enoch, Ethelbert, Gavin, Griffin, Hercules, Hugo, Innocent, Justin, Maximilian, Methuselah, Peregrine, Phineas, Roland, Sebastian, Sylvester, Theodore, Titus, Zephaniah
H - Albinus, Americus, Cassian, Dominic, Eric, Milo, Rollo, Trevor, Tristan, Waldo, Xavier
# Men were sometimes given a family surname (most often their mother's or grandmother's maiden name) as their first name - the most famous example of this being Fitzwilliam Darcy. If you were to combine all surname-based first names as a single 'name' this is where the practice would rank.
*Rank as a given name, not a nickname
+If you count Mary Ann as a separate name from Mary - Mary would remain in S+ even without the Mary Anns included
~Primarily used by people of Irish descent
^Primarily used by people of Scottish descent
>Primarily used by people of Welsh descent
I was going to continue on and write about why Regency-era first names were so uniform, discuss historically accurate surnames, nicknames, and include a little guide to finding 'unique' names that are still historically accurate - but this post is already very, very long, so that will have to wait for a later date.
If anyone has any questions/comments/clarifications in the meantime feel free to message me.
Methodology notes: All data is from marriage records covering six parishes in the City of Westminster between 1804 and 1821. The total sample size was 50,950 individuals.
I chose marriage records rather than births/baptisms as I wanted to focus on individuals who were adults during the Regency era rather than newborns. I think many people make the mistake when researching historical names by using baby name data for the year their story takes place rather than 20 to 30 years prior, and I wanted to avoid that. If you are writing a story that takes place in 1930 you don’t want to research the top names for 1930, you need to be looking at 1910 or earlier if you are naming adult characters.
I combined (for my own sanity) names that are pronounced identically but have minor spelling differences: i.e. the data for Catherine also includes Catharines and Katherines, Susannah includes Susannas, Phoebe includes Phebes, etc.
The compound 'Mother's/Grandmother's maiden name used as first name' designation is an educated guesstimate based on what I recognized as known surnames, as I do not hate myself enough to go through 25,000+ individuals and confirm their mother's maiden names. So if the tally includes any individuals who just happened to be named Fitzroy/Hastings/Townsend/etc. because their parents liked the sound of it and not due to any familial relations - my bad.
I did a small comparative survey of 5,000 individuals in several rural communities in Rutland and Staffordshire (chosen because they had the cleanest data I could find and I was lazy) to see if there were any significant differences between urban and rural naming practices and found the results to be very similar. The most noticeable difference I observed was that the S+ tier names were even MORE popular in rural areas than in London. In Rutland between 1810 and 1820 Elizabeths comprised 21.4% of all brides vs. 15.3% in the London survey. All other S+ names also saw increases of between 1% and 6%. I also observed that the rural communities I surveyed saw a small, but noticeable and fairly consistent, increase in the use of names with Biblical origins.
Sources of the records I used for my survey: 
Ancestry.com. England & Wales Marriages, 1538-1988 [database on-line].
Ancestry.com. Westminster, London, England, Church of England Marriages and Banns, 1754-1935 [database on-line].
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pucksandpower · 7 months
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Fairytale
Charles Leclerc x Princess of Monaco!Reader
Summary: Charles Leclerc has everything he could ask for (off the track, at least) including a fairytale romance … except no one actually believes that his girlfriend is really his girlfriend
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Charles sighs as he walks into the drivers’ lounge, bracing himself for the inevitable teasing. Ever since he had casually mentioned having a girlfriend, and more specifically who the girlfriend in question is, his friends have been merciless.
“Wow, if it isn’t Prince Charles in the flesh! Back from another romantic getaway with his imaginary princess,” Max laughs as he enters.
“Come on mates, lay off,” Charles pleads half-heartedly. He knows it is useless.
“I just don’t get it,” Lando chimes in. “There’s no shame in admitting that you’re single. We’re racing drivers, we don’t exactly always have time for relationships.”
“Maybe his standards are too high,” Pierre suggests. “He’s actually holding out for real royalty or something.”
The others laugh as Charles feels his face grow warm. If only they believed him.
“You know what you need?” Carlos grins. “A nice Spanish girl to set you up with. My sister’s friend Elena is single, I could give you her number.”
Charles rolls his eyes. “I told you, I have a girlfriend. Why is that so hard to believe?”
“Because we’ve never seen her!” Max exclaims. “You talk about her all the time but she never comes to races or appears in photos. She might as well be a unicorn.”
“Maybe she’s just embarrassed to be seen with Charles,” Lando teases.
Charles frowns, stung by Lando’s words. If only they knew the truth. The reality is that his girlfriend is extremely famous in her own right and values the little privacy she has left too much to be seen at races. Her life is already public enough without adding the scrutiny that anyone connected to a Formula 1 driver inevitably receives on top of it. Besides, she has her own royal duties to attend to.
“Come on guys, that’s unfair,” Pierre says gently, noticing Charles’ discomfort. “If Charles says he has a girlfriend, we should believe him.”
“Thank yo—” Charles starts to say with relief. At least someone is on his side.
“Even if she is imaginary,” Pierre adds with a smirk.
Charles groans and puts his head in his hands as the laughter starts up again. He can’t really blame them for not believing him.
You are basically a fairytale princess — beautiful, elegant, and kind. Not to mention an actual member of the royal family. Her Serene Highness Princess Y/N Grace Stephanie Caroline of Monaco is the type of girl people write epic poems and songs about. Charles can hardly believe his luck that you had chosen him.
“Alright, that’s enough,” Daniel interrupts, taking pity on Charles. “Leave the poor man alone.”
“We’re just joking,” Max says defensively. “Charles knows we don’t mean anything by it.”
Charles gives Max a tight smile. “Sure.”
“Tell you what,” Daniel says, clapping Charles on the shoulder. “Bring your mystery girl to a race soon. We’ll all get to meet her and then you can finally prove these jokers wrong.”
Charles sighs. If only it were that simple. You have been tempted to attend races in the past but the scrutiny both of them would come under is just too much. You treasure the privacy your relationship allows. But maybe Daniel is right. Maybe it is time for you to finally meet his friends. After all, you are the love of his life. There is nothing to hide.
“Alright, deal,” Charles says finally. “I’ll ask her.”
The others exchange surprised looks, not expecting him to agree.
“Can’t wait to meet her,” Carlos says with a wink.
Charles rolls his eyes again but smiles. One way or another, he is going to prove to them that his amazing girlfriend isn’t just a figment of his imagination.
***
Charles is still thinking about you when he is suddenly accosted by Silvia, Ferrari’s Head of Communications, after practice.
“Charles! Just who I was looking for,” she says briskly. “I need to discuss something rather important with you.”
Charles suppresses a groan. Conversations with Silvia are never fun. “What’s up?” He asks with forced cheerfulness.
Silvia lowers her voice. “It’s about your relationship status. We feel it would be beneficial if you were seen dating someone … compatible.”
Charles’ eyebrows shoot up. “Compatible?”
“Yes. A model. Or perhaps an actress. Someone who would look good on your arm and boost your image.”
Charles folds his arms defensively. “What’s wrong with my girlfriend?”
Silvia waves a hand impatiently. “Yes yes, this alleged princess you keep mentioning. The problem, Charles, is that no one has seen her. No one knows if she is actually connected to you in any way. So, as far as we are concerned, for all intents and purposes, you are single.”
Charles frowns. This again. “I keep telling you that she’s really my girlfriend. Y/N is just very private.”
“Private women don’t date Formula 1 drivers,” Silvia says bluntly. “If she really was in a relationship with you, she would be here. But since that is clearly a figment of your imagination, we need to take steps.”
Charles feels his blood boil. How dare Silvia insult his relationship with Y/N? Question their connection?
“Here are profiles of suitable options,” Silvia continues, shoving a surprisingly heavy folder at him. Charles doesn’t open it.
“No.”
Silvia blinks. “No?”
“My relationship with Y/N is off limits,” Charles says firmly. “My personal life is exactly that — personal. Not to be exploited for PR.”
“Don’t be foolish,” Silvia snaps. “This is bigger than you. Your image reflects on Ferrari. We need to be able to control it.”
“No. What you need to do is back off,” Charles shoots back.
Silvia’s nostrils flare. Clearly she isn’t used to such defiance. “Charles, be reasonable—”
“I am being reasonable,” Charles interrupts. “I won’t pretend to date someone just because the team wants me to. I’m with Y/N. I don’t care if you believe me or not.”
Silvia shakes her head in disgust. “You’re making a big mistake. Don’t come crying to me when this blows up in your face.”
She storms off, heels clicking angrily against the floor.
Charles takes a deep breath, adrenaline pumping through his veins. He can’t remember the last time he stood up to Silvia like that. It felt good but also nerve-wracking. He knows she won’t let this go easily.
His phone buzzes and his heart leaps when he sees it’s a text from you.
Heard you had a rough day. Wish I could be there to make it better. I love you 💋
Charles smiles, the tension in his shoulders easing. You always knew just what to say and when to say it.
He quickly types back.
I wish you were here too. No matter what anyone says, they can’t change my feelings for you. I love you so much ❤️
He hits send, imagining your smile as you read his text. It doesn’t matter what his team, the media, or even his fellow drivers think. His relationship with you is real and authentic. Someday he’ll find a way for you to be by his side. But for now, your private moments together are enough.
Charles knows staying with you is the right decision, PR be damned. You are his soulmate — the fairytale princess he never expected to find but thanks God every single day that he did. Your love is worth fighting for. And someday, when the time is right, he’ll finally be able to show the world that what you have together is very real.
***
Charles groans as he notices multiple missed calls from his brothers. He has been avoiding their calls lately, knowing they would just tease him mercilessly about his girlfriend. But he knows he can’t dodge them forever.
Taking a deep breath, he calls Arthur back.
“Well, well, well, if it isn’t Prince Charles himself, taking time away from his busy schedule of dating princesses to spare a chat with us commoners,” Arthur says slyly upon answering.
Charles rolls his eyes. “Very funny. What do you want?”
“We just wanted to check in on our brother and see how life with Monegasque royalty is treating you,” Lorenzo chimes in. Charles realizes he must be on speaker.
“Oh yes, Princess Y/N,” Arthur says in an exaggerated swoony voice. “Our brother’s one true love since he was 15 years old and had that giant poster of her plastered on his wall.”
Charles feels his face flush. He knows exactly what poster Arthur is referencing — a stunning photo of you in a ballgown from a high society event years ago. Teenage Charles has ripped it out of a magazine and hung it up reverently in his room, gazing at it longingly.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” he sputters. “I never had a poster.”
“Oh really?” Lorenzo laughs. “I seem to recall you cutting out every picture you could find of her and keeping a little scrapbook.”
Charles cringes internally. Okay, maybe his teenage obsession had been a bit … enthusiastic. But he can’t help that he had recognized you as his dream girl even then.
“Alright, so maybe I had a tiny crush on her,” Charles admits. “But it is not crazy that we ended up together.”
Arthur cackles. “You used to kiss her photos goodnight before going to bed! You were completely obsessed!”
“Remember how he tried to sneak into that royal gala at Salle des Etoiles to see her?” Lorenzo adds. “He was totally insane.”
Charles grimaces at the memory. Okay, not his finest moment.
“Face it Charles, you’ve been in love with the imaginary idea of Princess Y/N since you were in nappies,” Arthur teases. “No shame in admitting she wouldn't even give you the time of day now.”
Charles feels his frustration rising. Why does no one believe him?
“Because your so-called relationship makes no sense!” Lorenzo says, accurately reading his silence. “She’s a literal princess and you’re … you.”
“Gee, thanks,” Charles grumbles. He knows his brothers are just teasing but it still stings.
“Come on, just admit you made the whole thing up to get everyone off your back,” Arthur prods.
Charles sighs loudly. “For the millionth time, what we have is 100 percent real! Just because it seems unlikely doesn’t mean it didn’t happen. I don’t care if none of you believe me, I love her and she loves me.”
His brothers are silent for a moment.
“You alright there?” Arthur asks, his voice softening.
“Yes, I just wish everyone would stop questioning my relationship all the time,” Charles admits. “It hurts.”
“We’re only joking Charles, we don’t mean any harm,” Lorenzo says gently.
“I know,” Charles replies. “Doesn’t make it any easier to hear constantly though.”
“You’re right, we took the teasing too far,” Arthur says. “We’ll lay off from now on.”
Charles smiles slightly. “Thanks. And someday soon I will prove to you that it is real.”
His brothers are silent for a moment.
“Keep telling yourself that,” Arthur finally laughs.
Charles groans and runs a hand through his hair in frustration. Clearly nothing he says would convince his stubborn brothers that his relationship with you was real and not merely a childhood fantasy.
“Alright, well, I should get going,” Charles mumbles, eager to get off the phone.
“Chin up, we’re only teasing,” Lorenzo says lightly. “Have fun with your imaginary princess!”
Arthur and Lorenzo explode into more laughter as Charles quickly hangs up, his face burning. Someday, he will prove to them and everyone else that his amazing girlfriend isn’t just a figment of his imagination. No matter how long it takes.
***
Charles sinks into the familiar couch in his sports psychologist’s office, exhausted after a long day on the simulator and endless teasing from his team.
“Rough day out there?” Dr. Anderson asks kindly, noticing the strain on Charles’ face.
“That’s an understatement,” Charles sighs. “The car is just so slow this year. We keep trying new setups and tweaks but nothing helps. And the strategy is somehow even worse than the pace. It’s like the team wants me to fail.”
Dr. Anderson nods sympathetically. “That must be very frustrating. Tell me more about how it’s impacting you.”
Charles launches into a tirade about the endless issues with the car, the incompetent strategists, and the lack of proper communication from his engineers. Dr. Anderson listens patiently, letting him vent his pent-up anger and disappointment.
After a lengthy rant, Charles finally runs out of steam. “Anyway, it’s just been a terrible season,” he concludes glumly.
“I can certainly understand why you feel that way,” Dr. Anderson says. “It sounds like the team is letting you down in many ways.”
Charles nods, feeling some of the tension leave his shoulders after unloading. It helps to talk about it with someone whose job is not to judge.
“Is there anything else bothering you lately?” Dr. Anderson asks gently. “Any other sources of stress?”
Charles hesitates. He and Dr. Anderson have been working together for years, ever since he joined Ferrari. He knows he can open up to her.
“It’s just … well, besides the team stuff, no one believes me about my girlfriend,” he admits.
Dr. Anderson raises her eyebrows. “I see. Tell me more about that.”
Charles explains the endless teasing from his fellow drivers, the manipulation attempts by the PR team, and the doubtful reactions from his own family. How despite his best efforts, no one seems willing to accept that he is really dating Princess Y/N of Monaco.
“It’s so frustrating!" He bursts out at the end. “I don’t know what else I can do to convince them that we are actually together.”
Dr. Anderson purses her lips, jotting down notes. “I can understand why their doubt would upset you. It must be painful to have your relationship questioned.”
“Exactly!" Charles exclaims, throwing his hands up. “You get it. I knew I could talk to you.”
Dr. Anderson gives him a sympathetic smile.
Charles leaves the appointment feeling much better, confident that his psychologist believes him and is on his side.
As he is exiting, Charles notices Dr. Anderson’s notebook left open on her desk. Before he can stop himself, his eyes scan the page and focus on his name.
He feels his heart sink as he reads.
Charles Leclerc: deflecting from pain of difficult season by creating elaborate fantasy relationship. Fixation on celebrity crush indicates deeper self-esteem issues. Recommend to confront delusion directly in next session.
Charles reels, shock and anger swirling through him. Not even his own psychologist believes him! She thinks he is living in some weird fantasy.
Swallowing the bitter taste in his mouth, Charles straightens his shoulders and walks out. He has never felt more alone and frustrated in his conviction. But he refuses to give up. No matter what anyone says, his love for you is real. And one day, somehow, he will prove it to the world.
***
Charles is back at his family home in Monaco during a rare few days off. He is puttering around the kitchen while his mother cooks dinner.
“Oh, by the way, Y/N is coming over for dinner tonight,” Charles mentions casually. “I want you all to finally meet her.”
Pascale laughs lightly without looking up from the stove. “Of course, sweetie.”
Charles frowns. “I’m serious, maman. She’ll be here in an hour.”
“Mhmm, I’m sure she will,” Pascale replies indulgently. Charles huffs in annoyance.
Just then, his brothers come into the kitchen, freshly showered after playing football outside.
“Hey Charles, how’s life with your imaginary girlfriend?” Lorenzo immediately teases.
“She’s actually coming over for dinner tonight,” Charles says tersely.
Arthur lets out a loud laugh. “Yeah right! Good one.” He grabs a piece of bread from the counter, still chuckling.
Charles throws his hands up in exasperation. “Why does no one ever believe me about her?”
“Boys, that’s enough,” Pascale chides gently. “Let your brother dream.”
Charles opens his mouth to retort but just then, the doorbell rings. His eyes widen.
“I’ll get it!" He yells, dashing for the door. He takes a deep breath before swinging it open to reveal you standing there casually in jeans and a sweater, looking effortlessly gorgeous.
“Surprise!" You laugh, pulling him into a tight hug. Charles melts into your embrace, all his stress and frustration fading away.
“You have no idea how happy I am to see you right now,” he murmurs into your hair.
You pull back to smile at him tenderly. “I’ve been looking forward to this for ages. I want your family to know how much I love you.”
Charles grins and takes your hand, leading your into the kitchen where his stunned family waits.
Pascale’s mouth is hanging open in shock. The piece of bread Arthur is holding falls to the floor with a dull thump.
“Y-your Serene Highness,” Pascale finally manages to stammer out, hastily wiping her hands on a towel. “What an honor, we weren’t expecting you ...”
She shoots an accusatory look at Charles, who throws up his hands defensively. “I told you she was coming!”
Pascale flushes. “Yes, well, I didn’t think … that is … we would have prepared ...”
You step forward gracefully, immediately putting Pascale at ease. “Please, just call me Y/N. I’ve been dying to meet Charles’ family.”
As you effortlessly charm his mother and brothers, Charles stands back watching with a satisfied smile. The shock and sheepishness on his family’s faces is vindicating after so many months of teasing and disbelief.
Charles has never been one to say “I told you so” but … I told you so.
***
The cheers of the crowd are deafening as the chequered flag waves for Charles at the Monaco Grand Prix. He can hardly believe it — finally, a win at his home race!
As he pulls into parc fermé and jumps out of the car, the emotions hit him. Pure elation at ending the long wait for a home victory. Relief at overcoming the team’s doubts. But most of all, excitement for what comes next.
The podium ceremony.
And with the Monegasque royal family presenting the trophies as usual, Charles knows exactly who will be handing him the winner’s trophy.
He can barely stand still through the anthems, eager for his moment with you. The weekend has been agony, so close to you yet having to pretend that there is nothing between the two of you.
But not anymore.
At last, the royal family walks onto the podium led by none other than Princess Y/N. Charles’ heart skips a beat at the sight of you gliding towards him in a figure-hugging red midi dress, sunlight glinting off your carefully styled hair. You somehow manage to become more and more beautiful every time he sees you.
Stopping in front of him, you give him a subtle wink before launching into the customary congratulatory speech. Charles nods along, not hearing a word as he zones out while admiring the stunning woman he gets to call his own.
At last, you turn to pick up the trophy. “It is my honor to present this trophy to our victor, who represents Monaco with pride in everything he does, Charles Leclerc,” you announce, holding it out to him with a brilliant smile.
In that moment, Charles throws all caution to the wind. As he accepts the trophy, he reaches out and pulls you into a passionate kiss.
The crowd below erupts in shocked cheers and screams. You melt into the kiss for a blissful moment before gently pulling back, your eyes sparkling. Charles grins at you breathlessly.
“Worth the wait?” He murmurs.
“Absolutely,” you whisper back, squeezing his hand. “I’m so proud of you, mon amour.”
Turning back to the roaring crowd, Charles wraps an arm around your waist and thrusts your linked hands into the air in triumph.
Looking out at the paddock, Charles sees the priceless dumbfounded looks on his fellow drivers’ faces. The Ferrari PR team looks ready to pass out in horror. Reporters are screaming questions and snapping photos frantically.
But Charles only has eyes for the radiant princess at his side. At long last, he has made your love public for the whole world to see.
Later, after celebrations around the circuit have started winding down in favor of moving to lounges and clubs for the night, Charles and you escape for a private moment together.
“That was quite the reveal,” you say with an amused quirk of your eyebrow.
Charles laughs. “I know, subtlety has never been my strong suit. I hope you don’t mind.”
You caress his face tenderly. “Of course not. I’m happy to finally be by your side. No more hiding.”
Charles kisses you deeply, all the love and longing of the past months pouring into it.
When you finally break apart, foreheads touching, he murmurs, “No more doubts. No more teasing. They all know now that you’re real and all mine.”
“Forever yours,” you whisper back. And seal it with another perfect kiss.
***
“I can’t believe it. I just … actually can’t believe it,” Max mutters, staring at the large screens around the paddock that are showing you and Charles gazing adoringly into each other’s eyes during the post-race interviews.
“Lord Perceval … dating an actual princess,” Carlos muses in disbelief.
“And not just any princess, his teenage celebrity crush!" Lando exclaims.
“I guess we owe him an apology,” Pierre says sheepishly.
“Big time,” Daniel agrees. “We gave him so much crap for making her up.”
“Speak of the devil,” Max mutters as Charles strides into the room, hand-in-hand with you.
An awkward silence descends on the group. Charles clears his throat, enjoying their obvious discomfort.
“I believe you all know my girlfriend, Her Serene Highness Y/N Grace Stephanie Caroline, Hereditary Princess of Monaco and Marquise of Baux. But you can just call her Your Serene Highness or Princess Y/N,” he says politely.
The guys mumble greetings, not quite meeting your eyes. You smile graciously. “You can just call me Y/N. Any friend of Charles is a friend of mine and there’s no need for titles around friends.”
Charles narrows his eyes. “Actually I don’t think that will be necessary. I believe they should maintain protocol and address you properly.”
You shoots him a look. “Darling, it’s fine, really. I want your friends to feel comfortable around me.”
But Charles crosses his arms, not budging. “No, it’s not fine. I must insist that they observe the formal mode of address for royalty.”
