#well let's just say I can definitely use some more practice!
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𝐅𝐮𝐜𝐤 𝐦𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐦𝐚𝐝 𝐚𝐭 𝐦𝐞 𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲
✰ characters ✰ 𝐘. 𝐄𝐫𝐞𝐧
✰ summary ✰ don’t say things you don’t mean, unless you do mean them. in that case eren can fulfil all your requests (f!reader)
✰ tags/warnings ✰ nsfw, ex!eren, alcohol use, degradation, spanking, daddy kink, cum eating, squirting. praise kink, overstimulation, pussy licking
✰ kyun’s note ✰ it’s been long overdue, two long fics in a row is tough gang dont do this at home. also sorry for any spelling mistakes i am sleep derived
it was definitely a good idea to go out with the girls
it was probably a bad idea to not send eren home with all the drinks you had earlier clouding your judgment
it was absolutely going to hurt in the morning but that is the last thing that's on your mind right now it will be a problem for later
you and eren had gotten together in high school and stayed together for the duration of high school. the both of you being fairly well known though he was more popular than you were.
the both of you had different passions and wanted to peruse different careers. him wanting to play basketball professionally and you didn’t really want to have a boring 9-5 either so you chose to be an influencer.
you both supported each other and both of you became very successful in what you did. eren signing with a good team and you having nearly up to a million followers. you made sure to go to every one of his games and he would be sure to mention you on his socials and even point to you at games.
the two of you even had a child together who both of your fans adored. you had him early in both of your careers and had enough money to support him growing up, the two of you thought that you would be able to live the rest of your lives as a family.
that was until about 4 years later when eren’s schedule became to hectic and he spent more time practicing and being out of the country for games to even be home with you, there was a gradual build up to that which you thought you could get through but in the end you realised it was too much for you and he accepted that.
in the end the both of you decided to spilt apart as is was just too much on you. both of your fan bases were sad to see their favourite couple break apart but you assured them that it was mutual and the two of you ended on good terms, deep down you still loved him but you let him go knowing it was for the better.
eren always made sure to send money to support both him and you even though you told him that he didnt need to send you money as well. he also did regular calls to check in to see how the both of you were doing, and when he was back in the country he made sure to see you if he could spending time with his son and even you.
you know he loved his son from the way he would always get souvenirs from countries when he was out and even got some jerseys from his sons favourite players even if he did pout complaining because he wasn’t his favourite.
this went on for about a year and it worked really well for the three of you, your sons fifth birthday passed with eren doing his all to be there buying him an expensive gift that your son absolutely loved. eren had lately had been spending more time over due to the season, there not being a lot of games and you decided you wanted to go out since it had been a while.
eren has said he would take care of your son while you went out with your friends saying that you deserved the time to have fun. he took your son over to his house so that you could get ready in peace telling you he would keep him for the weekend so you could relax.
once the both of them had left the house you called both sasha and mikasa telling them the plans and they decided to come over to help you get ready. they arrived soon with their things and the three of you started to get ready.
you had your hair and make up done all that was left was your outfit. you had no idea what to wear as it had been a long time since you had gotten dressed up like this, the girls made their way to you closet and started picking through your stuff looking for something for you to wear.
being pregnant had made big changes to you body which left you feeling less than confident after your giving birth but as the years went by some changes left and some stayed. for one your tits and ass filled out as well as you hips getting wider giving you a near hourglass figure.
you were pretty self conscious about your body but everyone around you encouraged you to embrace your new body as they said it made you look sexy and you believed them, looking at yourself differently you loved your new self.
the girls had picked out a dress you don’t even remember buying. a long-sleeve red dress that stopped just under you ass with red cross slits trailing down the side exposing some skin. you paired it with a classic set of black heels and a red bag to match.
the other two were also ready when you had finished getting dressed so you made sure you had everything you needed and sasha drove you to the club blasting music all the way there.
you got into the flub with no problem all of you being over the required age and the three of you went to get drinks to start your night off, weaving your way through the bustling crowd and over to the bar where you all order your first round of drinks keeping you tab open just in case you want to get more.
you and mikasa take a few more shots sasha only having a few being your designated driver for the night not that she really needed any as she would be asked to have just as much fun either way. after you finished your drinks the three of you moved over into the dancing crowd losing yourselves to the music.
you swung your body to the beat of the music sasha in front and mikasa behind you, your as shaking with every sway of your hips. you could tell that many men wanted to join you but you could see both of the girls pushing the away as they know about your lingering feelings for eren.
the song changes and you recognise it as ‘mad at me by sexxy red’ realising that you know the lyrics and you start singing it along with the others in the room, knowing it lyric for lyric shaking your ass to the beat people around you dancing to the music.
when the next line come on you shout it out like there's no tomorrow “fuck me like you mad at me baby, I need a freak to drive me crazy!” and you sing the rest of the song with the same passion until it finishes and you’re out of breath.
the next song plays and you feel all the energy you had from before now depleted and decide to go pay for your last drink of the night leaving sasha and mikasa on the dance floor.
it didn’t take long for you to reach the bar and pay but on your way back to the girls some one stopped you trying to pull you for a dance. but you quickly pushed them away not in the mood walking to your friends even faster.
you get to the girls in record speed in no time though all the remaining energy you had no completed, the girls notice this and decide it’s time for you all to go home.
you drip mikasa home first knowing she has to go to bed for work in the morning. and then sahsa takes you back to your house with you dozing off on the way back. you didn’t even realise that you had faleen asleep until you felt sasha gently shake you awake.
thanking her for the ride home you wish her a safe journey back walking up to your front door, stumbling on the short walk due to the alcohol still flowing in your system. checking the time to see that it was almost past midnight and you know that your son should have gone to bed ages ago feeling bad that you couldn’t tell him goodnight.
when you walk in it takes a while for your eyes to adjust to the light which you were sure you turned off when you left, squinting only to see a figure sitting on the couch. you take off your heels setting them to the side and look up to see the figure still there.
once your eyes get accustomed to the light you realise that’s it’s eren sitting there who has been sitting there staring up at you since you walked in, and you think maybe you’re just hallucinating from the alcohol in your system but upon further inspection you realise that he’s actually there.
“eren? what are you doing here? where’s my baby?”
for a second he doesn’t say anything and just eyes you up but then he speaks up.
“c’mere here baby”
the space between you brows crease at the pet name but you move towards him nonetheless, coming to stand up in from of him looking down at him.
“I dropped him off at my mums place, don’t worry about him for now”
he gently pulls you down to straddle you making your dress ride up a little bit, leaving the two of you face to face. you don’t instantly question his actions but your face conveys your confusion, but instead of saying anything he just sits there rubbing slowly up and down your thighs spread over him.
“what’s going on, is something wrong?”
but instead of answering your question he laughs and pulls out his phone swiping though as if looking for something.
“how about you tell me what this is about first”
you’re confused at first but then once the video starts playing your eyes widen in shock. it’s a video of you in the club singing to “mad at me” shouting the lyrics to the song.
“wanna explain this to me”
he’s still smiling as he says it and you know there's no way to get out of this. there's no possible excuse he would believe after seeing that, which brings up the question of where he got it from.
“who took this video and how do you have it”
he turns off his phone slipping it back into his joggers the action causing you to shift in too of him, your hands coming to rest on his shoulders as to not fall off him.
“it was posted online and someone sent it to me, and don't try change the subject. what’s this about you wanting to fuck. if you wanted some dick all you had to do was say so princess. you know i never say no to you baby”
in truth it had been a while since you were active, though it was mainly because of your lack of time due to taking care of you son as well as working.
part of it had to do with the fact that no dock would be able to compare to eren's. the way he would fuck you was to good for you to ever try it with anyone else.
you had kind of missed this intimate part of your relationship, you knew eren wasn’t the type of guy to sleep around and you are sure if he did you would have found out by now and you didn’t want to seem to desperate by asking him about his life without you as you respected his privacy as he did yours.
“why you silent for pretty, aint got nothing to say or did you really mean what you said. what was it again, you wanted me to fuck you like I was mad at you cause I can do that baby if it’s what you want, do you want that?”
as you contemplate your answer you notice his hands don’t stop but smile drops a serious look falls over his face. he probably knows that your drunk and no os giving you a way out of this.
knowing him if you said no he would step back and act as if it didn’t happen. the thing is that you do want this to happen, maybe it’s the alcohol or the fact that you’re just really pent up and horny but you don’t see a reason to decline his offer.
you nod your head to agree but he doesn’t seem satisfied with that hands stopping to grip at your thighs squeezing them lightly.
“no princess, I need words. you say yes we continue. say no and I’ll take you to bed and go back home, answer me properly”
knowing this is your last chance to back out you appreciate his efforts in order to confirm your consent and it just gives you even more reason to say yes, knowing that he’s being respectful even though he couldn’t have done what he wanted knowing you have no way of defending yourself in this state.
“yes eren, I want this. I want you. fuck me please, i need you“
you hardly have time to register what’s happening before he’s lifting you up and making his way to your old shared bedroom. you wrap you legs around his firm torso and cling onto him tighter, even though you know that there no way he will drop you.
“only since you asked me so nicely, I’ll give you what you need don’t worry baby”
the two of you reach the bed room in record speed and eren gently sets you down on the edge of the bed kneeling down in front of you both of his hands still on the side of your thighs looking up at you with a mischievous grin.
his mouth latches onto you barely clothed sex sucking on your clit in a way that has you gasping out in ecstasy. it’s no lie to say that eren knows every inch of your body inside and out. he knows all the things that make you squirm and scream. where to touch and lick as well as h to e spots indie you that make your arch into his touch.
he moves on from sucking on your clit like a mad man thirsting for water and moves down to you dripping whole, sinking his tongue into your tight heat that hadn’t had any attention for a while. not that there weren’t a few visits from your bullet vibrator it just couldn’t make you cum the way you did when eren would fuck you.
“fuck, she really missed me didn’t she ma?”
the way he’s talking to your pussy has you rolling your eyes, but they then roll for a different reason as he adds one finger teasing his way inside of you alongside his hot tongue. “oh fuck, ‘ren don’t stop please” your hand reaches for his head gripping his hair causing it to fall loose as you pull his face further into your cunt.
both his tongue and fingers pistoling into you at a harsh pace so he not surprised when you end up cumming into his mouth as he starts to suck on your clit. he doesn’t stop scissoring his fingers inside you until you stop cumming and your moans die out, though your legs still tremble slightly due to the force of your orgasm.
“we aint done yet princess, you said you wanted to be fucked right and that’s what you’ll get. flip over”
you may be a bit drunk but that doesn’t stop you from turning over at the speed of light making you a bit lightheaded but you do regret it as you miss when eren pulls of his top and steps out his trousers and boxers, kneeling back behind you slapping his cock against your ass cheeks.
“you ready for me baby?”
he watches as you nod your head eagerly and lines his cock up with your pussy sliding in with predicted ease, filling out all the way to the hilt. both of you let out moans of pleasure “fuck- I missed you” you’re not sure if he’s talking to you or your pussy but you’re to full and stretched out to care. it would be an understatement to say that you also missed the fill of his cock. it was more like the longer you were apart the more you craved to feel him.
he was feeling sympathetic knowing that it had been a while since you had fuck him, or anyone for that matter, but when you start to rock back into him letting out small mewls of pleasure he decides not to hold back. “such a desperate whore, you cant wait to fuck yourself on my cock huh?” his words are accompanied by a hard slap to your ass causing your movements to stagger with a loud moan of “f-fuck, you’re taking too long”
he lets you move as you please for a few more moments before growing impatient and gripping your waist slamming his hips into yours. “d-daddy- fuckk!” you cant see it but you can hear the smirk as he says “you like it when daddy fucks you like this don’t you?” as he sends another harsh thrust you way, rocking the bed with the force of his thrust.
he continues with his timely thrust with the occasional slap to your ass, oscillating between that or squeezing it in both hands and playing with the fat. he can feel the way you clam down on him when he does that, knowing your body inside and out plays well in is favour, not so much in yours.
he spares no energy with is thrusts as he knows you like it when he's rough with you, fucking you into the soft sheets wit vigour, deep strokes hitting your cervix every time, the tip brushing against your sweet spot on every quick roll of his hips.
he's not surprised when he begins to hear your familiar slurred pleas of " daddy please. 's too much. slow down" to which he does the opposite and uses one and to steady your waist and the other one to hold your neck keeping your back arced "remember, you asked for this princess," your unable to move, sheets bunched up in your hands, hips held high by him, face pressed into the bed.
"made it loud and clear waat you wanted and now im giving it to you"
the slick sounds of sex circulate the room, your nonsensical moans bouncing off the walls in the room along with his skin slapping against yours as he hammers is cock into your dripping pussy. "since you asked for it m sure you can take it like a good girl cant you? noting you havent done before"
you can feel is cock start to pulse inside you and you know that he's close , and you're on the verge of release, with the way eren's pounding into you you doubt you'll be able to last much longer as well as the fact that its been ages since your last fuck, which was eren.
"next time you want something, just fucking ask"
the last three words of his sentence are each punctuated with a harsh trust, sending you over the edge as you begin to squirt all over is cock and onto the sheets below you. he can feel the way your pussy spasms around is cock as he fucks you through your orgasm, slowing down to ease you through it.
"that's it cum on daddy's cock, its all fucking yours baby, nobody can have me but you"
its only a couple more languid trusts until he's spilling is hot seed inside you with a groan of your name on his lips, hips stuttering as his grip tightens enough in a way you're sure will leave marks in the morning, body doubling over your trembling frame while he locks his hips with yours, emptying is tick load deep into your pussy.
only wen he's sure that there's no more does e finally pull out of your near limp body and gently rolls you over onto your back. peppering kisses down your torso till he settles between your legs were he begins to suck the cum out of you, causing your legs to clam around is head.
"nononono- fuck. i cant, s too much no more."
he's relentless not stopping even as your and tug at his air, pushing is tongue deep into your pussy and licking your mixed juices out of you. "just one more baby, i know you can give it to me" he's not wrong as only a second after he presses his thumb to your clit, you're cumming for the third time that evening shaking in is hold.
after tat e makes sure to clean you out as best as he can, dressing you into comfortable clothes. after cleaning himself he carries you to the guest bedroom and tucks you in deciding to leave until you reach out to him pulling him back.
he ends up wit is arms wrapped around you and your head tucked underneath is, drifting into a deep sleep. you're sure that in the morning the two of you will have a lot of things to talk about.
𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 - 𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐀𝐂𝐊 𝐎𝐍 𝐓𝐈𝐓𝐀𝐍
#✰𝐊𝐘𝐔𝐍 𝐅𝐈𝐂𝐒✰#eren x black reader#eren smut#eren aot#eren x reader#eren yeager#eren jaeger x reader#aot smut#aot#black y/n#black reader#black women#eren yaeger smut#eren jaeger smut#eren jaeger#eren x you#eren x black fem!reader#aot x black y/n#aot x reader#aot x black reader#aot x y/n#aot x you#aot x female reader
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vees' collective dom but the one who just wants to live a peaceful life or something else that leads them to bonk (sometimes physically) vees off doing their villainous things. no, vox, you're NOT dealing with that deer tonight, we've agreed to watch a movie. no, val, you don't overwork your staff, it's fucking noisy. vel, don't you dare ever talk to other overlords like that again, it's risky
tbh, I had an image in my head about such reader complaining about vees' manipulations while some (another) punishment. like that vox could not use his hypnosis to make people buy his new product if he just made it actually useful, so why not he put that stupid head of his to better use on your chest and nothing more. vel should've thinked better on how love potion could be used, so overstimulation to show her it is. and val? wouldn't need that manipulative nice persona if he'd make actually good films and not some animalistic boring shit, so why he won't keep all of his hands to himself and try to be more romantic, sitting behind you, tied so well so he's only able to talk and he better do that
- 🦊
Basically a reader almost (definitely) manipulating the Vees into being less evil. ALSO NOT PROOFREAD!!!
So i’ve had very similar thoughts to this for a while and i’m going to tell you exactly why this would work. Quick lore drop about me but I used to be such a lowkey shady businessman (not explaining anymore than this, i’m healed) and let me just say, people like them are actually very easy to manipulate.
AKA greedy, power hungry, egotistical maniacs. What they do is terrible, thats no denying that, but they think very highly of themselves and their skills. So ‘stop abusing your employees’ not from a moral standpoint, but from a competence standpoint. That sells.
Like the whole “vox could not use his hypnosis to make people buy his new product if he just made it actually useful” thing would absolutely work. It’s a hit against his ego and self competence, and because of the fragility in his facade, it would absolutely cause insecurity.
And reinforcing it with very rough, degrading, dumbifaction style sex would absolutely still have him thinking the next day. He’s sucking your tits or dick or something and you’re making comments like “Aw, look. A job you’re almost good at. Too bad that little head of yours can’t even think of anything useful to society.” Make him cry, you definitely can when it’s a knock at his intelligence and power.
“vel should've thinked better on how love potion could be used, so overstimulation to show her it is.” Oh boy, I know this would get to her. Velvette thinks she’s hot shit, no, she knows she is. So now you’re overstimulating her and making fun of her because really? You had to use, even better, actually put time in to create a whole ass love potion, because not enough people wanted to fuck you?
She’d whine and tell you that’s not why, but come on. I mean, why be that hell bent on something so futile, we both know she’s not selfless enough to just give that away to virgin creeps all over pride. Oh Velvette, who’s came countless times and who’s pussy aches and has makeup running down her face, now has to her your call out on her confidence, and how it’s only boosted by her useless, forceful grab for others attention.
And Val, there’s so much ground to cover. “wouldn't need that manipulative nice persona if he'd make actually good films and not some animalistic boring shit.” Personal callout to his craft, which is clearly just as self indulgent as it is tiring. Your actors look so battered, Val. That’s not a good look, and isn’t that the point? Sex won’t sell if the people aren’t sexy, and that stars cracked lip is positively hideous.
There’s no intimacy, and you doubt someone as talentless as him can even achieve romance. So now he’s tied up on the bed, barely able to move as you sit across from him, not just bored, but reading a book or scrolling on your phone. He’s practically crying out cliche, used lines to romance you, and failing miserably when the whine creeps in.
So basically, the angle with Vox is his fragile power, Velvettes her unimpressive beauty, and Valentino is the implication of him not having a grasp on sex. Oh also fucking them to drill it in their head. Because what, people? Something that impacts the control over their work-life and sex-life will stick. Sex and power go hand and hand when the greedy are lustful.
Now are the results?
Well, Vox would make a show of making more useful products, and still use hypnosis, obviously he’s a shitbag, but there’d be a new level of self-hatred that comes with it, meaning it’d happen less.
Well, Velvettes is a little harder to just… take back as the product is already out there. However, the product promotion goes down ever so slightly because yes, money and power is great, but you’ve done something no one can do. Embarrassed our confident queen.
Valentino actually thinks before hitting an employee to hard, and actually lets actors have conversations because apparently people should have… chemistry? He doesn’t know, he just doesn’t want his porn to be boring or not sexy. His other issue (assault, i’m talking about assault) is not resolved he just leaves less marks.
You’ve successfully watered down a problem for a long-term (but not permanent) period of time. This could be even longer if also plant the idea of falling from power in their head.
Simply “What were you before an overlord? A sinner. What are your employees? Sinners. If you treat these employees to harshly, what will they do? Rebel. To successfully keep and manipulate your power you need your workers to feel more than obligation, but loyalty to you. Not your company or their job. You. Otherwise, keep in mind how other overlords have fallen.”
If you ever try this from a morality standpoint, it won’t work. The angle is power, people, because they will never stop being abusive for the right reasons. However, your domineering behavior in bed has earned you an amount of respect.
I fear I sounded evil in this um… never have this mindset for people who aren’t corrupt evil rapists. Also, I don’t think I talked about the smut aspect enough sorry, I just love character analysis. OH ALSO I haven’t been a sinister salesman since I was 16, everybody, calm down. Everyone has an angle though!
#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin hotel x you#dom reader#hazbin hotel smut#vox x reader#velvette x reader#valentino x reader#the vees x reader#sub vox#sub velvette#sub valentino#sub vees
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I just got my first set of watercolor pens, and wanted to give them a try. It's going to take a while to actually learn how to use them... but I think he turned out decent for a first attempt!
#rottmnt#my sketch#art#sketch#rise of the tmnt#traditional art#watercolor pen#watercolor#tmnt#donnie#my post#alt text#I like how the coloring turned out on his face and hoodie#the rest...#well let's just say I can definitely use some more practice!
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☆ WHEN YOU HAVE SEX WITH YOUR PROFESSOR — NANAMI, TOJI, GETO, GOJO.
summary: you have sex with your professor. for many different reasons.
wc: 4.2k (each of these were meant to be 500 words long so idk what happened)
cw: smutty smut afab!reader who's in university, mutual masturbation, spanking, semi public sex, toji is not a professor but a gym coach who rails you in a supply closet, but theres a lot of sex on a lot of desks so mdni.
an: theres actually a smidge of plot in this just a tiny bit if you do a deep squint, but the smut id personally say is my best yet. so give it a chance people, but come for the smut stay for the dialogue. hope you enjoy! not proofread ignore mistakes pls
☆ NANAMI
nanami kento, was the strictest teacher you have ever had. you couldn’t get away with your usual tricks that you did with some of your other professors — strutting past their office during office hours in your skimpiest clothes to get a better grade. it was as if nanami was immune to all your devices.
but with a big exam coming up, you knew you had to make something happen since studying was not your forte. so you were prepared to do anything to get that A.
“come in," his deep voice calls from inside.
as you enter his office, you are met with the sight of your professor, his glasses perched on the bridge of his nose, reviewing a stack of papers. he glances up at you briefly before returning his attention to his work.
"what can I help you with?" he ask, his tone professional.