The drivers shift awkwardly again. You pull Charles aside with a soothing smile.
“What are you doing?” You whisper. “I’m trying to put them at ease.”
“I know but they deserve to squirm for a bit after how much they mocked us,” Charles whispers back petulantly.
You bite back a smile. “Don’t be silly. I know their teasing hurt but let’s move past it. Can you really blame them for thinking it sounds like a made up fairytale? Put yourself in their shoes.”
Charles sighs. “I guess you’re right ... I just want them to respect you.”
“They will, in time,” you say gently. “But forcing them to be overly formal won’t accomplish that. I’m still just me.”
Charles nods reluctantly. “Okay fine, we’ll do it your way.”
You turn back to the drivers who are trying to act natural and pretending that they didn’t just listen in on your conversation with a bright smile. “I’ve heard so much about all of you,” you say. “Charles speaks very highly of his fellow drivers.”
“We’re, uh, happy to finally meet you too,” Max manages to get out.
“Yeah, congrats mate,” Daniel offers weakly.
More awkward silence follows. Charles smirks, deciding to twist the knife a bit more.
“I know you all had your doubts about me landing a catch like Y/N,” he says casually. “But I can’t blame you. Even I can hardly believe someone so incredible would fall for me.”
He gazes at you adoringly as you blush prettily while the drivers fidget uneasily.
“Anyway, as you can now see, she’s real and we are happier than ever!" Charles concludes brightly.
“We’re really sorry for not believing you,” Lando bursts out sincerely. “And all the teasing.”
The others chime in with apologies and congratulations. Charles graciously accepts, reassuring them no hard feelings.
After you have throughly charmed them all and departed, the group surrounds Charles excitedly.
“Alright, you have to give us all the details,” Max demands. “How did you meet? How did you get her to go out with you? When did it get serious?”
Charles just laughs. “It’s a long story. But the important thing is that she’s the only one for me. Despite everyone doubting us, our love was real from the start.”
“Pretty epic to have a real life princess as your soulmate,” Pierre says dreamily.
“Just remember you knew me back when you all thought she was imaginary,” Charles jokes.
“We’ll never live it down,” Carlos groans goodnaturedly.
Charles smiles, feeling lighter and happier than he has in ages. The long struggle to prove himself has been worth it. Now he has everything — the win, the girl, and the utter shock and joy of proving to the world that even his wildest dreams can come true.
And this is only the beginning for him and his beloved princess.
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rafescurtainbangz · 5 months
Text
Professor Cameron - Rafe Cameron One Shot +18
Minor DNI
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Based off a prompt by @geniousbh :
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Rafe x female reader (No use of Y/N)
Warnings: smut & language
Fingering, oral (female receiving), unprotected p in v, pet names, squirting, overstimulation, breeding kink, praise kink, ownership kink, creampie, cum play, older Rafe
Lightly edited
3.1K
Taglist ♡ @imyourdaninow
Enjoy! 💕✨
"I'm so close to a C," you grumble, eyes rolling as you hold yet another Econ test between your fingers; D+ scrolled in blood-red ink. "Another fuckin' D."
"A D+, actually," your friend teases, tapping the top.
"Well, would you look at that?" You sass, readjusting yourself from your slumped state, eyes drifting ahead, matching Professor Cameron's. He represses a smile, running his palm against his lips.
"Do they do extra credit in college?" You whine, leaning into your friend, resting your head on her shoulder as you continue to sulk.
"Professor C? No fuckin' way; the guy's a hard ass."
"I don't think that's true," You look his way again, just missing his eyes. "He looks sweet," you whisper.
"He's hot as fuck," she adds, making your cheeks flush pink. "Is he married? I don't see a ring." She studies him a little further, trying to get a better look.
"Why does it matter?" You ask, narrowing your gaze on him.
"Meh. It doesn't, but it makes it easier. You said you wanted extra credit, sunshine." She wiggles her eyebrows, elbowing you playfully.
"Just tell me what you're getting at," you huff. "Class is almost over, and I need to figure this shit out."
"Jesus Christ, babe. You want extra credit. He's not married. And he already looks at you like he wants to devour you."
"Eat me?"
"If that's what you're into, or you could suck him off, I suppose," she giggles as you let out a little gasp. "Ugh... Stop clutching your pearls. If he was lookin' at me like that, he'd be blowin' my back out every day of the week."
"So, you really think he likes me?" Your teeth sink into your bottom lip as you turn in his direction. He's not looking at me...
"Just give it a second," your friend breathes.
Professor Cameron thumbs through the remaining stack of tests, handing another small pile to his teacher's assistant before snagging his school bag and coffee cup. Your stomach floods with butterflies as he matches your gaze, walking toward the lecture hall steps.
"Just fucking do it," she groans. "Even if you don't get the extra credit, at least you'll get somethin' out of it."
"Something?"
"Dick... Seriously. What the fuck, girl?" 
"Stop bein' mean," you whine. 'What if he doesn't want me?"
"Sure," she laughs.
********
You walk down the hallway, heading toward the faculty offices. Wandering slowly as you skim the name plaques, searching for his.
Professor Rafe Cameron
Rafe? You bite back a nervous smile. I've never met a "Rafe" before. You lift your fist, giving the door a soft knock.
"Come in," he calls from behind it. You twist the handle; Rafe's blue eye expands slightly, along with his smile. It quickly fades. Maybe he doesn't want me here. Maybe I need to go.
"I'm sorry. I... Well, I didn't make an appointment," you babble, twirling your hair nervously.
"No - No. It's alright," he assures, the corners of his lips curling as he says the words. "Take a seat. Please." He gestures to the leather chair across from his large desk. You walk over taking a seat, smoothing your little skirt before matching his eyes. He addresses you by Miss, surprising you when he uses your last name, falling from his lips with ease. You're taken aback, frazzled at the moment that he knows you by name, out of a lecture hall full of students.
I'm clearly not an exceptional student. There are students with perfect scores in my class. Maybe he's just thoughtful. Maybe he remembers everyone's names.
"Are you alright?" He asks as he leans back in his chair slightly, adjusting in his seat.
"Umm... Just a little nervous," you let out a flighty laugh as he gives you his full attention.
"I don't bite," he smiles, crossing his arm across his broad chest. You watch as his linen shirt stretches across his strong arms. You study him a little more, taking in his features. You've never gotten to see him this close: perfectly quaffed locks, just the right amount of stubble on his chiseled jaw. He's loosened his tie since you saw him last, Rafe's top button drawn open as well, a peek of a gold chain matching his ring-adorned fingers. He guides your attention back to his eyes, using your first name this time, making your heart race.
"So, is there anything I can help you with?" He asks you again with a softer tone, just trying to pull any sort of answer out of you.
"Sorry... Umm. I'm not doing very well in your class. I just - I'm not used to doing so poorly." His eyes soften on yours as you continue to spin your sob story. "I seem to do well on my papers, but, I do really bad on my tests."
His lips tug to the side, brows knitting tight. "Well, that's because I grade your papers," he hums as he turns his swivel chair toward his computer, pulling up the gradebook. "My T.A. is on a little bit of a power trip this semester. And it does not help that you're stunning. Think someone's a little jealous," he chuckles. You feel heat spread across your cheeks as you take in his compliment. "We'll see if we can work something out."
Professor Cameron matches your smile, lingering a little while before returning to his screen. "Alright..." He takes a deep breath, squinting slightly before taking out some black glasses. "Let's see what we're workin' with." He scans the numbers, writing down a few things on a little Post-It note. "So it looks like lesson 5, 6, and 8 tests were all D's." You nod your head in acknowledgment. "Well, you can retake these if you'd like. And, I can regrade them for you; skip the middleman."
"Really?" You bubble.
"'Course," he breathes. "There's no reason those tests should be that low given what you know. I'm very impressed with your written work."
"Yeah?" You expel a sigh of relief.
"Yeah... I would bet that you could finish the course with at least a B."
"Wow, Professor Cameron. Thank you so much. At least... So, I could maybe get an A?" You smile, sweetening your tone, just playing around, doing your best to lighten the mood.
"Maybe," he chuckles, relaxing back in his chair. "I don't see why not. And we can always talk about extra credit if you'd like."
"Extra credit? That would be really nice, Professor Cameron." Your eyes fall to his thigh; two thick fingers moving ever so slightly, tracing the sleek black material, making your mind wander as you think about what he could do with his hands, if he was rough or gentle. He looks like he'd be rough.
"Yeah, extra credit," he hums; you follow his gaze, eyes lost in your cleavage, hidden slightly by your oversized jean jacket.
"What can I do for you, Professor Cameron," the words leave your lips before you can think them through. "F-For extra credit, that is," you recover quickly your cheeks shifting from a pretty blush to a deep red hue.
He fights off a smile, rapping his ringed finger against the wood desk a few times."Whatever you're comfortable with," he breathes. Rafe raises his hand, brushing away his smile just as he did in the classroom. This time, more of a smirk.
Whatever I'm comfortable with... He wants me to? Maybe?
Grabbing your jean jacket, you pull it off your shoulders, exposing your pink top, black lace peeking out."I'll do whatever it takes to get an "A," Professor Cameron."
"You will, now?" he sighs, sinking in his seat slightly, widening his thighs, making himself a little more comfortable. "You sure about that?"
"Mhmm," you breathe as you lean in closer, giving him a better view of your breasts. He lets out a sinful laugh, loosening his tie a little more than before, his icy blue eyes darkening along with yours.
"And, you'd do anything it takes to get that "A." Huh?" He mumbles as you work the satin straps over your shoulders, letting it fall around your waist.
"Anything."
"Shit," he draws out the word, snatching his glasses off his face before rising in his seat. He's tall, far taller from this angle, towering over you as he walks around the desk, designer dress shoes shuffling along the floor.
"Are you married, Professor Cameron?"
"Nah... I'm not. I'm single. And, you can call me Rafe if you'd like," he rasps, pawing his tie the rest of the way off. "Are you single? Anyone taking care of you."
"Just me," you whisper, your innocent eyes set on his.
"Just me. Huh?" He echoes. You nod as he grips the armrests of your swivel chair, towing you closer. "These boys not cuttin' it for you, princess?" You shake your head 'no'. You can see the print of Rafe's long, thick cock; pressing against his slacks. "I'm gonna take care of you." He takes hold of your chin with a heavy hand.
"Okay, Ra-" He steals your words, claiming your lips against his. Rafe catches your moan in his mouth, answering with his own. You let out a little gasp as he lifts you to your feet, bringing you closer. The two of you work on what little clothing remains between sloppy kisses, tearing it off each other's bodies until all that's left are his black boxer briefs.
Rafe groans as his rough fingers glide down your smooth skin, tracing the small of your waist, massaging and pressing your breasts together as his eyes roll back. He lifts you effortlessly, taking you into his strong arms. You hold on tight as Rafe swipes his palm across the desk, making the items tumble to the floor. He lays you on top, lips barely losing contact, kissing you roughly.
Your hands drift down his chest, journeying lower and lower. You rake your hands back up, feeling his muscles, resting on his chest, feeling his heart pound underneath. You dig your nails into his skin, making him hiss out a breath.
You feel the chill of his rings against your hot skin as he squeezes your tits, shoving them together. "Jesus fuck, baby girl," he mutters, locking down on your nipple, swirling and flicking, leaving you a whimpering mess. "You look good... So fuckin' good," he groans, running two thick fingers between your thighs, skimming your slit. "How are you so wet?" He growls.
You take in his scent, rich and delicious, amplified by the warmth of his bare skin. You reach for him desperately, pulling him to your lips as he rocks into you, thrusting languidly, stroking your aching pussy with his clothed cock. His gold chain sways, with each roll of his hips brushing against your cleavage.
"Please," you whimper, desperate for more.
"Want me to eat your pussy, angel? Hmm? Bend you over my desk?"
"Yes, Rafe. Fuck," you whimper.
He lowers himself between your legs, looping his arms under your thighs, pulling you toward his face. Rafe spreads your legs, kissing you deeply, marking you in a way that'll surely leave a bruise, teasing you as his digits slip closer. You take a grip on his sandy-blonde hair, pulling him nearer as you buck your hips, craving more friction between the two of you. Rafe breathes warmly against your clit, making you melt into the table.
"Rafe-" You beg, your words turning into a breathy cry as he plunges his tongue deeply, drawing out slowly, licking a line to your clit that has your body quaking. He sucks your bud, releasing you with a pop. Doing it again and again, leaving your thighs trembling uncontrollably. He brushes his tongue side to side on your clit, making your vision blur.
Rafe slings your legs over his broad shoulders, working deeper than before. You grip the edge of the desk; teeth clenched, muscles firing hot as you hold back your cries of pleasure. "Cum for me..." He grunts, driving his fingers into you as you nod rapidly.
"Y-Yeah," you shudder, chasing your climax as he pounds into your dripping cunt.
"Do it." Rafe curls his fingers inside of you, tension snapping as you moan his name. "Fuck... Say it again. Say my name again," he groans, looking down at you in a drunken haze as he works you through your orgasm.
"Rafe," you breathe. He slips between your legs, cleaning the mess he made with his tongue.
This - This is a man. Sure, I've been with plenty of boys, but this is divine. I can tell that he knows what he's doing: how to kiss, how to touch a woman. I need him. All of him.
"Tastes so fuckin' good," he mumbles. "Anything?" He asks again as he tugs at the elastic of his boxers.
"Anything," you mewl.
"Need to be inside you," he mutters as he pulls his boxers off his body. "You want that. Don't you?"
"Yes."
He gives you a few experimental thrusts, watching you jolt in your sensitivity every time his rock-hard cock nudges your clit. You look at the slight space between the two of you, letting out a desperate moan, yearning to be filled. Rafe's long, thick dick curved toward his stomach, glistening with precum, smudging against his tight stomach with each rut.
"Fuck me," you plead.
You let out a gasp as he stuffs his cock in your pussy; hips flush with your ass, balls deep; pushing even further. "R-Rafe..." You whimper, tears running down your cheeks as you feel the pressure in your guts. 
"Goddamn..." He grunts. "You're so fuckin' tight. Shit - Pussy feels so good."
"You're so big," you whimper as you press your hand against your tummy.
"You okay? Takin' me so well..."
"Yeah. M'fine. Feels so fucking good."
"Been hopin' you'd walk in my office since the first day I saw you." He brushes your tears away with his thumbs as he kisses your lips, dick buried deep. "Who woulda thought you be such a slut for your professor. Huh?"
BANG. BANG.
"Hey, Rafe. Are you free?" His colleague yells from outside the door, causing the two of you to freeze. Rafe snares your hips, holding you in place. He draws a finger to his lips, demanding your silence.
"Wanted to see if you could look over something for me."
Rafe grinds his hips slowly, not wanting to stop, cupping your breast in his hand. He leans down, giving you a soft bite, eyes focused on yours.
"Rafe?" The male tries again, making Rafe roll his eyes in annoyance. You watch as the shadow shifts underneath the door, walking away.
"Fuck, that was close," he breathes, kissing his way up your stomach. "Come over tonight?"
"You want me to come over to your house?" You whisper as you smile against his lips.
"Need to fuck you in a bed. Want you to ride me. You want that "A." Yeah?" He asks, his voice deep and dark.
"Yes, Professor Cameron," you smile as you flutter your lashes, your angelic tone contrasting his wicked one entirely.
"You're a pretty little thing. Fuck. You're gorgeous," he praises as his swollen tip presses against your entrance, stretching you slightly, making your lips part in a soft "o." He groans as he nudges himself a little further, rocking into you nice and slow, teasing you with the first few inches and his fat cockhead.
"Rafe... Pl-" Your plea turns into a gasp as he pushes himself inside, bottoming you out completely. Your back arches off the desk, nipples grazing his chest.
Rafe thrusts at a rapid pace, skin striking skin. Knocking you deep in your core. "Such a good girl f'me," he grunts, punctuating each word with a rough thrust leaving you trembling.
You let out a moan that has him rushing to silence you, sealing your mouth with his broad palm, each muffled sound more fucked out than the last.
"You're killin' me," he mutters against your neck. "Gonna let you be real loud tonight. Alright? Gotta big fuckin' house. You can scream as loud as you want." His hand works between your thighs, brushing quickly against your clit; making you dig your nails into his shoulder blades."If I move my hand, are you gonna be a good little whore? Keep that mouth nice and quiet, f'me?"
"Yeah-"
"If you can't, I can stuff it full for you. Keep you real fuckin' quiet."
"N-No. Wanna cum... Fuck, I'm gonna-" His focus falls to the sound of your body gushing, squirting onto his cock and thighs as he continues to pound you into the wooden desk.
Your body clutches him, muscles pulsing. "That's it, baby. Fuckin' squeeze me." He looks down at you with half-lidded eyes, trying his best to thrust. Rafe doesn't give you orders, simply forcing you right where he wants you. Gripping your hips, turning you a moment later, lifting your ass in the air as you take a hold of the desk. You look over your shoulder, watching as he winds up to smack your ass. Stopping himself with a smirk and a raspy laugh. "I'm gonna ruin you tonight." His voice sends chills down your spine. Rafe grips your skin tightly, bunching it up in his hand as he coaxes his dick back in.
He ruts his hips deeply, fingertips driving into the fat of your ass as his hips clap against your skin. "Rafe," you blubber, trying your best to steady yourself on whatever you can grab. You can feel his tip kiss your G-spot with each stroke, working incredibly deep.
"Almost there... Want you to cum with me," he groans.
"Let me cum. I can't-"
"You will..."
"Please-"
"M'gonna cum, baby," he grunts, hand weaving into your hair. He yanks it back, pulling your orgasm out with it, blanketing your mouth as he silences your cries. You flutter wildly around his cock as he fills you to the brim with his climax. Rafe draws out slowly, letting your releases drip from your cunt; rolling down your inner thigh. He grips his cock in his fist, collecting your shared release, swirling his tip around your entrance before stuffing it deep inside again.
"Goddamn," he mumbles. Swiveling his hips slowly, jagged breaths are heard as he continues to move, completely overstimulated but loving the feeling too much to quit. "Mmm... You're gonna ride me tonight. Bounce on me; tits in fuckin' face. This wet fuckin' pussy is mine..." He moans, already desperate for more, as he palms your soft skin.
You reach for air, doing your best to catch your breath, riding a euphoric high. "Shit... Did I get an A, Professor Cameron?" You laugh breathily.
"A" fuckin' plus, princess."
Part 2 in my masterlist 🩷
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sadprose-auroras · 8 months
Text
On Top – Hazel Callahan x reader
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Hi! I have been able to think of literally nothing else but this character, so I simply had to. Shoutout to all the incredible writers who have been doing the lord’s work writing for Hazel already, you’re all amazing <3 I just had to add my little contribution.
Content: mild violence, sexual themes and making out, cursing, out of practise writing, no use of y/n.
Summary: Cheerleader!reader and Hazel have the hots for each other. Other stuff contextualises that, but it’s not as interesting. That’s about it. Please let me know if you enjoy! Word count: 4.4k
You first heard about the club when PJ and Josie approached you in the hallway as you were searching desperately for a book in your locker.
“Where is it?” you mumbled to yourself, when the pair came up behind you suddenly.
“Hey!”
You yelped in surprise, whipping around.
“Oh, hi. PJ. Josie.” You smiled. You weren’t particularly close with the two best friends, but you were friendly. Josie, more so. It wasn’t hard to be a little annoyed when you saw PJ treat Hazel the way she did. Okay, so maybe it infuriated you. Sure, your immense crush on Hazel might have had something to do with it, but nobody deserved to be tossed aside carelessly like that.
“What’s up? Um, we have a proposition for you,” Josie said. You frowned.
“Okay, what is it?” You were suddenly a little nervous.
“We think there is a serious lack of female solidarity at this school,” said PJ.
“Agreed,” you nodded. And you really did.
“So we’ve started this women’s, uh, like, um, solidarity club, to help us, y’know, come together, beat the patriarchy, learn to defend ourselves, it’s in the gym after school if you feel like coming along?” PJ asked.
“That actually sounds great.” You were excited. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t slightly terrified of everything that was going on.
“Really? Great! And we were thinking that maybe you could bring along, y’know, some of your friends? Like- oh gosh, for example, Brittany and Isabel? Or-or- any of your, y’know fellow cheerleaders.”
You suppressed a smile. They were so not obvious. But you were down. Although you were considered fairly popular being a cheerleader, you were keen to hang out with some other girls. It felt like nobody truly understood you.
“I make no promises about Brittany and Isabel but I’ll ask! I’ll see you guys then,” you smiled, closing your locker. The bell rang, and you said your goodbyes as you headed off to class. You gave up on finding your book. Classes were weirdly short at your school, anyway.
------------------------------------------------------------
It didn’t take much convincing to get your friends to join you. Isabel was immediately excited about the club, and Brittany, bless her soul, followed Isabel anywhere she went. Your shoes awkwardly squeaked on the gym floor as the three of you walked in and approached the group. All eyes turned to the three of you, some sitting, some standing, and a silence fell among everyone. You cleared your throat, speaking up first.
“Hey, this is the women’s solidarity club, right? We want to join.”
To your surprise, Hazel was the first to bound over and smile. Your heartbeat rapidly increased and your cheeks warmed, so you quickly looked down, avoiding eye contact.
“Hey you guys, come on in! We were just about to start-“
“Trust exercises.” Josie interrupted.
“Wrestling- wrestling each other.” PJ said at the same time, her eyes locked on Brittany. “It’s a fight club, actually.” You frowned. Surely if you were going to start a club, you’d have a clear picture of what it was going to be first? They seemed to have no idea what they were doing.
Your friend seemed completely ignorant, or at the least unphased by PJ’s crush on her. Hazel cleared her throat, and you felt a surge of sympathy for the girl. Not that you would ever tell her that. You could barely look at her without melting into a puddle. Her big, dreamy eyes that you could pretty much drown in. Her smooth-as-honey voice. Her radiant smile. The way she was so sweet to everyone, even if they didn’t deserve it. How she was simultaneously so sure of herself, seemingly so confident. Her floppy hair that was always getting in her eyes, and just looked so soft that you always wanted to just reach out and-
Oh shit. You were definitely staring now. You looked away quickly, heart racing.