“i wanted to see if we could talk about the exam you set for us tomorrow,” you start to say, his eyes still focused on his papers, not sparing you a glance. “i was thinking we could figure out a way for me to get extra credit… sir.”
you had his attention now. technically you’ve always had his attention — yes nanami was different to all the other professors you’ve ever had but that doesn’t mean he wasn’t a man at the end of the day.
he always noticed the way you’d sit in his classroom, your pouty mouth always gnawing at your pencil as you never had a clue what was going on. nanami always had to hide his dick feeling tight in his trousers whenever you walk into his classroom. little did you know that you actually would’ve failed his class a long time ago, but because he just couldn’t let go of the sight of how your pretty tits bounce everytime you raise your hand, he always made you pass.
“well what are you willing to do for that extra credit?” he says, his tone slightly amused.
“whatever you want” you respond a bit too eagerly, you were coming onto him hard. but it was working, you could already see the crack in his usual stoic facade. “c’mon professor nanami, i need to pass this class,” you practically beg.
“oh yeah, you definitely need to pass this exam, you’re one more failed exam to flunking my whole class,” he affirms — lying through his teeth. “so i think you should come sit up here, and show me what you’re willing to do huh.”
suddenly, you start to feel nervous. usually you’d have control of the situation, you’d flaunt your ass, fuck your teacher and get an A, easily. but this time, you could see in nanami’s eyes that from when you entered his office — that he was running the show.
you saunter over his desk, and he pushes his seat back allowing you to have room to perch on his desk in front of him. “take off your shirt,” he commands, and you’re quick to fling off your top — that was barely covering anything anyways, “wow no bra, why am i not surprised.” he stares at your hardened nipples smirking as he continues to say, “you know i see your nipples peeking at me through your shit all the time in class.”
“really?” you question coyly.
“you don’t think i see how you practically fuck yourself in your seat when i’m doing a reading,” he continues, his arms folding as if he was telling you off, “a bit disrespectful, right?”
“no i-it’s just i really like the sound of your voice,” you stammer, embarrassed at him calling you out. you couldn’t deny that your professor was hot, everybody thought so and you hated school the only thing that got you through your classes was your day dreams of him fucking you.
“oh really, well i wanna see you get off to it for real this time.”
“wha—”
“touch yourself,” he demands with a grin, “fuck yourself on your fingers, put on a show for me,” he loosens his tie, and unbuttons his cuffs, ready to watch you perform for him, “and if you do well, then we could talk about your extra credit.”
you take off your pants, your hands moving directly to your throbbing pussy — since of course you had no panties on. you press your thumb down on your clit as your fingers work their way into your cunt. you were already soaked, just from hearing your professor speak to you, so it was easy to slide your digits in and out of you.
nanami’s grin grows wider, loving the way your work your pussy, “you not gonna play with your tits?” and you take his hint, your other hand sliding up to cup one of your boobs, your fingers pinching and pulling at your nipples. “good girl,” he praises.
you add another finger inside of you, writhing down hard on his desk against your digits. you quicken your pace, rubbing your thumb vigorously against your clit. his gaze on you served as an encouragement, your ultimate goal was shifted, at this point you didn’t care whether he passed or failed you — you just wanted to put on a good show for him.
“you gonna cum for me?” he taunts, the sound of your pussy squelching around your fingers as you drive them in is like music to his ears. you barely even noticed him fisting his dick, stroking it hard — matching the pace of your fingers hammers your cunt. “you gonna make a big mess for me all over my desk?”
“professor i-” you whine, wanting more than just your own fingers inside of you, “please i need—”
“professor? what was it that you called me earlier?” he teases, “remind me of that and then maybe i’ll give you what you’re begging for.”
“s-sir please,” you sputter, barely being able to string a sentence together. you could feel you were about to cum hard. your fingers were still drilling into your pussy, and your hands were still suctioned on your tit and nanami's dick was taunting you. “i need you.”
“you need me hmm?” he mocks, his eyebrow tilting as he stares at your fucked out face.
“yeah p-please i need your dick,” you beg, your pussy was gushing all over your fingers, as your strokes got sloppier, “i need you i-in me.”
“oh really?” he asks with a smirk, a slight chuckle as you nod eagerly, “well too bad.”
“wha—”
“you really thought i’d put my dick in a slutty student that’s not even smart enough to even pass my class?” he lectures, he tuts his teeth, shaking his head, “now finish off for me and leave office hours end in a few minutes.”
“f-fuck,” you moan out, you could barely even process his words, too busy focused on cumming all over your fingers to think about how he just denied you of what you really wanted, your hand falls off your tit, your head jerking back as your release over his desk. he’s quick to cum too, biting down on his fist to surpress the loud moan threatening to come out
“you really made a mess for me huh,” he observes, swiping his fingers across the pool of cum you left on his desk and bringing it into his mouth, “sweet.” you were at a loss for words, you were just coached through one of the best orgasms you ever had from your professor — and he didn’t even touch you — yet you still don’t know whether he’s gonna pass you or not.
“so about that exam…?” you voice trails, as you put back on your shirt, hopping of his desk.
“i’ll think about it, sit the exam first and i’ll see what i can do,” his voice turns serious, and he nods his head in the direction for you to leave indicating for you to get up out of his office. but just before you're about to leave the room he calls out to you, “oi.”
“thanks for the live show.”
☆ TOJI
“why do we always have to fuck in such awkward spaces,” you complain nearly tripping on a basketball as toji holds you upright.
“you know you love it baby,” he smirks, pressing a kiss to your cheek, thrusting up into you further.
you were in the gym supply closet, having your weekly sex with your university's gym teacher. you don’t even know how your little routine came about but once he started to hammer into you every friday after basketball practice, you’ve never missed a meet up.
“don’t call me that,” you groan out at the use of his pet name.
“why not?” he grumbles, cupping your tits with his hands as he stands behind you, “aren’t you students s’pposed to listen to your teachers and all that.”
you take a sharp inhale as his large hands smother your boobs, his thick things toy with your nipples, “but y-you aren’t a real teacher, in case you forgot.”
“am too,” he mutters like a child.
“a-are not,” you spit back just as childishly.
“am, too,” he persists, thrusting into you hard. pushing you down by your nape, forcing your hands to grip onto some random gym apparatus. he uses his foot to spread your legs apart wider so he can fit right behind you. fucking into you with something to prove.
“you teach gym to a bunch of brain dead j-jocks, wouldn’t say that classifies as being an actual professor toji.” you continue riling him up, biting your lip as his hammers into you harder. “you’re more like a glorified personal trainer than a teacher.”
he drives into you deeper, “oh and your just an uppity bitch, who still ended up fucking this ‘personal teacher,’ in a gym closet,” his mouth moves close to your ear, as he whispers, “so what does that say about you baby?” he presses a kiss underneath your ear lobe, before lightly sucking on it.
his words go straight to your core, him calling you an ‘uppity bitch’ had the exact effect he intended them to have — you throwing your ass on his dick, fucking him back as hard as he was fucking you.
he sends a smack to your ass, biting his lip as it ripples at the contact of his palm. his slaps were merciless, having you scream out every time he hits your cheek. “how’s this for a glorified personal trainer huh?” he coos in your ear, feeling dignified as you rut against him more feigning for more of his dick in your throbbing pussy.
“ah you f-fill me up s-so so good,” you mewl out, as his dick pumps in and out of you stuffing you with every thrust. his mouth latches onto the nape of your neck, sucking on it as he ploughs into you deeper, hitting your spot with pinpoint accuracy.
“i know i do baby, i always stuff you good don’t i?” he groans out, your pussy was a vice grip on his dick, had him suppressing his moans whenever you clenched around him, “don’t know why you fuck around with these lame ass boys in your classes, they can’t fuck you like i do. do they?”
“well…” you voice trails in a teasing tone.
“dont f-fucking play with me,” he sputters, feeling himself about to bust all inside of you, “i’m the only one you fucking right,” when he doesn’t hear an immediate answer, he shoves himself into you his hips pushing right against your ass, “right?”
“y-yes fuck, right,” you sigh rolling your eyes at his act of possessiveness — ignoring how you pussy got even wetter at his words. “you’re the b-best i ever had, toji.”
“you’re damn right i am,” he scoffs out giving your ass one final slap as he says, “you going finish all over my dick, c’mon baby coat my dick with your sweet sweet,” and you do just that. you cum with a cry, releasing all over toji, as he shoots into you a loud groan leaving his mouth.
“aww i forgot how loud you get for me,” you tease him as he pulls out of you, turning to look at him with a grin, which he huffs out, “anyways what did i tell you about cumming in me, i'm not one of those cheerleaders you run around with,” you fuss swatting at his chest.
“yeah you aren’t one of the cheerleaders i run around with,” he repeats, “hence why i can cum in you, you know you’re my favourite fuck out of all my students”
“ugh you’re so gross.”
“you say that with my cum running down your legs,” he says, giving you a pointed look, his eyes staring down at your thighs, “i do have another hour till my next class i gotta teach, so i could clean it up for you?” he offers, already going down to his knees, knowing that was a suggestion you would not deny.
“if you insist.”
he starts to suck against your thighs as you lean against the wall, sandwiched between a goal post and a hockey stick, but just before his lips latch onto your pussy, he looks up to you with a pout, “do you really think gym coaches aren’t teachers?”
“oh shut up toji,” you mutter, pushing his head to your cunt.
☆ GETO
you storm into your professors office, pissed off. professor geto was the worst teacher you’ve ever had. he was cocky, arrogant and most of the time he didn’t have a clue what he was teaching.
“ah miss know it all,” he muses, his personal nickname he created for you during his first semester of being your professor, “to what do i owe the pleasure this time.” you were no stranger to geto’s office, you were practically the only student that actually used his office hours. geto didn’t mind it though. the unplanned visits, your impoliteness — he was amused by it.
“could you explain why you gave me a B, on my last paper?” you interrogate, waving said essay in his face furiously, “when we both know that this is easily worth an A.”
“i just think you could do better,” he shrugs nonchalantly, “i just think you haven’t harnessed your true potential, that’s all.” geto knew you were smart, the smartest person he’s ever taught. he just needed to get you in his office. and he knew a below average grade on an essay, that didn’t even matter, was the way to do that.
“and what do you know about potential?” you mutter, more to yourself than anything, “i don’t even know how you managed to get this job.”
he rolls his eyes at your comments, “do you really want this A?”
"of course i want the stupid A," you reply, your tone determined. "i've put in the effort, and i've met all the requirements for this paper. there's no reason for you to give me a B except for your own personal bias against me."
“personal bias? some may argue that you’re actually my favourite?” geto leans back in his chair, a sly grin on his face. "but alright, then. here's the deal," he says, folding his arms. "if you can convince me right now, in this very moment, that you deserve an A for this paper, i'll change your grade. but you'll have to persuade me.”
“persuade you?” you retort, “what you want me to do a powerpoint presentation or something…?”
he chuckles, shaking his head at your naivety, for someone so smart you somehow lack social awareness, “no i wanna see if you taste as good as you look.”
“you mean…” your voice trails, finally catching on to what he was getting at.
“come lay down on my desk,” he says casually as if this was a usual ordeal between the two of you. he could see you hesitating, “you do want that A right?”
your feet were stuck in the ground, you never wanted to be one of those girls — ones that had to fuck a teacher just to get through university. but, regardless of your below A grade, you were more curious about what it would actually be like. especially with a professor that looked like geto.
you lay down on his desk, nervous, you could feel his breath on your stomach as he slides down your jeans. he was kneeling down, his face at the same level as your pussy. he toys with your underwear, pulling at it and snapping it against your skin, giving you a smile of approval in your choice of panties. but just before he pulls them off you he asks, “you sure you want to do it smarty? you can run back to your dorm if you want?”
“anything to get the A,” you grit out, basically lying, since getting your grade improved was the last thing on your mind as he pulls off your underwear.
he takes his hair — that was usually tied up in bun — down, releasing his long hair, “just in case you need something to pull on,” he smirks.
his fingers slide across your wet slit, spreading your lips. he presses a kiss on your clit, slightly nibbling on it before working his mouth down to your pussy. you gasp at the contact as he latches his mouth on you, his tongue darting into your cunt at a quick pace.
geto hums in satisfaction as you hands immediately go to grab his hair, pulling at it as his tongue gives you long strokes, lapping up all the juices already spilling out of you. “i didn’t think my star student would be this needy, if only the class could see you now.” he taunts lifting his head up, “i guess they wouldn’t be surprised though, your as hungry for my tongue as you are to answer questions in class,” he finishes with a chuckle pressing a kiss to your thigh.
but you’re quick to silence him, clenching your thighs against his head, “s-shut up,” you whine, thrusting your hips up in his face to meet his tongue. your head was swirling, you could barely remember how you ended up on your professors desk in the first place. but all you were focused on was clawing your fingers through his scalp as he slurps and sucks on your pussy.
“oh m-my god,” you murmur, soaking his face. he could tell by the way you pushing his face deeper into your cunt, his nose forced into your arousal that you were close.
“ready to let me taste you” he asks, his voice sending vibrations over your pussy, “wanna taste you so fucking bad.”
“fuck d-didn’t think it’ll be this g-good,” you whine out. he brings his thumb to you clit rubbing it as fast as he could taking you over the edge. you moan out, practically squealing, as you squirt all over his face. he smirks, trying to get as much as it as he can.
“i didn’t know my star student could squirt,” he teases, his mouth glistening with evidence of you, “or should i call you my star squirter.”
“haha, very funny…” you deadpan, becoming slightly shy at seeing him lick his lips wiping the last remains of you off of him.
“i guess my theory was right,” he concludes.
“what theory?” you ask, puzzled, forgetting the whole reason you let him eat you out in the first place.
“you do taste as good as you look,” he comments with a pleased grin, already reminiscing about you squirting all over his face.
“so about my A?” you ask pulling up your jeans, and collecting your things.
“yeah i’ll expect your rewrite on my desk by friday,” he shrugs, going back to his nonchalant persona.
“rewrite? did you not promise me an A if i can ‘persuade you,’ at how badly i want it?” you question, going back to your original state of being pissed off, “did i not persuade you mr ‘you do taste as good as you look.’ this is so unfair”
“ask me if i care about fairness?” he smirks, a laugh leaving his lips as he watches you storm out of his office, “hey! you left your underwear,” he calls out behind you, his laugh growing as you say nothing, putting up your middle finger at him and slamming his door shut.
☆ GOJO
“do you want to lose your job?” you chastise, “shut the fuck up.”
“but i can’t help it,” he purrs, nuzzling into your neck to suppress his non stop moans and whines that he was doing as he pushed his dick in you, “your pussy’s just too good.”
you were leaning against the desk of your professor gojo’s lecture hall, your legs wrapped around his bag as he hoisted you up, grinding his body against yours as his dick drives in your pussy.
it was after hours, and gojo forgot to lock his classroom doors. as soon as your peers left the room he was quick to put his lips on yours, throwing all the stationary on his desk on the floor in the most dramatic fashion ever.
you don’t know how you got entangled in a relationship with your teacher. since you didn’t actually benefit from it, and he was needier and clingier than an actual student your age. but the mind blowing orgasms he gave you every now and again made you forget all of his ‘bad qualities.’
“c’mon don’t tell me it’s not making you feel wetter,” he murmurs in between kisses, “the idea of someone walking in on me fucking your pretty little pussy.” you ignore him, your arms tightening around his neck as you bounce on his dick. “tell me that doesn’t make you hot,” he eases his dick out of you slightly, drawing both of your attention to his member already covered in your juices. his eyebrows raise when you look back at him as if he’s just proved his point.
“whatever, i guess the idea of us getting caught isn’t that bad,” you lie, knowing it was causing you to get better, “but if we do get caught then it's your ass gojo.”
“aww you’re so thoughtful,” he coos, “you really care about me and my job, will you miss me if i get fired?”
“well i’ll miss my on campus dick,” you mutter, scratching at his back, as he thrusts into you deeper, “but i’ll be able to replace you quickly i guess.”
“oh how you wound me,” he mocks, pulling you into a deep kiss, desperate to taste you. that was gojo’s favourite thing to do to you, of course your pussy was great, but your lips were his favourite thing. sometimes he’d even drag you out of the hallway into his office —not a care in the world if anyone was around— and pull you into his lap just shove his tongue into your mouth and fondle your tits.
for a lousy professor, gojo sure knew your body well. he knew every spot to hit, every place to kiss, every stroke to make and you loved it. the scratches you were giving him on his back, encouraging him to go deeper, stuffing you to the brim. “f-fuckk you take me so so well,” he moans in your ear, whining and grunting as you tighten your hold around him.
“i’m close,” he mutters, his pace slowing. he lowers you down so your back is laying on the desk and he swoops his mouth down to your tits. enveloping your left breast with his mouth, greedily suckling at it.
“wow already?” you taunt, “you’ve really lost your touch professor, when i was an undergrad we could go at it for days.” his mouth pauses, as he looks up at you with a pointed look that reads as ‘girl really? as if you aren’t close.’ he wasn’t wrong, from his deep long strokes in your pussy, and his tongue twisting on your nipples, you were ready to cum all over him.
“gojo shit,” you curse, your hand coming down to your clit, flicking at it fast to speed up your orgasm. but gojo slaps your hand away, almost offended that you would try to cum off of something other than his hands and mouth. he bites down on your nipple, punishingly and that sends you overboard. you let out a shriek as you cum all over his dick, your hand quickly coming over your mouth to suppress your whines.
“what happened to being quiet huh?” he mocks your warning from earlier, “don’t want to get caught, do we now?” but he’s quick to let out a deep moan, as he releases into you, spraying your walls with all your cum. he slumps over you, exhausted, and wanting to just feel you — gojo was always needy after sex.
after you both come down from your highs and clean up — thankful that nobody stumbled across you. gojo pulls you into his lap, dabbing kisses all over your neck, “so when you gonna let me take you out, outside the classroom?”
“y’know that’s not allowed right?” you remind him, looking at your professor as if he’s lost his mind, “what we’re doing now isn’t allowed, but out in public is a no go, gojo.”
“not allowed?” he retorts, as if it’s news to him, “i thought it was just heavily frowned upon?!”
an: sooo what did you think? which one was your favourite. me personal lame gym coach toji really did it for me. tagging my girl @jabamin mainly just for nanami. but yes ALSO IDK WHY I MADE THE READER DUMB IN THE NANAMI FIC, but I juxtaposed it by making you super smart in the geto fic so it balances it out. anyways lmk what you thought, thanks for reading!! DONT USE MY DIVIDERS
#stampedwithanE★#jjk x reader#jjk smut#jujutsu kaisen smut#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujustsu kaisen x reader#toji x reader#toji smut#nanami x reader#nanami smut#gojo x reader#geto x reader#geto smut#gojo smut#gojo satoru x reader#toji fushiguro x reader#jjk fic#geto suguru x reader#nanami kento x reader
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TUMBLR POST EDITOR WON'T LET ME TITLE THIS POST ANYMORE SO I GUESS THIS IS THE TITLE NOW. WEBBED SITE INNIT
So let's say you grew up in the nineties and that The Lion King was an important movie to you. Let's say that the character of Scar - snarling, ambitious, condescending, effeminate Scar - stirred feelings in you which you had no words for as a child. And then let's say, many years later, you're talking about it with a college friend, and you say something like, "oh man, I think Scar was some sort of gay awakening for me," and she fixes you with this level stare and says, "Scar was a fascist. What's the matter with you?"
The immediate feeling is not unlike missing a step: hang on, what's happening, what did I miss? You knew there were goose-stepping hyenas in "Be Prepared," but you didn't think it mattered that much. He's the bad guy, after all, and the movie's just pointing it out. Your friend says it's more than that: the visuals of the song are directly referencing the Nuremberg rallies. They're practically an homage to Riefenstahl. This was your sexual awakening? Is this why you're so into peaked caps and leather, then? Subliminal nazi kink, perhaps?
And then one of your other friends cuts in. "Hold up," he says, "let's think about what Scar actually did in the movie. He organized a group of racialized outcasts and led them against a predatory monarchy. Why are you so keen to defend their hereditary rule? Scar's the good guy here." The conversation immediately descends into a verbal slap fight about who the real bad guy is, whether Scar's regime was actually responsible for the ecological devastation of the Pride Lands, whether the hyenas actually count as "racialized" because James Earl Jones voiced Mufasa after all. Your Catholic friend starts saying some strange and frankly concerning shit about Natural Law. Someone brings The Lion King 2 into it. You leave the conversation feeling a little bit lost and a little bit anxious. What were we even talking about?
INTRODUCING: THE DITCH
There is a way of reading texts which I'm afraid is pervasive, which has as its most classical expression the smug obsession with trivia and minutiae you find in a certain vein of comic book fan. "Who was the first Green Lantern? What was his weakness? Do you even know the Green Lantern Oath?" It eschews the subjective in favor of definitively knowable fact. You can't argue with this guy that, say, Alan Scott shouldn't really count as the first Green Lantern because his whole deal is so radically different from the Hal Jordan/John Stewart/Guy Gardner Corps-era Lanterns, because this guy will simply say "but he's called Green Lantern. Says so right on the cover. Checkmate." This approach to reading a text is fundamentally 1) emotionally detached (there's a reason the joke goes, oh you like X band? name three of their songs - and not, which of their songs means the most to you? which of them came into your life at exactly the right moment to tell you exactly what you needed to hear just then?) and 2) defensive. It's a stance that is designed not to lose arguments. It says so right on the cover. Checkmate.
And then you get the guys who are like "well obviously Bruce Wayne could do far more as a billionaire to solve societal problems by using his tremendous wealth to address systemic issues instead of dressing up as a bat and punching mental patients in the head," and these guys have half a point but they're basically in the same ditch butting heads with the "well, actually" guys, and can we not simply extricate ourselves from the ditch entirely?
So, okay, let's return to our initial example. Scar is portrayed using Nazi iconography - the goose-stepping, the monumentality, the Nuremberg Lichtdom. He is also flamboyant and effete. He unifies and leads a group of downtrodden exiles to overthrow an absolute monarch. He's also a self-serving despot on whose rule Heaven Itself turns its back. You can't reconcile these things from within the ditch - or if you can, the attempt is likely to be ad-hoc supposition and duct tape.
Instead, let's ask ourselves what perspective The Lion King is coming from. What does it say is true about the world? What are its precepts, its axioms?
There is a natural hierarchical order to the world. This is just and righteous and the way of things, and attempts to overthrow this order will be punished severely by the world itself.