“We’re not supposed to talk about th-“ Josie mumbled to PJ. “It’s a self defence club,” she explained to the group. “Come on,” she gestured, and you all gathered in a circle, sitting down. Hazel sat next to you, and you had never been so aware of somebody’s physical presence before. All you needed to do was move your leg over a few inches and hers would be touching yours. You were vaguely aware of PJ explaining that you were going to practise defending yourselves against each other, but you were only half listening. You were too busy staring at Hazel’s knee. It was so close to yours. You were snapped out of your thoughts by her knee nudging yours. You looked up at Hazel, mortified that you were caught out.
“That’s you,” Hazel said.
“Huh? What? Oh,” you laughed nervously, putting two-and-two together. Josie had said your name. You gulped. You really didn’t want to go first. Surely fighting each other was counterintuitive for solidarity? You sat up, moving to the middle of the circle.
“And um… Hazel.” Josie said. Your eyes widened. You particularly didn’t want to fight her. What if you hurt her?
“Right, okay,” Hazel chuckled awkwardly, standing up to move into the middle as well. You smiled at each other nervously and began circling each other.
“C’mon!” someone shouted.
“Hit each other!” somebody else yelled even louder. Your heart racing, you took a step forward, swinging your fist, nowhere near as hard as you could have, cringing as you did so. Hazel, thankfully, ducked, and you missed. Continuing to circle each other, you both laughed nervously.
The group shouted encouragements, egging you both on. Hazel swung this time as you attempted to dodge. You didn’t quite move fast enough though, and her fist made contact with your cheekbone. You bit back a smile. It was not okay how much you enjoyed it.
“Get her, Hazel! Slay queen!” Sylvie shouted, as she swung again, and this time you ducked quickly. Using the opportunity, you thought you’d better try again, and attempted a right hook, cringing internally when your fist made contact. Hazel smiled. She actually smiled.
“Nice one,” she said, hitting you again, knocking you down onto your back. Amidst the shock, you were vaguely aware of your lip bleeding from where Hazel’s ring made contact. Before you could move to get up, she was on top of you, hips straddling yours, pinning down your wrists. The way her body was pressed against yours made your head spin and your breath quicken. Not to mention the throbbing between your thighs. Your cheer skirt had ridden up in the process, and it was difficult not to notice the only thing covering you were the thin bike shorts underneath.
“Ready to give up yet?” she asked, smirking. You smiled, using all of your strength to push her off you, the two of you rolling over so now you were on top of her. There was something about this particular situation that was making you so much more brave then usual.
“Definitely not,” you replied. There was a bit of back and forth as you rolled around, eventually ending up on your back, Hazel on top of you. Not that you were complaining. The soft noises she made, grunting and groaning as you fought, were possibly the hottest sounds you had ever heard in your entire life. It made you wonder what she sounded if they were noises of pleasure, instead of pain, if she might moan in delight if you were to kiss her neck, if you were to be between her legs, how she would gasp-
“Hazel wins!”
Oh fuck. Your train of thought had absolutely distracted you. You literally had forgotten to keep fighting back, too busy enjoying yourself. Hazel stood up, the loss of the feeling of her against you a large disappointment. You picked yourself up as well, wincing at the pain. Hazel was looking pretty worse for wear as well, blood dripping from her nose, hair mused. You vaguely wondered if it was normal to find it incredibly sexy.
“Well done,” you said, as she reached out to shake your hand. God, she was so endearing. You tried to ignore how much sweat had pooled on your palms.
“You too,” she said, “you were amazing.”
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The next few weeks in the club were truly amazing. Despite the fighting being the thing to bring all of you together, you really felt like you had bonded with every single one of the girls more than you could have imagined. There was a beauty in the trust you put in each other’s hands to be that violent with each other.
More than anything, you felt closer to Hazel. You could actually speak to her without feeling like you were going to explode with anxiety, instead wanting to explode with affection. The pair of you had developed a habit of sitting next to one another, and after every meeting you would hang around after everyone else had left, caught up in conversation. Those small moments were such a safe space, they felt electric; you felt like you could tell her anything and she would listen. And vice versa.
Well. Almost anything.
The two of you were sitting cross-legged in the middle of the gym floor, facing each other. You couldn’t even remember how long ago everyone else had left.
“I dunno, I just feel like this is the first time I’ve had actual, real, friends in school, you know?” Hazel said. The sadness in her eyes and twitch in her brow made you want to scream, to grab the shoulders of anyone who didn’t want to be her friend and ask what the fuck was fundamentally wrong with them.
You nodded sympathetically.
“Me too. I mean, I love Brittany and Isabel, but we didn’t even talk about anything that wasn’t cheer or schoolwork or petty relationship drama until we joined the club. Now we talk about real things.”
“That’s so great,” Hazel said softly, turning your insides to mush.
“You’re so great,” you breathed out quickly, gently placing your hand on her leg before you could think. You cleared your throat, drawing your hand back and placing it back in your lap, clasping your hands together.
“Thank you,” she said your name, and you fought the urge to melt into the floor at the way your name passed through her lips.
Suddenly, the door swung open, and you both whipped your heads to see who it was. PJ wandered in, and you stiffened.
“Hey, I left my backpack.” She jogged up, grabbing it off the ground and swinging it onto her shoulder. “What are you guys doing?”
“Nothing,” you said, possibly a little too defensively.
“Yeah, just talking,” Hazel said, standing up. You basically deflated with disappointment.
“We still on for tonight? I really need some help,” PJ said to Hazel expectedly, and she nodded in response.
“Yeah, for sure. See you later,” she smiled at you, and you tried to hide your disappointment.
“Bye guys,” you waved, waiting until they left to lay down on the floor and groan.
------------------------------------------------------------
“PJ, you’re a liar!”
“Yeah, well, you have no friends and a skank as a mom, so…”
The pain on Hazel’s face was evident. She looked like a kicked puppy. Your blood boiled. How dare PJ say that, after everything Hazel had done for her? Enough was enough. You shot up, stalking over to PJ, rage burning inside of you. With one swift movement, you swung your fist right to the centre of her face, knocking her clean onto the floor.
It suddenly dawned on you what you had done. All of your friends watched in shock, mouths hanging open. Nervously, you turned around, Hazel gazing at you in shock.
“I-uh-“ you stuttered, utterly humiliated. Before you could apologise to PJ for taking it too far, before anyone could say anything, Hazel darted off, the doors shutting loudly behind her.
“PJ, I’m sorry, I-“ you stuttered out to the girl still laying on the floor, before taking off after Hazel.
“Haze, wait!” You followed her figure out the gym, down the hallway, around a corner, and into the toilets.
You entered, taking a deep breath. Hazel was leaning against the sink, chewing on her fingernails.
“Are you okay? I’m so sorry, that was uncalled for. I know you don’t need me to stand up for you, and I know you like PJ, and that was so not my place, and-“ you said quickly. “I’m just really sorry.”
“You don’t have to apologise to me,” Hazel sighed. “You were incredible. I should be thanking you, really.”
“Oh.” You took a small step forward, hands clasped behind your back.
“I don’t like PJ, by the way,” she shook her head, chuckling. Your stomach rolled and dipped.
“Oh?”
“Yeah,” she smiled softly.
“I just hear the way she speaks to you, and I don’t know, I think you deserve better than that,” you shrugged.
“I know I do,” she said, shuffling back and forth nervously. “I just always want to see the best in people, I guess.”
“I love that about you,” you said quickly, without thinking. Blood rushed to your cheeks. You were getting dangerously close to confessing the entirety of your feelings for her. She was the one who made you feel brave. Hazel looked away shyly at this, grinning. God, she was beautiful. You took a moment to admire her.
“That doesn’t mean that you can’t be self-assured and brave at the same time,” you continued. “Really, I’ve always thought that you seem so confident.”
“I’m not as brave as I could be,” she said quietly, scanning your face. “As you.” She inched ever so closer to you. Her eyes were burning into yours, making you feel positively dizzy. “There’s so many things I wish I could do, but I just… don’t have the confidence.” Her voice got quieter and quieter as she spoke.
“Like what?” you asked, nibbling at your bottom lip. You didn’t even remember when you got this close to each other, all you had to do was lean forward just a bit and you would be-
“Oh my god, Hazel are you okay?” the door swung open, and you both jumped back.
“Y-yeah, thanks Josie,” Hazel replied, her adorable face reddening. “It was a wake-up call, if I’m honest.”
“Between you and me, PJ had it coming,” Josie said, placing her hand on your shoulder. You smiled at her gratefully. “Someone had to do it. I really think she’ll come to her senses and realise that she needs to treat you better, Hazel.”
“Thank you. Honestly, I don’t even care that much anymore,” she shrugged, stealing a glance at you. Your breath quickened.
------------------------------------------------------------
It took a few weeks, but everything pretty much went back to normal. PJ was genuinely showing Hazel how sorry she was, appreciating all of the work she did for the club. You and PJ were fine, as well. You forgave each other. Meetings went back to normal, and you found yourself constantly grateful for the group of strong, brave, kind-hearted, supportive girls.
You were currently sitting on your bed, books sprawled out in front of you, ‘studying.’ Okay, so maybe you weren’t entirely concentrating on science homework. Maybe, just maybe, you couldn’t get a certain brunette out of the forefront of your mind. Particularly a certain near-kiss incident. You always presumed there was no way she liked you, that she liked PJ, but now you weren’t sure. Would she have kissed you if you hadn’t been interrupted? Your doorbell rang, and you sighed in relief at the distraction from your rumination. Being home alone, you went down your stairs, heading towards the door and opening it before checking who it was. Nothing could have prepared you to see Hazel standing there, looking incredibly nervous and incredibly adorable. She was wearing a back and white shirt paired with a black vest that should have been illegal to look that good in.
“Hey!” you said, perhaps a little too cheerfully. “What are you doing here? Do you wanna come in?”
She grinned that smile of hers that you swear could cure any disease.
“Yeah, thanks. Just came to see you, if that’s okay? I know it’s a bit weird, I hope I’m not interrupting anything?” You shook your head as she wiped her feet before entering, and you shut the door behind her.
“Just studying. So boring. I’m grateful for the distraction,” you chuckled. And you truly were grateful. It’s as if all your worries and anxieties about Hazel disappeared as soon as she was in front of you. Because it was just Hazel. Your Hazel. Your friend. And no matter what, you loved her. And you knew she cared for you, romantic or not. And that wasn’t going to change.
“Look, I-“ she started, taking a deep breath, and then beginning again. “I’m trying to be brave like you are. To say what I feel when I feel it.” Her voice was steady and even. You wanted to correct her, tell her that you don’t say what you feel, but she continued.
“And what I feel, is that I might just die if I don’t kiss you right now.”
Holy shit.
Instead of responding, you placed your hand behind her neck, both of your bodies moving in sync towards each other. The moment your lips met, you exhaled through your noses in sync. As if you were both saying, finally. Her hands found your waist as your lips softly grazed one another’s, testing the water. You parted your lips slightly, deepening the kiss. Kissing somebody new usually felt daunting as you learned to navigate it, but you had never felt safer. Hazel’s hands moved back and forth on your waist, as her tongue darted out ever so slightly. You moaned softly into the kiss, hands gently threading through the hair at the bottom of her neck. It was just as soft as you imagined.
You pulled apart for a moment, faces close to one another. Neither of you could contain your smiles. You vaguely wondered if it was possible to faint from feeling so many butterflies. Not being able to help yourself, you reached up and brushed her hair out of her eyes.
“Wow,” you exhaled.
Hazel was the first one to move this time, crashing your lips together with more urgency this time. The kiss grew more passionate as you wrapped your arms around each other, yours draped around her neck, hers engulfing your entire back. It was as if you couldn’t get any closer, as if you were drowning and kissing each other was oxygen. Pulling apart ever so slightly, you gave her one last kiss, then another, because you simply couldn’t help it.
“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that.” You giggled, arms still draped around her neck.
“Me too,” she whispered, before kissing your forehead. God, could she get any cuter?
“Really?” you raised an eyebrow, as you both began to move to get more comfortable on the couch, sitting beside one another.
“Yeah, are you kidding!?” she said dramatically. “But you’re like this hot, popular cheerleader, I never thought I’d have a chance with you!”
“I’m hot? Have you seen you?” you asked in disbelief.
She blushes a deep shade of red, mouth opening slightly as if she was going to say something, then closing it again.
“I didn’t even know if you were gay,” she eventually says.
You laughed.
“Don’t you remember the first time we fought? That was like, a sexual spiritual awakening. That was the gayest shit ever.” Hazel threw her head back and laughed, eyes crinkling at the sides.
“I can’t ever forget.”
“Oh! Also…” you said, grinning from ear to ear, absolutely giddy with disbelief that this was actually happening. You pulled your top up slightly to reveal your ribs, where a small tattoo of a pair of interlocked scissors resided. You both laughed. Hazel’s cheeks reddened, and she stuttered.
“Well, I- I mean… maybe you want to be a hairdresser?” she laughed, eyes glued to the tattoo.
“God, that’s so hot,” she mumbled under her breath. “Can I?” she asked reaching out, and you nodded, heart lurching at her care for asking. She gently traced the tattoo, and you let out a shaky breath. She was barely touching you, and yet her effect on you was all-encompassing. Goosebumps prickled your skin everywhere, not just where she was touching you.
“Hazel,” you whispered, barely loud enough for her to hear. “You can take it off if you want.” Your voice came out shakier than you anticipated. Hazel gulped, nodded, then pulled your top off, your arms stretching up to help her. She tossed it on the floor, eyes scanning all of you as if she couldn’t quite take it all in. You were in a plain cotton bra, still wearing your cheer skirt, but Hazel made you feel like you were wearing the most expensive, fancy lingerie ever. You cupped her face, thumbing her cheek, before pulling her in for a kiss. You kissed her with less urgency this time, taking the time to explore each other’s mouths slowly and passionately. She pulled you onto her lap, so you were straddling her, her hands resting on your hips. You slowly began to move against her in rhythm, moaning into the kiss.
Hazel murmured your name against your lips, breathing shakily.
“I want- I- you’re so-“ she tried. “Jesus fucking christ,” she said as she buried her face in the crook of your neck.
“Tell me what you want,” you whispered, running your fingers through her hair. Hazel began to kiss your neck, leaving a trail of kisses up to your ear. Shivers ran down your spine, and you sighed in pleasure.
“Whatever you want. Do whatever you want with me,” she whispered into your ear, and you quite literally nearly came right there and then.
“No, what do you want?” you asked, thumbing at her lip. She opened her mouth, sucking on your thumb before releasing it with a pop. You swore, she was going to actually put you into cardiac arrest. Despite this action, you could tell nobody had really asked her that before, and she was at a loss for words.
“I want to make you feel good. Is that okay?” you asked, instead of letting her answer.
“God yes,” she basically moaned, kissing you. Meanwhile, you pushed her vest off, making quick work of undoing the buttons of her shirt. You tossed the items on the floor, barely breaking your lips apart for a moment.
“Lay down for me,” you moved off her lap, letting her get comfortable. This gave you the perfect opportunity to run your eyes over her body. She was left in a soft black crop top and jeans. Looking down at her, her chest rising and falling, soft skin to die for, eyes wide with desire, lips plump from making out, it crossed your mind that you had never, ever, ever, seen a more heavenly sight.
“You’re so beautiful,” you breathed out, moving to straddle her again, intertwining your fingers together above her head.
“You’re the most beautiful,” she retaliated, nudging your noses together. You both giggled, and you kissed her softly.
“Take the compliment, baby. I mean it,” you said, kissing her again, before she could respond again. Still holding one of her hands, you moved the other down her tummy, lightly tracing patterns on her skin. Her eyes fluttered as she bit her lip.
“Touch me,” she said. You smirked.
“Now we’re getting somewhere,” you chuckled, glad she was asking for what she wanted.
“Can I take these off?” you blinked at her, fiddling with a belt loop on her jeans.
“Please,” she said breathily, arching her back slightly. You undid the button, the zipper, then stood up so she could shimmy out of them, you yanked them off her legs a little too hard, your feet giving out beneath you as you stumbled backwards, landing on your ass on the floor in shock. You looked at each other for a second, before both bursting out laughing.
“Smooth,” Hazel said between loud laughs. “Really smooth. How did you even manage that?” she teased, getting off the couch, instead onto the floor with you, crawling towards you. Your eyes drifted down to her cleavage, then back to her eyes. You inhaled sharply.
“Shut up,” you teased back, as she moved on top of you, pinning you down.
“I feel like we’ve been here before,” Hazel mused, holding your wrists down.
“I’m definitely getting flashbacks,” you laughed. “Except this time, I can just…” you kissed her, a little sloppily, but neither of you cared because it was so hot.
------------------------------------------------------------
The very next day, you and Hazel walked hand in hand into a club meeting, giggling and whispering to each other. You were the last ones to arrive, having gotten a little distracted in the janitor’s closet.
Everyone turned to look at the pair of you, all seemingly realising what was happening at the exact same moment.
“Oh my god, FINALLY!”
“You fucked! Finally!”
“You were so obvious!”
“Slay queens!”
A chorus of excitement engulfed you, as everyone crowded around you, hugging the pair of you. PJ included.
“I’m really happy for you guys. This-“ she pointed back and forth between you, then made some inappropriate gestures, “makes a lot of sense.”
“Thanks, dude.” Hazel smiled at her.
“Okay, let’s start!” Josie chimed, and you all sat down in a circle. You didn’t let go of Hazel’s hand for a moment. “As per our new protocol, we’re drawing names for pairings.” She held up a hat full of slips with all of your names on it, shaking it around. She stuck her hand in, swirled it around a little too long for dramatic effect. She drew a paper out, reading it aloud.
“Hazel!” You internally groaned. You didn’t want anyone else to get that close to your girl.
“And….” She picked another piece, reading your name out. You grinned.
“Are you game?” Hazel asked, and you nodded enthusiastically.
“Only if you are.”
“Are you kidding?” She leaned into your ear to whisper. “Any excuse to get you on top of me.”
2K notes · View notes
sxcret-garden · 6 months
Text
Yunho ღ Tight [M]
ღ Ateez Yunho x fem-bodied!reader ღ words: ~700 ღ genre: smut (soft dom!Yunho, size training (kinda) but it's just his fingers, squirting) ღ warnings: none
Desc.: You just really want to be full of your boyfriend’s pretty fingers… (inspired by one of the asks I got a few days ago that wouldn't leave my mind 🫣)
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You whimper at the way your boyfriend is slowly pumping two of his long digits in and out of you, his fingers effortlessly gliding back into your pussy with each thrust. You're dripping wet to say the least, and as you're unable to take your eyes off his hand between your legs, he presses a light kiss to the corner of your mouth, making your eyes flutter shut for a second.
"You like that?" he asks, his voice kept low. "Watching my fingers going in and out of your cute little pussy?"
"Yeah..." you admit abashedly. You gulp before looking up at his darkened eyes, not missing the way the sight of you enjoying such a simple act so much takes his breath away. "Want another one..." you mutter.
"You think you can take it?" Yunho asks and you nod with determination. Carefully he adds a third finger, and though you can feel a bit of a stretch, with the way he keeps slowly moving in and out of you, you adjust to the feeling quickly. Curling his fingers inside you, you moan at the sensation that courses through your body when he hits your g-spot, and you throw your head back.
"Yunho..." you mutter his name, finding greed behind his gaze as you feel your high slowly building up in the pit of your stomach. "It's not enough..."
"What is?" He leans in to place another kiss on your temple, before letting you answer.
"Want... another finger..." Your boyfriend looks at you with concern for a moment, and you shoot him a pleading look in response.
"I don't want to hurt you..."
"It's fine... I just have to get used to it," you try to convince him. "Please, Yuyu..." His expression changes ever so slightly, telling you that the nickname is affecting him. "Wanna be full of your pretty fingers..." He gasps, barely noticeable, and then he nods okay.
"Lie down, baby," he says, crawling on top of you. "I'll help you relax." And then, as soon as your shoulders hit the mattress, he connects his lips to yours in a slow but deep kiss as he keeps working his fingers inside you at a steady pace. You moan into the kiss, bucking your hips up into his hand, and you throw your arms around his shoulders.
"Please... I won't last much longer..." you mutter, and you earn yourself an amused smile from your boyfriend.
"You're gonna cum just on my fingers, hm? Then let me give you what you want." He pulls all the way out, and the next time he enters you, you can undeniably feel an uncomfortable stretch. Yet the thought of having four of his fingers filling you up is enough to want him to keep going anyway. And so you throw your head back, moaning from the pleasure.
"K-keep going... don't stop..."
"So desperate... and so tight," he whispers, the look in his eyes changing as he watches you, and the bulge in his pants undeniably growing. "Fuck, you're really gonna take all of that, aren't you?" He slips inside fully, but doesn't stop moving as he lets you adjust, and you keep begging him not to stop.
"Y-yeah... gonna take your fingers... wanna cum on all of them..." you stammer, starting to see stars from how full your pussy feels, and soon the uncomfortable feeling fades and leaves you with nothing but pure bliss.
"Shit, Yuyu... I'm gonna cum..." Your boyfriend curls his fingers against that perfect spot deep inside you again, pumping in and out of your cunt at a steady speed now. And just when you can see yourself almost reaching the edge, he presses his thumb against your clit, making you cry out. Next thing you know you're coming undone, clenching around all four of his digits and squirting all over his hand. And with each time your orgasm shakes you, you can't but moan his name, until nothing but slurred moans escape you throughout the last aftershocks.
"You took them so well, babe..." he mumbles as he scatters a few kisses all over your chest, slowly pulling his fingers out of you. "You okay?"
"Yeah," you answer, smiling as your boyfriend takes you into his arms. "More than okay, actually."
1K notes · View notes
footiecent · 1 month
Text
not your fault
(emily fox x reader)
in which you're obsessed with your girlfriend (especially her jawline)
warnings: slightly suggestive? almost all fluff
word count: 1.1k
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It's not your fault. Really, it's not.
“Baby, don’t you have to get up soon?”
You hum in reply, half asleep. 
You’re so comfortable. Your head is tucked protectively into the crook of your girlfriend’s left shoulder and neck while you lie almost entirely on top of her, the covers burying the both of you into a warm, delightful cocoon. Emily’s left hand is slowly moving up and down your back, and everything is just perfect.