Fascism is what happens when evil men attempt to usurp this natural order with the aid of a group or groups of people who refuse to accept their place in the order.
There exists an alternative to defending and adhering to one's place in the natural order - it consists only of selfish spineless apathy.
Manliness is an essential quality of a just ruler. Unmanliness renders a person unfit for rule, and often resentful and dangerous as well.
And isn't that interesting, laid out like that? It renders the entire argument about the movie irrelevant (except for whatever your Catholic friend was on about, since his understanding of the world seems to line up with the above precepts weirdly well.) It's meaningless to argue about whether Scar was a secret hero or a fascist, when the movie doesn't understand fascism and has a damn-near alien view of what good and evil are.
There's always gonna be someone who, having read this far, wants to reply, "so, what? The Lion King is a bad movie and the people who made it were homophobes and also American monarchists, somehow? And anyone who likes it is also some sort of gay-bashing crypto-authoritarian?" To which I have to reply, man, c'mon, get out of the ditch. You're no good to anyone in there. Take my hand. I'm going to pull on three. One... two...
SO PHYREXIA [PAUSE FOR APPLAUSE, GROANS]
We're talking about everyone's favorite ichor-drooling surgery monsters again because there was a bit in my ~*~seminal~*~ essay Transformation, Horror, Eros, Phyrexia which seemed to give a number of readers quite a bit of trouble: namely, the idea that while Phyrexia is textually fascist, their aesthetic is incompatible with real-world fascism, and further, that this aesthetic incompatibility in some way outweighs the ways in which they act like a fascist nation in terms of how we think of them. I'll take responsibility here: I don't think that point is at all clear or well-argued in that essay. What I was trying to articulate was that the text of Magic: the Gathering very much wants Phyrexia to be supremely evil and dangerous fascists, because that makes for effective antagonists, but in the process of constructing that, it's accidentally encoded a whole bunch of fascinating presuppositions that end up working at cross-purposes with its apparent aim. That's... not that much clearer, is it? Hmm. Why don't I just show you what I mean?
Atraxa, Grand Unifier (art by Marta Nael)
In "Beneath Eyes Unblinking," one of the March of the Machine stories by K. Arsenault Rivera, there's a fascinating and I think revealing passage in which Atraxa (big-deal Phyrexianized angel and Elesh Norn's lieutenant) has a run-in with an art museum in New Capenna. The first thing I want to talk about is that, in this passage, Atraxa has no understanding of the concept of "beauty". A great deal of space in such a rushed storyline is devoted to her trying to puzzle out what beauty means and interrogating the minds of her recently-compleated Capennan aesthetes to try and understand it. In the end, she is unable to conceive of beauty except as "wrongness," as anathema.
So my first question is, why doesn't Atraxa have any idea of beauty? This is nonsense, right? We could point to a previous story, "A Garden of Flesh," by Lora Gray, in which Elesh Norn explicitly thinks in terms of beauty, but that's a little bit ditchbound, isn't it? The better argument is to simply look at Phyrexian bodies, at the Phyrexian landscape, all of which looks the way it does on purpose, all of which has been shaped in accordance with the very real aesthetic preferences of Phyrexians. How you could look at the Fair Basilica and not understand that Phyrexians most definitely have an idea of beauty, even if you personally disagree with it, is baffling. This is a lot like the canonical assertion that Phyrexians lack souls, which is both contradicted elsewhere in canon and essentially meaningless, given Magic's unwillingness or inability to articulate what a soul is in its setting, and as with this, it seems the goal is simply to dehumanize Phyrexians, to render them alien, even at the cost of incoherence or internal contradiction.
Atraxa's progress through the museum is fascinating. It evokes the 1937 Nazi exhibit on "degenerate art" in Munich, but not at all cleanly. The first exhibit, which is of representational art, she angrily destroys for being too individualistic (a point of dissonance with the European fascist movements of the 20th century, which formed in direct antagonism to communism.) The second exhibit, filled with abstract paintings and sculptures, she destroys even more angrily for having no conceivable use (this is much more in line with the Nazi idea of "degenerate art", so well done there.) The third exhibit is filled with war trophies and reconstructions from a failed Phyrexian invasion of Capenna many years prior, which she is angriest of all with (and fair enough, I suppose.) But then, after she's done completely trashing the place, she spots a number of angel statues on the cathedral across the plaza, and she goes apeshit. In a fugue of white-hot rage, she pulverizes the angel heads, and here is where I have to ask my second question:
Why angels? If you are trying to invoke fascist attitudes toward art, big statues of angels are precisely the wrong thing for your fascist analogues to hate. Fascists love monumental, heroic representations of superhuman perfection. It's practically their whole aesthetic deal. I understand that we're foreshadowing the imminent defeat of Phyrexia at the hands of legions of angels and a multiversal proliferation of angel juice, but that just leads to the exact same question: why angels? To the best of my knowledge, the Phyrexian weakness to New Capennan angel juice is something invented for this storyline. They have, after all, been happily compleating angels since 1997. We could talk about the in-universe justification for why Halo specifically is so potent, but I don't remember what that justification is, and also don't care. Let's not jump back in the ditch, please. The point is, someone decided that this time, Phyrexia would be defeated by an angelic host, and what does that mean? What is the text trying to say? What are its precepts and axioms?
Let me ask you a question: how many physically disabled angels are there in Magic: the Gathering? How about transsexual angels? How many angels are there, on all of the cards that have ever been printed for Magic: the Gathering, that are even just a bit ugly? Do you get it yet? Or do you need me to spell it out for you?
SPELLING IT OUT FOR YOU
There is a kind of body which is bad. It is bad because it has been significantly altered from its natural state, and it is bad because it is repellent to our aesthetic sensibilities.
The bad kind of body is contagious. It spreads through contact. Sometimes people we love are infected, and then they become the bad kind of body too.
There is a kind of body which is good. It is good because it is pleasing to our aesthetic sensibilities, and it is good because it is unaltered from its (super)natural state.
A happy ending is when all the good bodies destroy or drive into hiding all of the bad bodies. A happy ending is when the bad bodies of the people we love are forcibly returned to being the good kind of body.
Do you get it now?
ENDNOTES
It's worth noting that the ditch is very similar to the white American Evangelical hermeneutics of "the Bible says it. I believe it. That settles it," the defensive chapter-and-verse-or-it-didn't-happen approach to reading a text, what Fred Clark of slacktivist calls "concordance-ism". I don't think that's accidental. We stand underneath centuries of people reading the Bible very poorly - how could that not affect how we read things today? We are participants in history whether we like it or not.
I sincerely hope I haven't come across as condescending in this essay. Close reading is legitimately difficult! They teach college courses on this stuff! And while it is frustrating to have my close readings interrogated by people who... aren't doing that, like. I do get it. I find myself back in the ditch all the time. This stuff is hard. It is also, sorry, crucial if you intend to say something about a text that's worth saying.
I also hope I've communicated clearly here. Magic story is sufficiently incoherent that trying to develop a thesis about it often feels like trying to nail jello to the wall. If anyone has questions, please ask them! And thank you for reading. Next time, we'll probably do the new Eldraine set.
#phyrexia#not defining the ditch except by implication#thanks to all the very smart vorthoi on the flavor text discord server for helping me work through my thoughts on fascism and phyrexia#this is technically the march of the machine review also#or as much of one as i care to do
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In recent posts I've complained that a lot of tabletop RPGs which toss around the term "fiction first" don't actually understand what it means, and I've been asked to expand on that complaint. So:
In my experience, there are two ways that game texts which want to position themselves as "fiction first" trip themselves up, one obvious and one subtle.
The first and more obvious pitfall is treating "fiction first" as an abstract ideology. They're using "fiction first" as a synonym for "story over rules" in a way that calls back to the role-playing-versus-roll-playing discourse of the early 2000s. The trouble is, now as then, nobody can usefully explain what "story over rules" actually entails. At best, they land on a definition of "fiction first" that talks about the GM's right to ignore the rules to better serve the story, which is no kind of definition at all – it's just putting a funny hat on the Rule Zero fallacy and trying to pass it off as some sort of totalising ideology of play.
A more useful way of defining "fiction first" play is to think of it not in terms of whether you engage with the rules at all, but in terms of when they're invoked: specifically, as a question of order of operations.
Suppose, for example, that you're playing Dungeons & Dragons, and you pick up the dice and say "I attack the dragon". Some critics would claim that no actual narrative has been established – that this is simply a bare invocation of game mechanics – but in fact we can infer a great deal: your character is going to approach the dragon, navigating any inclement terrain which lies between them, and attempt to kill the dragon using the weapon they're holding in their hand. The rules are so tightly bound to a particular set of narrative circumstances that simply invoking those rules lets us work backwards to determine what the context and stakes must be for that invocation of the rules to be sensical; this, broadly speaking, is what "rules first" looks like.
Conversely, let's say that your game of Dungeons & Dragons has confronted you with a pit blocking your path, and you want to make an Athletics check to cross it. At this point the GM is probably going to stop you and say, hold up, tell us what that looks like. Are you trying to jump across it? Are you trying to climb down one wall of the pit and up the other? Are you trying to tie a rope to the halfling and toss them to the other side? In other words, before you can pick up the dice, you need to have a little sidebar with the GM to hash out what the narrative context is, and to negotiate what can be achieved and what's at stake if you mess it up; this, broadly, is what "fiction first" looks like.
At this point I know some people are thinking "wait, hold on – both of those examples were from Dungeons & Dragons; are you saying that Dungeons & Dragons is both a rules-first game and a fiction-first game?" And yeah, I am. That's the second, more subtle place where game texts that talk about "fiction first" go astray: they talk about it as though being "fiction first" or "rules first" is something which is inherent to game systems as a whole.
This is not in fact true: being "fiction first" or "rules first" is something which describes particular invocations of the rules. In practice, only very simple games spend all of their time in one mode or the other; most will switch back and forth at need. Generally, most "traditional" RPGs (i.e., the direct descendants of Dungeons & Dragons and its various imitators) tend to operate in rules-first mode in combat and fiction-first mode out of it, though this is a simplification – when and how such mode-switching occurs can be quite complex.
Like any other design pattern, "fiction first" mechanics are a tool that's well suited for some jobs, and ill suited for others. Sometimes your rules are fine-grained enough that having an explicit negotiation and stakes-setting phase would just be adding extra steps. Sometimes you're using the outputs of the rules a narrative prompt, and having to pin the context down ahead of time would defeat the purpose. Fortunately, you don't have to commit yourself to one approach or the other; as long as your text is clear about how you're assuming a given set of rules toys will be used, you can switch modes as need dictates. However, you're not going to be capable of that kind of transparency if you're thinking in terms of "this a Fiction First™ game".
(Incidentally, this is why it can be hard to talk about "fiction first" with OSR fans if you're being dogmatic about fiction-first framing being an immutable feature of particular games. Since traditional RPGs tend to observe the above-described rules-first-in-combat, fiction-first-out-of-combat division, and OSR games tend to treat actually getting into a fight as a strategic failure state, a lot of OSR games spend most of their time in fiction-first mode. If you go up to an OSR fan and insist that D&D-style games can never be fiction-first, then attempt to define "fiction first" for them and proceed to describe how they usually play, they'll quite justifiably conclude that you have your head up your ass!)
#gaming#tabletop roleplaying#tabletop rpgs#game design#fiction first#violence mention#death mention#swearing
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after the seminar
🌙 staring. Wonwoo x afab!Reader
🔮 preview. In truth, Wonwoo has been tired. You haven’t fucked since the first night of the seminar, and although that was only two days ago, you’re definitely feeling the loss. On top of that, being wined and dined and looked after always makes you hornier than usual, and Wonwoo has been extra ‘husband’ today. He’s just so perfect. Well-mannered, kind, educated- God, you want him so bad.
tw/cw. sugar daddy Wonwoo, gentleman in the streets/softdom in the sheets, reader doesn't want to make choices, daddy/control kink, fingering, multiple orgasms, oral, blow job, deep throating, dirty talk, praise, masturbation, unprotected sex, holding hands while fucking, implied breeding/fullness kink, etc… I pet names: (hers) honey. (his) daddy.
👹 rating.18+ explicit I wc. 6.3k
🍭 aus. sugar daddy au, established relationship, fiance!Wonwoo, etc…
☀️ mlist + an. I know not everyone is into this level of sugar daddy control, but I think there's something to be said about the trust that reader has for Wonwoo. Sometimes I just wanna shut up and let a man do all the work, and today, that man is Wonwoo
Wonwoo’s had few loves in his life. During university, he’d had a love for law, a need to do what was right. In his thirties, he’d found a new soulmate in legislative procedures related to the sustainability and efficiency of whole cities. Finance had been another long-winded lover, and now, on the cusp of forty, Wonwoo’s found the one thing in the world he loves most, you.
Holding your hand while he drives through the city, Wonwoo can’t help but keep some of his attention on you.
Dressed in a tight-fitting red dress he’d bought you for your six-month anniversary in Paris, with your hair and makeup done, you look as stunning as ever. There’s a fat rock on your wedding finger, an engagement ring signifying his loyalty to you, and Wonwoo can’t help himself but play with it a little anytime your hands are linked.
As he makes a turn onto a busy street, the sun practically blinds him, and Wonwoo immediately lets go of you to adjust his visor. You make no movement, so he pulls yours down too, enjoying the way you flash him a small smile and whisper a ‘thank you.’
“You look lost in thought,” he muses, having noted your gaze fixed on the sidewalk trees passing by outside your window. “What’s on your mind?”
“Just thinking about seminar topics,” you admit.
Over the past three days, you’ve accompanied him to multiple talks focused on accessibility, affordability, and green solutions within cities like yours. Tonight marks the last evening of the event, and the two of you are headed to a meet-up with some of Wonwoo’s closest lawyer friends.
Wonwoo loves how diligently you’ve thrown yourself into his work-focused world. Not only do you attend the seminars with him, but you truly make an effort to learn, and that’s never more obvious than when conversing with his colleagues.
Wonwoo’s best friend, Kim Mingyu, has entertained a string of sugar baby relationships, and despite inviting three or four of those women to events like the one you’ve just accompanied Wonwoo to, none of Mingyu’s girls ever took to it the way you do.
You’re one of a kind, and Wonwoo knows how lucky he is to have you.
“I’m sure Seungcheol will have a few things to say about the housing crisis talk,” Wonwoo notes. Choi Seungheol, who had started in law and made the leap to real estate. He now owns half of the new developments being built downtown, and Wonwoo knows this will spur a contentious discussion later.
“He can’t argue with the stats,” you sigh, turning to look at Wonwoo, who threads his fingers with yours again.
“He can try,” Wonwoo smiles softly, giving your hand a gentle squeeze.
You return the smile, turning your attention out the window again.
You’re not voicing anything, but Wonwoo can read you like a book. It used to be his job to pay attention to body language, and while he tries to stay humble, people have called him something of a mind reader.
“It’s been an exhausting three days,” he notes. “We don’t have to be out for long tonight, I’m sure we both need our rest.”
“Hansol flies to New York tomorrow morning,” you remind him. “I want you to have as much time with him as you need before he’s gone.”
Your relationship is always something like this, the two of you caring for each other so deeply that you constantly make small concessions. As always, though, the ball is in Wonwoo’s court. He appreciates the way you can feel to him like an intellectual equal while still being submissive in other senses, although he never abuses this power over you.
He’ll keep an eye on you tonight, and when he notices you getting tired, or your energy depleting, he’ll excuse the both of you from drinks and take you back to his place. Then, he’ll take care of you in the ways only he knows how.
You love Wonwoo. You love him for the big things, his character, his good heart- but you love him for the little things too, the way nothing slips past his line of focus. He’s always a hundred percent on and present with you, holding open every door, guiding you by the small of your back, and pulling out your chair first when you join his friends on the top floor restaurant in the most expensive hotel in the city.
“You look amazing,” Mingyu compliments you, flashing you a toothy grin before standing to greet Wonwoo with a hug. “You definitely know how to pick them,” he praises his friend.
“And look at that ring,” Seungcheol has zeroed in on the diamond on your finger, and he reaches across the table to take your hand and get a better look at it. Wonwoo’s eldest friend has always had an eye for luxury, and he studies the oval rock and silver-colored band. “I’d ask if this is sterling,” he muses, “but if I were a betting man, which I am, I’d say it’s white gold.”
Seungcheol lifts his eyes to meet yours, waiting for an affirmative, which you give with a nod. “You know your metals, Mister Choi.”
“How many times do I have to tell you,” he lifts your hand, pressing a gentle kiss to your fingers, “It’s Seungcheol.”
“Stop flirting with Wonwoo’s girl,” Hansol tuts, pushing at Seungcheol’s shoulder.
The elder man makes a face, brushing off his expensive suit. “Not flirting,” he clarifies. “Although,” his gaze shifts to you again, “if you have any hot friends-”
“Aish,” Wonwoo has rejoined the conversation after greeting Mingyu, and he takes the seat next to you, his arm casually coming around the back of your chair to pull you closer. “What have I told you about asking her for favors?”
“I suppose you’re right,” Sungcheol sighs, sitting back and crossing his arms over his broad chest. “She’s one in a million, aren’t ya, little miss future Jeon to be?”
“Try one in a billion,” Wonwoo corrects, hand finding your thigh now that he’s pulled you close enough. “Have you three ordered drinks yet?”
“We were waiting on you,” Mingyu says, handing Wonwoo a cocktail menu, which he settles between you both so you can also read it. “Their margaritas are pretty good.”
You quickly find a drink you’d like to try, and you wordlessly reach out a manicured nail to tap on it. Wonwoo follows your motion, giving a curt nod, then he leans in to press his lips to your cheek. He waves down the waiter a moment later, and orders you your drink, sparing you the socialization.
This is yet another one of those little things Wonwoo does for you that you find incredibly sexy, and you tuck closer to him, placing your hand over his own on your thigh.
“We should talk about the elephant in the room,” Mingyu sighs, drawing all eyes. You have no idea what he’s about to say, and then he hits the four of you with, “Cheol, you have to admit your new high rises aren’t sustainable or affordable.”
“They’re called luxury suits for a reason,” Seungcheol scoffs. “I’m not in the business of affordable housing.”
Wonwoo grins next to you, looking down and squeezing your hand gently. It’s funny how amusing he finds this whole thing.
“Don’t smirk like that, Woo,” Seungcheol tuts. “As if you didn’t do a walk-through of a penthouse suite in my new highrise last week.”
This is news to you, and you turn to look at your boyfriend. You’re generally not one to question him, and luckily you don’t have to, because Kim Mingyu is just as nosey as you’d sometimes like to be. “You checked out a penthouse? I thought you loved your apartment?”
“I’ve had it for years,” Wonwoo says, and you can tell he’s choosing his words carefully. “However, I can admit that the amenities at Cheol’s new builds are quite impressive.”
“Amenities,” Seungcheol scoffs. “As if that’s what you were actually interested in.”
The two powerful men share a look, and it’s a battle of wills that makes your heart thump loudly in your chest.
What was Wonwoo interested in?
He’s never talked to you about moving, and you’ve been living with him for nearly a year. Besides, Mingyu’s right, Wonwoo adores his apartment. He’s had it forever and it’s decorated exactly the way he likes it. Your bedroom is a lovely corner location with views of the whole city, and his home office is a sanctuary you’ve loved to desecrate.
“We’ll talk about this more another time,” Wonwoo says finally, looking up as your waiter appears with a tray of drinks.
Your cocktail is set in front of Wonwoo, and he gently pushes it toward you before reaching down to give your thigh a squeeze under the table. He picks up his Old Fashioned with his free hand, and Seungcheol raises his own glass in a toast. “To friends and new engagements!”
Seungcheol nods to you before taking a sip of his scotch, and it fills your body with heat to know his friends truly respect and like you. They’re happy to have you joining as a permanent member of their social sphere.
You place your hand on top of Wonwoo’s as you bring your cocktail to your lips.
The discussion moves to details about sustainability, and the men at the table trade opinions on the seminars. Mingyu is fast in his manner of speaking, always intent to prove his point. Cheol is loud and boisterous, scoffing at opinions that don’t align with his own. Hansol is often quiet, but he makes good notes ever so often, and they make the whole table sit and think. And your Wonwoo is as calm and judicial as always, listening to his friends with a contemplative expression even while his thumb draws small circles on your thigh.
You give your own two cents a few times, and your musings are always the most well-received. None of the men at the table are about to pick a fight with you, and they’re attentive whenever you open your mouth, nodding and making one or two comments before getting heated with each other again.
The waiter comes and Seungcheol orders a few appetizers while Wonwoo opens the menu for you. When Wonwoo begins to list three of his own items, you tap your finger on the one you’d like most and he voices that as well.
God, how you love the fact that you only have to lift one little finger with Wonwoo while he does the rest. You really aren’t in a super talkative mood, especially when it comes to mundane tasks like ordering food and drinks. You save your voice to join in on the intellectual conversation taking place, and you prefer things this way.
Seungcheol and Wonwoo begin to argue over rezoning laws, and Hansol turns toward you, leaning closer. “Congratulations on your engagement,” he smiles.
“Thank you,” you grin back.
“Have you guys talked about wedding plans yet?”
Out of all the people in the world, you didn’t think Chwe Hansol would be one of the first to ask you about wedding details.
“We’re thinking destination,” you admit.
“I wouldn’t expect anything else,” Hansol laughs. “And an expensive honeymoon too I bet.”
“Of course,” you grin, playing with the stem of your cocktail glass. “Although, if I’m being honest…” you lean closer to Hansol, lowering your voice while Wonwoo and Seungcheol continue to argue, “as much as I like the lifestyle I have with Wonwoo, you know I’m happy just to be with him.”
“But the expensive trips are a bonus I bet,” Hansol grins.
“I mean… would you say no to a trip to the Maldives?”
Wonwoo’s friend shakes his head, still smiling. “Never.”
“When are you going to find someone?” you ask. Out of all of Wonwoo’s close friends, Hansol is the most level-headed. He’s stable, and kind, and if you weren’t so into Wonwoo, you’d even admit Hansol is quite handsome in his own way.