“You can’t be late for work again.”
You open your eyes at that, but at the first moment you start to untangle your arms from her waist and feel her body heat dissipate, you realize that maybe you can stay for just another minute.
So, you decide to flop back down. Though, you’ve at least managed to roll your upper body partially off of her, giving you a perfect view of her side profile as she closes her eyes, not having to get up for practice for another half-hour. 
You can’t help but to reach out your hand and run your thumb along her sharp jawline—mind assaulted by memories of the night before when you see the marks littered below it.
Damn. She’s gonna kill me, you think. She’s told you so many times that covering hickies up before practices is a bitch, and looking at these marks—ones that might be a few too many shades past concealable—you realize you’re fucked. 
You start to analyze the best plan of action, landing on one that has you placing a gentle kiss onto her jaw before springing up from bed and hurriedly walking to the bathroom to wash up. All you have to do is leave before she gets up. Easy work. Easy peasy…
You’re so close—you’re at the door, knelt down with one shoe on when you hear her.
“Y/N! Come on!” she yells. 
Yikes.
You manage to put your other shoe on right as she appears in your vision, very clearly ticked off. 
“It’s not my fault?” you try, walking towards your very beautiful, and very pissed girlfriend.
“Oh, so it’s my fault I have to cover these up?” she says, pushing your shoulder when you stand in front of her.
Looking at her face, you decide that telling her you literally just look so incredible at every moment it’s not my fault you’re mine and I can’t help it would not exactly help your case. So, you decide to resume your quick exit, quickly kissing her cheek and saying, “Have a good practice babe, I love you!” as you grab your keys and leave your shared flat. 
You do make a mental note to buy Emily’s favorite chocolates after work. 
--------------------------------------------------------------
Like really, it's her fault. Who gave her the right to look that good after a game?
You’re reminded that you’re always completely in the right when you’re sitting at the Emirates two days later, watching your girlfriend wrap up a defensive masterclass against Chelsea. For the first time in a while, London is sunny, and the beautiful weather only adds onto the incredible mood in the stadium as the full-time whistle blows and cheers thunder throughout every corner.
You can’t help but stare at her while she celebrates with the rest of the team. Lotte likes to joke that the two of you could melt taffy with just one of your lovesick glances, but you can’t help it. It's her fault for looking so good after a game—sweaty, smiley, and positively glowing after helping her team to a win. 
She spends time walking around the stadium, signing autographs and taking pictures, while you chat absentmindedly with Alessia, who came to greet you before starting her rounds of the stadium. But when Emily finally makes her way towards you—lifting her shirt up to try and wipe some sweat off her face—you start thinking about your plans for after. Alessia catches your change in demeanor, rolling her eyes and walking away while muttering something under her breath. 
“Did you enjoy the game?” your girlfriend asks, stepping in front of you, grinning from ear to ear. You both look disgustingly in love as the sun shines down and highlights her vibrant smile. 
“Of course I did. How could I not, superstar?” 
Being in the stands means you hover tall over Emily, enabling you to comfortably wrap your arms around her neck as she looks up at you. You ignore the few stares that direct their way towards you two as you relentlessly press kisses onto her jawline and cheek. She’s laughing as she playfully tries to shove you away, but you can’t help but hold her a little tighter and whisper just how excited you are to get home. 
--------------------------------------------------------------
So, she should stop getting annoyed. She should know that you’ll never truly be satisfied. 
Your watch reads ‘8 P.M.’ as you cuddle up to Emily’s side on the white couch in your living room. The two of you had rushed home from the afternoon game, unable to resist the allure of enjoying each other’s company for a few hours.
And now, after redressing yourselves, cooking and eating dinner, washing the dishes, and tidying up the kitchen, the two of you are sitting together, more innocently enjoying each other’s company. She has a book out while you scroll mindlessly through Twitter, poking her side every few minutes to draw her attention to a funny tweet. 
After thirty minutes, however, Emily is deeply immersed into her reading and you’re bored. So, you resort to beginning your favorite activity: staring at her. You look up at her while your head rests against her arm, and you’re still mesmerized by her beauty even years into your relationship.
“What?” she asks without looking away from her book.
“You’re hot.”
She dismisses the comment with a small snicker, but places a kiss onto your forehead regardless. 
“We already fucked today, let me read in peace.”
You huff, but the both of you are well-aware that you aren’t deterred by small obstacles. So naturally, you begin to press a few open-mouthed kisses right below her jaw. She indulges you for a moment, closing her eyes and letting her book rest on her lap. But when a kiss turns into a stinging bite, she opens her eyes and grabs your shoulder. 
“C’mon, stop it. I have to go in for recovery tomorrow, you know that,” she whines. “I already stopped you from leaving marks once today!”
But she should know that you simply can’t help yourself. She should’ve known that you were going to toss away her book from her other hand, grab her wrists, and straddle her lap. She really should know that the stern look she sends you—with her jaw clenched, almost sharpened—while sitting underneath you only makes her hotter. 
She should’ve known that she was going to wake up the next morning with quite a few more marks. 
After all, it's not your fault. 
500 notes · View notes
msgexymunson · 9 months
Text
Sammy's Mom
Description: Eddie Munson finds it difficult to get over his fantasies about you, his best friend's mom. He tries so hard to keep it in check. The only problem? Sammy's mom has got it going on.
A/N: kind of a little nod to the song "Stacey's Mom" (which is 20 years old now BTW, so if you remember it it's time to take aspirin for your back pain), I've written too much older Eddie in my time so trying to balance it out, as I've given him far too much rizz! And his friend is called Sammy as I've watched a lot of Supernatural recently. Please comment and reblog if you enjoy this my sweethearts.
Warnings: where do I start lmao, NSFW, Minors DNI or I'll slap you with a wet fish, age gap, Eddie's 21, reader is early 40s, MILF reader, reader referred to as 'Mrs F' a few times no first name given, perv Eddie, voyeurism, male masturbation, very slight foot fetish (nothing actually happens), oral both male and female receiving, p in v unprotected sex, slight anal play, cum eating.
10.5k words
Masterlist 
"UNCLE EDDIE!!" 
Johnny's little six year old voice rings out like a bell in the front yard. You look out the window and see him running as fast as his little legs could carry him towards a young man getting out of a beat up van. 
"Hey Squirt!" Crouching to his knees, he accepts your kids embrace, then stands with him, swinging him around in the air as Johnny shrieks uncontrollably, unbridled joy brimming from his chest. The next minute he's got Johnny on his shoulders, walking around the house to the back yard. 
You smile at their antics, warmed at the gesture. Eddie has always been good with your youngest son when he comes to visit Sammy, your oldest. It was nice, him having another man around to look up to, even if he really needs to remember to watch his language. 
Voices sound from the back yard; Eddie had found Sammy and as usual, they were loud and laughing. Not that you minded at all, any laughter those kids could get was music to your ears. 
You grab your sunglasses and perch them on top of your head, searching around for your gardening tools. It was a beautiful day, the sun was shining and you wanted to be near the kids at least. Grasping your pruners and gardening gloves in one hand and a cooler in the other, you make your way to the rear of the house. 
Pushing the back door open with a hip, you see Sammy is already in the pool. Johnny is still talking a mile a minute at Eddie, as he sits on the edge of a lawn chair. 
Well, he's certainly grown up. 
Eddie's shirtless, sitting there in his long black swimming trunks. There's a new tattoo on his ribs but you can't make it out from this distance. He's looking toned; his jaw is sharper, with shoulders broader than you remember. He's become a man. 
When the hell did that happen? 
Shaking your head out of your temporary revelry, you walk over to the pair of them. The snippets of conversation you overhear as you approach widen the smile on your face. 
"So, you think of any new monsters for me big guy?" 
Johnny beams at Eddie with pride. "Yeah! So right, it's like, a big bat thing right? With metal bits all over, and- and- then it's got these huuuuge teeth, and- and- when he opens its mouth the teeth fly out, right, and turn into bats!!" 
He starts excitedly flapping his arms around and screeching as Eddie laughs and ruffles his hair.
"Bats huh? That's sick. Pretty metal, squirt. Have to add that to the campaign." 
Johnny beams at the praise, staring down at his hand, trying to work out his fingers, then flashes the devil horn hand at him triumphantly. 
"Johnny honey, do you want to play in the pool? Give Uncle Eddie a chance to breathe?" 
"Yeah! Can I do cannonballs? Can I can I can I?" 
His enthusiasm always brings a smile to your face. "Sure thing honey, just don't go in the deep end, 'K?" 
"Kay!" He flashes a thousand watt smile at you and runs off, calling to his brother. 
Your gaze returns to Eddie, who you are sure was just checking you out. His eyes flick to yours almost guiltily. 
"Brought some beers out for you both. Here." Passing him the cooler, your hands brush briefly, the slight touch running a shiver down your spine despite the heat. 
"Thanks Mrs F." 
Eddie licks his lips and you trace the movement with your eyes.
"Mom! What are you wearing?" 
Sammy has exited the pool, dripping water everywhere. You look down at your outfit. You were wearing a two piece, slightly skimpier than your usual swimwear, and a pair of jean hotpants. 
"Sammy love, it's hot. I'm in my backyard. What am I supposed to do? Dress like a nun?" 
Eddie snorts a laugh next to you. 
"But you're all… exposed mom." 
"Sammy, shut up. Your mom can wear what she wants." 
"Yeah? You're only saying that because you-"
But you're destined to never hear the end of that sentence as Eddie pushes him into the pool. Water splashes everywhere, and Eddie laughs, throwing his head back. The gesture has you staring yet again, looking at the skin on his neck, the way his Adam's apple bobs. A mad idea enters your head; what if you just darted your tongue out and licked over it? Decorated that delicate skin with kisses? Nipped at the sides of his throat with your teeth?
Eddie makes eye contact with you then, and you quickly look away. He was sure you were eyeing him up, almost certain of it. Hell, he's been staring at you for years, mapping your curves with his eyes, knowing he'll never get a chance to feel them under his hands, but the look you just gave him made his stomach twist.
Before your thoughts can go any further you tear yourself away and over to the rose bushes. You deadhead the rose bush as if your life depends on it, furiously snipping and cutting, as if you're trying to trim back the impure thoughts you're having. 
After a while, the bushes are looking a lot neater. Stepping back, you remove your gardening gloves and swipe the sweat beads on your brow with the back of your hand. 
"Mrs F, you wanna beer?" 
You turn to see Eddie laying on a sun lounger, waving a cold one. As you walk towards him he stands up to hand it to you. 
"That a new tattoo Eddie?" You ask, pointing to his abdomen. He looks taken aback by your question but responds nonetheless. 
"Yeah, you like it?" 
Your hand drifts towards him almost instinctively, only realising when his muscles tense under your soft touch. It's a scorpion, surrounded in a wreath of flames. Tracing it with your fingers, you circle it slowly. Eddie can feel his heart pounding in his chest. A slow moan escapes Eddie's lips which pulls you out of wherever the hell you were heading. The heat must have gotten to your head. Pulling back your fingers, you respond.
"Yeah, I like it. Metal." 
Looking up around him through your lashes, your eyes meet his. He looks flushed, cheeks heating at your stare. 
"You OK Eddie?" 
"Y-yeah, fine. I'm gonna have a dip in the pool." 
He shuffles awkwardly off, nearly bent double. All his strange stance does is draw attention to the tent in his swimming trunks that has appeared. It's really rather large; to your amazement, you can't seem to take your eyes off it. Eddie dives into the pool, swimming over to your son. 
Did I just do that? 
You shake your head, banishing thoughts of Eddie's package, and head off to the kitchen to clean some dishes. 
As Eddie rushes into the pool, he's wishing the cool water would shrink the raging hard on he just got. 
Fuck, you look so good today. That skimpy bikini top barely covering the curves of your tits; them damn near spilling out of the top. Those tiny shorts, framing your hips and ass perfectly. Then you had to go and touch him. That had him nearly busting in his pants. He can't help but wonder if it was on purpose. A crazy thought he shouldn't be entertaining. 
He dips his head under the water trying to cool the blood that had rushed to his cheeks. 
You had to be at least 40. Sammy's Dad had been out of the picture for a while, he knew that much. He couldn't help but wonder if you were a little lonely; maybe that's why you had been flirting with him. Or it was entirely Eddie's imagination and he just needs to jerk off and get it out of his system. 
As he gets out of the water, shaking his hair like a dog, he thinks he sees you looking at him through the kitchen window, but he can't be sure. 
"Dude, why have you got a boner?" Sammy points at him from the water, forcing Eddie to cup his erection, trying to hide it from prying eyes. 
"I can't help it!" He whisper shouts, cheeks flushing anew, "your mom's hot!" 
"Eddie! Don't say that, that's gross!" Sammy slings back, pulling a disgusted face.
"Hey it's not, she's a total fox, what can I do, it's like, biological, she's a babe!" 
Little did he know you can hear every word, pressing your lips together firmly to suppress a laugh as you dry up a cup in the kitchen. 
"She's like, really old, and she's my mom for God's sake!" 
"Hey, rude, she's not that old. You think she's into younger guys?" You can hear the smile in his voice, he's clearly just trying to wind Sammy up now, but your thighs clench together at the thought. The cup in your hands is dry as a bone right now. 
"Eddie shut the f-" 
"What's a boner?" The little voice is clear and loud, cutting through the argument. 
A loud laugh shoots from your chest uncontrollably. You try to mask it with your hand but there's nothing you can do, it's out there now. 
Eddie's head whips around to face the house, flicking water droplets in its wake. 
"Oh shit." It's low, but loud enough to hear. 
Making your way back outside, you call out to Johnny to save either of them answering the awkward question.
"Come on kid, you want a snack?" 
"Yeah mommy! Shit!" Eddie's mouth drops open. 
"What did I say about copying Eddie" you ask sternly. 
He parrots back in a sing-song voice, "don't copy Eddie, Eddie is dirty." 
"That's right. Come on, inside." He runs past you in the way only a child can, feet flat on the floor slapping on the concrete.
Eddie steps a little closer to you.
"I'm so sorry Mrs F it won't-" 
"Hey, it's OK," you reply, stepping to meet him. You drop your voice lower, hand up as if you're telling a secret. On autopilot, Eddie leans towards you to hear your whisper, close enough to smell your shampoo. 
"Sometimes mommy's dirty too." 
Turning on your heel, you walk back into the house without a glance, leaving Eddie with his jaw on the floor.
Where the hell did that come from?
You try to steady your breathing as you go inside. That was reckless of you, he's half your age. You admonish yourself, telling your brain that you need to stop flirting with the poor boy. 
Eddie's frozen on the spot. It's clear you overheard their little conversation, and then you come out with something like that? It's definitely not his imagination at this point. For a crazy moment he thinks he might actually have a shot at you. 
Stop it. She's Sammy's mother for Christ's sake. Pull yourself together Munson. 
"Imma take a quick shower if that's alright and get, er, changed. You wanna work on the campaign some more?" Eddie says it over his shoulder to Sammy, not daring to turn. He's never been so hard in all his life. 
"Sure, just stay out of my mom's room." 
Eddie laughs nervously, "who do you think I am?" As he walks to the house. 
"Eddie fuckin' Munson." Sammy mutters under his breath. 
As he stumbles into the house with his bundle of clothes over his crotch, he catches another glimpse of you, on your hands and knees searching in a cupboard. 
"Honey, I don't think we've got any animal crackers left." You say over your shoulder to a pouting Johnny. 
You're barely contained in your jean hot pants, the denim tight against your perfect ass. 
"Fuckin' hell" Eddie mutters under his breath, tearing his eyes away to make his way upstairs. 
He practically runs up the stairs, tripping slightly on the last step. Flinging his body into the bathroom, he shuts and locks the door. 
Five seconds later he's in the shower with his hand wrapped around his slippery cock, tugging on it as if it were his last day on earth. 
Fuck, why does she have to be so fine? 
He's whimpering and stifling breathy moans as he cums hard in less than five minutes. Shame snags its sneaky claws into his heart then, as he hangs his head under the shower head. He needs to get it together before the thought of you ruins him completely. 
********************
Knocking on your eldest son's door, he calls out for you to enter. Both him and Eddie are sitting on the bed, a pile of books and notes between them. You do your best to ignore the smoky weed smell as you address him.
"Sammy, I'm heading out, you still OK to take care of Johnny?" 
"Woah, Mrs F you look h-" Sammy elbows him in the ribs before he can finish the sentence, "-very nice." Eddie finishes lamely. 
A smile spreads over your face at his words. Your date tonight was nothing special, not really, but the need growing between your legs needed to be sorted out somehow. So, you'd dressed to impress; a red figure hugging dress, ending just at the knee, with matching slingbacks. Your hair was down, hanging past your shoulders in soft curls. 
"Mom, I'm going to Tiffany's, to stay over, remember?" Sammy responds, raising his eyebrows meaningfully at you.
"That was tonight?" Well, fuck. "Your grandma's coming to pick Johnny up at 9, can't you stay until then? 
"I can watch him." 
You both turn to look at Eddie. He looks just as surprised as you two at his words.
"I can watch him, no problem. I ain't got anywhere to be tonight."
Eddie doesn't know why he offered. Well, in part he did. He might get to see you again in that dress later. 
"Thanks Eddie, you're a lifesaver. I can pay-" 
"Oh no, don't worry about it." He flashes a grin which does something to your insides, melting them just a little.
"Thank you, I really appreciate it. Johnny's downstairs watching TV, he's had dinner, just need to wait for my mom to pick him up. You sure it's OK?" 
"Of course, it's no problem." 
"OK, well make yourself at home." You give him a winning smile of your own which makes his face flush red. 
"Oh, and Sammy?" 
"Yeah mom?" 
"Use protection." 
"Mom!" 
You laugh and shut the door, heading off to your date. 
********************
The date was a total bust, not that you'd expected anything less. Greg from accounting was nice, sure; kind of handsome, in a middle aged balding kind of way. A reliable sort of guy. Then, when the dinner was over and he kissed you, you knew there was no way it was going to go any further. So, you'd refused his invitation to go to a bar, made your excuses and got a cab home. 
Standing outside your house, you look at the time. 9:30. Rock and roll. You huff into the humid night air at how old you must seem right now, and open your front door. 
"Eddie!" 
Sprawled on the sofa, manspreading, sits Eddie. A beer rests on the coffee table, and the TV is blaring out some horror film. 
He scrambles to his feet looking like he's about to be told off. 
"Mrs F, sorry, erm, your mom's not here yet, she called saying she was running late-" 
As if on cue, there's a knock at the door. You open it, and see your mom standing there, pushing past you in a cloud of perfume. 
"Hey love, so sorry I'm late!" She looks at you, then Eddie. "Is this your date?" 
Blushing a furious red, you shake your head. 
"Oh, no this is Sammy's friend, he was watching Johnny for a bit." 
"Oh, the young man I spoke to on the phone. Shame, he's very handsome." She winks at you. 
"Mom!" 
Eddie looks like he's about to die from blood loss; his face is so drained it's ghostly white. 
"I-I'll go get squirt," he stumbles out awkwardly. 
"Mom, please behave." You whisper when he's left the room.
"I'm behaving! I thought you were on a date, what happened?" 
"He wasn't my type." 
"Well, you should find someone who is. How long has it been?" 
You run your hand through your hair, feeling a little more confrontational than usual due to the alcohol in your veins. 
"Mom, just drop it. I'm fine!" 
"OK, OK! That babysitter is a fine looking young man-" 
"Mom!" 
"Mommy!" You turn just in time for Johnny to grab your legs in a hard hug, squishy cheek pushing against your thigh. 
"We went on an adventure! I'm a Knight, I saved the lady! There was gobbins and stuff!" His little eyes shine, staring at Eddie in pure adoration. 
"Really? Well done! Sounds amazing love. Go on, go with nanna. I love you." 
"OK! Love you mom! Bye Uncle Eddie!" He runs over to him and grabs his legs fiercely. Eddie ruffles his hair in response.
"Night squirt. Or should I say Sir Johnny the Just?" 
"Yeah! Imma hero!" He beams and runs off to grasp your mother's hand, regaling her of his adventures. 
"I'll see you later mom," you say, passing her Johnny's overnight bag by the door. 
As the door shuts, the only sounds are coming from the gristly movie on the TV until Eddie switches it off. Silence. 
"Mrs F, I only opened the beer after I put him to bed, I swear-" 
"Hey, it's fine, don't worry. Thanks for staying longer, I appreciate it." 
"Oh, it's fine. My trailers empty anyway, and you have cable." He smiles sheepishly at you. 
"I told you, make yourself at home. Finish your beer." 
Shoes are kicked off to join the jumble at the front door, and you rub some life back into your aching heels. Eddie's staring at your feet and he can't figure out why. He's never had a thing for feet, but yours? Yours he'd happily have running over his body, in his mouth, on his cock. He's almost ashamed at how just the slightest bit of your flesh on show has him practically drooling. 
You're oblivious to Eddie's perverse thoughts however. Tonight was not what you wanted, and it makes you huff aloud at the thought. 
"You alright Mrs F?" Eddie asks, concern in his voice as he sits back down on the couch, trying his hardest not to stare at your cleavage. 
"Yeah I'm-" why are you lying? "no, actually I'm not. Not the night I was expecting." When you flash a weak smile at Eddie, it's not returned. He looks worried almost. 
"Wanna talk about it?" 
It's sweet of him to ask, and you're about to brush it off but he just looks so invested in your welfare that it takes you aback briefly. 
"Sure. Hang on a minute." You pad barefoot to the kitchen and grab a beer, returning to the living room to sit on the couch beside him. 
Eddie is trying to tell himself he's just being nice. It's not just an excuse to stay. It's difficult to believe his own thoughts however when your dress is riding up your thigh like that.
The very air between you both seems thick and laced with unanswered questions, tension real and palpable. 
"So, Sir Johnny the Just?" You ask, to try and clear the closing space. 
"Yeah," Eddie grins, face lighting up at the mention of your boy, "I gave him the name. Made a little one shot for him, you know, fought some goblins, saved a damsel in distress. He's got a knack for D&D." 
Your eyes glisten at that.
"Thanks, he really looks up to you. It's nice, him having some guys around." 
"Can I ask, what happened to… Mr F?" He knows he's crossing a line here, but he's so curious, and Sammy never talks about it. 
"He left me. I was pregnant with Johnny, and he met some blonde twig, had an affair." 
"Oh, I'm so fuckin' sorry." 
You shrug. It's trauma, yes, but it's passed. A wound that has long since closed over the years, scarring but healing. You sip your beer and ask a line crossing question of your own.
"So, no girlfriend then? Since you're free on a Saturday night?" 
You're not sure where that came from, but it's been asked now. A bubble of nerves pops when you ask it, showering you in drops of second guesses. 
"N-no, well I mean, yeah I've had like, girlfriends in the past but no, I'm single. As a pringle." 
What was that about? Smooth Munson. 
You just laugh as he visibly cringes at his own words. 
"Pringles aren't single, they fit together. They come in a tube." You add, mock helpfully. 
You both chuckle then, diffusing some of the awkwardness between you. He knocks your knee with his. You reciprocate, and look up into those soulful puppy dog eyes of his. 
Eddie's arm lays on the back of the couch behind you, and he's painfully aware of that fact. He wants to drop it to your shoulder, to run circles on your exposed skin and give you that smile, the smile he's given to a dozen girls. But you aren't a girl. You're a woman. The thought is making him more nervous than a virgin on prom night. 
Coughing the thought away, he asks you about tonight. 
"So, what happened on your date? I thought you'd be out later." 
"So did I." You slug some more beer back to calm yourself, and continue, "he was a nice guy. Opened doors, paid for dinner. Then he kissed me." 
Eddie attempted to ignore the burning jealousy in his gut. 
"Oh yeah? Sounds awful.' 
Laughing, you reach and stroke his side for a minute. Your hand lingers, feeling down to his hip. Eddie's heart is pounding in his throat. To his amazement, you leave it there, absentmindedly running fingers over his t-shirt. 
'Yeah, torture," you quip, "it was the kiss." 
Suddenly, you're moving your hand, much to Eddie's dismay, and turning to face him on the couch. He does the same, noticing that his arm is now so close to your head he can feel a slight tickle from your hair. 
"Can I be honest with you?" 
"Sure," Eddie tries to say coolly, to act like his entire insides aren't on fire because of the eye contact you're giving him. 
"It's, er, been a while. A very long while." Your eyes dip down, unsure why the hell you're telling Eddie this, but something about him is making you want to be open when usually you're a closed book. 
Eddie swallows thickly. He knows exactly what you're getting at. On instinct his thumb is rubbing the back of your head, over the soft curls. You don't seem to mind, better yet, your shoulders drop some tension, letting go just a little. 
Still looking down, you say "I can usually tell what someone's going to be like, in bed, from a kiss. Never been wrong yet," you laugh a little, "and he felt, well, dull, and kinda selfish." 
Grabbing your beer for something to distract you from the ache in your core, you drink some more, nearly finishing it. 
As you place it back down on the coffee table, you glance at Eddie's lap. He's fumbling with his rings, spinning one with his thumb as he shifts in his seat. There's an unmissable bulge in the front of his jeans; they're so tight you can see the outline of it. Of him. 
Glancing up at his face when you feel brave enough, it's beetroot red, but his eyes look dark, hungry almost. 
"Well, th-that's a cool superpower to have," he laughs out nervously. 
"I suppose it is" You smile. 
Eddie's trying so hard to control himself. The devil on his shoulder is pulling at his hair and yelling in his ear to make a move. 
This isn't right though, it's Sammy's mom for fucks sake. 
That's when you put your hand on his knee, touching that bare patch of skin where his jeans are frayed. Your touch is delicate, almost hesitant, and it destroys any resolve Eddie had. His hand is shaking slightly as he puts his fingers over yours. 
The touch is warming and electric, fanning the flames of the blazing fire in your stomach. As your eyes meet, Eddie's confidence grows. He can see that you want this, but someone needs to make the first move, and he would kick himself if he missed out because he didn't have the balls to make it.
"You know sweetheart," he begins, as you take a sharp breath at the nickname, he's never called you anything other than Mrs F before that, "you can't just say you have a superpower like that and not show me." 
There's nerves in his voice, but also a cheeky smile playing on his lips. To his amazement you blush, mouth curving into a smile of your own. 
"Listen, Eddie, you're a very sweet boy-" 
"-man," He interjects, "I'm 21." 
Chuckling, you reply, "OK, a very sweet young man, but I don't think that's a good idea." 
It's true, you don't. It's a very bad idea, but it's one you can't get out of your head, your eyes drawn to the curve of his jaw, his stubble, those plush lips of his. Wetting your lips impulsively, you nibble at the bottom one which sends Eddie's head into a dizzying whirlwind. 
"I just wanna know if I'm good in the sack, think it's only fair if you can tell me, it's just a kiss." 
Luck being pushed as far as it can go and then a little further, he daringly places a hand on your cheek. 
He is right, it's only a kiss. 
You say it in your head as if you're trying to convince yourself of the lie. By the time you realise how weak of an argument it is, you're already leaning forward, eyes unmistakably drawn to his lips. 
Eddie leans in, breath fanning your face. 
"Don't you want to… satisfy your curiosity?" 
It's bold, he knows, but you're the one who leans in further.
Eddie doesn't think twice, not when your eyes are hooded like that and your lips are forming a sultry pout. He presses his lips to yours softly at first, feeling the plush of them melt against his, his hand winding into your hair. 
You don't stop him, or pull back. His lips on yours are disarming, taking away your bite. The kiss is gentle, and you dissolve into it, moving your lips against his with a passion you can't remember ever feeling. 
Eddie's trying really hard not to just stick his tongue down your throat and feel you up, but he needs to prove something. He might not ever get a chance ever again, so he takes it slow. Opening his mouth, his tongue swipes against your bottom lip, begging. Not only do you let him, you return his tongue with a lick of your own, running it over his lip in turn. Tongues stroke into each other's mouths sensually; you feel as if you have something to prove. Like he's the one who will be judging you and not the other way around.
He tastes intoxicating; you can't put your finger on why, it's beer, and cigarettes, and something else that's drawing you in. It's just pure Eddie. His smell too, leather, smoke and Old Spice;  it's filling you up from the inside out, making your head spin. 
Eddie's obsessed. Your touch, your scent, your taste. He could kiss you forever; he could kiss you until he dies, suffocated by your mouth, your passion. This feels like some sort of fever dream and he never wants to wake up.
Your fingers are touching cotton fabric before you even understand that you've got a fistful of his shirt, pulling him in further. He responds by dropping his hand to your neck, thumb rubbing intoxicating patterns on your pulse point. 
When you're feeling on the brink of being entirely consumed by his kiss, he's the one to pull away. It's a little sneaky, he knows that, but he wants the upper hand and thinks he won't get it ever again. Eddie can't believe his luck when he sees your eyes still closed, lips chasing his touch, with a ball of his shirt in your hands. 
As your eyes flutter open, you look up at him. A self satisfied smirk is smeared across his face and you can't help but think he's won this round of whatever the hell you're playing. Playing with fire it feels like. 
A moment too late and you remember your hand bunched into his clothes. You unhand him and slap his knee, fingers unwilling to pull away. 
"So, what's the verdict sweetheart?" Eddie asks. His fingers are still massaging at your neck, rubbing back and forth, sending tingles down your spine. 
"What?" You ask, mind well and truly blank. 
"Guessing that's good." He laughs, taking his hand away to take a sip of his beer. "Remember your superpower, Wonder Woman?" 
"Oh, yeah. It was… good." You shrug, picking up the last of your beer and downing it. 
"Good? Good?! Come on, you gotta give me more than that!" He huffs dramatically, slamming his beer bottle on the table. 
Laughing aloud, you turn and face him again. He really is beautiful. His hair framing his face, that triumphant smile on his lips, laughter lines creasing in his day old stubble. You can almost believe he's older than he is, but knowing what you know about his family, he's been through a lot. 
"OK, it was the best kiss I've had in a while. A very long time." 
"Yeah?" 
"Yeah." 
It's quiet for a moment; a loaded kind of quiet. It hangs heavily in the air like a thunderstorm. 
"Well, how about you?" You ask. 
"What do you mean?" 
"You know what I mean!" You laugh, nudging him with your foot.
"It was… good." He says, mimicking your words. Then he takes in your face, drinking in your beauty with his eyes, until he can't hold back anymore, "alright, it was mind blowing, you're really fuckin' hot." 
"Yeah, for my age" You scoff at his response, disbelieving him even after that kiss. You hear it alot, ever since you passed 35. 'You look good for your age', the backhanded compliment that feels like a knife in the chest. 
"That's bullshit!" Eddie responds loudly, shaking you out of your head and into the here and now, "you're fucking hot, period. Nothing to do with age sweetheart." 
If his words are lies, the bulge in his pants sure isn't. You feel drunk, and not from the alcohol. Eddie's kiss had you feeling reckless. Naughty. Young. 
"I overheard your little conversation earlier," you admit, scooching closer to him on the couch. Faces an inch apart, Eddie's torn between pouncing or running. So are you. 
"Yeah, you weren't supposed to hear that. Kinda glad you did." 
That makes you braver. All thought has gone, and the pounding need in between your legs has you losing all inhibitions as you lean towards his neck.
"Do you want me, Eddie?" You purr into his ear, nipping at the lobe with your teeth. 
"Uh, like, yeah. Yes, o-of course" He replies shakily, hand restless against your thigh. 
"You're trembling Eddie" it's your turn to smirk, lips dragging against his throat, "you've been with a woman before, right?" You know he has, but you can't help teasing him a little. 
Yes, a dozen, but none like you. 
"Y-yeah, I'm not a virgin, if th-that's what you're asking." 
Get it the fuck together Munson. 
"Then why are you nervous?" 
"Girls don't make me nervous. You make me nervous" He laughs, with absolute honesty in his words. 
With a flick of your eyes to his lips, you cradle his jaw. Eddie can't wait a second longer, he's about to burst. He takes a breath, grabs you by the hip, and presses a hard kiss to your mouth. 
The first one was a test, an examination. This one is pure desire, neediness etched into the marrow of his bones. Yet you're the one to deepen the kiss, mouth opening up to him, your tongue running over his with fervour. Lust is rolling off the pair of you, filling the room with its sultry fog.
Impatience gets the best of him, he needs you closer, so he yanks you into his lap, hands grabbing hard to your hips. Gasping into his mouth at the sudden dominance, you let him lead. His kiss is burning you, hot and heavy. Your hips start grinding into his lap of their own accord, each movement inching your dress higher and higher. 
Eddie rolls it up and over your ass so your red lace panties are on display, dress bunching at your waist. His hands are all over you, feeling at your thighs, your hips, your ass, kneading at the dough of your flesh desperately. 
Each grope, each bruising squeeze of his fingertips has you panting in his mouth, your hands winding into his loose locks, tugging. 
The kisses are becoming sloppier, allegedly immovable lipstick starting to smear on Eddie's face. You're biting at his bottom lip, grinding hard against his clothed dick; Eddie feels like he's died and gone to heaven. 
He tugs at your dress urgently, coaxing you to wriggle it up your frame and fling it away. 
The sight of you in your matching bra and panty set is enough to stop him in his tracks. It's gorgeous satin and lace, one of many you have. Even Eddie can see this is expensive. He runs his hands up and down your sides, drinking it in as if it were his last day on Earth. 
You allow him the few moments he takes to worship you with his eyes. If anything you're enjoying it as much as he is, his hungry stare fuelling your ego. 
"See something you like?" You tease, fingernails dragging across his neck. 
"Fuck yeah" comes his breathy response, pulling down a cup of your bra roughly, his mouth finding your nipple and sucking. 
Throwing your head back, you let out an unadulterated moan. You grab the hem of his shirt and tug it upwards. He gets the message, wrestling it off of his toned frame and throwing it away as if he's exasperated with clothes. Relishing in this new uncharted territory, your hands run all over his skin, tracing tattoos and freckles, fingernails leaving evidence of your desire. 
"Sorry, I just need to-" instead of telling you, he shows you, standing up with you grasped firmly at the hips. You think for a moment that he's going to take you upstairs, but he's pressing you down gently to the floor, lips and tongue tasting your neck, playfully licking over your collarbone. 
Eddie needs to know what your pussy tastes like; he's been dreaming of this for as long as he can remember. The thought of you unravelling because of him has him twitching in his pants. 
So, he makes his way down your torso, mapping your skin with his tongue. You're just so reactive; each time he laps and sucks at you a breathy gasp comes spilling from perfect painted lips.  
It's driving you crazy, his mouth is setting each patch of skin aflame, burning with passion. You're surprised by his movements as his mouth trails lower and lower. It looks like he's taking every enjoyment in tasting you, and the way he wiggles to get between your spread legs makes you realise he's going to go down on you. That is what's so surprising; you've never had a man who did that without some serious coaxing, let alone one who seemed to really want to. 
Now you're not self conscious by any means; you've grown to be very comfortable with your body, the feeling just comes with age. You can't help but be a little worried however, when Eddie reaches the stretch marks on your tummy. Little lightning strikes, lighter than the rest of your skin. You're not embarrassed, those little marks on your stomach and thighs are signs of your two beautiful boys. What's troubling you is the fact that Eddie can't have possibly seen any before, at least like this. What if they disgust him? 
It seems you needn't have worried. Eddie's in awe, running his fingers over the soft skin of the scars. He plants a kiss over the top and watches your muscles tense up. 
It's not that he likes them, or dislikes them for that matter; it's the fact that they are real. You're real, and in front of him in your underwear, and they ground him to the fact that this is actually happening. 
Reaching the hem of your panties he's torn between taking them off or not; you're just so damn pretty in them. He settles for running his tongue along the seam making you moan. You, Sammy's mom, moaning underneath him. He'd pinch himself if he didn't think it would spoil the mood. 
"You can take them off if you want baby." 
"Can I just, move them to the side? You're so fuckin' pretty like this." 
"Sure" you nod at him. He does so and nearly dies at the sight. Seems everything about you is thought of, down to your manicured nails, waxed legs, and bikini wax. The little patch of hair left is driving Eddie fucking crazy. 
He wastes no more time and runs his tongue through your folds, lapping at you like a man possessed. You taste exquisite, a flavour Eddie will remember for the rest of his life. It has him groaning into you, the vibration tingling over your clit making you writhe under him.
He's trying to map what you like, what makes you whimper, what makes you buck into his mouth. You can tell he's trying, really trying, but you know what you need. 
"Eddie, oh fuck, use, use the flat of your tongue," as he changes his tongue shape and rhythm, you wind your fingers into his hair and tug him right where you need him, "Oh God fuck, right there!" 
Yes fucking ma'am. 
Eddie's birthdays, Christmases, Easters, fuck it, all the holidays, have come at once. You are using him for your pleasure, riding his face. His dick is so swollen it's almost painful; he's rutting into the carpet like a teenager, the seam on his jeans not nearly providing enough friction.  
The pleasure is coursing through your veins, throbbing inside your stomach and thighs as you take what you need, fingers pulling hard at his hair. 
The moan that rips from your chest when Eddie pushes two fingers into your soaking wet cunt is pornographic, long and loud. He curls them upward, stroking incessantly at your g spot and spots appear in your vision. The last coherent thought you have is, fuck he really knows what he's doing. 
"Eddie!" 
You come with a strangled scream of his name, then it's all just white light and searing ecstasy as you ride out your orgasm. Your pulse and the feel of Eddie's hair taut in your fingers are the only things keeping you on planet Earth. 
Eddie just about holds it together, fingers working you through your release. You screamed his name. He almost came in his pants right then and there. The sound of you screaming his name is now a new core memory. He's sure he will replay it in his head many times with his fist on his cock.
Your back finally touching the carpet again, you tear Eddie's head away from your pussy and coax him none too gently upward. He hovers over your mouth, a little worried about kissing you when his face is covered with your release, but that worry turns into shock when you push his head forcefully towards yours and slip your tongue in his mouth. 
You can't help but moan at the taste of yourself in his mouth. The moan sounds low in your throat, buzzing into Eddie's mouth so low he feels it in his dick. Seems you weren't lying when you said mommy is dirty too. 
Suddenly Eddie's world turns sideways as you flip him onto his back, pushing his thighs apart with your knee. His scent, the feel of his skin, it's intoxicating. Before you realise what you're doing, you're sucking a love bite into the side of his neck, hard. 
Mine. 
Trailing lips and manicured nails down his torso, you pause at the fly of his jeans. You look up at him through your lashes. 
"This OK Eddie?" 
"Erm… oh God yes?" 
You giggle girlishly, flicking the button of his jeans undone and unzipping the fly gently. Relishing in the moment, you guide him to lift his hips and pull his jeans and boxers down slowly, unwrapping him like a gift.  
And what a fucking gift. 
As you pull his jeans and underwear down to his knees, his hardened cock springs out, coming to rest on his abdomen. It's big, the biggest you think you've seen in real life. Blushing a pretty pink at the tip, a pearl of pre cum sits on the slit at the top. 
Eddie takes your stillness as judgement, he can't help but fill in the silence. 
"Sorry, it's er, it's not like, impressive or anything- oh fuck" 
His apologies are interrupted when you take the tip in your mouth, sucking up the pre cum that glistens there. You roll the tip around your mouth, amazed at the fact he tastes so good. 
Breaking away with a pop, you reply, looking at him as you fist his length slowly with one hand. 
"Eddie, you're really, really big." 
"Really?" He doesn't look convinced, leaning up on his elbows to look at you. 
"Really. You're huge Eddie." 
"Yeah?" An edge of disbelief coats his voice, but he's smiling. 
"Biggest I've seen." 
Eddie's smile is damn near splitting his face in half. 
"So, could I get that in writing or- Jesus fuckin' Christ!" 
You take him in your mouth again, fitting as much as you can, fisting the rest in your hand. The groans and whimpers coming from Eddie's mouth are downright obscene. The wetter you get him, the louder he gets, so you dribble purposely all over your fist, letting it drip down to his balls. 
Eddie's eyes keep trying to roll back but he won't let them, he refuses. He needs to see this, to see you. The slick sounds your hand and mouth are creating are making him fizz from the inside out, each movement is making him want to blow his load in that perfect practised mouth. 
Sammy's mom is sucking my fucking dick dry. 
He's trying to get his head around this impossible situation but it's so outlandish he wants to laugh. Or cry. Or scream. He settles on moaning, hand resting on the back of your head, stroking encouraging circles. 
"Fuck, you're- you're too good at this, holy shit!" 
Relinquishing his length with a sodden wet noise, you fist his length, running your thumb over his tip and lapping at his balls. Taking one in your mouth and playfully sucking, he nearly busts right then and there. 
"OK sweetheart, I-I can't hold back if you, fuck, if you d-do that-" 
You finally unhand him with a cheeky smile and straddle him, your underwear the only barrier between your sex and his throbbing length. 
"You OK there champ?" You ask, a mischievous grin plastered all over your face as you drag your perfect nails down his chest. 
"Y-yeah, I'm fine, I-" Eddie grabs your hand, stopping you in your tracks, "Please give me a minute, please." 
Eddie's eyes are big, wide and wet. Almost like a lost puppy. You're torn between wanting to hold him close, look after him, and fucking him hard until he cries. 
Suddenly he looks concerned, eyes growing impossibly wider. 
"I don't have, a-a condom or anything-" 
You chuckle lowly, bringing his hand to your lips, kissing softly at his knuckles. 
"Eddie, baby, I had my tubes tied years ago. It's OK. If it's OK with you?" 
Holy shit. Sammy's mom wants to ride me raw. Jesus Christ. 
His head is spinning; he realises he's nodding so hard he may have whiplash. You smirk at his response, the rigorous nodding and wide eyed look is just doing something to your insides; twisting them up, making you hungry. 
Maybe that's why you do what you do. You wink at him, and swing your leg over, pushing your underwear to the side once again. Though this time, you're straddling him backwards, round ass on display as you tease the head of his cock with your soaking wet lips. 
As you sink down onto him, you hear the guttural moan that strikes out from his soul almost, travelling swiftly to your core. He's big, you weren't lying. You feel each vein, each ridge, as you seat yourself fully onto his cock. 
This boy has no idea what he's packing. 
Jesus Christ, the spots this impressive length can reach are unreal. You bounce on him slowly, revelling in the stretch. He's throbbing underneath you, inside you. The sensation makes you moan wantonly, feeling sexier than you've felt in years. 
Eddie's mesmerised by your ass, watching it bounce on his dick, drooling at the shake of it when it plunges back down. His eyes are drawn to your tight hole, half hidden by the pricey underwear that still adorns you. Just a tiny slip of lace hugged in your ass cheeks. 
He's already pushed his luck; he's well aware of that fact. The arousal pumping through him has him throwing caution to the wind however, so he sucks his thumb, getting it nice and wet, and pushes it against your asshole.
It surprises you, sure, but you're moaning louder at his bold move. 
Eddie's reeling, dizzy at your reaction. He was expecting at least for you to just slap his hand away, but if anything you speed up and make even more noise. Fuck, if you could get more perfect, you just did. He pushes his digit in, feeling you clench around it, riding him for all he's worth. 
"Oh fuck, Eddie!" 
It's too much for you to take, being filled in both holes, riding him hard and fast until your vision is blurring and spots are in your eyes. Your release startles you, a fuzzy feeling filling you up from the inside out and exploding from your cunt in a gush. 
Reality seeps in as you come down from your high; pain in your knees searing up your leg. 
"Sweetheart, I need to get on top, please." 
It's a relief you're not prepared to admit to as you climb off, legs twitching and knackered. 
Near collapsing on the floor, Eddie's on you, falling in his excitement. He's forgotten his jeans are still woven around his ankles. He kicks them off and slides between your spread legs. 
"Can I take your panties off now sweetheart?" 
What he's not saying, is he really doesn't want to miss what might be the only time he gets to see you naked. You oblige, lifting up your hips so he can wrestle the sodden garment off you. 
As if you can hear his prayers, you unhook your bra too, flinging it toward the couch. Eddie's nearly having a heart attack; it's hammering hard in his chest, the only thing stopping it from bursting out is his ribcage. The sight of you, nude, beneath him? It's unravelling him in a way he didn't know was possible. 