“Someday,” Hansol sighs. “Maybe you’ll have cute bridesmaids at your wedding.”
“I’ll put in a good word for you,” you assure him.
Hansol laughs. “I’d appreciate that.”
Food begins to arrive at the table, and you sit up straight again, tucking close to Wonwoo. He’s done this thing, ever since your first date, where he helps plate food for you, and for some reason, it’s always been a huge turn-on.
You like getting baby girl treatment, and you watch Wonwoo with a grin while he cuts through some carpaccio and sets up a piece for you. He makes sure to get a little bit of everything on your plate before putting anything on his own, and his friends are already digging in by the time he’s gotten the both of you settled.
“Do you want anything else?” he asks, always the type to be certain he’s pleased you.
“This looks perfect,” you lean in and press a kiss to his cheek, lingering by his ear so he’s the only one who can hear you when you say, “Thank you, Daddy.”
Wonwoo reaches down and squeezes your thigh, the only sign you have that your words have done something to him. He’s not the type to be big on PDA, and it’s the little things like a constant touch, or acts of service, that remind you he loves you as much as you love him.
You wait for Wonwoo to lift a carpaccio bread spread to his lips before you reach for your own, mirroring his motions so you can experience the food together.
You hadn’t been a carpaccio fan before meeting Wonwoo, but he’s expanded your pallet in the time you’ve known him, and you’re extremely thankful for this opportunity - as well as others - that he’s provided for you.
“Look at you two loved-up foodies,” Seungcheol sighs from across the table, watching you with eyes trained to assess.
Wonwoo only grins, reaching for his drink to take a sip. You follow that motion too, smirking over the rim of your glass before downcasting your eyes.
There’s no need to respond to Seuncheol’s comment because it’s an apt description of the pair of you.
“Stop being jealous,” Mingyu grins, reaching out to push at Seungcheol’s shoulder.
“Never going to happen,” Seungcheol retorts.
You know he’s in the market for a sugar baby, and Wonwoo’s told you how often Seungcheol brings you up when you’re not around. Apparently, his eldest friend is adamant that you’re one of the most perfect sugar babies he’s ever seen, and you wonder if maybe you should try to hook him up with one of your friends at the wedding. Give Cheol the Hansol treatment. However, in contrast to Hansol’s laid-back expectations, you’d have to give your Cheol-intended friend a cheat sheet booklet on how to please a rich man.
“Just watch,” Seungcheol continues, “these two are going to sneak off early and go to the bathroom or something. They’re sitting much too close together, and we’ve all noticed Wonwoo’s hand under the table.”
To show his innocence, Wonwoo lifts the hand in question. “We’re not doing anything,” he assures his friends calmly. “Although… unfortunately, we will have to leave early after appetizers.”
This is news to you, and you look at Wonwoo for further clarification, which he gives when pressed by Seungcheol.
“It’s been a long seminar,” Wonwoo explains, letting out a sigh of exhaustion. “I’d say Honey needs her beauty rest, but I think we all know I’m not so nice when I’ve been sleep deprived.”
You love it when he calls you Honey, in fact, he uses that name for you more than your legal one.
Seungcheol lets out a groan, but he doesn’t push further, because Wonwoo’s excuse is true. He’s never been rude to you when tired, but he definitely has a ‘don’t fuck with me’ attitude when he wakes up on the wrong side of the bed.
“We’ve got a meeting tomorrow morning,” Mingyu agrees. “Maybe I should get another drink and call it a night too.”
“Come on Gyu,” Seungcheol scoffs. “I’ll let these two ditch, but this is Hansol’s last night in the city, I thought we could go to a roof on one of my new waterfront builds and hit some golf balls at the sea.”
“Right, because that’s very environmentally friendly,” Wonwoo tuts.
“Jesus, you are tired, aren’t you?” Seungcheol laughs.
It’s a rhetorical question, and Wonwoo simply lifts another appetizer to his mouth, chewing with a tight-lipped grin.
In truth, Wonwoo has been tired. You haven’t fucked since the first night of the seminar, and although that was only two days ago, you’re definitely feeling the loss. On top of that, being wined and dined and looked after always makes you hornier than usual, and Wonwoo has been extra ‘husband’ today.
He’s just so perfect. Well-mannered, kind, educated-
God, you want him so bad.
You take a sip of your cocktail again before resting your hand on Wonwoo’s thigh, and he stops what he’s doing to look down at your fingers toying with his pants. Then his gaze rises to you, and he cocks his head slightly, obviously a little stunned by how forward you’re being tonight.
It’s such a small motion, but it speaks volumes, and when paired with a small flutter of your lashes, Wonwoo reads you like he reads the books in his impressive office library.
Part of you wants to toy with him, wants to tease your touch up to his crotch just to see if you can get him hard at dinner with his friends, but you know that would lead to something akin to consequence.
As easy as it is for Wonwoo to read you, he’s not such an open book and his reactions vary drastically. You don’t want to push your luck today, not after you’ve been such a good girl for him for three seminars straight.
You remove your hand before playing with fire gets you burned, and the two of you continue to finish your appetizers. Each bite is one step closer to leaving with Wonwoo, but you try to take your time, try not to be too glutenous to make way for lust.
Wonwoo finished eating and he lifts his drink with his left hand, his right palm finding your thigh again. His touch is soothing, gentle, but it still stirs a fire within you.
You shift your knee, letting it rest against his, and you sip your cocktail trying to pay attention to what Mingyu’s saying about the stock market.
Wonwoo is generally quite the stocks man. He pays attention to Mingyu, but you can tell his focus is still partially on you, and you reach down to play with his fingers, enjoying how pretty his hands are.
You need him so badly.
That’s when you realize Wonwoo has almost finished his drink, and you quickly grab at yours too, wanting to reach the bottom of your own cup.
You’ve not been drinking since the seminar started, and the booze in your cocktail definitely heightens your senses. An electric tingle consumes your form, and it’s getting harder to ignore the panties sticking to your core.
The conversation reaches a lull, and Wonwoo lets out a sigh, squeezing your legs. “Well, it’s been fun,” he says, “but Honey and I should get going.”
“One more drink,” Seungcheol practically begs, already lifting a hand to call over a waiter.
“Not tonight,” Wonwoo says, soft but firm.
He stands up first, grabbing your hand to help you out of your own seat. “Good luck with your flight tomorrow, Hansol,” he nods to the man on your right.
“Good luck with wedding planning,” Hansol retorts, rising from his chair to pull you and Wonwoo into a hug.
Hansol’s not usually a touchy guy, and the hug means something. It’s a true acceptance that you’re permanently a part of Wonwoo’s life, and it means the world to you.
“Now I want a hug,” Mingyu also stands, holding out his arms for you and Wonwoo.
With a laugh, your fiance’s hand finds the small of your back and he guides you into Mingyu’s warm embrace, trapping you between their large bodies.
Now you’re really turned on.
Seungcheol doesn’t stand, he simply watches, lips all pouty. “Let me know about that penthouse,” he muses. “I’ve got some foreign buyers already wanting a walk through and I won’t hold it forever.”
“I’ll get back to you,” Wonwoo promises, giving one last nod to Seungcheol before he begins to guide you out of the restaurant.
As you make it to the front desk, Wonwoo stops and addresses the staff member there. “I’m going to take care of my table’s bill tonight.”
“I’ll put it on your tab, Mr. Jeon.” She nods, typing something into the ipad infront of her.
“That was kind of you,” you muse as Wonwoo escorts you into the elevator that will lead to the underground where his expensive Mercedes is parked.
“We’re leaving early, it’s the least I could do.”
“You know… I hope we didn’t leave on my account,” you say, thinking about the conversation you’d had in the car earlier.
Wonwoo leans down close to you, grinning. “I can safely say we left due to my own personal needs, although they’re not sleep-related.”
“You really like this dress, don’t you, Daddy?” you smile, wrapping your arms around the back of his neck while his hands settle on your hips.
“I like what’s under it,” he retorts, which is a cheeky response by Wonwoo’s standards.
“Been missing my body, haven’t you?”
“More than you realize.”
Wonwoo had kept his composure on the drive home. He’d even kept his hands mostly to himself on the way up to your apartment, but your stoic lover is on you the moment the door to your home is closed behind you both.
He presses you up against the wall, grabbing your waist and tugging you close while simultaneously blocking you up against the hard surface at your back. His lips are hot against your own, his tongue invading your mouth and making you giggle as you grab the front of his shirt, already popping buttons open.
You release a moan when he reaches down and cups your core, pushing up your dress to access your lacey panties. “Where do you want it, honey?” he asks, biting at your lip.
“I don’t want to think tonight,” you admit, tired from days of brain power.
You love that Wonwoo likes to check in with you. He’s not the type to simply throw you over a kitchen counter and rail you when you might prefer the bed or even the shower- but at the same time, as soon as you give him full control, Wonwoo’s very good at taking charge.
“I’ll take care of you,” Wonwoo promises, pushing your panties to the side so he can slide two fingers against your heated core. You can feel how wet you are, and the contact against your clit has you whining, grabbing his face to bring his mouth to yours again while he pushes two digits knuckle deep into your aching core.
You’re sensitive from a few days without being touched, and it feels like heaven to have Wonwoo worshipping you like this again. You tangle your fingers in his hair as he draws his mouth down to your jaw then your throat, peppering your skin in kisses that have you shivering with pleasure.
“Daddy-” you whimper, your hips thrusting toward his hand as he works you open, palming your clit with delicious pressure.
“I know, Honey, I know,” he soothes, and between gasped breaths and moans, you can hear your pussy squelching already.
It’s getting harder and harder to stand on your shaky legs, your heels not meant for standing sex or heavy petting like this. But it’s also clear to you that Wonwoo has no intention of stopping his motions until you’ve cum on his fingers, so you do your best to grab his shoulders, steadying yourself while that wonderful feeling builds in the pit of your stomach.
“I’ve missed this pussy,” Wonwoo tells you, voice low. It’s not often that he uses vulgarity, even in the bedroom, and his words betray how much he truly needs you. Your skin tingles with excitement, pussy throbbing, heart thundering in your chest-
It’s crazy how one sentence can nearly shortcircuit your brain when paired with Wonwoo using his hands like this- stroking the parts of you that he knows better than anyone else in the world.
Your fiance has taken his sweet time getting to know your body, and it shows in moments like these.
“I’m so close-” you gasp, digging your nails into his shoulders. You should care about his expensive suit jacket, but you don’t- all that matters is the orgasm you’re desperately chasing, hips moving to ride Wonwoo’s hand while his unrelenting fingers get you closer and closer to the edge-
“Come on, honey,” Wonwoo grins, mouth returning to the spot on your neck that always makes you go feral, “cum for me.”
One more rough thrust with his fingers has you moaning, tumbling past the edge as your orgasm overtakes you.
If you’d nearly been falling over before this, you almost crumple to the floor with all the pleasure coursing through you now. Wonwoo’s free arm loops around your waist, and he presses you closer to the wall, keeping you propped up while his hand continues between your shaking thighs.
He releases a low groan, and you can feel his cock pressing through his pants by your hip. You feel delirious already, body pulsing, skin tingling. Wonwoo’s broad shoulders are your lifeline, and you grip them desperately, taking everything he has to give you like the good girl you are.
“Wonwoo-” you whimper, seeking out his lips, cupping his face to draw him closer. His tongue glides against your own, and you’re enough of a distraction that his fingers begin to slow inside of you.
Finally, he pulls his hand away from between your thighs, dragging his lips from yours so he can sink his digits into his mouth. You watch him lick them clean, listening to the groan of satisfaction that escapes him while you do your best to catch your breath.
“You’re always so good for me,” Wonwoo tells you, lifting his gaze to yours again.
You swallow thickly, mind swimming, searching for a response. “You deserve it,” you assure him finally.
“And I know what you deserve tonight,” he retorts.
In one quick motion, he lifts you up bridal style. One of your stilettos crashes to the floor from the sudden way your body has just been swung like a rag doll, but neither of you care as Wonwoo carries you through the apartment toward the bedroom.
You can’t help the giggle that escapes you. Wonwoo always makes you feel like a princess, and he looks like a classic prince while doing it. His side profile is so regal- all sharp bones and pretty lips. God- how did you ever get this lucky?
When you get to your destination, Wonwoo is gentle when he sets you onto the mattress. He straightens and looks down at your form, letting out a deep breath.
“Can you take that pretty dress off for me, honey?” he asks, already shrugging off his suit jacket and setting it over a chair nearby.
“Of course, daddy,” you grin, reaching down to grab at the hem of the silky outfit, dragging it up your thigh.
His eyes are glued to you even as he works on his cuff links, and you take your sweet time as he makes it to the buttons of his shirt. The dress has a corset style back, and you tug on the ribbon before slowly working it open.
Wonwoo doesn’t say anything, but you can see his breathing pick up as the fabric gets less tight on your chest, revealing more and more of your bralessness.
When he makes it to his pants, you remove the dress, leaving you in nothing but your thong, which is soaked through.
Your fiance swallows thickly. “Panties too, honey. I don’t think I have the patience to wait any longer tonight.”
His lack of patience is clear in the way his cock slaps up against his abdomen, released by the pants now pooled by his feet.
Wonwoo looks like a fucking God, especially while naked. He’s lean but muscled, and you’ve spent hours tracing each ridge and bone. His cock is an impressive length of around seven inches, it’s pale like the rest of him, but when he’s really turned on, it flushes in colour.
Right now, his cock is a pinkish red, and you can see the angry tip already leaking desperately.
You stand up, sneaking a kiss to his lips while hooking your fingers in your panties. Pushing them down, you get onto your knees.
“Honey, you don’t have to-”
“Maybe I’m impatient too, have you ever thought of that, daddy?” you ask, grabbing the base of his length and leaning forward to kitten lick the tip.
Wonwoo releases a low groan, reaching down to thread his fingers through your hair.
“I’ve missed you,” you murmur, enjoying the way he reacts when you kiss his cock gently. “Missed the weight of you in my mouth.”
“Fuck-”
It’s not often that Wonwoo curses, and the word goes straight to your core.
“Can I touch myself while I suck you off, daddy?”
“I’d be upset if you didn’t,” he admits. “I want you dripping when I finally pull you off my cock and fuck you the way you like it.”
You whimper, your whole body alight with energy as you take him into your mouth. You’re already practically drooling from his fingers earlier and the dirty talk now, which makes it easy to coat him in spit.
You’ve never been able to take all of Wonwoo in your mouth, but you do your best, gripping the base and bobbing your head while you begin to toy with your clit.
“That’s it, pretty girl,” Wonwoo groans, taking a deep breath as his hand guides you on his cock. “Always so good for me.”
The praise only makes you suck on him harder. You sink so far down onto him that his tip hits the back of your throat. You feel yourself constrict around him and Wonwoo lets out a loud moan, fingers flexing in your hair.
“Careful, honey, I don’t want you to choke,” he tells you, but his voice has lost it’s usual commanding tone. He’ll let you do anything you want to him, even if it means gagging on cock- but he’ll do his best to be gentle with you verbally at least.
You get lost in the feeling of pleasuring him, closing your eyes and letting your mouth show him how much you’ve missed him… however, not in so many words.
Actions speak volumes, especially in this case.
You continue working on your pussy too, eventually slipping two fingers into your wet core, which makes you moan around Wonwoo’s cock.
“Honey-” he groans.
You can tell that he’s on the verge of breaking, so you pull off his length, looking up at him while catching your breath. “Ready to fuck me now, daddy?”
“I’ve been ready all night,” he grins, reaching down to grab your hand and help you to your feet.
He kisses you then, cupping your face and leaning forward, taking your breath away all over again. His palm flatens against the small of your back and he dips you backward- then you’re falling, a small squeal escaping you-
The fall is only an inch or two, and you hit the mattress, Wonwoo bearing down on your form almost immediately. You grab at his shoulders as his lips find yours, your legs wrapping around his lean hips to tug him closer.
His cock is still wet with your spit, and it rubs deliciously through your soaked folds, bumping your clit and making you moan into the kiss.
As impatient as Wonwoo seemed to be, he’s not quick to adjust himself against you- or at least, not quick enough for your liking, so you reach between your bodies and grab his cock, lining him up with your wet hole.
Wonwoo grins against your lips, and in one motion, he sinks into your core.
You moan loudly, digging your nails into his strong shoulders and throwing your head back as he fills you perfectly, stretching out your walls.
Your fiance takes the opportunity to kiss your neck, finding your sweet spot.
He feels like heaven- you’re really not sure how long you’ll be able to last tonight, but that’s never mattered with Wonwoo. You have forever with this man, which means you can be as fast or slow as you’d like to be.
He begins to thrust in and out of your core, and it makes you cry out again, walls contracting around his cock. You can feel him so deeply, especially as he adjusts your legs, pushing your thighs closer to your chest.
“Wonwoo-” you whimper, not a care in the world for using a ‘correct’ title. Your fiance might enjoy the daddy kink, but he’s never been the type to punish you for slipping up and calling him something different.
It’s clear to both of you how far gone you are, and Wonwoo only grins against your throat, picking up his pace.
“How about you rub your clit for me, honey?” he asks.
You’re not one to question him, and your hand slips between your bodies to seak out the sensitive nub. More sounds of pleasure escape you as you begin to rub yourself, and your moans only push Wonwoo to fuck you harder.
Each thrust has his cock hitting a spot deep inside of you, and it’s making you delirious.
Wonwoo finds your free hand, threading your fingers and using you as leverage as he presses you against the mattress. His breath is hot on your throat, but soon he’s seaking out your lips again, and you eagerly kiss him as if your life depends on it.
There’s an orgasm building in the pit of your stomach, spurred on by your fingers on your clit and the cock filling you up with each rough thrust.
Wonwoo doesn’t need to check in on you, and you don’t need to tell him you’re close, you’re certain he can tell. He tightens his grip on your hand, a silent invitation to let go whenever you want.
Each drag of his cock against your inner walls draws you closer and closer to the edge, and when he breaks the kiss to lick your throat, it allows you to focus entirely on the pleasure between your legs.
“Fuck, daddy-” you whimper, back arching as you shift below him.
“I know, honey,” he groans. “Me too.”
“Yeah?” Your body jitters with near orgasmic bliss. “Can you cum with me?”
“Of course, just tell me when.”
“Please-” you moan, writhing against the sheets as he fucks you even harder. “Please, daddy- I want you to fill me up-”
Wonwoo groans, teeth dragging by the sensitive skin of your throat.
“Please, please- fuck, I’m almost there-” you rub your clit harder, body tensing on the precipice of your orgasm-
“Shit,” Wonwoo tightens his grip on your hand to the point where it almost hurts- and even though he doesn’t say it, it’s clear to you that he’s reached his own high.
The thought that Wonwoo is so turned on he’s just cum before you - something that never happens - is enough to drag you over the edge, your core clamping down on his cock, eager to milk him for everything he’s worth while you cry out in ecstasy.
He’s gasping against your throat, thrusts even deeper now- slow, steady little ruts as he coats your insides with him cum, filling you up perfectly.
You get lost in the feeling of him, squeezing his hand back as a silent encouragement while your pussy continues to squeeze his cock, eager to get every last drop.
When he finally comes to a stop, he simply lays on top of you for a moment, the both of you breathing heavily.
“Wonwoo?”
“Yes, honey?”
“I’ve just remembered-” you pull your hand away from your clit, instead moving to stroke his hair, “What did Seungcheol mean about the penthouse you were looking at?”
Wonwoo lets out a small chuckle. “Do you really want me to spoil the surprise?”
“Yes, please.”
Your fiance pulls away from your throat, looking down at you. “I’ve been thinking we might need a bigger place… one that could accommodate a few extra rooms.”
“Extra rooms?” you cock a brow.
“For any kids we might have, you know, after we’re married.”
Your entire body tingles with excitement.
While the two of you have talked about children in a general manner before, nothing has ever been set in stone. But you suppose now that you’re engaged, it’s natural this sort of thing would be on Wonwoo’s mind.
“How do you feel about that?” Wonwoo asks.
“I feel like…” you swallow thickly, “I want you to fill me up again, and also that I should book a doctor's appointment to discuss going off birth control.”
“I can definitely help you with that first one,” Wonwoo grins, pressing chaste kisses all across your face while you giggle and hold him tighter.
“We’re really doing this,” you whisper.
Wonwoo’s thumb brushes by the ring on your wedding finger. “Honey, I couldn’t imagine doing it with anyone else.”
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🔮 preview. You pull away just as his lips are about to meet yours. “You know how appreciative I am whenever daddy gets me a present,” you say, acting innocent. This only makes him laugh, and he grabs the back of your head, pulling you into a passionate kiss. You know buying things for you does the same thing to Wonwoo that it does to you. He loves seeing the excitement in your eyes, the way you light up at gifts. He truly lives to provide for you.
cw/ tw. Unprotected sex, mentions of breeding kink/wanting to get reader pregnant, sugar daddy Wonwoo, daddy kink, soft dom!Wonwoo, oral, pussy eating, fingering, breif edging, squirting, groping, sickly sweet loved up sex, crying during sex cuz reader is so in love, mentions of pain kink, hair pulling, teasing, dirty talk, fucking on a kitchen counter, Wonwoo talks about reader getting ‘plump’ with pregnancy, he adores the ‘soft bits’, etc. I petnames. (hers) honey (his) daddy.
👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 4k I teaser wc. 300
🌙 staring. Wonwoo x afab!Reader
bonus
“Can I take this off yet?” you ask, wobbling in your heels as you grab at the silk blindfold blocking your vision.
“Be patient, honey,” Wonwoo breathes in your ear, his hands firm on your hips as he guides you to whatever surprise destination he has in store for you tonight.
Christmas is a week away, and the last time he blindfolded you like this was for your birthday. He’d taken you to a Mercedes dealership to let you choose any car you wanted. You have no clue what he has in store for you now, and you’re practically shaking with excitement.
You know he’s driven you somewhere, and you’ve been in an elevator, so it must not be another car- your list of gift possibilities is somewhat thin. You have a hunch, but you don’t want to get ahead of yourself just in case you’re wrong about where your fiance is leading you.