So he loses it for a moment, burying his head in the valley of your breasts, licking and sucking as if his life depended on it. Your nipples stand to attention at his ministrations, yet your core hums at the lack of attention. 
"Eddie, please, I need you inside me." 
Fuck this is unreal. She's so beautiful and she's begging for me. Feels like a dream. 
But it's not a dream. He's pressing his quivering length against you again and your pussy is swallowing him up as if it's hungry for him. 
You let him in, his hard member spearing you, humping into you hard and rough. You groan against him, fingernails finding leverage in his broad shoulders. 
His arms hook under your sweaty knees, pulling them hard against your torso, angling himself to fuck into you mercilessly. 
"Fuck, you feel- so fuckin' good" He stammers out, slamming his hips into you. 
You're beyond words, screaming his name like it's the only word you know. 
"You gonna come again? Please, fuck, please come, I need it, I need it baby please" His babbling words fire out at you, driving you ceaselessly to another orgasm. 
Fingers wind between your heaving forms, running urgent circles over your clit. They slip and slide against your sodden nub, desperately seeking to get you to that precipice. You moan, and moan, and finally clench and scream his name, voice hard, burning in your throat.
Eddie can't take it, not the way your cunt is grabbing onto him so tightly, constricting his dick as if it's afraid he'll leave. He stutters his hips and grunts his own release deep into you. 
For a minute he doesn't stop, He refuses to stop. He doesn't want it to be over. So, he fucks his cum into you until it's impossible to continue and finally comes up for air. 
You envelop his lips into a suffocating kiss, swollen lips and tongue and spit. Messy and passionate, he returns it, glad that you still want to kiss him at the end of all things. 
Though, you don't want it to be over. His touch, his feel, his taste, you could soak it up, roll around in it forever, wrap yourself in his arms and stay. A mad thought. A maddening thought. 
Eddie slips from inside you making you frown at the loss. His smile is soaked in mischief however, as he starts to kiss down your front again, burying his head in the deep valley of your breasts, tongue lathering over the supple flesh and moving downwards. 
He's never, ever, felt the need to taste himself on another. As a matter of fact, if you had told him yesterday he would feel the desperate urge to press his tongue into a pussy that is dripping with his own cum he would have laughed in your face. But, this is your pussy. Your tight wet cunt, and he needs to taste it. He needs it like he needs air to breathe. For a second he stares up at you with big soulful eyes. 
"I wanna taste what we made." 
His words are shooting into the pulse spilling from your core.
"Really?" Your words drip in perplexity, amazed that any man would want that, but the thought lingers, making you realise that you want that. 
No further time wasted, he dives into your dripping core, tongue dragging through your aching lips. For a moment it's too much, until it drops into pleasure; pleasure that you sink into, melting under his touch. 
Eddie laps furiously at your clit, both of your releases dripping from his chin. He sinks thick fingers inside, squelching into your soft heat. 
Wordlessly, he takes his fingers out and reaches them up to your face. His eyes are trained on you, flat of his tongue rubbing against your swollen nub. 
Hesitantly, you take in the sight of his sticky fingers, before you take them into your mouth, sucking and hollowing your cheeks. The taste is indescribable; it's salty, sweet, tangy, each separate flavour hitting your tongue differently, fuelling your desires.
You're making Eddie's dreams come true with that gesture. Your trust in him, your filthiness, the way your tongue works against his fingers, it's all shooting to his heart, and his cock. He's impossibly hard again, groaning into your cunt. 
Another release is speeding toward you. You can feel yourself hurtling towards it, free falling into ecstasy. You grip around his wrist, fingers digging bruises into the tendons as your orgasm rushes out of you in a string of curse words. 
He moves back up your body and you envelop his slicked lips in a firm kiss. To your surprise, you can feel his hard member digging into your thigh. It's been a long time since you've been with anyone who couldn't go more than one round before rolling over and falling asleep. The joys of youth. 
"You OK Eddie?" You ask between breath-taking kisses. 
"OK? I'm fucking amazing sweetheart. Feel like I just won the lottery or something" He huffs a laugh, nudging the tip of his nose with yours. 
"You, erm-" you begin, feeling almost embarrassed, "-you wanna go again?" 
"Oh hell yeah." 
His tip is already begging at your entrance but you place a firm hand to his chest, stilling his movements. 
"Eddie, upstairs? My back is killing me." You admit it, the hard floor giving you aches and pains. 
"Fuck, yeah, sorry. Come on" practically leaping up, he holds out his hand to you and you grasp it in yours. You giggle at his eagerness, the sight of him stark naked leaping up the stairs three at a time stoking your amusement. 
This might be inappropriate, it might be a bit wrong, but damn, this is fun. Having someone desire you so much, who wants to fuck you over and over? Morals can kick in tomorrow. Tonight, you have a gorgeous young man aching to give you more. 
********************
"Hey, you still here?" 
You look up, distracted from your musings of last night. God, that boy had some stamina. 
"Huh?" 
"Wow, that date must have been good! You going to spill? Come on, tell me about it!" 
Blushing, you sip the glass of wine in front of you. Karen Wheeler had popped round unannounced with a bottle and you were sitting around your kitchen table whilst she grilled you about why you were smiling so much. She would lose her shit if she knew who you were smiling about. 
"I mean, I can't really talk about it." You mumble around your glass. 
"Oh God, why? Oh, he's married, I bet he's married! You naughty thing!" Her words are admonishing, but her cheeks are glowing. She's loving every minute of this. 
Why not? At least that would explain it away. 
"Yeah, he's married." 
"Oh my you're terrible!" She cackles, laughing. "How was he?" 
"I don't know what you're talking about Karen." 
"Oh, come on you're practically glowing! I know that look" She says, nodding sagely. 
"OK, look" You say, taking a gulp of wine for composure and a deep breath before it rushes out of your mouth in a torrid whisper. 
"It was fucking incredible, like toe curling incredible, you know? And he just kept going, I mean, honestly? The best I've ever had." 
Karen coughs and nods pointedly behind you. Glancing over your shoulder, you see him. 
Eddie. Fuck. 
He's standing there nonchalantly, leaning on the doorframe with a Cheshire cat grin. 
"Sorry for the interruption, just grabbing a couple beers." 
He bounces into the kitchen and fetches two beers from the fridge. 
"Me and Sammy are just working on the campaign. I'll er, leave you ladies to it." 
He practically skips out the room, leaving you red faced. 
"That Eddie?" You nod, face red as a beetroot. 
"He's grown up, hasn't he?" 
You steer away from this line of questioning, mortified that he heard what you said. 
"Only on the outside. You want a top up?" She agrees with a grin as you fill her glass up and she regales you with all the poolside gossip. When the bottle is done, she leaves with a wink, saying she'll keep your secret. If she only knew what that was. 
Eddie's on cloud nine right now, bouncing up the stairs three at a time. 
The best she's ever had. The best she's ever had. 
It's in his mind, playing in a loop. His mantra, a quote that will live deep in his chest from now until forever after. 
The best she's ever had. 
He flings the door open and flounces into Sammy's room, banging a beer down on the bedside table. 
"A beverage for you, good fellow!" 
"Aha! Fine work m'lord!" Sammy twists the cap off, tossing it in the bin. Eddie does the same, twisting to face the waste paper basket, and takes a long swig. 
"Eddie you dirty fuck." 
He freezes, ice pouring down his spine. Spinning on his heel, he turns to face Sammy.
"What are you on about?" He asks, a fake smile masking the fear that had bottomed out in his stomach. 
"I see the panties you've got in your back pocket, red ones. They're poking out! Dude, did you get lucky last night?" Sammy smirks, swigging his own beer.
He couldn't help himself. He swiped them when he was leaving. They were still wet, soaked with a mixture of his spit and your release. He'd sniffed them and got himself off twice this morning. 
Chill out. Sammy's grinning. He's got no clue who they belong to. 
Eddie relaxes and grins smugly back, laying on the floor, his back against the bed. 
"Oh, you have no idea." 
********************
Humming to yourself, you sort through the dirty clothes in the laundry room, separating darks and lights. 
Your thoughts drift yet again to that messy haired rocker. His large hands, his tight torso, his dick. Fuck, his dick. 
Shaking your head, you do what you can to rid your brain of your salacious thoughts, loading the washer a little more forcefully than you necessarily needed to. 
You hear the unmistakable click of the door behind you. Not bothering to turn, you huff as you shut the washer lid with a bang. 
"I swear to God Sammy if you need a shirt for tonight I've already-" 
"Hey sweetheart." 
Flipping to face the door, there he is. Arms folded across his slender chest, smug smirk spread stickly across his features, he stares at you. 
"Eddie, you need to leave." 
Your tone is stern, but your bottom lip disappears into your mouth, being nibbled at by your teeth. 
"You sure? Thought you might wanna see me. You know, since I'm the best you ever had." 
"Eddie shut the fuck up!" You hiss between your teeth, eyes flashing to the door. 
"Sweetheart, Sammy's fallen asleep. He had a long night. You know what that's like." 
"Eddie, that was a one time thing. God, it's not like this can go anywhere, so why are you here?" 
Tapping your foot impatiently, he closes the gap between you, cornering you between the wall and the washing machine. 
You want to be angry; to push him away and leave, but the pounding of your pulse between your legs betrays you. 
As if he knows, he slots his leg between yours, denim clad thigh hovering near your throbbing heat, pushing your sundress up in the process. 
"I know. Fuck, I'm well aware. I just wanna- help you out. Like, an arrangement" He smiles, knuckles reaching up to stroke your cheek. 
"Eddie-" 
Before you manage to form words, he's on his knees in front of you, large palms running over your bare thighs. 
"Please." 
That's all he says, wet doe eyes wide, gleaming up at you as if you were some sort of goddess and he was kneeling at your altar. 
Eddie's begging to the old Gods and the new; fuck it, to anyone who might be listening. He wants you, with everything he has. Each fibre is burning for you. He thought it might go away after last night, but it was simply a taste. A drop of water doesn't quench an undying thirst. 
This little sundress is doing nothing to sate his hunger for you. The flimsy material clings in all the right places, forcing his eyes to trail over your curves like a man starved. 
Without a thought in your head, you wind your fingers into Eddie's hair, relishing the feel of his hot breath on your naked thighs. Guiding his head forward, you shudder as his lips trace across your flesh. 
Eddie lifts your dress up, reaching desperately to pull your panties off and away before you change your mind. Slick sticking to them, he pulls them down, watching as they gradually peel from your core. 
He sits on his heels, eyes flitting from your eyes to your cunt. 
"Sweetheart, please. I just wanna- I wanna help you with your needs. Fuck, with my needs." 
Nodding emphatically, you tug at his hair, drawing him in. 
Eddie counts his blessings and dives straight at your pussy, lapping between the folds just like you taught him. 
"Oh God" you moan aloud, then bite at your hand to stop your noises. Flicking one leg over his shoulder, you force his head as close as you can, nearly riding his face. 
If anything, Eddie is a quick learner, at least when it comes to you. 
His tongue is electric, hitting all of the right spots. He feels your cunt on his tongue, leaving hot and heavy licks. Running his hand up your thigh again, he presses his thumb against your clenching hole, wiggling into your slick drenched pussy. 
"Eddie, yes!" You whisper, fingers pulling at his curls incessantly. Eyes rolling back, you rut your hips into him, on the brink of falling apart.
White hot light sears your eyelids as you  come with a stifled cry, cunt undulating around his thick digit. 
"Fuckfuckfuck!" 
Yanking his head away from you by the roots of his hair, you cannot fail to hear the unmistakable moan that spills from his lips. 
Eddie's staring up at you dumbfounded, as if you created the universe just for him. 
Panting, you stare back down at him, his lips parted and shining with your orgasm. 
"Eddie, holy hell." 
He stands, wiping the slick from his face with the back of his hand, though it does nothing to remove the grin. 
Against every better judgement, you grab him by the shirt and pull him closer, lips nearly touching. 
"You- you can't tell anyone about this, OK? Not a soul, understood?" 
If it were possible, his grin grows even wider, palm resting at your waist. 
"I can be discreet." He whispers as he presses his lips to yours. Winding fingers into his hair, you deepen the kiss, tongue moving expertly between his parted lips to taste him, and you. 
Eddie pulls away reluctantly. 
"I better go." 
As he moves to the door, hand hovering over the handle, you call out to him. 
"Eddie, wait." 
Turning his head, he looks at you. 
"Sammy's seeing Tiff again tonight, and er, Johnny's still at his grandma's." 
"Good to know." He winks and leaves. What you don't know is that he does a mini victory dance once the door is shut, fists pumping in the air with sheer joy. 
He doesn't know how long this is going to last, but he'll take every single second he can get with you whilst you let him. 
Taglist (just some likely candidates ;) )
@cursedyuta @eddiesprincess86 @munson-blurbs @rip-quizilla @emsgoodthinkin @josephquinnsfreckles @zestychili @eddiemunsons-missingnipple @eiightysixbaby @lightvixxen @ali-r3n @usedtobecooler @roanniom
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dellalyra · 9 months
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ʀᴏꜱʏ ᴘɪɴᴋ - ɢᴏᴊᴏ ꜱᴀᴛᴏʀᴜ
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pixie says: another request from my wife @soraya-daydreams coming thru with an absolute banger. family formations or can be standalone <3
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“Y/N!” Came a scream from down the hall.
You were almost asleep, bed so comfortable and sheets so soft until your door flung open and three bodies stood in the entrance before barging in.
“Shoko stop bullying Satoru.” You reflexively reply.
“Y/N! Thank god you’re here! A voice of reason! These two,” Satoru says, pointing to Geto and Shoko beside him “are trying to get me to dye my hair!”
You just look between the three of them. Geto is on your desk chair, fiddling with your pencils. Shoko is perched on the desk beside him and Satoru has flung himself face down on the foot of your bed.
“Okay, and… you don’t want to?” You ask.
“Why? Do you think I should?” Satoru asks, and you wonder why Geto and Shoko snicker.
“It’s your hair, Satoru! If you wanted to you could do a temporary dye in like - a really fun colour. Like the pink in the ends of my hair!” You wave your strands at him.
“See! I told you she would like the idea! C’mon Gojo, let us dye your hair.” Shoko pleads.
“You won’t even need’ta bleach it or anything, man.” Geto chimes in.
“But guys! My white hair is like - my thing!” Gojo is flailing his arms.
“I thought your eyes were your thing?” Geto questions.
“I have many things!” The muffled voice replies.
“Y/N, what do you think?” Geto prompts.
“Why am I the deciding factor?”
“Because Satoru would jump into a burning building if you asked him to.” Shoko adds, blunt as ever.
You blush and hear a weak attempt at a protest from the end of your bed.
You’ve no idea where your friends got this idea that Satoru is interested in you the way your are him but they seemingly won’t let it go.
“I think it would be fun - but Satoru chooses the colour. Is that okay, Satoru?” You poke him.
“Okay.” He says, lifting his head from your comforter.
“Cool! Shoes on then. Let’s go.” You say, swinging your legs out of bed.
“Where on earth can we get hair dye at 10pm?”
So that’s how you ended up at a 24 hour store checkout at 10.30pm with your three best friends. After much deliberation, a temporary box dye was found that would last about 6 washes and wouldn’t stain. Satoru was being uncharacteristically sheepish about the colour he chose, keeping the box close to his chest, until he dropped it and you picked it up to see the top of the box was a soft, rosy pink.
Your favourite colour.
You handed it to him, blushing as he looks straight at you.
“It’s gonna look really nice on you, ‘toru.” You say, smiling softly.
The two behind you gag at the sweet exchange.
At 11pm, Satoru was sitting on your desk chair - towel on his shoulders as you and Geto worked the pink through his white hair - Shoko (the instigator) sitting on your bed.
“Okay! Koko, set a timer for 10 minutes.” You say, pulling the gloves off your hands.
“What happens in 10 minutes?” Satoru asks.
“We wash your hair!”
“Wait?! You need to shower with me?! At least buy a guy a drink first, Princess.” He smirks at you and you roll your eyes.
“No, you incorrigible man. Just your hair. Plus, you don’t drink.”
Finding a way to wash his hair was a logistical nightmare since everyone insisted on being in the room but Satoru’s long limbs were difficult to contain - but eventually, the shower head was rinsing pink streams down the drain and his head was free of dye. You wrapped a towel over his head and told him to go style it how he normally would.
He proceeds to shake his head and say “I just let it dry?”.
Which sickens you.
He’s just that perfect, that beautiful - naturally?
What an asshole.
He turns to take the towel off and looks at you three and you melt inside.
His blue eyes shine in excitement as your face turns the colour of his now rosy pink hair.
Seeing him decked out in your favourite colour? Did all kinds of things to you - though it would never compare to his natural, snowflake coloured hair that visits your dreams each night. That will always be your favourite, because it’s a sign of your ‘Toru.
“Look at this marshmallow man!” Shoko says, jumping to try and ruffle his hair.
“Marshmallow?!” Satoru says, spinning to the mirror.
“Bro - that actually looks really good. I like it. Turned out real nice. What do you think, lil’ lady?” Suguru says, turning to you.
“I love it.” You say, hands clasped under your chin.
You didn’t just mean the hair.
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l0serloki · 4 months
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omg i just got to know u write for jjk too!! I originaly was following you because of your valorant stuff and i love your writing style and those cute gifs you add at the start of every post <3
If its not alot can you please make some short drabbles/headcannons for the jjk men (gojo, geto, nanami, toji, sukuna, choso, megumi) where its late at night you are all cuddled up and you hear something from downstairs, the man get all protective thinking its an intruder and go check it out. ( you can make it an actual intruder and add a lil fight scene or make it a racoon or a stray cat and make it cute its upto u)
Im sorry if i sound wierd english is not my first language 😅
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Intruder Alert
(Gojo, Geto, Nanami, Todo, Sukuna, Choso, Megumi)
A/N : UMMM first off I read Toji as Todo soo.. sorry about that one. Second off thank you so much for the request!! I kinda made these more cracked out than I expected them to be.. I hope you still enjoy and I can always do more if you want.
CW : intruders (duh), casual murder (geto), gojo being an ominous being, Sukuna being on top of you as you wake up
masterlist
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Gojo : 
    Your body was cuddled against your boyfriend as you tried to sleep. As quickly as sleep came, it left. There was a sudden noise downstairs that made you jump.
“What was that?!” Gojo turned to you, scratching at his face. 
“I don’t know. It sounded like something downstairs.” You whisper out and the blue eyed freak groaned.
“Don’t worry babe. I’ll go check it out. There’s no need to be scared.” Gojo grabbed at your hand pulling you out of the warm sheets.
“If you’re going to check it out, why are you taking me along with you?” You deadpanned as he corralled you down the stairs. 
“Because babe if I die then you need to avenge me.” Gojo whispered out as he peeked around the corner. His eyes surveyed the kitchen as he crept in.
“Coast is clear- HOLY SHIT!” Gojo fell back, crawling to your feet. You watched as a raccoon jumped down from the counter, scurrying back outside from the open porch door. 
“Satoru, why did you leave the backdoor open..?” You rolled your eyes as you helped the ‘strongest’ man to his feet.
“I thought you did.” He grinned as he got up and wrapped his arm around your shoulder. 
“Why am I with you?” You chided and he just pouted.
“So mean..”
Geto : 
   “There’s a noise Sugu..” You whisper out as you adjust in his arms. Your eyes stare up at him as he scrolls through the TV.
“It’s probably nothing Y/N. Don’t worry.” He rubbed at your head as he continued to mindlessly stare. You heard steps creeping as you continued to lay there. You couldn’t help but feel anxious and definitely with the warrant out for your boyfriends head.
“Suguru, someone is in the house.” You plead. He only rolls his eyes as he shuffles around in bed. 
“You’re fine-” His eyes widen as the door slams open, a tall man standing in the wake.
“Geto Suguru, it’s nice to finally meet you.” His grin is wicked and you crawl closer to Suguru out of fear.
“It’s not smart breaking into my house, you know.” He grabs at your form and pulls you up. Curses forming behind the estranged man as Geto frowns. 
“Personal preference really. I don’t get why people consider you that strong.” The man shrugs as he gets closer and you flinch as a punch flies past your face. One of his many curses attach to the mans fist. 
“Pathetic. At least I know I need to replace the lock.” Geto rolls his eyes as the man screams in agony, his head exploding from the pressure of the curse.
“Are you okay darling?” Geto bends down to run his hand across your cheek, placing a soft kiss on your forehead. “I’m sorry I didn’t listen to your warnings before. I’ll be more observant for you.” He leaves another peck as he sets you down against the plush pillows of the bed. 
“Give me a moment to clean up and we can cuddle, okay?” 
You only nod as you shake from the violent attack. You knew you were always safe with him but that didn’t make you worry any less. But at the end of the day, you still had him.
“Okay.” You lean in to give him one more kiss as he goes to clean up the ‘leftovers’.
Nanami : 
  You were cradled in Nanami’s arms as you heard rustling around. Nanami gripped tighter at you as the noises became louder. 
“Kento..” You mumbled out. His soft snores filled the room as you tried to wake him up. You squirmed around in his arms trying to get his attention. A scream left your lips as a harsh knock on the bedroom door filled the silence.
Nanami whipped straight up, gripping at his cleaver that sat on the bedside table. 
“Y/N what’s wrong?” He placed a quick kiss against your forehead as another knock sounded at the door. You gave him a scared look and he squeezed your hand.
“Nanami, are you there? I just got done giving Megumi his gift so if you could open up..!” Gojo’s voice filled the silence and you let out a giant sigh. Of course it was Gojo.
“Gojo, what are you thinking sneaking into peoples houses at 3 am. Regardless of time there is a thing called privacy.” Nanami swung the door open, berating the special grade as he started to push him out. Gojo gave you a thumbs up as he sat the gift bag on the chair and continued to struggle against the blondes hold.
“Try the lemon flavor Y/N! I think you will like it!” Gojo calls out as Nanami shuts the door on his face and sighs. He comes back over to the bed, his face worn down as he falls into his pillow. You couldn’t help but laugh at the buffoonery that unfolded.