Wonwoo’s lips find your throat, and his hands stop you in your tracks. His breath is hot by your ear a moment later, and he lets out something like a contented sigh. “Okay. Let me help you take this off.”
His deft fingers work at the loose knot behind your head; soon the blindfold slips away.
Your eyes adjust to the light, and you blink while taking in the space in front of you. You’re in a large open-concept kitchen, a living room sprawled in front of you with views of the whole city. The decor is lavish luxury, and you recognize the design concept as a Choi Seungcheol special when you notice a specific lighting fixture that Cheol puts in all his expensive builds.
“Wonwoo-” you breathe, mind spinning.
The man behind you flattens his chest against your back, wrapping his arms around your frame while he rests his head on your shoulder. “Do you like it?”
“Is this…”
“It’s ours,” your fiance confirms. “I wanted to show it to you on Christmas day, but I couldn’t help myself.”
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—gender neutral reader, teen gojo x reader hence the preferred use of glasses, established relationship, slight cursing, just a fluffy scenario i had to post with my crippling gojo brainrot before i hibernate once again
“ah.” GOJO says flatly out of nowhere. “my head's starting to hurt.”
you subtly glance at him from the reflection of the opposing side of the train's tinted windows, watching the way he removes his glasses and rubs at his eyes. you inwardly sigh.
“i can't tell if you're being serious or you just want attention.”
gojo gasps dramatically from beside you, “why would i lie about something like that?”
“can you really blame me for being distrusting?” you say blankly, giving him and and his offended face the stink eye, “especially with the amount of times you've whined out to me like some child who wants to get uppies from his mother?”
you silently relish in the way he stays silent, pouting at you whilst a victorious grin rests on your lips, your gaze returning back to the novel in your hands.
“told you so.”
he whines your name in defeat and lays his head against your shoulder, “my head does hurt though...”
the way he said it urges you to think that he is, indeed, not kidding, and most definitely wasn't just seeking attention—voice stripped of any type of cheeriness, coming out hoarse more than anything.
you pursue your lips as your gaze quickly flits to his face, before dropping to the sunglasses situated on his lap, folded neatly as his eyes are closed shut.
right. the object reminds you of what is probably causing him the headache. six eyes.
your heart nearly cracks at the small grimace on his expression, jaw clenched as his arms are crossed, head still leaning against your shoulder as he focuses on heaving steady breaths. you immediately feel bad now. terrible. horrid.
“toru,” you say, alarmed, slightly panicking as you drop your novel onto your lap, hand situating themselves on both sides of his face as his eyes still remain shut. “i thought you said the glasses helped?”
“they do,” he croaks out, the grimace slowly disappearing as he takes in the warmth of your palms, “but they don't just block out everything, you know.”
“did you overuse your eyes again?” you're ready to scold him, he can tell from the way your tone is slowly turning into one of a nagging mother hen. “this is why you should use blindfolds.”
he only breathes a noise of contentment when you start rubbing circles on his temples, practically melting in your hold.
“well—to be fair,” he starts, one eye opening, and sarcasm still evidently present even with a headache, “we were up against a pretty tricky special grade earlier. i may be the strongest, but that doesn't mean i should let my guard down. you told me that yourself.”
you hold back the urge to roll your eyes, instead staring at him unamused. you caress his cheek gently, “close your eyes, idiot.”
your annoying boyfriend deliberately opens both as if to spite you, cheekily smiling as he stares back at you, “i can still see cursed energy even if i do, babe.”
you still aren't impressed. he chuckles at your expression.
“plus, my headache disappears faster when i see pretty girls.”
“oh, fuck off,” you angrily pinch his cheeks in response as he yelps out in pain, before opting to cover his eyes with one of your hands instead. you feel his eyelashes as he blinks in confusion at the gesture.
“does this help?”
“not really. i can still see cursed energy.”
“oh.” you move to remove your hand, “my bad—”
what you don't expect next is that he keeps your hand in place above his eyes with his own, feeling your knuckles under his palm as he moves to rest his head against your shoulder once more, his eyes still covered by your palm.
“i thought it didn't help?”
“it doesn't but i like you touching me.”
you blink, clearly weirded out by the way he worded that.
“...seriously?”
“yeah, darling. now, as much as i like your voice—i really want to sleep right now, so be quiet before i kiss you stupid right here in public.”
you immediately and effectively shut up at that, hearing an awkward cough from the man sitting across from you. you send him an apologetic look, before glaring at gojo, who's now snoozing his way to wonderland.
you have an inkling that he probably won't be wearing blindfolds anytime soon. especially with how he's grinning like a madman even in his sleep with your hand over his eyes.
you sigh—noting to bring a blindfold each time you go out with the man from now on, not wanting a sore arm everytime you take the train home. you can already picture him pouting in response.
“the child that you are, gojo satoru,” you murmur whilst leaning against his head, pressing a chaste kiss to his temple.
“...you're lucky i love you.”
extra:
donning his sunglasses as he exits the train, he cheerily says, “that was the best nap of my life!”
his headache is gone, which is a relief—but unfortunately, yours is still standing right in front of you.
you clutch your numb arm—already feeling the soreness that'll come after shortly.
“i take it back. i hate you.”
“aw, love you too, bae.”
Zzzz...
#gojo x reader#gojo satoru x reader#gojo x you#gojo satoru x you#jjk x reader#jjk scenarios#jujutsu kaisen x reader#har❗fiction
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picturing Dustin watching at the trailer park, right after Eddie says, “Hey, Steve? Make him pay.”
And for some reason Dustin’s reminded of ‘84, of his conversation with Steve on the railroad tracks, it’s like before it’s gonna storm, you know? You can’t see it, but you can feel it, like this, uh... electricity, you know?—although he’s grown enough to suspect that Steve might not know everything in that regard.
And it’s not electricity he senses, not exactly, but it’s definitely a storm of some kind: something fragile. Something—someone—that’s very scared.
Dustin’s running before he’s even registered his decision. “Steve!”
Steve turns around, and he already looks like he’s about to ask a question—something practical, like whether Dustin’s forgotten something—and Dustin feels a twist of regret, that that’s where Steve’s mind goes; yeah, they’re all ready for battle, so it makes sense, but…
Feeling suddenly very young, Dustin barrels into Steve and hugs him.
He hears Steve’s surprised inhale, his hesitancy, before he returns the hug in full force.
For a little while, it’s like the world narrows down to only this. No ash in the air, no nightmarish red in the sky. Just the two of them.
Dustin’s about to pull away when he feels Steve’s chin dig into the top of his head. Hears him sniff, very quietly, like he’s trying to hide it; and that makes Dustin think of the tunnels, or afterwards, really, when Steve held onto him with shaking hands, kept saying, “We’re okay, we’re okay.”
So he just keeps hugging back.
Steve’s the one to let go; he’s smiling, but he looks a little sad too, forehead creased with worry.
“I need a ride tomorrow,” Dustin says.
Steve huffs. “Oh, yeah? Where to?”
Dustin taps his nose obnoxiously. “That’s for me to know and you to find out.”
It’s bullshit, of course; Dustin doesn’t need a ride anywhere.
Steve rolls his eyes, but some tightness in his jaw finally eases. “God, you’re such a dick.”
“Bright and early, Steve!” Dustin adds smugly. “Five am!”
“Yeah, yeah,” Steve says, waving him off, and for a moment it’s like they’re just in the school parking lot. He looks as if he’s about to say something else, then thinks better of it—glances back to where Robin and Nancy are waiting. He pulls Dustin in with one arm, a brief but tight hold. Nods, as if to himself. “Go on, scram.”
Dustin runs back to the trailer with a stitch in his side but a smile on his face. He knows it’s naive to think he can fix everything, but in this moment at least some part of the universe has been righted, even while in The Upside Down.
Eddie’s standing right where he left him, like he’s been frozen the whole time.
“Hey,” he says quietly. “is he, uh… is he okay?”
Dustin’s reminded that of course, Steve isn’t the only one who’s scared.
“Yeah, he will be,” he says, which he thinks is a more accurate answer than a simple yes or no.
It’s funny how life works, he muses while gathering supplies for the trailer defences. There’s no way he’d have thought even a week ago that Eddie would be sincerely asking him about Steve’s well-being. Whenever he happened to bring Steve up at Hellfire, Eddie would imitate him in a comedic falsetto, “Oh, Steve this, Steve that.”
For a minute, Eddie remains rooted to the spot, still staring in the direction of where Steve went—like he’d watched helplessly as Steve walked into the eye of a storm or something.
“You just gonna stand there and gawk?” Dustin says.
Eddie snorts. “So rude, Henderson.”
And it’s not like Dustin really knows, not when Steve and Eddie are still barely dancing around it themselves. Still, he can pick up on some things.
Like when they’ve finished setting up everything, waiting for the go-ahead for Eddie to start playing his guitar—to pass the time, they recount the high points of the day, keep it light. It’s a practice Eddie used to implement after campaigns.
And look, Dustin’s damn good at picking up on patterns. Like, he loves Steve, but he’s pretty sure the reality of him driving the hotwired RV doesn’t quite match up to how Eddie’s currently waxing lyrical about it.
He’s making it sound like it was something outta James Bond, Dustin thinks, when he’s sure Steve drove right into several trash cans.
Suddenly he knows exactly what he should do.
“Steve this, Steve that,” he sing-songs.
Eddie flushes; Dustin cackles.
“Fuck off,” Eddie says, but he’s smiling as Dustin keeps laughing, like he knows there’s nothing mean-spirited in it. He keeps going, Steve this, Steve that, talking right over Dustin’s teasing—somehow finding even more moments where Steve truly shines.
And Dustin doesn’t know everything, not even close, but at the very least, he knows that this feels right.
#i just love writing perceptive Dustin#think it’s partly the thought that “you’re my brother and I love all of you”#steddie with dustin’s pov#dustin henderson fic#steve and dustin#eddie and dustin#steddie#pre steddie#steddie ficlet#implied steddie#steve x eddie#dustin henderson ficlet#dustin henderson#steve harrington#eddie munson#henderfam
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No Nut November Hcs With The Hashiras
the title says it all!! (i didnt include muichiro for obvious reasons)
🥀Cw: smut, dirty talk, praise, degradation, breeding kink (rengoku + sanemi), squirting (mitsuri)
🥀minors dni
🥀Pairing(s): Hashiras(minus muichiro) x reader (seperate)
Giyuu
when you first suggested the idea of NNN to giyuu, he was kinda confused
why would you participate in a competition not to have sex? did you just not want to have sex with him?
after some gentle reassurance and explanation however, he agrees surprisingly quickly
not only is giyuu ridiculously patient, he also has incredible self restraint
he would make it to the end of the month, but i definitely think he would have "almost" moments
when the month is over, hes begging you to fuck him
claims that hes waited so long, why should he have to do any work?
the minute it's december first hes waking you up, mewling and grinding on your thigh half-delirious as hes whining in your ear, begging you to take control
teasing him throughout the month will only make him more determined to last longer, if only to inflict the same suffering onto you
giyuu is very, very sensitive and you can use that to your advantage in a variety of ways
he gets really blushy when you tease him, and its only amplified during NNN considering he can't even get himself off
he also has a tough time ignoring it when he gets horny, he just feels like the type to be soooo sensitive and it's torture when he can't even jack off to relieve the painful ache in his pants
Giyuu pinned you down, his chest flush with your back as his cock rubbed against your hole. He was a panting mess, shaking above you as he pushed inside slowly. One of his hands tangled itself in your hair, forcing you to look over your shoulder as he began to thrust into you steadily. Soft moans and whimpers filled the room, accompanied by the sound of skin slapping again skin. You could feel your orgasm building as a coil tightened in your stomach, and Giyuu let out a soft groan, signaling he was close as well. You clenched around him tightly, your release ripping through you as you clawed at the sheets. Above you, Giyuu tossed his head back and whispered your name like a prayer before cumming as well, filling your hole with his dripping seed. "Giyuu- ungh- wha-" you gasped, drool spilling from your lips as he sped up the pace. You had no time to catch your breath, and your hips jerked from overstimulation. "baby, i've waited a month, please?" Giyuu whispered in your ear, eyes blown wide with lust. You knew that you probably weren't going to be getting up anytime soon.
Tengen
im sorry but he is not making the month
he'd last two weeks at best
you and his wives would probably all team up against him, and this man is unable to restrain himself when it comes to you
quickest way to get tengen to fold? lingerie
just the sight of you in some flashy, lacy undergarments has him practically dragging you to bed
teasing him while wearing lingerie? hes gone.
"fuck the stupid month," he'd grumble, throwing you over his shoulder and slapping your ass for good measure
tengen would be rougher than usual, hes pissed at you for teasing him after all
"hey!" you gasped, squirming in Tengens grip as he practically dragged you inside of the house. You and the other wives had been been training outside when all of a sudden Tengen had snatched you up, throwing you over his shoulder as the other wives followed behind you. Your husband ignored your indignated cries as he brought you to the bedroom and tossed you unceremoniously onto the mattress. Maki, Suma, and Hinatsuru joined you on the mattress, and you turned to look over your shoulder at Tengen. "giving up already?" you giggle, crawling over to the other wives at the head of the bed. Tengen Tengen smirked and slid up to you, pulling your undergarments off in seconds as your head rested in Hinatsuru's lap. Maki and Suma began to grind against eachother to your left as Tengen's breath fanned over your bare skin and thighs while Hinatsuru ran her fingers through your hair. The five of you were in for a long, long night~
Shinobu
Shinobu is definitely making it, no questions asked
she's patient enough to wait the month, however she will be pissed when you deny her
would totally try to get back at you, Shinobu would wear lingerie under her uniform and flash you when nobody was looking
she would run her hands up and down your thighs during hashira meetings, fingers ghosting so close to where you want her but not quite
she would enter a room and sit on your lap, kissing you senseless until your grinding up against her and then walk away like nothing happened
she's teasing YOU
i don't think theres any way to get her to give in, but at 12:01 on December 1st your waking up to her head between your legs
she would make you work for every orgasm, edging you until your sobbing
"you made me wait for so long, shouldn't i make you wait a little too?"
Shinobu smirked, gently swiping away the tears streaming down your cheeks. She placed a finger on your tongue so you could taste the salty drops, and you let out another needy sob. "Are you getting desperate already, little butterfly?" She cooed, thrusting her fingers deeper inside of you. Another mewl escaped your lips as she fucked you dumb on her fingers, stretching you open and prodding the place inside you that made you see stars. You could feel the coil in your stomach tightening, and you whimpered. "Pl-please Nobu, 'm gonna cum, please lemme cum-mgh-" Shinobu smirked at you, smacking your core lightly as you squirmed beneath her. She leaned down to whisper in your ear, caressing your sides slowly. "Shh, c'mon doll, I know you can take it. You made me wait a month to ruin you, didn't you? You can handle waiting a little longer to come~" Your body quaked at her words, soft sobs and pleads filling the air as you begged her to let you cum this time. Shinobu only shook her head, smirking and removing her hand as your orgasm begins to fade.
i went off there for a sec omg
Rengoku
i think he would make it without too much trouble
i really don't think his sex drive is super high, and hes pretty patient as it is
so yea i def think he'd make it
unleeeesssss you teased him
listen, Rengoku LOOOOVES to please you
if you bat your lashes and play your cards right, he'll fold you in half and fuck you senseless less than a week into november
it would be the roughest, sloppiest sex yall ever have bc once Rengoku is done, hes done
He'll fuck you every day of the damn month just because he wants to, and be prepared bc this man has STAMINA
normally rengoku focuses solely on your pleasure, hes def the service dom type, hoowwweeeeverr, depending on how much you teased him, hes gonna be sm rougher
i also think rengoku would last the entire month just to irritate you because, lets face it, hes much more patient than you
just imagine begging him to fuck you at the end of the month, pleading with him to pay attention to you after he's deprived you of pleasure for so long... how could he say no to you?
the sound of skin slapping against skin and muffled groans filled the room as Rengoku pressed you down into the mattress. Rengoku leaned down, close enough to whisper in your ear, "fuck baby, can i- can i lift your legs up higher?" you nod, head foggy as he tossed your legs over his shoulder. Rengoku adjusted for a second, folding you over and beginning to thrust slowly. Your hips rocked against his as you clawed at the mattress, the new position allowing him to go so much deeper than before. "mhm baby, just like that. gonna make you feel so good after you waited so long, gonna fill you up so nice.."
Mitsuri
i think Mitsuri would last ab a week before crumbling
She'd be so embarrassed about it, all blushy and shy
you haaave to tease her ab quitting so early, you'll get the most delectable whimpers from her<3
Mitsuri folds from MINIMAL teasing its almost like she wants to lose
once she gives in tho, please pamper her. teasing is okay but PRAISE HER‼️
shes a pillow princess at heart and will def want u to take care of her after u made her wait for sooo long
MITSURI IS SO SENSITIVE, AND ITS DEFINITELY AMPLIFIED AFTER SHE HELD BACK FOR SO LONG
she cries sm more easily during sex after being teased for so long, and it's impossible to NOT overstimulate her (she loves it)
tease her and praise her, overstimulate her and watch as she falls apart~
fat tears streamed down Mitsuri's pink cheeks as you pumped your fingers in and out of her slick heat, mesmerized by the sloppy sound it made. her legs trembled and her lip quivered as she sobbed from the overwhelming onslaught of pleasure, and you leaned up to kiss her on the cheek. "d'worry baby, im gonna make you feel all better," you coo, smiling as she whimpers. your fingers are coated in her slick, and her hips grind down onto your fingers with every thrust. "need you.." she whispers, reaching out to pull you closer. "kiss..?" she whimpers, large, teary eyes staring into yours. You chuckle, unable to deny her. "Of course~ how could i forget?" you kiss her slowly and sensually, running your tongue along her bottom lip and gently grabbing her jaw as you pushed your tongue inside her mouth. Mitsuri whined at the feeling, clenching ariund your fingers as her tongue collided against yours. her chest heaved, perky breasts bobbing as the coil in her stomach tightened. you could tell she was close, and moved the hand holding her face to massage one of her breasts as you deepened the kiss. your fingers curled inside her, pressing against her g spot as your thumb circled her clit. instantly, Mitsuri squealed, gushing around you and squirting onto your hand as she writhed in pleasure. "t-too much!!" she gasped, pulling away from the kiss as a thin trail of spit lingered between your mouths. "was that worth the wait baby?" Mitsuri blushes, nodding profusely.
Obanai
i genuinely think obanai would last like
a week at most
im sorry but this man worships your every move, and theres NO way he can deny you anything
you tease him once and hes already bending you over, fucking you senseless as he bites harshly into your neck
or hes whining, dragging you on top of him and begging you to fuck him just right, ride him until hes a sweaty, needy mess
sex with Obanai after NNN would definitely be much rougher, he just cant hold himself back
he NEEDS to ravish you
you gasp as Obanai's cock sinks into you, his thick length filling you up as he spreads your legs. one hand rests on your inner thigh, the other entwining your hands together as he presses hasty kisses to your collarbone. your back arches off of the bed as he bites down hard on the sensitive skin, a dark hickey left in its wake. Obanai travels upwards, his teeth grazing your neck and shoulders as he kisses and nips at the exposed skin. his warm breathe flushes against your beck as he begins to thrust in and out of you in a brutal pace, the sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room, accompanied by your moans and whines. Obanai pants, his hand moving from your thigh to fondle at your chest. "can't believe you made me wait this long, bunny.." he murmured softly in your ear, nipping at your earlobe. "fuck, i missed this pretty hole..."
Sanemi
he likes to think could make it the whole month but "doesn't care about a stupid ass challenge"
he cant make it the whole month hes too whipped for you
i think he would either last like. 15 minutes or two weeks theres no in between
Sanemi would either fuck you out of spite immediately after november starts or genuinely try but give up pretty early on and make up some bs excuse ab how he "doesnt even care"
either way, hes not making it 💀
prepare yourself, cuz the sex is gonna be ROUGH
Sanemi totally has a breeding kink, and the thought of NNN definitely ignites a feral need to fill you up- not a drop of his cum is wasted, hes bringing you to at LEAST 4 orgasms, and hes coming at least twice as well. hes also gonna finger fuck his cum back inside you, maybe he'll use a plug too just for the satisfaction of knowing that your filled up to the brim with him...
congrats!! u have a feral boyfriend
"s' too much!" you sobbed, tears streaming down your face as Sanemi fucked into you harshly from behind. his hips snapped against yours as you whimpered, face down in the sheets. Sanemi gave a swift slap to your ass and you sobbed, mewling as he fucked into your weeping hole even harder. "oh yea? shoulda thought of that before tellin' me about this stupid challenge," Sanemi hissed, thrusting deeper into your cervix as you keened. "im- m' close-" you hiccuped, warm, wet tears slid down your face as he looked into your glossy eyes. "oh yea? i thought it was t' much, doll- fuck-" he gasped as you tightened around him, the sound of his hips slapping against your ass was amplified even more as you came with a squeal. you came hard, coating Sanemi's cock and the bed below in your juices as your eyes rolled back into your head. "fuuugnck- doll your so tight- im coming too, don't waste a fucking drop of this- its what you get for makin' me wait.."
Gyomei
i think Gyomei would make it
honestly i dont think he has a super high sex drive, and as much as he wants to please you, i think he would make it through the month with ease
hell at the end of the month hes praising YOU for lasting so long eithout him (in a genuine way, not in a condescending way ofc <33)
hes pretty chill when it comes to sex, but after NNN Gyomei might be a little rougher
he has STAMINA tho
prepare to be overstimulated bc he is MAKING SURE you are blissed outt af by the end
if your not a whiny mess in subspace then Gyomei's not having it
hes praising you for lasting so long, making you feel so good while bringing you to climax after climax for HOURS
he miiiiight fold if u bEG him but its a small possibility.
Gyomei held you in his lap as you squirmed, fucking yourself on his cock as you buried your face into his neck. "mnghh- forget how big you were.." you whine, grinding your hips sensually against his. Gyomei chuckles, brushing the hair off of your forehead and kissing you gently. "do you remember how many times you've come, little one?" your brow furrowed, your head felt foggy as you tried to remember. one of his hands squeezed your thigh reassuringly, and you whimpered, eyes rolling back slightly as you tightened around his cock. Gyomei hummed, taking in your overstimulated state as he brought you closer to release. "im so proud of you little light, you lasted the entire month," he cooed, rubbing soothing circles on your back as the coil in your stomach tightened. "let me reward you, my precious dove~"
RAHAHAHAHAHAHA ITS DONE ITS DONE ITS FINALLY DONE OH MY GOD OH MY GOD HOLY FUCK HOLY SHIT ITS DONE KTS DONE ITS DONE I LOVE LIFE HALLELUJAH AJSHSAJHAJAAAJAA ITS JANUARYYYYY LMFAO
#demon slayer x reader#kny x reader#giyuu tomioka x reader#giyuu x reader#giyuu tomioka#tengen x reader#tengen x wives x reader#tengen uzui#shinobu x reader#shinobu kocho#giyuu smut#tengen smut#shinobu smut#rengoku x reader#rengoku smut#mitsuri x reader#mitsuri smut#obanai x reader#obanai smut#obanai iguro#sanemi x reader#sanemi smut#sanemi shinazugawa#gyomei x reader#gyomei smut#gyomei himejima#kny x male reader#kny x you#kny smut#demon slayer smut
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“happy birthday, pretty boy” - sim jaeyun
part 2 of e(nnn)- (a nnn series)
pairing: switch!jake x switch!fem!reader
warnings: oral (f&m receiving), making out, 69 position, lingerie mentioned, idk what else to put help me
synopsis: while your boyfriend is trying his hardest to win a bet made by his best friends to not have sex for a month, you couldn’t help but give him a little show on his birthday
masterlist!
"jake i'm telling you right now there's no way you're winning that ps5"
"you really have that little faith in me?!"
"have you met yourself? last week you begged me to let you eat me out because you were 'pussy deprived' while i was on my period. it had been 3 days."
your boyfriend sighed in defeat, knowing you were right. but was it really his fault? you were just so perfect, he could never get enough of you!
"well i'm going to prove you wrong, just watch. on december 1st when i'm collecting my ps5 from sunghoon i'll remind you of this very moment," jake said, crossing his arms as he dramatically turned away from you
you laughed to yourself, rolling your eyes at his dramatics. you knew your boyfriend, and you knew there was absolutely no way that he was lasting this entire month, especially with his birthday being a few weeks away. he can tell himself whatever he wants, but you both know in the end, he's not getting that ps5.
______________________________________________________________
it had been two weeks and he was honestly doing way better than anybody expected. everyday the boys waited for a text message saying he lost, some even placing further bets on how many hours days he could last before he lost
"can you believe them?! i was on the phone with hoon earlier and i heard heeseung give jungwon money after saying i lasted longer than he thought! i can't believe theyre making bets on me, like, am i really that horny?" he complained to you as you were eating dinner together
"in their defense, you are a pretty big man whore. i mean, have you seen the videos of yourself from the concerts? licking your lips, showing your abs, grinding the air, they definitely aren't wrong for thinking that. plus i am 100 percent sure they have heard us have sex in the dorms multiple times", you said back to him. everybody knows that jake practically lives off of sex. not in a weird way, but you just energize him so much. with so much stress of being an idol, getting to come home and fuck his frustrations out, or eat you out for hours until you're overstimulated, it's an instant destresser
"well, yeah but, they could at least have a little more confidence in me", he said with a pout, continuing to eat the food you had made for him earlier
"okay you big baby", you said with a laugh, getting up to take your empty plate to the sink to wash
your boyfriend followed soon behind with his empty plate, slightly pushing you out of the way and taking the sponge out of your hand to wash the dishes for you. you smiled at him fondly as you moved to sit on the counter directly next to the sink. you sat and admired your boyfriend, looking so domestic as he washed the dishes in your apartment. you looked forward to the day that he could finally move in with you full-time, after the pressures of being an idol aren't so heavy
"you're staring, pretty girl", he said with a smirk, not moving his attention from the plates in front of him
"yeah cause you're just so handsome", you said not being able to hold back your smile
he giggled a bit at your statement before refocusing on the task in front of him
"so!" you said, clapping your hands together, "what are we doing tomorrow, birthday boy?"
"i didn't really have any plans in mind, probably hang with the boys for a bit, get dinner or whatever then come back and chill here with you. nothing too crazy", he said nonchalantly, turning of the sink and drying his hands as he finished washing everything
"are you serious? its your 21st birthday jakey, you have to do something!" you said, wrapping your arms around his neck as he stood between your legs. because you were sitting on the counter you were eye level with him. he put his hands on your thighs as he looked at you with a smile
"yeah yeah i know but... i dont know. not really in the going out mood, id rather just chill and spend it here with you", he said moving his face close to yours, noses rubbing together. you hummed as you closed the gap between you both, lips molding together as your hands played with the hair at the nape of his neck. he pulled away, rubbing your noses together once more before standing back to look at you
"you sure you don't wanna go out somewhere tomorrow? nothing at all you can think of?" you asked once more, intertwining your hands together
"nothing, i promise. we can go out to eat with the boys and then come back and have a movie night or something. just wanna be with you", he said with a smile. you flushed at his words. even after dating for so long he never failed to make you flustered
"okay, now come on pretty boy let's go to bed, i'm tired", you said, wrapping your arms and legs around your boyfriend to signal him to carry you to your bedroom. he laughed and shook his head before putting his hands under your thighs and picking you up, walking to your room
______________________________________________________________
the next day was filled with multiple surprises for your boyfriend, waking him up to breakfast in bed, giving him a beautiful white gold bracelet you had found for him a few weeks ago, the boys showing up early to your house to give him the gifts they had bought him before all going out to dinner together that night.
you all had a great time, talking and laughing loudly for hours, probably annoying the rest of the patrons in the restaurant. your boyfriend thanked his friends, as well as you for making his birthday such a fun day, but what he didn't know was that you had one more surprise for him.
you had been planning this for a while, being very glad he opted to staying in for his birthday as it helped your plan go smoother. you knew he had that bet with his friends but, we all knew he was gonna lose at one point or another, so why not have it be on his birthday? he wasn't even a big gamer anyways, it wasn't like he would be super disappointed if he didnt get the gaming console.
you were gonna make some excuse to get him back to your place, changing into your brand new black lingerie set you got specifically for this occasion. you knew he loved when you wore black, since it was one of his favorite colors. you hoped the lingerie set would get him to break, giving up on his bet with his friends
after dinner was paid for (thank you jay🙏🏼), your boyfriend bid goodbye to his friends, walking back to your car with you
you drove home in a comfortable silence, his hand on your thigh as you looked out the window, music lowly playing in the background. you were getting excited for your plans, feeling the heat in your core grow as you slightly shifted in your seat
"you okay babe?" jake asked, looking at you slightly
"yeah, i'm fine" you said with a smile, grabbing his hand off your thigh to intertwine it with yours, as the close proximity to your core was getting you more worked up than you already were
you thought you were being slick, but your boyfriend knew about this whole ordeal. he had accidentally seen the lingerie in your dresser, and when he didnt recognize it he figured you had bought it for this reason. and after seeing the way you tried to hide yourself getting worked up during dinner, snd in the car next to him just now, confirmed his suspicions. he smiled to himself before focusing back on the road, feeling your stare on the side of his face. usually he would tease you, but right now he wanted nothing more than to get you home and fuck you til you can't walk
the ride back to your apartment felt longer than usual, your arousal continuing to pool in your panties the more you thought about the night to come. you finally arrived, and jake got out the car quickly to open the door for you, helping you out of the car. he grabbed your hand as he led you inside. he unlocked the door to your apartment, letting you go in first, following behind closely
before you knew it, you were pushed up against your front door, your boyfriends lips clashing with yours passionately as his hands roamed over your body
your eyes widened in surprise, not expecting him to be the one to initiate the intimacy. you soon melted into your boyfriends arms, wrapping your arms around his neck to tangle in his hair as your tongues clashed in each others mouths. he picked you up and you wrapped your legs around his waist, not breaking the kiss as he walked to your bedroom, placing you down on the bed, leaning back to take of his shirt, throwing it across the room before coming back down to kiss you again
"fuck, jakey, what about your bet?" you moaned out as he moved his lips down your neck and chest
"first of all, fuck the bet. second of all, you think i didn't know all about your little plan for tonight? that pretty little lingerie set that you bought just for me. lucky for you, i'm gonna let you save that for another day, right now i just wanna feel you around me" he said as he continued to leave open mouthed kisses down your neck and chest, putting his hands up your shirt to massage your breasts over your bra
you moaned as you moved your hands to take off your shirt, sitting up for a second to lift it over your head, discarding it somewhere in your room
jake moved further down your chest now that he had more access, taking one of his hands to unbuckle your bra skillfully, like he had done it a billion times
after your bra was off, he moved his mouth down to suck your nipples, licking and kissing then as he used one of his hands to roll your other nipple between his fingertips. your hands were in his hair, pulling and tugging on it slightly, making him moan into your breasts, sending vibrations all through your body
"baby please, i need you so bad" you moaned out, becoming impatient
"so needy, my baby. can't believe i was gonna make you wait a whole month without my dick" he said, kissing down your body as he made his way to where you were craving him most
"wait", you said, putting your hand on his head to stop his motions. you put your hand under his chin to pull him back up to your face, before pushing him over so he was under you
he gasped at the sudden movement before smirking at you, immediately putting his hands behind his head
"wanna take care of my pretty boy" you said as you moved down to his dick, kissing and lick his defined abs on the way down. you unbuttoned his pants, pulling them down off his legs before cupping his clothed dick in your hands
he moaned out at the feeling as you palmed him through the thin fabric of his underwear, cursing lowly under his breath
"please don't tease princess, it's been way too long i need to feel your mouth around me already" he said with a whine
"whatever my birthday boy wants" you said, slipping your fingers into the sides of his boxers, sliding them down his thighs. his dick sprung up from the fabric, stand so tall and prettily. you swear his dick was the prettiest one in the world, the veins going up the side were just so perfect, he wasn't bigger than average, but he was so thick, and his tip was so red and pretty, already leaking precum
he groaned as he was finally released from the constraints of any fabrics, moving his hands down to tangle in your hair
you took his dick in your hands as you slowly licked all the way from the base to the tip, your boyfriend moaning out loudly as you did so. you began to suck his tip gently, licking his slit and tasting his precum on your tongue
"fuck, baby, you said anything i want right? i want you to sit on my face please. you take my dick so well in your mouth but i want to taste you too. please baby", he whined out as you continued to suck only the tip. you smiled up at him before standing up to remove your pants and underwear
"of course pretty boy, it's your night" you said as you climbed onto the bed seductively, moving your legs over your boyfriends head so you were hovering above his mouth. you could feel his warm breath on your pussy, and his nose rubbing against your clit. you moaned slightly as you leaned forward to take his dick into your moth again
you began sucking on it harshly, before feeling jake pull your hips down harshly, suffocating himself with your pussy. he was licking and sucking on your clit so well, you could barely concentrate on what you were doing. you continued to bob your head up and down over his cock as he keep eating you out, your moans being muffled by his dick. the vibrations of your moans over his dick made him approach his orgasm faster than usual, already feeling his stomach tighten and his dick twitching in your mouth. he didn't want to cum before you, so he started to speed up his actions, hands tightly gripping your thighs, probably leaving a mark tomorrow
he heard your moans get higher in pitch, and your hips began to grind onto his face slightly, signaling you were close. you continued moving up and down on his dick, hands massaging his balls as you felt his dick twitch in your mouth. your orgasm hit you hard, hips bucking onto your boyfriends face as you tried to continue sucking on his dick, becoming too distracted on by your own orgasm hitting you. jake didn't stop his ministrations, riding you through your orgasm, making sure to lick up every last drop of your juices. your hand continued to move up and down his dick, and you moved your head back down to his dick so he could come too. not long after he was cumming in your mouth, moaning into your pussy sending vibrations and overstimulating you
you gathered all his cum into your mouth, sitting up and turning around so he could see your face as you swallowed it. that was one of his favorite parts when you sucked his dick, getting to see you swallow his load
his hands moved to your waist as you sat over his abs, feeling your juices spread over his stomach. you leaned down to kiss him, and he practically got hard again tasting himself on your lips. you smiled into the kiss as you pulled away, biting his lip before you pulled away and let go
"happy birthday, pretty boy"
you rolled off his stomach to lay next to him, turning your head to look at him with a smile. he looked back at you, returning the smile fondly. he rolled to the side to cuddle into you, but you put a hand on his chest to stop him before he could
"you thought we were done baby? oh no, were just getting started"
a/n: GUYS FINALLY I KNOW ITS OUT AHHHHH. i wrote this all in one sitting cuz i was determined to finally get it out for you guys after weeks of not being able to😭 i hope you guys enjoy, and sorry it’s a little short🥲🥲🥲
taglist (closed!): @yannew @hanienie @beomgyusonlywife @akirakinimi @multifandomgurllll @boutyouwonu @kissmunalodz @5xiang @ibsysbsfsunsbs @guqsnfics @hellaboredd @wvnkoi @kpopslover @heerinnie @climbingmandevillas @rikisly @simeonswhore @lilriswife4life @daegutowns @harrietbarnesblog @wonniie3 @ariadores @yizhoutv @lilizinho @firstclassjaylee @olivehues @ikeusol @bunhoons @electrobutterfly @choijxn @baekxo07 @youronevia @eneiyri @soobery @heeseungshim @furious-eagle @nyxluvethn @jongseongslvr @wonniewonwon @sunsunl0ver @mixtape-racha @jakeslvt @lomlj4ke @neocockthotology @babyy-bambii @fluerz @adriana7863 @trashx678 @yelleloww @brownsugarbaybee @kaislinging-slasher01 @jena4realz @deobitifull @heartzhailey @stuckonclouds @sunoosgf001 @jwnghyuns @auraxyzz @kaisplushies @dazzlingligth @hoseokteardrop
(if your name is NOT greyed out i cannot tag you!)
#jungwon hard thoughts#enhypen#jungwon smut#heewonenthusiast speaks!#heewonenthusiast asks!#enhypen smut#enhypen hard hours#enhypen hard thoughts#heeseung smut#jaeyun smut#jake enhypen#jake fluff#jake sim#enhypen jaeyun#jaeyun fluff#sim jaeyun#jungwon hard hours#jungwon imagines#jungwon fluff#heeseung fluff#heeseung#jay fluff#jay smut#enhypen jay#sunghoon smut#sunghoon enhypen#sunghoon fluff#park sunghoon#enhypen fluff#enhypen imagines
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I guess it’s never really over
mechanic!steve harrington x fem!reader exes to lovers
chapter one -
Late arrivals and big asks
A broken down car, a party at Reefer Rick’s, and a bandaid that needs to be ripped off.
warnings: 18+ drinking, smoking, lots of tension, some king!steve angst in the form of a flashback.
wc: 10.1k
series masterlist | series playlist
June -
The air is sticky, thick with the kind of humidity only Indiana could have at 9:30 pm. An annoyed breath expands into your lungs as you lean against your car that refuses to do anything but sputter. Despite your irritation, your glossed lips twitch with the nostalgia that creeps into your heart because after all these years it still smells the same.
Crossing your arms, your eyes trail over the clear night sky not polluted with the kind of man-made smog that blankets the city and the stars shimmer like diamonds in its absence. The warmth of the overrun engine is still hot on your exposed calves, the light breeze making the bottom of your sundress dance across the tops of your thighs. White beams emerge, cutting through the dark at the top of the hill, followed by the roar only a tow truck can make, and this time, the smile you fought off before spreads wide across your face.
Robin.
Butterflies wake up in a frenzy deep in your gut, with nerves that twitch from your fingertips at the thought of finally getting to hug your best friend after months apart. You push off the side of your car as the truck approaches, eyes squinting to make out the second outline in the front cabin as it pulls over. You recognize the messy mane of hair that could only belong to Eddie Munson in the driver seat almost instantly and his dimple filled smile brings you back to memories you thought you’d long forgotten.
“Well, well, well, would you look at what the cat dragged in!” Robin sticks her head out of the window with a wide grin as the big tires slow to a stop in front of your car, “are my eyes deceiving me or is my best friend in the entire world actually in Hawkins, Indiana right now?”
The rasp in her voice sounds just like it does over the phone and despite the roll of your eyes, your cheeks hurt from how happy you are.
“Shut up, don’t act like you didn’t guilt me out here by saying the fate of your future depends on it.” Uncrossing your arms, you open them wide, “I made the ultimate sacrifice for you, so are you gonna hug me or not?”
Dramatic? Yes. But it works like a charm when she flings open the passenger door and charges at you in a mess of honey blond waves and freckles, almost tackling you with the force of her impact wrapping her arms around you.
Too distracted by Robin, you almost don’t notice the creak of the driver's side door or the filled out frame of the man that used to be a lanky teenage boy walking past as Eddie starts to attach your car to his truck. He’s taller than you remembered even bending down, and despite the navy blue coveralls, you can still see that his pale skin is littered with even more tattoos.
“I can’t believe my guilt trip worked!” Robin beams, finally letting you go, her whole body practically vibrating with excitement as she claps her ring clad hands together.
“I really can’t believe it either,” you laugh nervously, the reality of what it means to come back starting to set in after seeing just one familiar face, but this isn’t high school anymore and you’re definitely not the same person you were five years ago either.
“Thanks so much, Eddie,” you break the ice when he stands back up, and the sound of your voice has his big brown eyes warmed with gold light up just like his face when he turns his full attention onto you. Scruff filled dimples poking even bigger holes in his cheeks.
“It’s my pleasure, sweetheart, I almost didn’t believe Robin when she called me. I thought it was a prank.” He beckons you over with open arms, “now that I know it’s not, you have exactly 10 seconds to get over here and hug me before I change my mind.”
There’s zero hesitation about giving into his ‘demand’ and when your arms wrap around his waist, you’re brought back to afternoons in the woods behind the school with heavy lidded eyes and lopsided grins.
“Your own auto shop, huh?” You smile up at him, pulling away, “Eddie Munson, the business owner.”
He rolls his eyes but the pink tint that colors in his cheeks tells you he appreciates the praise.
“Yeah, something like that.” He chuckles, “Got a soft spot for that old man in the trailer park, couldn’t bring myself to leave.”
Your heart warms at the fondness that drips from his ton.
“Okay, as sweet as this little reunion is. You’re late, and we have a party to get to.” Robin interrupts snatching your keys out of your hand, dropping them in Eddie’s.
“A party?” You snap confused, and Eddie takes that as his queue to walk away with a knowing smirk.
“Yes, this is the summer of fun and reckless abandon, this is the last summer of our youth before we have to be adults. Do you understand me?” Her fingers are digging into your shoulders by the end of her rant, with the kind of look in her eyes that you’re absolutely going to have to revisit after a few weeks.
“This is the part where I remind you that I graduated college last year.”
Your best friend scoffs at you.
“Just humor me, okay? It’s your grand homecoming.” She pushes out her bottom lip, and makes her eyes big in a way she knows you can’t say no to.
“Fine.” You huff, making her finally let you go with the kind of pleased smirk that tells you she never thought she was going to lose to begin with.
“Great, it’s time to rip the bandaid off anyway.” Robin practically mumbles the last part turning on her heel to head back to the truck.
It takes a minute for her words to stick to your ears and their meaning to ring loud through your head, but when they do it feels like the air is stolen from your lungs.
“Rip what bandaid off, Robin?!”
It’s his name tightens in your chest but you refuse to say it, even after all this time it burns coming back up.
“Since you had to drive for so long, I’ll sit in the middle because I’m just that good of a friend, you know?” She winks with a shit eating grin before pulling herself up and disappearing inside the cab of the truck, ignoring your question, like she’s not asking you to do the one thing you said you’d never do.
See Steve Harrington again.
I tell myself, ‘draw the line.’
You wonder if Robin can feel the daggers you’re glaring into the back of her head as the two of you walk up the driveway to Rick’s house. Gravel crunching hard under your converse as you keep up with her black combat boots. She looks effortlessly cool in her high waisted jean shorts, and her oversized army green jacket covered in patches. You’d compliment her if you weren’t so mad.
“I can’t believe you guys still have parties here.” You scoff, making your sour attitude known, but your best friend ignores it with ease.
“I can’t believe you forgot to have fun. Don’t you live in the city?” Turning around with a smirk, she can’t help but laugh at the look on your face.
She stops abruptly, almost making you run into her leaving you both just close enough to the party to hear the bass of the music spilling through the cracks in the windows. The low chatter of people echoes through the trees that surround you and bounce off the lake not that far away. The thought of hearing the calm baritone of his voice mixed in makes your chest tight with the kind of nerves that dare you to high tail it and run.
“It’s been five years.” Robin’s playful demeanor breaks and becomes pleading with a kind of desperation you’ve never seen from her before. “He’s not the person you knew in high school, I need you to understand that. You think I’d call someone like that my best friend?”
“Hey!-“ You object at the title, and it makes her lips twitch despite serious lines that crease her face.
“Stop, you know what I mean,” her painted fingers grab onto yours, squeezing them lightly, “please, just give him a chance. I’m not asking you to get back together or even be friends, just get along enough not to kill each other this summer. I can’t choose between you. I won’t.”
The genuine love she has for Steve is apparent in the way her ocean blue eyes threaten to drown you in their sincerity, and you can’t find it in yourself to say no to her.
“Fine.” You accept your defeat in practically a whisper, but it makes your best friend squeal nonetheless. The giddiness from before coming back tenfold as she links arms with you, continuing your way up to the house.
It’s just a summer, right?
The crowd gets bigger as more people start to come into view, between groups smoking cigarettes outside, couples arguing by cars, others making out against them. The smell of beer gets more pungent with each step, the atmosphere a stark contrast to the way the moon glows against the peaceful waters behind the madness of the house.