“Ken are you okay?” You rubbed at his back. He only groaned as he peeked up from the comfort of the bed.
“Can we pretend that never happened?” 
Todo : 
Todo’s face was buried against your chest as he snored. You ran your fingers through his hair as you continued to mindlessly scroll through your phone. You heard noises creaking against the floorboards which attracted your attention.
“What the hell?” You pushed the large man off your chest and stood up to go check out the noise. 
“Huh..? Y/N..” Todo’s hand yanked you back towards the bed, his eyes pleading for you to continue cradling him. 
“There’s someone there Aoi. You have to let me check.” You push his hands away much to his dismay and move to leave the bedroom. His body moves quicker than yours, ripping away at the door.
“Is someone there!?” 
There was a scuttle from a thief grabbing at some of your belongings, his hands flying up as Todo stomped through the hall.
“How dare you ruin my time with Y/N?! I am disgusted!” Todo grabs the thief by his shirt and tears open the window. 
“Todo, the vase!” You screech as your vase teeters and he throws the man out the window, grabbing the nice china in time.
“Stupid. Now let’s go back to the bedroom.” He dusts himself off as he grabs you with one arm and makes his way back into the room.
“Maybe we should check the door..” You gasp against his tight hold as you try to process what just happened.
“The door should try and check me!” He gloats as he places you gently on the bed, still worked up from having his precious time taken from him.
Sukuna : 
    Your body slid in the sheets as you felt hands gripping at your face. Your eyes slowly opened and adjusted to see the beast on top of you. 
“What-” You struggled to speak as his hand pushed your cheeks together.
“Such pretty lips. All for me?” He grinned as you smacked his chest. Sadly this was a recurring theme with the two of you. Whenever Yuji lost control you always somehow had Sukuna trailing close behind you. And although you weren’t particularly happy waking up to such intrusions, you didn’t mind it either.
“Cmon.” Your voice is garbled as he pets your skin and grins.
“No scream for the intruder? I’m disappointed.” He slaps your cheek lightly, not enough to harm you but just enough to wake you up.
“You’re a piece of shit.” You roll your eyes as he chuckles and pulls you flush against him.
“You like it.”
Choso : 
“Baby.. there’s something outside.” Your eyes barely peek above his arm as you hear the scratching at the window. Choso just groaned and pulled you tighter into his embrace.
“It’s okay. Just sleep..” His voice was hoarse as he patted your head. You couldn’t help but still feel anxious, tugging at him to wake up.
“Please..” You jolted as another harsh slap hit the window. Choso sat up and made an annoyed face.
“Who would be stupid enough to come here?” He stomped out of the bed and over to the window. He ripped at the curtains and opened the window. 
“You think it’s funny-” Choso starts only to get backhanded by the tree arm that had apparently been smacking the window. Your eyes widened as he wiped at his face, turning to see you laughing hysterically. He let out a small laugh as he rolled his eyes.
“Glad to see you’re not worried anymore.” He slides back into bed, pulling you flush against him. 
“Baby you didn’t close the window.”
“Really..”
Megumi : 
  Your body rested against Megumi’s as you both cuddled against the sheets. It was a cold night and the heater was all but broken. One of your hands rubbed at the fur of the black dog coating you like a blanket while the other rubbed through your boyfriend's hair.
There was a ruckus from downstairs, your body jolting at the sudden noise. The dog seemed to notice as well, sitting up and growling, ready to protect you and Megumi.
“There’s something..” You pushed against your boyfriend and he slowly wiped the sleep out of his eyes. You arms circled around him as his shinigami jumped down from the floor and went to go sniff out said intruder.
“If someones there we will know. Don’t worry.” Megumi stretched as he tried to get into action. He jostled himself out of the comfy position and opened the door. 
“Really.” His voice was deadpan as the dog came back into the room and jumped on you, unfazed. You were confused - there had to be someone if Megumi was talking.
“Hello dearest son! I brought sweets! Oh and hello Y/N!” Gojo gives a wave as he holds a giant bag out.
“Get out.” Megumi rolls his eyes as he pushes the bag away and shuffles the sorcerer back through the house. You could only chuckle at the interaction and hope that Megumi would tell him to knock next time.
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snowyquokka · 4 months
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sᴛʀᴇss ʀᴇʟɪᴇᴠᴇʀ
seungmin x fem!reader
requested by: @jeonginswifesstuff
cw: smut (duh) MDNI, hand kink, soft dom seungmin, oral *f receiving*, fingering, foreplay swearing, uses of ‘pup, bubs, pretty girl, refers reader as a pillow princess, praise, aftercare, established relationship
wc: 0.7k
✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧
“Hi baby,” Seungmin wraps his arms around your waist when he sees you walk through the door.
“Hey,” you mumble. He pulls back and gives you a questioning look “What’s the matter?”
“Nothing,” you shake your head. He rolls his eyes “Bubs, what’s wrong.” you let out a deep sigh. “It’s stupid,” Seungmin cups your cheeks, “I don’t care if it’s stupid or not. It’s bothering you so I want to know.” you close your eyes and rest your forehead on his chest. “I’m just stressed with work and school. I’m tired.”
Seungmin hums and picks you up by your waist and carries you bridal style. “What’re you doing?” you whine. “Min, put me down.”
He carries you to the couch in the living room and sits you down gently. “I wanna help you relax, baby.” Seungmin kneels in front of you with a soft smile, “Can I do that?”
You bite your lip and nod, earning a gentle kiss before Seungmin unbuttons your jeans and slides them off of your legs, throwing them across the room. “Mm, my pretty girl’s already so wet,” he praises before pulling your panties down with his teeth. The sudden cold air against your soaked core forces a gasp out of you.
“Just relax bubs. Tonight’s all about you, okay?” Seungmin has two sides when it comes to having sex: either he’s a really rough, degrading dom, or, like now, he’s a really soft and gentle dom. Though no matter how hard you tried, he’d never let you top him. He likes to call you his ‘pillow princess’
Seungmin spreads your thighs open wider, gaining better access to you. He slides one finger into you and kisses up and down your legs. You catch yourself watching his hand as he adds another finger and pumps in and out of you.
Seungmin doesn’t know about your hand fetish, not because you’re ashamed of it but rather because you really don’t know how to bring it up.
He looks up at you with dark eyes before licking and kissing your clit while his fingers are still in you. Your back arches slightly off the couch and your legs try to close but Seungmin stops them and places his hand on top of your thigh.
As he eats you out he periodically squeezes your thigh and every time he does, you let out the hottest moans he thinks he’s ever heard. He has also noticed you glancing at his hands every time you spit out some kind of profanity mixed in with a whine or a groan which boosts his ego.
He can feel you tightening around his fingers so he adds a third and takes his mouth away, arousal dripping down his chin. “Does my baby like my hands?” you immediately nod your head and moan. “Interesting,” he grins. He begins to rub small and slow circles around your clit while curling his fingers inside your cunt. “You’re clenching around me so much, y/n. Making me think you’d rather have my hands than my mouth, hm?” When you don’t answer his question he slows his fingers.
“Answer me,” he looks into your eyes.
“I- fuck, Min. Yes, yes. Rather have- rather have your fingers.” you cry out.
“Good girl, I think you deserve to come now.”
“Yes, please.” you beg. Seungmin picks his pace back up and rubs your clit faster.
It doesn’t take long for you to come. Seungmin cleans you up, licking all of your juices from your thighs.
He rises from his knees and tilts your chin, opening your mouth. You stick your tongue out and Seungmin places his cum soaked fingers in your mouth.
He watches in awe as you suck every last drop off of him and kiss his palm after. “Fuck baby. You’re so good for me. Let’s get you in the bath, yeah? Afterwards, I can make you some food.”
You nod gratefully and yelp when he picks you up without warning.
Seungmin chuckles and kisses your temple. “You at least feel better?”
“Much. Thank you, Seungie.”
“Anything for my pup. I love you.”
“I love you too.”
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blingblong55 · 6 months
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Video games -Keegan P. Russ NSFW
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A/N: isn't he dreamy?....he's my husband...don't tell the others
Based on a request: Hey so you think you can make a keegan p russ x reader where keegan is playing a video game and not giving reader any attention so to make him give them attention they suck his dick and make him all horny in the end they have sex In some part can you add face fucking and fingering to and of course p in v And last thing can it be a fem!reader thank you for reading this this is my first request so I really hope you can do this ---- F!Reader, smut, MDNI, 18+, oral!sex, unprotected!sex, established!relationship, fingering, face!fucking, P-in-V, gamer!boyfriend ----
A/N: let's thank my guy friend for helping me reenact some parts to write this because in some parts I was dead ass confused on how to explain mental images I had..
Keegan has been playing video games for about two hours. You were downstairs watching some crime show when you noticed the time. "Keegan?" you turn the TV off and walk upstairs. His headset is on as he continues to curse at the screen. Keyboard clicking as you sit on the seat he designated for you. "Babe?" You say again but he can't hear you. You notice how he curses and mumbles words. His frustration grows, he begins to adjust himself on the seat and then he lets out a frustrated groan.
"Fuck…fuck.." he continues to mumble. Your gaze is on his hands as he continues playing, you begin to feel aroused by how he is and his hands. Your warm hands roam your body, trying to call for his attention, "Keegan~" You begin to touch your chest but he still doesn't give you much besides a side glare and a chuckle. "Not now, doll." Your body becomes more aroused and then you get up, walk to him and then get on your knees. Your head rested on the outer side of his leg, eyes big and looking up at him. He looks down and pauses the game, his hands cupping your face, "Just ten more minutes, okay, my love?" he bends down and kisses the top of your forehead.
"But, Keegs-" "My love, just be a good girl and be patient," his tone soft as his gaze goes back to the screen. "Can I be between your legs at least?" "Of course," he shifts and you adjust yourself between his legs. Your pretty face resting on his thighs. His mumbles and curses were still heard, his mates yelling over the headphones and causing him to laugh a few times. Your eyes are on his bulge, a grin as you get an idea. Something he and you have been trying to do for some time, head as he plays a video game. Your hand reaches and begins to rub your hand on his bulge. "What- my love what are you doing?" Your innocent stare and that pouty lip give him an idea and he just lets it happen.
His cock is now in your hands as you lick the tip. "Fuck.." he moans and pushes your head to go further on him. His mates ask for his help as he throws his head back. "Just like that," he looks back down and smiles. Your gaze filled with tears Your head bobbing as your gaze stays on him. "God you're so good," he strokes your hair out of your face. One of your hands on his leg as you try and pull away but he wouldn't let you. You begin to gag, mascara tears run down your face, he wipes them off and then leaves the game. "Fuck…c'mere," he forces you to stand up and throws you to the bed.
"Keegan-" his mouth on yours immediately, rough hands roaming your body, unclothing you and starting to leave marks on you. His cock is hard by the second which leads him to let his fingers move your panties to the side. "Open your mouth," he commands, his fingers inside of your mouth. "Just like that, keep sucking on them." His moans and yours, mix to one. You begin to feel his other hand on your clit, slowly teasing your sensitive tissue. You get more aroused, your hips moving as you feel his thick fingers inside your cunt. You whimper and moan, your fingers on your clit. "So greedy you need more?" he chuckles, fingers out of your cunt as he undoes your bra.
Warm tongue on your hard nipples, your mouth still wrapped around his fingers. "Fuck…Keegan- fuck.." your moans louder as you feel him slap and finger your cunt. Your drool dripping down, that stare of yours only making him want more. He can't take it so he manhandles you into spreading your legs wide open, his hand on your throat as the tip of his cock teases and slaps your entrance. You wrap your hand on his wrist as he begins to slowly thrust inside of you. "Oooh, darlin'…fuck..you're so tight," he moans. His thrusts are slow and delicate, your clit receiving her much-needed attention. He leans forward and moans by your ear.
At this point it was noticeable he didn't care for any video game as he feels the need to own your body over and over. He begins to grin at your cunt with each one of his thrusts. Your once horny approach now brings better pleasure than some toy you'd plan on using. Your eyes are half closed, moans so sweet and soft it makes him want to ruin you more. "You like that?" he says as his thrusts begin to hit your g spot. You close your eyes and Keegan loses control. You begin to clench around him, leaving him with more loud moans and light whimpers.
"Fuck pretty girl," he kisses your neck and once he feels your juices all over his fat cock, he pulls out. Thinking it was over, you reach for the blanket before he once more manhandles your head to the edge of the bed. You look up, gaze hald drunk as you know what's to come. His cock slaps your cheeks before he holds your head and lets his cock fill your small mouth.
Your cunt still throbbing and even more so as he fucks your mouth without mercy. His balls hit your now sticky skin, your moans muffled by his cock. You gag more and let out desperate whimpers but he won't let you out of this so easily. His hips thrusting in and out of your mouth, your throat for sure being sore by the next day. Keegan's hands grip hard on your head, not caring for you since at this moment you were nothing more than a fuck doll to him. His thrusts get more sloppy as his pre-cum begins to drip on your face. He slaps your tits a few times and watches as they jiggle. Your still sensitive cunt in view gives him more reasons to cum.
"Fuck…oh..shit..yes" his moans now low and mumbled. Your eyes leak tears of both pain and pleasure. You can't help but begin to enjoy this. Keegan couldn't contain it anymore. His cum paints your throat white. He out and before you can spit out his entire load he forces your mouth shut, "swallow like a good girl," he commands. You beg with your eyes but it only makes him slap you. "Be good," he warns and slaps you again. Once you swallow his cum, you stick your tongue out and he spits in your mouth. "Swallow it," he says once more and you obey.
"Good girl, r/n." his lips meet your forehead and he carries you back to his side of the bed where he proceeds to cuddle you and whisper more praises.
It was safe to say, the rest of the evening was spent in bed, in the comfort of his arms.
A/N: I died half way through this...and I now know who the horny bitches in my blog are....love yaaaaa
Tags:
@ghostslillady @liyanahelena @madsdawson @luvmariax0 @vellichor-of-the-mundivagant @willowaftxn83-87 @magpiemoon6 @cumikering @luvecarson @crystaljade22 @imantieverythingsoleavemealone @ivoovu @nellsbobells @ghostslittlegf @sadieesssss @idkwhatisyou @genshinremite @johfaam0 @froggy-anon @goldenmclaren @krinoid24 @frizzseaberries @frazie99 @vampsquerade @alxexhearts @tiredmetalenthusiast @strangepuppynightmare @defnotlpuluvyou @enarien @nellsbobells @willowaftxn83-87
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sturn-wrld · 6 months
Text
🏮Good People
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pairing: chris x reader
summary: where reader gets the treatment that her exes couldn't give her
genre: SMUT!!!
warnings: head (fem receiving), p in v, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), nicknames (mamas, ma)
a/n: day 2 of smutmas. don't know how to feel about this one.
masterlist
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you have never had the best experiences in sex. it wasn't that you didn't know how to have sex, you definitely taught a few dudes how to actually have sex but it was the people you were having sex with that were the problem. on top of most of the men you have had sex with being assholes and them not knowing how to make you also feel good, none of them ever actually made you cum.
now that your in a relationship with chris, you were scared he had the same tendencies as the last dudes. yes, he was a completely different person to all of your jackass exes but you didn't know how he was with sex. you knew he wasn't a virgin and that somehow nick knew that he was the best at sex out of the triplets but you were still scared nonetheless. But you definitely wanted to find out.
it was an average tuesday and you were doing your daily gossips with nick in the kitchen.
"so then he just left" nick finished his story from a party he went to last night.
"that's literally crazy" i said in reaction to his story
"all over her not cumming" he added
"i understand though" i add "i've dated a few selfish men through my years" i say laughing towards the end
"girl don't tell me that you've had to fake orgasms before" nick says looking shocked at me
unbeknownst to me chris was walking in as i was answering his question.
"i've faked every single one or at least told him after that i had when he asked and i hadn't. anyways that's in the past those were my bullshit exes" i say looking towards the ground. i look up to see nicks reaction and he is looking directly behind me hand over his mouth.
"WHAT?!?" chris practically screams "a dude has never made you finish?"
"yes chris. none of my asshole exes have made me cum. maybe it's like only good people can have good sex. i don't know" chris stands there staring at me mouth hung open as if i had just told him the biggest secret to ever be told
"so you've never had an orgasm?" nick jumps back into the conversation
"nooo. you've got it wrong my friend. i've definitely cummed before just not from someone else" chris looks at me now with seductive eyes.
nick catches onto this. "i think i'm going to give you two privacy" he says walking away to his bedroom
"come with me now" chris says leading me to his room.
as we make it into his room he starts to make out with me. this wasn't a foreign thing for us, when he started to pull up my shirt i definitely froze for a second but i really needed this so i let it happen. he then continued kissing me slowly kissing down my jaw to my neck and marking my neck. no one had ever done this and i don't know why because damn it was good.
once he was satisfied with his marks he pulled off his shirt and continued to passionately kiss me. he started tugging at my bottoms before asking "can i take these off mamas?" i nodded vigorously wanting him to touch me already "i need words beautiful"
"please take them off" after that he started pulling my bottoms straight down he started to kiss back down my jaw and neck but. it stopping until he got to my tits. he slid is hands behind me and took my bra off, slowly starting to massage the left one while taking the right one into his mouth. i let out the loudest moan i think i have ever released from this feeling. i could feel him smirk as he started marking my boobs mirroring my neck. "you like that baby?" he asks in between his sucking and kissing "yes baby i love it" he just smirks again as he starts to kiss down my stomach towards my lace underwear.
"can i take these off?" he asked looking back up at me "yes baby" i said starting to massage his hair as he removed my panties and starting breathing on my now soaked folds. "all wet for me beautiful?" all i could do was hum in response. he laughed as he started to kiss my inner thighs teasing me even more. "baby please touch me. i need you so bad right now." i managed to get out seconds before he attached his mouth to my clit, receiving a moan from me that echoed through his room and undoubtably the whole house. he slowly starts to run his tongue through your folds before dipping it into my aching pussy receiving more screams. i could feel the cloudy mind and build up in my tummy.
"chris i'm going to cum" i screamed as he stopped "not just yet baby" he said standing up undoing his belt and pulling down his pants. "you finish when i'm ready" he says pulling me to the edge of the bed and rubbing his cock down your folds. my moans continued to grow louder as he continued to tease me with his tip before suddenly slamming his massive cock into me. he continued to fuck me at an unbelievable pace causing me to grip the sheets next to me.
as the pain turned to pleasure i couldn't help but feel the overwhelming feeling in my stomach from reappearing. "babe i'm going to cum" i practically scream at chris "wait for me ma, i'll tell you when" at that moment i felt him twitch inside of me as he pumps even faster. "i can't hold it for any longer" i say as i clench around him "cum gorgeous" he says as we release at the same time, our juices mixing and dripping out of me as he pulls out with a grunt.
he picks me up and moves me over, laying next to me saying cute praises about how good i was for him.
"i think only good people have good sex" he says
"then you must be an extremely good person then"
taglist
@ermdontmindthisaccount @its-jennarose
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pizzaqueen · 1 year
Text
Another first kiss for day six of @steddie-week for the prompts ‘true’ and ‘misunderstandings’
726 words of these ridiculous boys being ridiculous / rated T
Eddie has been staring at Steve, eyes narrowed, head tilted, for at least five minutes.
“What’s wrong with you?” Steve asks. The way Eddie looks at him sometimes sits weirdly. Makes Steve wonder if Eddie can tell. Can see Steve’s crush—more than crush—on him.
“Your face.”
Steve rolls his eyes. “Thanks.”
“It’s just so pretty.” Eddie grins and leans in to pinch Steve’s cheeks.
Steve shoulders him away—“Fuck off”—and rubs his face.
There’s a sharp cackle and then Eddie flops back onto the bed. He folds his hands on his stomach, staring up at the ceiling. There’s silence for a little while until Eddie says, softly, “You’re more than pretty, you know.”
“What?”
“You’re beautiful.”
Steve’s pulse stutters and his stomach swoops. “Eddie, don’t—” He can’t take Eddie joking about this.
“Fuck, I shouldn’t have said that, should I?” Eddie looks at Steve and Steve can’t read his face, but, oh shit, it doesn’t look like he’s joking.
“I don’t know,” Steve says, amazed he can choke any words out around his heart in his throat, “why’d you say it?”
“Because I meant it.” Four simple words and they totally shatter Steve’s world. What is happening? Eddie shrugs and adds, “But you already knew that.”
“I—” Steve blinks. “What?”
Eddie pushes himself up, so he’s sitting cross-legged, catty-corner from Steve. “You know, this is what we do. I pine and you pretend not to notice.”
“I’m not pretending.”
“No, you definitely know,” Eddie says, but he’s sounding less certain by the second.
“I don’t fucking know.” Steve’s heart beats hard and he’s pretty sure his palms are sweating. “Are you saying you…”
Eddie gives a small nod.
��Jesus Christ.”
“I thought you knew.” Eddie fists a hand in his hair. “Oh, fuck.”
“How would I know? You’re no different with me than anyone else, except when you say shit like you did earlier. But then you do something like pinch my face and it always sounds like you’re joking.”
“I’m not. I just—”
“And, I mean, I don’t know any other guys who like guys, so maybe they flirt differently, and I’m realizing as I say that it makes no sense, does it?”
“Maybe, but, hey, now you know a guy who likes guys, right?” Eddie waves his hands. A beat and then: “Wait, other guys? Other to who?”
“To me. I think.” Steve swallows. “I mean, I don’t really know.” He runs a hand over his face. “Carol dared me and Tommy H to make out once and it was just wet and awkward but that was Tommy, and you’re not Tommy and I think it would be better with you and…” He shrugs.
“Wait. You’re saying you…”
Steve nods.
Eddie’s brows raise. He points to himself. “Me?”
“Okay, one of us has to say a full sentence at some point but, yeah, you.”
“Oh.” A smile slowly forms, a different kind of smile that Steve doesn’t think he’s seen from Eddie before—it’s small and true and breathtaking.
And then Steve is flat on his back with the full weight of Eddie on top of him. Eddie’s hair is a curtain around their faces, strands tickling Steve’s nose; Steve reaches up, pushing Eddie’s hair aside as best as he can. “What are you doing?”
“We’re going to kiss,” Eddie says, “and it’s going to be so much better than when you kissed Hagan,” and then he kisses Steve.