Salt N Pepa’s ‘Push It’ plays loud enough for you to make out the words when you reach the front steps, walking through clouds of tobacco smoke to get to the unlocked door. The interior hasn’t changed at all since high school, the smell of stale lime and tequila stinging your nose. The bass of the music vibrates under your shoes as Robin unlinks her arms and you have to fight the urge to yank her back.
“Drinks or …Steve first?” She asks, her nerves about the situation finally showing themselves as she bites at her thumbnail.
“Absolutely drinks! Is that a trick question?” You half whisper, half yell, looking around as if saying his name out loud might summon him.
“Okay! Okay!” Robin hisses, grabbing your wrist, leading you towards the familiar path to Rick’s kitchen.
Suddenly you wonder what your makeup looks like after a long day of traveling in your car, your fingers tugging at the bottom of your dress before adjusting the front of it so it sits just right. You itch to grab your lip gloss that’s tucked into the side of your bra, but you don’t want to deal with the look you’d get if you went for it.
Rounding the corner to the living room, your heart sinks to the bottom of your stomach before you even have a chance to stop it when your eyes meet that messy head of chestnut hair, and a pair of hot pink nails tangled inside it.
“Oh - I - god dammit.” Robin groans, when you're met with number two on your list, making out with a pretty blond on the couch.
Despite the years and distance, there’s still a sting that you feel in the corners of your eyes. It’s not enough for any tears to fall, there’s none left for him anymore, but it’s enough for the anger you’ve clung to since the day he broke your heart to boil hot under your skin. It singes the wings of the butterflies that try to take flight when you see the way his frame has filled out, how he’s somehow grown more handsome than the last time you saw him.
Robin coughs, squeezing your wrist in reassurance.
“Hey, - uh, Steve.” The sound of his name catches his attention, long brown lashes fluttering open to reveal the deep coffee of his eyes that widen when they lock with yours for the first time in years.
His lips pull from the blond’s with a loud smack, leaving a small trail of glitter on the side of his mouth that he tries to wipe away quickly with his wrist. Black ink you’ve never seen before looks bold on his tanned skin that glows like it’s been freshly kissed by the sun.
His gaze wanders up and down your body like he’s unsure you’re actually real, and if it wasn’t for the obvious shock of your arrival and the way the color seems to drain from his face, you’d snap at him for the way it lingers over your curves.
“Um, Robin, what the fuck?” The sound of his voice makes your heart skip a beat, and again when his hand drags through his hair just how you remembered.
“Surprise?” She shrugs, wincing when he scoffs loudly and the warmth that went missing floods his cheeks, turning them bright red. The blond next to him eyes you up while she clutches harder to his waist, and you can’t stop the rise of your brows and the giggle that bubbles past your lips because of it.
Steve’s head snaps towards you, something softening the moss that hides in his eyes when he hears the noise despite the sarcasm that drips from it, and you really get to look at him for the first time since high school graduation.
God, you wish you could’ve had that drink.
The jawline that always drove you mad is sharper, peppered with the kind of hardly there stubble that tells you he’s only missed one shaving day. A problem he never used to have, and somehow, it makes him all that much more attractive.
His hair is a little messier than his carefully crafted look that used to take him a good forty five minutes every morning. It curls wildly at the ends now, tucking behind his ears and fanning along the nape of his freckled neck. It still looks as soft as you remember, though.
His shoulders are broader, stretching the white cotton of his shirt tight enough across his chest that you can see the outline of a thick patch of hair that had only just started growing when you knew him last. The dark wash of his jeans makes them look almost black, fitting snug over his thighs, cuffed at the bottoms framing the tops of his boots.
Why couldn’t Steve Harrington just peak in high school like he was supposed to?
“So yeah, this is awkward.” Your best friend laughs nervously, “We’re going to get a drink or three because this scenario is by far the worst case and not the way this was supposed to go in my head, but anyway, look who’s here for the summer! We’ll talk later!“
Robin grabs your wrist before Steve can respond, pulling you back into the party and away from your ex-boyfriend while the realization of the summer you’ve foolishly agreed to hits you all at once. It turns your body weightless as the two of you weave in and out of the crowd. It tightens in your chest, the music turning muffled hitting your ear drums. Suddenly, you're not the woman who crossed state lines to the one place she said she’d never come back to, happily living the lie that you’d actually forgotten about him to be a good friend.
You’re the girl who let him keep you a secret, and you hate him for it.
Sneakers hit the sticky tile floor that hasn’t changed since 1984, the harsh lighting of the kitchen makes you both squint. It’s calmer than the rest of the house, just a few groups lingering off in the corners, too deep in conversation to care about you and Robin. Letting go of a breath you didn’t know you were holding, your ears start to pop too, Eddie Money’s Take Me Home Tonight coming through crystal clear.
“The band-aid might have been violently ripped off, but hey, it’s ripped off nonetheless.” Robin shrugs, finding the half-drunk bottle of tequila on the counter. “I think we should count this as a win and take a shot to celebrate.”
“A win?! Are you kidding me?!” You hiss, completely bewildered.
“Yes a win - oh no.” Her blue eyes go wide at whatever’s behind you, but it doesn’t take you long to figure out when that familiar spice and cedar of his cologne hits your nose.
“Right so, who’s going to let me know what’s going on?”
His voice comes out close enough to send your lashes fluttering, mimicking your heart. The nerves you’d just gotten over threaten to come back tenfold, but you manage to swallow them down just like in high school, turning around.
“I think it’s obvious what’s going on, Steve,”
It’s not as hard to say his name as you thought it would be, but it is hard to stare at his face from this close. Specifically, the two moles that dot his cheek that you always used to kiss, or the ones on his neck that you hate still taunt you for more.
“I’m here for the summer.”
Steve Harrington had thought about this moment a lot, but Rick’s house was never the backdrop for it. His eyes take in the features you’ve not only grown into but somehow are even more beautiful than he remembers. Even if they’re twisted in a glare.
“I meant, why didn’t I know until right now?” He manages to get out with a shake of his head narrowing his eyes at Robin, who’s too busy trying to find clean shot glasses to notice.
“Why would you need to know?” You snap, making a nervous hand card through his hair
“Cause I’ve, uh, you know, I’ve asked about you a few times,” the last part comes out a little harsher, clearly directed at your best friend, who you know is actively ignoring you both now.
“Why? Why would you need to know anything about me?” Your hostility still shocks him even though he was expecting it. His eyebrows shoot up just like his hands in surrender. “Why didn’t you tell me, Robin?”
She groans loudly, slamming the tequila bottle down on the counter before turning around.
“You said you didn’t want to hear anything about him after you moved, why would I tell you he was asking about you?”
“Wait -“ Steve butts in this time, “seriously?”
“Oh my god, can you two shut the fuck up for a second and take these shots? You’re really putting a damper on the beginning of the best summer of our lives,” Robin snaps before waving a hand in front of three freshly poured shots.
It’s a struggle to tear your eyes from him, your body responding to his presence in a way that feels like it’s turning against you. It has you downing your shot in one quick motion before anyone else can even touch theirs.
“Wow, okay.” Robin deadpans before shaking her head, wasting no time in following your lead.
“So we’re not cheersing anymore? Isn’t that bad luck?” Steve mutters, shoulder brushing against yours as he leans forward to grab his shot, the slightest touch enough to engulf your skin into flames.
A whole summer? Fuck.
“Robin, pour another one.” You rush with pinched brows as you try to move past the bitter sting of the alcohol going down your throat, taking a step toward her and away from him, you add “and we’ll cheers.”
You refuse to meet his gaze when you say it, but you can feel the intensity of it on the side of your face, begging you to break.
“Rob’s, how are you guys getting home?” Steve finally breaks, giving up his quiet fight for now, and you hate the way his nickname for her softens your heart.
“Huh, that’s a good question, I hadn’t thought that far yet.” She admits, over pouring so tequila splashes against the countertop, looking up at him with a mischievous grin.
“Seriously–
“RECKLESS ABANDON STEVEY!” Cutting him off, she downs her shot in his disapproving face.
“You didn’t cheers again.” Steve sighs, hands finding his hips as you whine an irritated, “We needed to cheers!” At the same time.
Your eyes meet his finally, his knowing smirk twisting the corners of your lips despite yourself. You blame the tequila starting to warm the blood in your veins.
“Well, you need to take yours then if we’re doing another one ‘the proper’ way, or it’s not going to be even.” Robin points at your drink in a silent challenge.
You know how this game works.
“Fine.” You shrug, downing it with more ease than the last one.
“Oh my god. Stop! Do not pour another one before you answer my question, please!” Steve sounds exasperated, grabbing the bottle from her before she can disobey, “How are you getting home?”
You try not to focus on how much larger his already big hands are now, or how small the bottle looks wrapped up in his palm compared to your best friends. The second shot takes the edge off your nerves in a way that your shoulders relax. Leaning against the counter, you cross your arms, watching the two of them bicker, catching Steve’s wandering gaze on your exposed legs while he tries his best to keep his focus on Robin. It boosts your ego in a way that has the anger hiding just under the surface go from a boil to a slow simmer.
“I don’t know Harrington, do you know anybody with a car?” She wiggles two thick brows at him, the second shot making her blue eyes glassy, and her smile a little more goofy.
“Why’d I know you were going to say that? And why did I know you were going to do this?” Steve sighs, letting her snatch the bottle out of his hand.
“What? Bring her to the party?” Robin snorts pointing a thumb in your direction, making you gasp.
“Robin!”
“No! What? No. But don’t think,” Steve clears his throat looking at you awkwardly before finishing a little quieter, “don’t think we’re not going to talk about this later.”
“I can still hear you.” You remind him with a sarcastic smirk.
“Yeah, I know you can. Look, I’ll DD for you because obviously tonight is, uhh,” he gestures to you with cheeks that grow pinker by the second, “a big deal. But you gotta stop doing this to me, I need you to get your license you’re out of colleg-”
“Shots! Steve’s driving us home!” Robin whoops loudly, and an irritated Steve pinches the bridge of his nose before walking away.
Your eyes follow him out the door, shoulder blades flexing under cotton when he runs another hand through his hair before disappearing from sight. You try to push down the small pang of jealousy that makes a familiar home inside your chest remembering the blond girl waiting for him on the couch.
“Okay, okay,” Robin interrupts your inner struggle at the perfect time, sliding an overflowing shot over to you with a giggle that's contagious and it banishes Steve from your mind just like magic. “I’m not going to forget this time, promise.”
“I don’t think I can afford for you to forget again,” you smirk, raising your glass, tequila spilling over the tops of your fingers, “cheers!”
“Cheers!”
You both down them at the same speed, slamming the empty glasses back onto the countertop with laughter that bounces off the walls and threatens to drown out the music. And for a second you think maybe you can actually do this.
“I’m so happy you’re here!” She squeals, throwing her arms around your neck, doing a terrible job of holding her weight up. Grabbing onto her waist, you do your best to steady her, “Look I just want to say while he’s gone, I know this isn’t easy for you, okay? I know.”
She hiccups before pulling away slightly to look at you as she finishes,“But It means so much to me, and I just wanna say I’m proud of you. I mean, who knows, you’ve changed, he’s changed-”
“Nope, no, you’re done. Where’s the weed? I wanna smoke some weed.” You push Robin away, rolling your eyes at the loud laugh your reaction gets from her.
There’s a long summer ahead of you, but right now, all you need is to find a joint and try not to think about your ex in the next room.
With a few more shots and a couple of hits from a blunt you and Robin you’d stumbled upon being passed amongst a group outside, you start to really feel like you’re back home. Nostalgia hits you hard in the gut as you walk through the crowded living room hand in hand with your best friend, giggling and stumbling back to the kitchen on the hunt for some food.
“God, I’m so hungry!” Robin practically growls when you hit the harsh lighting again making you both hiss.
An empty bottle of tequila sits on the counter now and red solo cups litter the floor that weren’t there before, and a growing pile of bitten into limes cover the counters in a sticky mess. Alone and left to your own devices Robin begins to raid the cupboards, huffing when she finds nothing behind every door she aggressively yanks open.
“Why is his kitchen always so empty? Like? Do we just always miss the party?” You hiccup, tripping on a tile that’s coming out of the grout.
You catch yourself on the kitchen island in front of you, a loud laugh bubbling up from your chest, too drunk to focus on how gross the formica feels under your fingertips.
“There’s literally nothing to eat in here, not even like an old bag of stale chips.” She opens the first cabinet one last time before slamming it shut, officially giving up with a thump of her forehead against the wood. “This is why he’s always at the diner.”
“Wait, Rick actually lives here still?” Another hiccup, you foolishly lean your elbows on the counter, something you’ll regret in the morning as you stare at your best friend with a toothy smile, completely unaffected by the news about the missing food that seems to be ruining her entire mood.
“How can he sell weed and not have any food in his house? What happens when he gets the munchies?!” She throws her hands up, ignoring your question and answering it all at the same time. “I’m gonna find a bathroom, and then we’re gonna find Steve - don’t make that face, he��ll take us through a drive-thru.”
“Don’t be gone long, I don’t know anyone here!” You whine with a childish drunk stomp of your foot, still sporting that sour look she told you to wipe off. The carefree girl from moments before now gone in the blink of an eye.
“Literally like five minutes, I swear!” She promises, turning around with a smirk as she crosses her heart with a ring covered finger like you used to do as kids, easily earning the smile from you she was hoping for.
You watch her disappear into the party, staring after bouncing honey waves until they’re out of your sight.
Suddenly alone for the first time in hours, the kitchen feels quiet. The bass of the music is distant, and your thoughts are heavy just like your feet as your last shot of tequila settles with the rest. Your brain wanders to places that you thought you’d banished from the corners of your mind for years. It takes you to the pink fullness of his lips, and has you biting the bottom of yours. Then it’s the freckles that dot the bridge of his nose and explode across his cheeks, even leaving their mark on the bottom of his earlobe.
You’d found that one the night you’d tried to count them all. You never finished.
Then you remember the blond on the couch, and how her pink nails dug into the thick chestnut of his hair that you used to tug on when his kisses got to be too much. She turns into Nancy Wheeler and those stolen looks in the hallways at school, and suddenly, you hate him all over again.
“Jesus, you’re in here alone? Where’s Robin?” Steve’s voice makes you jump at the worst possible time, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scar-“
“Seriously?!” You snap, turning around with crossed arms. Leaning against the counter, you hope that you don’t seem as drunk as you are, but the way his lips twitch regardless of your attitude tells you that it’s not working. “She went to the bathroom and then was going to look for you.”
“So, it just makes sense for me to hang out here then, right?”Steve raises his hands in a silent plea for permission.
His big boots take heavy steps towards you, and just like on cue, has your body betraying you. The plush dough of your thighs pressing harder together each time he gets closer to closing the gap.
Cautiously taking the spot a few feet away from you, he keeps his hands up till he feels safe enough to shove them in his pockets. The spice of his cologne smells fresh, and you wonder if he sprayed it before walking in here. It overpowers everything else around you, invading your senses and committing itself to memory despite you.
“I um, I really hope this is okay to say,” he stammers watching the way one of your eyebrows arches up, and it doesn’t take long for his hand to escape from his pocket to run through his hair again, “but it’s, it’s good to see you. I m-missed you, Robin’s missed you.”
“Shouldn’t you be hanging out with your girlfriend?” You ignore him and tuck his words away to unpack another time with a sober mind.
“Cassie? She’s not my girlfriend.” He answers without any hesitation, something sparking alive inside the gold of his eyes that has one side of his mouth tugging up.
“Does she know that?”
“I’m pretty sure she does considering she left with another guy not that long ago.” He snorts, the confidence you’ve always known him to have finding its way back, and you don’t miss the way he scoots closer.
So you scoot back.
“Sucks to suck, Harrington.” You sigh, impressed with how well you’re playing off the victory lap you’re shamefully running in your head at the new information.
“There you are!” Robin rushes in, face flushed and out of breath, interrupting the moment you weren’t ready to have yet at the perfect time “Somehow I got roped into like a keg stand and I think it’s really time for us to go home guys.”
“Robin!”
“What?!”
She tries to shush you, but even you can see from across the room the way sweat starts to bead across her forehead, the blush in her cheeks going pale before she runs to the trash can. Steve pushes off the island without any hesitation, rushing to the other side of the kitchen, gathering her hair in his hands to hold it back.
“What were you thinking?” Steve scolds her in the softest way possible, rubbing her back as all the beer finds its way out of her body.
Those big eyes of his that you’re sure are going to haunt your dreams meet yours, and in that moment the room decides it wants to spin. You’re not sure if it’s the night of tequila with nothing but a weed chaser catching up to you or if it’s the onslaught of feelings you’ve successfully suppressed for the last five years coming back to seek their revenge. The deadly combination of both comes to a head the more you watch the gentle way Steve handles Robin and it makes you realize it’s time to go.
You manage to pull yourself together enough to help Steve get Robin in his car, heart almost stopping when you walk up to the same Maroon BMW he took your virginity in. It takes everything inside of you not to abort the mission, run to Robin’s apartment by figuring your way through the woods you used to play in, do anything but sit in those leather seats. But your best friend’s drunk rambles of how happy she is to have her ‘two amigos and how that it makes three now’ while professing her undying love for both of you has you putting on a brave face, and then your big girl pants when you have to sit in the front seat next to him.
It’s in perfect condition, just like the morning he pulled into the parking lot Junior year with it. Your stomach twists in the kind of knots that have you wrapping your arms around your waist. The smell of leather and pine pulling on the back of your throat, and all the memories that come with it. He keeps the radio low, and you can hardly make out the faint sounds of whatever late night talk show was on over the soft snores of a passed out Robin in the backseat.
“I thought you’d have a different car by now.” You grumble sinking further into your seat, keeping your eyes trained on the trees that zoom past your window.
“You’ll have to pry her from my cold, dead hands, honey.” Steve chuckles, relaxing a little more into his own, a big hand finding a new resting spot on the stick shift.
The endearment sends you reeling, the tequila making it hard to bite your tongue.
“Don’t call me that.” Quickly realizing that staring out the window does nothing to help your already dicey equilibrium, you decide to finally look at him, but you’re not sure if that’s any better.
‘What? Honey?” He asks, fully knowing the answer but egging you on just the same with a ghost of a smirk on his lips.
Narrowing your eyes, you turn fully in your seat doing your best to ignore the way the street lights bounce off his sharp features as you face him.
“What? So you just make out with girls that you’re not dating and get away with it?”
Steve snorts, licking his lips and meeting your angry gaze with an amused one.
“I am twenty-four and single.”
Scoffing at his answer, you pause to collect your words that keep getting tangled on the tip of your tongue from too many drinks and how the whites of his teeth start to show in a grin as he glances in the rearview mirror to check on Robin.
“You think you can do whatever you want don’t you?”
“No -“
“What? Because you didn’t peak in high school like you were supposed to, you somehow just got hotter, you think the rules don’t apply to you or something?”
“Good to know you still think I’m hot.” Steve’s face cracks into a smile, turning into an apartment complex you’re assuming is Robin’s.
“You’re the worst,” you try to deflect weakly, turning back in your seat with a huff.
“I definitely used to be,” he mumbles mostly to himself, putting the car in park, both of you jerking forward slightly. The sudden lack of movement makes Robin groan in the back, lashes fluttering open to look at her surroundings.
“Oh, thank god, I think I’m gonna be sick again.” Her throat sounds hoarse when she finally speaks, but it’s all she can manage before a dry heave has the boy next to you scrambling.
“Not in my car! Not in my car!” Steve’s quick to jump out of the driver's seat rushing to get your best friend out of the back, leaving you alone to fight with your seatbelt.
Frustrated, you blow a breath out from between your pressed lips tugging on the smooth material while your thumb smashes the release button. It doesn’t budge and the cedar starts to pick at your nerves. An angry noise squeaks from the back of your throat catching Steve’s attention who finally gets Robin on her feet. The spice of his cologne swallows you whole when he emerges back into the car. Leaning over the console he’s gentle when he pushes your hand away. You don’t protest his help this time, eyes tracing the gold chain that slips out from under his shirt. It shimmers everytime it swings from his neck when it hits the moonlight, clicking the button with ease, releasing you from your self imposed trap.
“Thanks,” you grumble, using a wobbling arm to open your door, clambering out less gracefully than you intended.
“Are you good to follow me? I don’t think Robin’s gonna make it up the steps on her own.” Closing the car door, he leans over the top of it, his eyes watching the way you maneuver around his car like you’re walking on thin ice.
“I’m fine,” you growl, right as you lose your footing catching yourself with an open palm on the hood of his trunk.
“Seriously, I can help I just have to take you both one at a -“
“Steve, I said I’m fine. I don’t need anything from you.” You interrupt and if you weren’t so focused on putting one foot in front of the other, you’d see the way the harshness of your words make him wince.
He stares at you for a minute longer before muttering a quiet ‘whatever’ scooping Robin up and tucking her into his side. You follow them at your own pace up the cement steps to the second floor, thankful that her apartment isn’t too far from the landing when you get to the top. Your legs start to feel like Jell-O waiting for him to unlock the door, the long drive from New York and the night finally catching up to you in a way that makes your eyelids heavy as Steve pushes open her front door.
“Bathroom! Bathroom!” Robin manages to get out when she and Steve cross the threshold first, a string of cuss words spilling out of his mouth as he tries to hurry her to the place she was begging to be taken to.
You use the full force of your weight with your back to the door, closing behind you with a loud slam. The navy blue couch in the middle of her living room begging you to sit down, an invitation your clumsy steps accept, leading you to the fluffy cushions. Collapsing onto them with a satisfied hum, you sink into the foam, lashes fluttering and eyelids getting heavier with each second that passes, and soon you find yourself giving in with a warm cheek pressed into the arm rest.
You don’t know how much time has passed when the feeling of your laces being tugged loose stirs you awake. Trying to focus with vision still blurry from sleep, Steve’s messy head of hair comes clear into your line of sight. Long fingers pull the white strings from the metal eyelets of your converse, a warm palm wrapping around your ankle that sends a shiver up your spine as he slowly wiggles your sneaker off your foot. The white tube socks that cover your feet make him smile with a thumb that dares to rub a small circle on your skin before dropping it to work on the other.
“Steve,” you manage to get out, voice still thick with sleep.