Any doubt that Steve wanted this melts away the moment Eddie’s lips touch his—of course he wants this. And it is so much better, Eddie was right, and Steve loses himself in it. He cups the back of Eddie’s neck, fists his other hand at Eddie’s waist, relishing the feeling of Eddie’s thighs either side of his and the slide of their tongues and just Eddie.
When they part, Eddie’s lips and eyes are shining and he says, “You really are beautiful,” breathless and awed.
Steve doesn’t know what to say to that because he’s not sure anyone’s called him beautiful before so he just says, “So are you,” and kisses Eddie again. There’s nothing else to talk about, anyway, not now.
Steve knows he wants this and he knows Eddie wants this and that’s enough for now. The other words can wait; he’s got a ridiculous, beautiful boy to kiss.
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straykeedz · 8 months
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day 4: hyunjin + cumshot
©straykeedz
tw: exboyfriend!hyunjin; mentions of a breakup; porn with plot but more like plot with porn tbh; very brief nipple play; unprotected piv sex (don't do that at home 🤨); brief clit play; hyunjin cums on reader (obviously) and takes a pic; cum swallowing; exes2lovers?; ♡
honestly this is, like, 90% plot and 10% porn lol, also bare with me if it sucks - english is not englishing these days 🥹 plus i really don’t know what this is lol hyunjin is always the hardest for me to write 🫠
wc: 4,2k (i’m sorry 🫣);
this is part of my kinktober masterlist. you can find my regular masterlist here (tho it will not be updated until the end of kinktober) ♡
🔖 (open): @linos-kitten ; @luneskies ; @kxcies-blog ; @idunnomanmynamewastaken ; @cessixja ; @stolasisyourparent ; @kookiesbunny ; @xoxo-xoxo-bunny ; @ivyskzsworld ; @mal-lunar-28 ; @leetaste ; @sunnykynnie ; @channiesgoodgirl ; @seonghwatoothless ; @mrsminho ; @seungminluv3 ; @jin-from-the-block ; @aaasia111 ; @sulkygyu ; @whosanaanyway ; @y-ur--I ; @vixensss ; @nightimescapes ; @freckleboilix ; @dreamingaboutjisung ; @yourbeomiebear ; ♡
to make sure i add you to the taglist, your age must be clearly visible on your profile. also, empty blogs will not be added - add at least a profile picture to your blog so that i’ll know you’re not a bot. ♡
smut below the cut, minors dni.
♠︎
You scoff, throwing your phone on the bed - still no sign of Hyunjin. He was supposed to be at your place half an hour ago, and still hasn’t showed up. Typical of him - not keeping his promises, no wonder the two of you didn’t work out, it would a miracle if you did. But tonight you don’t have it in you to put up with him - you have somewhere to be and you’re gonna be late if he doesn’t ring your doorbell within the next ten minutes. 
Speak of the devil - the doorbell rings. Thank God, you think, rolling your eyes as you head for the door. Once you swing the door open, you’re met with your ex standing on your doorstep - looking pretty handsome, you have to admit. He’s wearing an oversized t-shirt and has his hair styled into a messy bun, undercut clearly visible. 
“You were supposed to be here half an hour ago.”, you remark, an unamused expression on your face. 
“I’m sorry.” Hyunjin sighs, adjusting his glasses. “Something came up at work.” 
You scoff. Yeah, of course, work. You’re not surprised, everything’s about his stupid job with him. You’re surprised he still hasn’t moved into his office, considering he spends most of his time there anyways. But it’s not your place to judge, not anymore, because you’re not his girlfriend anymore and it shouldn’t bother you. 
“Yeah, well…”, you cut him off, checking the hour on the digital watch wrapped around your wrist. “You have less than half an hour to grab your things.”, you tell him. 
He looks at you surprised. Do you have plans? Well, that would explain why you’re all dressed up and have a full face on. Hyunjin takes a moment to look at you. You’re wearing a black tank top and a skirt - too short for his liking, but it’s not his place to say anything: he’s not your boyfriend anymore, and you can dress however you want to. Just… where are you going?, he can’t help but wonder, and secretly hopes it’s girls’ night or something like that. 
“Right.”, he mutters. “Where…?”, he trails, hoping you’d get the rest. 
When Hyunjin moved out of your shared apartment a month ago, he didn’t bring all of his things with him, and left most of his clothes in your closet, especially his sweatshirts and jumpers. Given that you broke up in mid-summer, it’s not like he really needed them anyways - but now that fall is approaching, he’s forced to face the problem. Still, he can’t bring himself to ask you if his stuff is still in your closet or if you already moved all of his things - it’d only make the breakup more official than it already is, more real.
“Oh.”, you clear your throat. “They’re still there - in the closet.”
He follows you in what once was both his and your bedroom, which looks so different now. His paintings aren’t exposed on the walls anymore, and there’s no trace of your framed pictures. It pains him, but he tries his best not to let is show, reminding himself that it was for the best. He selects a few of his favorite pieces of clothing, informing you that he’ll probably have to stop by in a few days to take all of his stuff. 
“Where’s…”, he starts, rummaging through the hooked sweatshirts, looking for that specific one. “…that grey one with the green details?”, he asks you. 
You’re taken aback by his question, because you know exactly what sweatshirt he’s looking for, and you know exactly where it is. You make your way to the closet, to your side of the closet, and slide the door open. 
“Here.”, you hand it to him, not able to look him in the eyes. He’s just as surprised as he takes it from your hands, then it hits him - it’s your favorite sweatshirt of his, the one you always stole from him and used to wear to feel him close to you. 
“You… still wear it?”, he can’t stop himself from asking you, knowing he’s sounding ridiculous right now. Call it a wishful thinking if you will - that you still wear his clothes. 
“I-“, you could lie, but he’d see it in your eyes anyways. “I only wore it a couple of times.”, you admit. 
One time, because it was particularly chilly after a thunderstorm, and the other… because you wanted to feel him close, smell his scent and pretend he was still there with you, that you hadn’t broken up and that he’d be coming home and cuddle next to you. But of course he didn’t. Yours, too, a wishful thinking. 
“Oh.”, is all he manages to get out - he can’t ignore the way his heart is beating fast in his chest as he holds the sweatshirt with shaky hands. Maybe there’s still hope, maybe he’s still got a chance to make things right. 
Before he could say anything else, your phone beeps - a message. You’re quick to retrieve your phone from the back pocket of your skirt and open a notification: a voice memo from your date. You’re about to respond that you can’t listen to it right now, when your fingers slip on the screen and you mistakenly let it play. Full volume, of course, because life’s a bitch. 
“Hey, y/n. I’ll pick you up for our date a bit later if it’s alright with you. I just got out of work and I need a sho-“, you lock your phone and throw it on the bed, heart hammering in your chest. 
Hyunjin is looking at you with lost eyes - it’s nothing compared to how he’s feeling inside his chest. Void, numb, broken. It’s as if his soul just left his body. You’re dating? Like, going out, meeting boys and… perhaps kiss them, bring them to your house? He feels his knees buckling a bit. 
“You’re… you’re going on a date?”, he asks, eyebrows furrowed. Maybe he misheard the voice memo, maybe it was not a man’s voice and it was one of your girlfriends, maybe maybe maybe. 
“Hyunjin…”, you to swallow the lump in your throat, not sure what you’re supposed to say right now, there’s not a proper way to talk about your dating life to your ex, is there? 
“You’re dating again? Already?”, anger and hurt replaced the confusion in his tone as he stands there, in the middle of your bedroom, sweatshirt in his hands as he looks at you like you just ripped his heart out of his chest. 
“It’s not serious.”, you say quickly, not wanting him to think you’re going to marry this guy or anything. 
“I should hope so, it would be a fucking travesty if it was serious. We broke up a month ago.”, he remarks. “Are you already over me? Am I that easy to move on from?”, he lets out a sarcastic chuckle, jaw clenched as he snaps his head in the opposite direction, not wanting to look at you right now - not when his eyes are fucking watery. 
“It’s not like that.”, the lump in your throat is back. 
“And how is it like then?”, he snaps.
You can’t believe him - you honestly can’t believe him. He was the one who broke up with you and he has the audacity to try to make you feel guilty for trying to move on? Okay, maybe jumping into dating guys isn’t the best way of coping with a breakup, but he doesn’t get a say in this. 
“Are you being serious right now?”, now it’s your turn to snap. “What am I supposed to do, Hyunjin? Sulk and never move on?”, you speak harshly. 
Your words sting him - because that’s exactly what he’s been doing for the past weeks, and he can’t believe you’re already talking about moving on when he still hasn’t gotten used to sleeping alone. He still hasn’t gotten used to a life without you - to waking up alone, to have breakfast alone, to watch movies alone on the couch, to the cold bed that welcomes him each night. And you’re just… dating, casually. 
“Were you already seeing him?”, he hates how his voice trembles as he speaks, and clears his throat immediately after. He doesn’t want to embarrass himself in front of you more than he already has. 
“What?”, your voice comes out in a whisper and your eyes widen. 
“You heard me.”, he tightens his grip on the sweater. “Were you already seeing him when we were together?”, he clarifies. 
“How could you even think I’d do something like that to you?”, you ask him, sincerely shocked. 
“It’d explain why you moved on so quickly.”
“Of course I wasn’t seeing him when we were together, Hyunjin, what the fuck?”, you raise your voice. “Besides, why do you care? You broke up with me, not the other way around!”
Hyunjin is forced to face the hard truth and the fact that his actions had had consequences and an impact on your life. He hadn’t even given you a proper explanation when he broke up with you, what a coward he’d been… Too caught up in his own feelings, he didn’t even stop once to wonder how you were doing, how you were dealing with the breakup and his absence. Was it that bad it pushed you into other men’s arms? Was this the first man you’d decided to go out with? Have there been others? He’s not sure he wants to know.
He snaps his head in your direction as soon as he hears your words. You’ve got it completely wrong if you think he broke up with you because he doesn’t care about you when, in fact, it’s the opposite. He cares too much. 
“I broke up with you because I wanted to protect you, not because I didn’t love you anymore.”, he mutters. 
“Oh, please.”, you scoff. “That’s the lamest excuse ever, even worse than the cliché ‘It’s not you, it’s me’.”
“But it’s true!”, he snaps. “It’s true. I did it for you. Do you really think I didn’t notice the way you were no longer happy with me? I was bad for you, y/n. I felt like I was… clipping your wings, like I was taking happiness away from you.”
You’re honestly shocked by his sudden outburst and confession, but it doesn’t make you feel better. In fact, it makes you even more upset and angry at him. 
“It wasn’t your choice to make.”, you reply coldly, crossing your arms over your chest. “You broke me, Hyunjin. You breaking up with me - it hurt more than every fight, more than every disappointment.”, your voice is shaky and your eyes are welling up with tears. Hyunjin hates himself for that. 
“If you love someone you let them go.” Hyunjin quotes, hoping it’d make you understand the logic he followed when he did what he did. His dark eyes staring into yours. 
“For if they return, they were always yours.”, you whisper back. You don’t break the eye contact. 
It happens in an instant. 
Hyunjin drops the sweater in his hands, letting it fall on the floor of your bedroom, as his cups your face in his hands and crashes his lips onto yours - and you do the same, wrapping your fingers around his wrists, melting into the kiss. His tongue brushes your lower lip and you instantly part your lips, allowing it inside your mouth. 
You can feel him growing harder in his pants, lower half of his body pressing against your stomach, and you moan at the contact when you feel it. Your hands begin to wander all over his body - first on his muscular forearms, then his biceps, then his broad shoulders. Then all the way down his chest and then on his back, scratching it over the t-shirt he’s wearing, but it makes him moan nonetheless. 
At the same time, one of his hands travels down your spine until it reaches your ass - squeezing it lightly. The skirt you’re wearing is so tight his fingers are almost brushing your bare skin, and it’s driving him crazy. Moreover, he still can’t believe he’s really kissing you right now, that you have your hands on him, that he’s touching you - his brain can’t process it. He’s scared to pull away from the kiss, even if he does need to breathe, he’s scared you’ll come to your senses and realize you made a mistake, that he’s too late, that you don’t want him anymore, that’s it’s over. 
But then he feels you tugging at his shirt, lifting it up a bit to expose some of his pale skin, and he takes it as a sign you want to continue. He pulls away from your lips only to regain his breath, and as he does so, his big, brown eyes stare deep into yours. You’re looking at him, too, with your beautiful eyes and puffy cheeks now pink, lips swollen from the kiss. 
“Hyunjin.”, you whisper on his lips. He’s mentally preparing himself for a rejection when you tell him “Bed.” He nods eagerly, before crashing his lips onto yours once again with the same passion as before - only a little more relieved this time, knowing that you want him too just as much as he wants you. 
Once you let yourself fall on the mattress, Hyunjin’s body is immediately on yours, hovering over yours as he keeps on kissing you without any intention of pulling away from you. Your skirt has lifted up a bit, allowing his crotch to press directly against yours - the bulge in his pant clearly evident as it brushes against your clothed cunt, which has you squirming under him. 
He only pulls away from your body when your hands begin to wander under his t-shirt, caressing the skin of his back - taking it as a sign to take it off for good. He gets rid of his ridiculously expensive glasses as well, carefully placing them on your - well, what was once his - nightstand, before his fingers grasp the hem of his shirt. He pulls it over his head and lets it fall on the floor. You take your tank top as well, staining it a bit with your makeup on the collar, then let it fall on the floor as well - ironically enough, it ends up landing next to his. 
You’re not wearing a bra, Hyunjin can’t help but notice, and wonders whether you did it on purpose - if you intended not to wear one when you were about to go out with another guy. He shakes that thought off his head, tho, not wanting it to upset him or ruin the mood, because it’s not that important right now. Not when you’re under him, naked chest on full display for him to see, skirt hiked up your waist. 
He kneels between your parted legs, one hand finds its way to your hip, squeezing it lightly as he brushes your hard nipples with the knuckles of his other hand, not touching you properly. Of course he doesn’t, he’s Hyunjin, he’s a tease - you know it well. Meanwhile, your panties are completely drenched. 
“Is this new?” Hyunjin asks, referring to your skirt. You nod, it is new. You bought it especially for tonight’s date, but you don’t tell him that. Hyunjin doesn’t need you to, tho, because he senses it in the way you lower your gaze and bite your lower lip. For some reason, it doesn’t upset him. “Can I fuck you in this pretty skirt, love?”, his hand travels all the way to the hem of your skirt, then to your inner thigh until his knuckles are now brushing the soft cotton of your underwear. 
You whimper, and squirm under his touch. “Please.”
Hyunjin grins at your eagerness, tho he’s pleased with your answer, then asks you. “Please what?”
You hate that you love it when he teases you like that. 
“Please fuck me, Hyunjin.”, you whisper, looking him in the eyes. 
He tries to mask the way his breath hitches in his throat - the sight of you sprawled on your bed, legs spread to welcome him in between them while you’re lying there in nothing but a short skirt and a black thong with your tits out has him whipped. It always has. 
His shaky hands reach the zipper of his pants faster than lightning, and that has a mischievous grin appear on your face. Hyunjin gets off the bed only to remove his tight skinny jeans, and you take it as an opportunity to hike your skirt further up your body. When Hyunjin sees you’re about to take your panties off, he grabs you by the wrist. 
“Don’t. Leave them on.”, he practically begs. You nod. The idea of him fucking you with your skirt and underwear still on turns you on even more, you can’t deny it. 
In a matter of seconds, Hyunjin is back between your legs, completely naked - fully erect cock looking gorgeous as ever. Hyunjin has an incredibly pretty cock, if you think about it. Not that you’ve seen that many, not in real life at least, but it is indeed pretty. It’s slightly less thick than average, albeit a bit longer and slightly curved so that it’s able to reach all the perfect spots inside of you. And, last but definitely not least, he knows how to use it. 
“You’re staring.” Hyunjin chuckles, noticing your gaze on his hard length - not that it bothers him. 
“I missed it.”, you shamelessly confess - it’s not the place nor the time to feel shy about it. Plus, it’s not some stranger you’re in front of, it’s Hyunjin, the boy you’ve dated for nearly four years. “And you know you have a nice dick.”, you quirk and eyebrow at him. 
“Mh, you’re right.”, he smirks cockily. “Should I give it to you, then, since you seem to be liking it so much?”, he teases. God, you might actually cry if he doesn’t stick his cock in you within the next minute. 
“Hyunjin.”
“Fine, okay.”, he chuckles, positioning himself closer to your body, propping himself up on his elbow. “Forgot how impatient you can get.”, he playfully shakes his head, the smirk not leaving his face.
You’d get impatient too if you knew how good your cock feels, you think to yourself. You don’t want to stroke his ego by saying it out loud. 
He pulls your panties to the side, exposing your bare pussy to his eyes and he sucks in a breath at the sight, running the pad of his thumb up and down your slit to spread your arousal all over you - a bit surprised to find you this wet already. God knows you’ve been wet ever since you opened the door and witnessed him standing there - glasses and messy bun and everything. 
“You think you need me to stretch you out?”, his voice is soft. 
You shake your head as a no. “I’m good.”, you whisper, and he nods. 
Seconds later, you feel the tip of his cock pocking at your wet entrance, ready to part your folds. When he does push inside, there’s nothing you can do to prevent a chocked moan from escaping your throat, not used to the stretch - despite it being very familiar. He senses the slight discomfort and immediately brings two fingers to your clit to rub it gently, knowing well it usually helps you to relax. Then, when he feels you’ve adjusted to him being inside of you, he begins to thrust. 
Hyunjin fucks hard and fast. 
It’s something you discovered in the early stages of your relationship, and needless to say - it shocked you. He always looks so peaceful and calm, and for some reason you thought that he’d be pretty vanilla in bed. He’s not. Sure, he can do vanilla if you ask him to, but his tendency is to fuck you hard and fast to the point you can barely stand on two feet once he’s finished with you. 
This time, tho, he’s not being particularly rough. Sure, he has one hand attached to your hip, gripping it to keep you in place as he gives it to you hard, but his pace is excruciatingly slow. He takes his time, filling you up to the brim and then pulling almost all the way out so that only his tip stays inside of you, before slamming back in, making you gulp each time and roll your eyes to the back of your skull. 
However, his movements come to an abrupt halt when he hears the low beep of your phone that’s right beside you. He just knows it’s that fucker of your date, who else could it be? He gives in to his impulsive thought of throwing your phone across the room - only a bit gentler than what he had in mind, letting it fall on the floor with a loud thud. “Fucker.”, he mutters under his breath, before slamming his cock back into you with a deep, hoarse grunt. 
You don’t say anything - you just pray to God he didn’t crack your phone screen. 
“Hyunjin.”, you moan loudly after he starts to pick up his pace, thrusting a little bit faster. 
Judging by the way you just moaned his name - he can tell you’re getting closer and closer to reaching your orgasm, and for some reason, it just boosts his ego, knowing he’s the one who’s pleasuring you, the one who’s about to make you cum on his cock. 
“Mhh, you’re close?”, he bites his lower lip, looking you in the eyes - you look completely fucked out, split by his cock. 
“So- so close.”, you whimper, wrapping your fingers around his wrist. “Do-don’t stop.”, you beg him, spreading your legs even more to feel him closer. 
Hyunjin’s cock twitches inside of you - he’s close too. “Why would I make you cum?”, he smirks at you. 
Your eyes widen in fear that he won’t let you cum, that he’ll just leave you high and dry, sprawled on your bed. “Because… because I’ve been a good girl?”, you try. 
Hyunjin loves to call you his good girl in bed, so you hope this might actually corrupt him and convince him to let you cum around his cock. Instead, he chuckles. “A good girl?” Another deep thrust inside of you has you seeing stars. 
“Yes. I’ve been a good girl to you, please let me cum.”, you whine. 
“Oh.”, he licks his lower lip, then smirks at you. “But good girls don’t let their ex fuck them in their cute little skirt and panties.”, he teases.
“They do when he’s the love of their life.”, you snap. 
His eyes widen - he looks sincerely shocked by your words. Something inside of him snaps, and he begins to fuck you harder, slamming his cock inside of you repeatedly. Yeah, you definitely earned your orgasm. He feels you creaming around his cock, whitish release coating the base of his length as you come with a loud whimper, looking him in the eyes. That nearly makes him cum as well. 
“Fuck- you wanna be a good girl?”, he grunts, fucking you even faster to the point your ass cheeks nearly burn due to the friction caused by the sheets underneath you. “You wanna be good to me?”, he pants.
You nod impatiently. “Yes.”
“You’re gonna let me do whatever I want to you?”
“Yes- whatever, yes.”, you pant. “You can do whatever you want.”
It happens in a matter of seconds - he pulls out of you and begins to pump his cock with his fist as his body hovers over yours, he’s practically kneeling at the height of your stomach. 
“Tongue out.”, he pants, and you obey immediately, sticking out your tongue. 
Hyunjin comes all over your face - hot spurts of his sperm landing on your cheeks, your forehead, your lips and your chin, to the point your whole face is covered in his cum basically. 
“Wait.”, he tells you, getting off the bed immediately only to climb back on it a few seconds later, with your phone in his hand. He’s pleased with discovering you haven’t changed your passcode. Then, with your own phone practically shoved in your face, he brings two fingers to your face, coating them in his semen before shoving them into your mouth. 
“Mine.”, he grunts, his cock nearly getting hard again when you moan around his fingers, licking them clean. Then, he pulls them out of your mouth and immediately retrieves his t-shirt from the floor and hands it to you, signaling for you to use it to clean his cum off your face. 
As you’re cleaning yourself off, you hear him speak. 
“Yeah, I guess she won’t be going out with you tonight. Sorry dude.”, you find him with his finger pressed on the screen of your phone, apparently recording a voice note.
“What are you…”
Before you could even finish the sentence, he turns the screen to your direction, allowing you to see the chat with who was supposed to pick you up in about… now. There’s a picture of you with Hyunjin’s cum all over you and his fingers in your mouth, and then there’s the voice note Hyunjin recorded mere seconds ago. However, you can’t find it in yourself to get mad at him, and crack a smile. 
“You’re lucky I love you.”, you pull him close for a kiss. 
“The luckiest.”
♠︎
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