“I’m just tucking you in, that’s all hon- and then I’ll get out of your hair.” He clears his throat after the nickname that set you off earlier burns like acid dying on his tongue.
You grumble something unintelligible, rubbing the mascara off your eyes as he pulls your other shoe off the pad of his thumb doing the same thing to your other ankle making your toes curl. Both his hands find their way to your calves squeezing softly at the muscles before he starts to lift them up.
“Come on, let's get you laying on your side.” He coos, helping you adjust so you’re finally horizontal. You groan a little, reaching out for him on instinct, the softness of his touch making a very drunk you crave more.
“I’d love to cuddle but I think you’d actually kill me in the morning,” he laughs to himself knowing you won’t remember any of this when you wake up.
You make some more noises that he can’t figure out if they're supposed to be words or not as he drapes Robin’s thick throw blanket over you. Grabbing the material in your fists when you feel it, you pull it even closer, a low satisfied hum spilling from between your lips that still sparkle with leftover glitter from your gloss. He watches the way you curl into yourself, fingers twitching at his side to run his knuckles over your cheek.
“Steve,” his name comes out clear as day, kicking up his heart rate.
“Yeah?” He squats down next to your face, the warmth of your breath hitting his face while your eyebrows furrow in your sleepy state trying to get whatever you want to say out.
“You really broke my heart, you know that?”
Your words punch the air out of his lungs, just like your unexpected arrival. Something he’s fantasized about happening more times than he’d like to admit.
“Yeah, I know.” He sighs defeated, giving into his urges for comfort with knuckles that brush against the warmth of your skin, a familiar burn stings his eyes when you subconsciously lean into it.
You don’t say anything else to him, the furrow of your brows smoothing out as your face finally starts to relax under his touch. He watches the way your shoulders move with each deep breath that pulls you further into sleep and away from him.
He takes a selfish minute to stare at you uninterrupted, tracing your cheekbone one last time before he stands up to leave, he knows he won’t get any sleep, and the words you won’t remember saying are already haunting him like a bad dream.
“Do you really wanna love me like you say you do? Give it to me like you say you do? Cause it’s hard enough you gotta treat me like this, lonely enough to let you treat me like this. Do you really love me?”
Steve was late, glancing down at pink the digital watch on your wrist, fifteen minutes late. Five lockers down from his, you wait for him at what’s been your meeting spot for the last eight months. Far away enough from his locker that no one would suspect you waiting for the King of Hawkins himself, but close enough to the janitor's closet for him to steal you away from sight without anyone noticing for the forty-five minutes of study hall.
Hushed argumentative whispers catch your attention, nerves making your feet move from side to side unsure if you should abandon ship and just go and study for the final in your last period. Nancy Wheeler's eyes meet yours as she rounds the corner with her best friend Barb, the corners of her lips pulling up ever so slightly giving you a small wave which you return as she tries to ignore her friend.
“He’s just trying to get in your pants! Come on, you have to be smart enough to know that.” Barb points at the note Nancy is clutching in her hand so hard that the whites of her knuckles show.
“It’s not like that, I’m just tutoring him.” She argues but the blush that creeps across her cheeks and spreads down her neck gives her away.
I’m just tutoring him.
That simple sentence is enough for your world to tip off its axis, chest tightening at the realization of who they're arguing about. All the canceled plans the past few weeks with the excuse of extra tutoring starts to feel like a knife to the gut. Prince Charming rounds the corner holding and twists the handle with a bright flirtatious smile that used to be just for you, only now it’s flashed at the dainty brunette who melts under it because no one is immune to Steve Harrington.
It takes him a minute to see you, too wrapped up in Nancy who’s back is pressed to the lockers, caged in by Steve’s big hand splayed against the metal by her head. They’re too far to hear what he’s saying to her, but the confident way his teeth flash and the sweet giggle he earns from it tells you everything you need to know. Tears burn at the corners of your eyes, but you don’t want to give him the satisfaction of seeing them fall. Fists clenched at your sides, the blunt ends of your nails dig into your palms as you hold in the sob that threatens to give you away as you walk past them, meeting his guilty eyes before you round the corner.
The pounding in your head wakes you up before the sun that leaks through Robin’s small kitchen window. Your hangover rings in your ears with a vengeance, and has you letting out a pained groan. Everything after the joint you shared outside at the party is nothing but a blur, a scattered puzzle with pieces missing as you try and figure out how you ended up back home and tucked into the couch.
“Are you alive out there?” Robin’s voice calls out weakly from down the hall in her room.
“Barely,” you grumble, agitation kicking in from dehydration and the old wounds your dream decided to rip open.
“I’d say I’m never drinking again but we both know that’s a lie,” she says, muffled by what sounds like a pillow.
A giggle tries to escape, but it only makes you wince, clutching your forehead willing the pain to subside.
“How’d we even get home?” You croak, rubbing harshly at your eyes before attempting to sit up, covering them with a cupped palm as your surroundings get brighter.
“Steve,” Robin’s voice comes out right next to you, surprising you by appearing in the entryway.
Hearing his name out loud sends the kind of rage that scorches through your veins, it burns from your fingertips remembering the look on his face when you broke up a few weeks after that day in the hallway your dreams so sweetly reminded you of.
It was Pity.
Your best friend ignores your silence and the sour look on your face as you silently take a trip down memory lane while she shuffles into the living room wandering to the attached kitchen.
“How far is Eddie’s shop from here?” You grimace watching her chug from a carton of orange juice.
“Oh, super close. You can walk from here.” She answers, wiping her upper lip with the back of your hand, “they opened like two hours ago, I’m sure he’s already looked at your car.”
“I think I’m going to shower and go over, do you want to come with me?” Raising your hands above your head, you stretch your sore muscles as a yawn comes out in the middle of your question.
“I think I need to rot in bed for a little while longer before I go walk amongst the living, I promise I’m all yours after I don’t feel like a freaking crypt keeper.” Your yawn is contagious, giving you a view of all her perfectly straight teeth.
“I demand something greasy for lunch when I get back then.” You point at her finding your footing on the carpet, noticing your converse are tucked nice and neat against the couch next to you. The feeling of Steve’s knuckles is a ghost against your skin, details starting to come out clear from the murky waters.
Heat rushes to your cheek at the memory while your emotions start to go at war with each other over what to feel towards the man who tucked you and your best friend in last night, but also broke your heart in a way you don’t think you’ll ever quite forget.
“I’m on it boss, god, I wish Benny’s was still open.” Robin interrupts the inner struggle she’s oblivious to you having as she walks past you flinging herself on the couch you’d just won the battle of leaving “But I’ll think of something good, I promise.”
Just like your yawn, the smile she gives you is contagious despite the sharp pain you get in your head from moving too much and you both laugh wincing when it only gets worse.
Ibuprofen first, then your car.
Birds chirp loudly, mocking the headache that's turned into something more annoying than painful after a handful of ibuprofen. The sticky air is still suffocating even in a pair of black biker shorts and an oversized loose fitting tee, while the sun shines golden against the cerulean sky without a cloud in sight to hide you from its light.
The heat warming off its rays makes beads of sweat start to collect at the crown of your head and the nape of your neck, while the incline Eddie’s spinning auto body sign sits on top of threatens to take your breath away. Unwanted thoughts of Steve Harrington keep your pace quick, stewing over the last twenty-four hours and everything it’s unraveled.
The small parking lot is empty when you reach it, kicking small rocks with the toe of your sneaker as you cross it. The double garage doors are open, Metallica’s Seek and Destroy echoing loudly, tugging up the corners of your lips. Your Chevrolet Caprice is the only car semi-lifted in the air with a pair navy coverall-clad legs underneath it.
Opening your mouth, Eddie’s name dies on your tongue before you get a chance to shout it, clocking him and his wild curls sitting in the glass office inside. Those big brown eyes meet yours from across the way, a dimple filled grin lighting up his face waving excitedly from his chair before standing up.
“Glad to see you’re alive, princess.” He teases stepping out of his glass case, with coveralls that are gray today.
“Honestly, it’s a miracle,” you laugh, confused eyes darting to the large boots under your car that don’t seem to have any reaction to the sound of your voice.
“Oh, I heard all about your first night back home. In fact my shop opened thirty minutes late because of it,” he chuckles, crossing his arms over his chest as he leans against the open metal frame where the door should be. Faded bats that you remember when they were fresh dancing across his arm with his movements.
“Wait, what?” You ask, confusion pinching your brows together right as the mysterious pair of legs start pushing out whoever’s under your car.
“I didn’t get back to my place till almost four in the morning after getting you two home and in bed,” Steve emerges flashing you his million dollar smile as he sits up on the dolly, the sleeves of his own coveralls tied tight around his waist and hair wild like he’d just rolled out of bed, “I slept through my alarm.”
The immediate glare that hardens your face when you see him has Eddie's eyes light with obvious amusement.
“What are you doing here? And why are you touching my car?” You snap, trying to push the worries about what you look like deep under the irritation and the distraction that begs to steal your anger with his arms on full display like this. Or how the patch of chest hair that peeks out the top of it shines with sweat.
“I work here,” Steve snorts like it’s the most obvious conclusion, because, well, it is, “and I volunteered to look at it, Eddie’s got his hands full.”
That was a lie, he begged him.
“Since when do you know anything about cars?” Snorting, your attitude makes him roll his eyes, pushing himself off the ground.
It’s a struggle to hold his gaze when he stands at full height, biceps flexing with his movements practically daring you to look. He pulls out a faded maroon rag from his pocket and starts wiping off the fresh black from his hands that’s already stained under his nail beds. The hard bottoms of his work boots making their way across the cement floors of the garage.
“There’s a lot you don’t know about me anymore, that’s what happens when someone leaves for five years.” Steve antagonizes, his lack of sleep leaving him with thin patience.
He stops just close enough for you to smell how the woodsy spice of his cologne mixes with the sweet bitterness of the oil that seems to find a way to leave its mark on every surface in here. Including him.
“I’m going to finish balancing the books, why don’t you tell her the good news first and then the bad,” Eddie pours ice over the tension that threatens to boil over before it can turn hostile, catching the way both of your nostrils flare and shoulders square up.
“Wait, there’s good news and bad news?” Your focus on Steve shifts as Eddie’s words sink in.
“Like I said, I’m going to finish balancing the books.” The metal head reminds you, giving a half salute with two fingers while simultaneously shooting a stern look to Steve who’s mouthing something behind you. “Your mechanic’s going to go over everything with you, we can talk about pricing when it’s all said and done.”
“Seriously?” You bluster as Eddie shrugs with the kind of nonchalance that sends you reeling before sitting back down, tuning the dial-up on the radio in his office. End of discussion.
“Look -“
“How do I even know that you know what you’re talking about?” You interrupt, making his full lips set into a straight line.
“Are you going to be like this the whole time?” Steve sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose before crossing his arms, the tops of his shoulders moving with them.
A pleading expression softens his features instead of the hard combative one you were anticipating, and it helps your blood pressure return to normal. The realization hitting you that maybe skipping breakfast with a hangover probably wasn’t your smartest idea.
“N-no, sorry, I just feel like -“
“Shit? Yeah, I bet.” He chuckles, and your jaw clicks. Maybe if you count to three…
“Just tell me what’s wrong with my car, Steve.” It comes out clipped, but it's an improvement from your fingers twitching to rip that handsome head right off those shoulders that won’t stop trying to distract you.
“How about you tell me the last time you had your oil changed?” He counters, taking a few steps back to sit on the hood of the rusted baby blue Buick behind him.
“Uhh, I- I think,” All the blood rushes to your cheeks, warming your skin as you try to wrack your brain and not focus on the way his legs spread wide to keep his balance. “Maybe, like, six months ago.”
“Six months?!” The number must be worse than whatever Steve was preparing for when a dirty hand runs through his hair, “and then you drove it three states to get here?”
“Yeah, I - I mean, hearing you say it out loud,” you grimace thinking of all the weeks you ignored that flashing orange light on your dashboard.
“So then you shouldn’t be surprised when I tell you that your engine locked up.”
“Is this the bad news?”
“Kind of,”
“What do you mean kind of?”
“Look, the good news is that I can fix it, the bad news is that I have to order a few parts that could take up to three weeks to get here, then the job itself is going to take me probably another week.” He sighs standing up, starting back towards your car with you quick on his heels.
“That’s the whole summer!” You argue like it could possibly make a difference, frustration pricking at the corners of your eyes watching him pop open the hood.
“More like half of it, but hey, you’re lucky I can even get it running again without having to replace the whole thing.” He meets your gaze from under his lashes leaning over the engine, long nimble fingers unscrewing the cap where your oil should go.
“So what am I supposed to do? How am I supposed to get around?” You know that part isn’t his problem, this entire mess is your own doing but it doesn’t stop it coming out in a whine. You blame your hangover.
“You’re gonna be just fine, city girl,” Steve grins up at you before reaching even further under the hood, muscles flexing with him, “besides we both know I can’t say no to Robin.”
He pulls at a small tube that’s purpose is unknown to you but you keep eyes trained on his movements like you have an idea, anything to keep the focus off the gold chain that dangles from his neck.
“Or you.” The last part comes out so quiet, a focused look pinching his brows together as he continues his investigation.
“Me?”
He doesn’t look at you when he shrugs, pulling at something with a little more force that makes you both flinch.
“How much is this going to cost me, Steve?” Your defeat shows in your tone, as the question slips quietly from between your lips that you wish you’d have put gloss on now.
He grunts at the same time something pops against metal under his hands, muttering a string of curse words under his breath before standing back up wiping his palms on the white cotton of his tank top. Charcoal stains fill the small grooves in the fabric with each swipe of his hands, pulling the collar further down every time. It’s a losing battle not to look at his chest when every motion reveals more of the thick curls underneath.
Steve clears his throat, letting you know that you’ve been caught and it’s at this moment you wish you could walk in front of the moving truck that drives loudly past the shop, only exaggerating the silence that follows.
“Don’t stress about that today,” he smiles, letting you off the hook for now, something mischievous dancing in his eyes for another time. “Like Eddie said, we’ll figure it out.”
“Don’t stress about it?! Have you met me?” You huff, the money you’ve saved up for the summer starting to dwindle right before your eyes.
“I have actually,” Steve chuckles, stepping close enough for the tips of your shoes to touch his boots. He feels bold when you don’t make any attempt to move away like at the party or retreat when he closes the gap. A thumb and forefinger finding their way to your chin, tilting your head up to meet his gaze, “and you’re going to be fine, I promise.”
Your lips part on their own, the full force of his face from this close stealing the breath from your lungs. You can smell the coffee he had this morning and the mint from his toothpaste still lingering on his breath. The stubble that lines his sharp jaw is even more noticeable today, tapering off at the top of his neck making the cluster of moles that live there stand out even more. A pink tongue runs over his full bottom lip and it has your lashes fluttering against the tops of your cheeks.
“Now go get some food, grumpy,” his voice comes out low, a teasing edge to it that reminds you of what it’s like to have Steve Harrington flirt with you. “I’ll call when I get the parts, okay?”
It’s like detention junior year all over again as you turn into putty in his hand. Still too attractive for his own good, all you can do is nod while all the fight you had left inside you disappears as the pad of his thumb swipes soft against your heated skin just under your pouted lip before letting you go. He turns on his heel after that, walking back to the box of tools he has spread out over his workbench before adding,
“Do me a favor and tell Robin she owes me a new shirt.”
beta’d by @sweetsweetjellybean
🌻 chapter two
#my writing#steve harrington#steve harrington smut#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington x you#steve harrington x reader smut#steve harrington x fem!reader#steve harrington fanfic#steve harrington fanfiction#steve harrington x y/n
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I was going through a Charles video that mentioned him blacking out in the car at some point. Since I’m a sucker for angst, I was wondering what it would be like for mentor!Seb if it were the reader in that situation instead. Perhaps the season before the one he retires? And maybe we could see more of the reader’s friendship with Charles? Only if you feel inspired by it, of course.
Either way, thank you for sharing your fics with us. They are my favorites and I’m really grateful for having found your blog.
gif by luchitohamilton
EVERY UNIVERSE.
pairing: (mentor! sebastian vettel x ferrari driver! reader) (charles leclerc x teammate! reader)
summary: qatar is a difficult, hot, and taxing track. that along with you having food poisoning, well…that might not end too well for you. thankfully you can always rely on sebastian and charles to be there for you.
word count: 4k
note: can you guys tell i took inspo from mark webber throwing up in his car and the qatar race this year? it was so sad to watch everyone seem so tired especially lance and logan. anyways, the plot kinda got away from me at the end, i do apologize but the seb feels were too intense 😵💫
content warning: car crash, mentions of throwing up, inaccurate depictions of food poisoning
part of this series but can be read without!
“Ready?”
A familiar voice makes you turn around from your pre-race preparations. “Depends on what your definition of ready is.”
Charles smiles, “I know it’s our first race in Qatar but c’mon, it isn’t that bad.”
“Isn’t that bad? I might melt in the car! Doesn’t help that I almost missed this one because of food poisoning.”
“Ah yes, how could I forget that,” he teases. He couldn’t forget it, because you’d been complaining about it endlessly for the past three days. You had food poisoning because Mark Webber invited you to lunch on Thursday, and accidentally gave you something dodgy. You’ve yet to forgive the man. “Well at least you’re starting from P4. Lets you fight for P1, no?”
“Against Lewis and Charles? Please. In my dreams, maybe. Plus, you’re starting P3, asshole.” You retort, turning back around to put your balaclava on. The second it’s on your head, though, it gets pulled off, and you look behind you for the perpetrator. “Charles give it b– SEBASTIAN!”
The Aston Martin driver gives you a grin before hugging you tightly, lifting you off the ground a bit. You didn’t expect to see him before the race, but the surprise was definitely welcome.
“Oh but if it was me I would have gotten scolded,” Charles mutters, but his complaints were left unheard.
“Just came to wish you luck before the race starts. P4! You’re going to get a podium, I’m sure of it,” Sebastian beams, letting you go from the hug.
“That’s what Charles said too. He was more delusionally optimistic, though. Said I was gonna win.”
“Because I believe in you! Is that so bad?” Charles complains from the side, his comment ignored once again.
“Well maybe Charles is right— you could win. Meanwhile I’m starting in the midfield, again.” Sebastian complains, groaning a little bit.
“Oh cheer up Seb, you survived Ferrari for 6 years, you’ll live.”
He lights up a bit at your joke, moving to say something before an Aston Martin mechanic shows up outside the Ferrari garage. He wasn’t allowed inside, but it was obvious he was looking for Sebastian– who also wasn’t allowed inside, yet mysteriously got in. Nothing to do with him being friends with your mechanics of course, yeah, totally not.
“Ah shoot, well it looks like they’re looking for me,” Sebastian sighs. He starts to walk away before he pauses and moves back towards you, “Hey, stay safe, okay? New track, it’s dangerous. I know we’ve done practice and quali but you can never be too careful. Plus, it’s sweltering hot. Hydrate.”
You roll your eyes fondly, “Yes, dad.”
His face scrunches up a little, “Don’t ever call me that again, I’m not that old.”
“You could barely work my Instagram the other day! All I asked was for you to open Lewis’ stories!”
“Psh, whatever. I have to go, see you after the race, yeah?” He asks, giving your arm a quick squeeze. You nod, murmuring a goodbye to him. He wishes Charles good luck too, before saving his engineer from the Ferrari mechanics blocking him.
“So he can pull your balaclava off– which you hate, by the way, let me remind you– but if I even try adjusting your helmet straps so it’s safer you slap me off?” Charles speaks up, making you break eye contact from the Ferrari garage doors.
You roll your eyes at him with a smile, “You have got to forget that. It was one time. And it was a soft slap to the shoulder!”
“The point still stands,” he retorts, making you give up on the conversation.
“Whatever, Charlie. Just get ready for the race. Stay safe, okay?” you say, putting your balaclava on again. He gives you a quick kiss on the cheek before leaving, a sign of good luck between the two of you. It makes you smile a little before you hop into your car.
Okay. Qatar. New track, new conditions, but still the same old you. You could do this.
The lights go off one by one, and you grip the steering wheel with anticipation like you always did. Race starts still made you nervous no matter how long you’d been racing. One light goes off…then the next…then the third…the fourth one follows…and then…
“AND IT’S LIGHTS OUT AND AWAY WE GO!”
The first few laps were a breeze, maintaining your position in fourth despite Fernando being on your tail the whole time. You noticed the car was slightly hotter than usual, but decided to ignore it and chalk it up to new changes in the engine.
Around lap 25 you started to feel a bit dizzy and sick during the sharp corners, cursing yourself internally for having such bad timing with the food poisoning. “Charles is 0.200 seconds ahead, feel free to overtake,” your engineer buzzes through the radio.
“Copy,” you reply, not really paying attention, still feeling sick. You overtake Charles with ease around the outside, him not putting up much of a fight because it would have taken both of you out. Now you just had to maintain this position for…dear god, 32 laps.
“Lewis 5 seconds ahead, focus on tire degradation instead.” Your engineer’s warning goes unheard, though, as you noticed the cockpit was getting way too fucking hot.
“The car’s burning up,” you say into your radio, getting only a simple “Copy, we are checking,” back.
“Okay, Y/N there are no problems with your engines, I repeat; no problem.”
What? That’s impossible. You felt like you were melting in there. “Are you sure? Can you ask Charles if his car feels like the sun too?”
“Negative, focus on the race.”
Oh you were going to kill them one day– if they don’t kill you first. A few more laps passed in those horrible conditions before turn 5 rolled around and as you swerved your car, you started to see black spots around your vision.
That can’t be good, you think, having to close your eyes for a second before shaking your head and snapping yourself back into the race. Thankfully Charles had pitted earlier and had a 3 second gap to you. “I don’t feel too well.”
“Copy. Is it the car?”
“Well it’s definitely part of the problem.”
The next few turns were torture, your head bobbing around as you faded in and out of consciousness through the fast corners. Charles was catching up now, and you knew if you didn’t do something soon, he would pass you.
You wanted this podium. You needed it. If you got P3 you would grab P4 on driver standings.
There was a slow corner coming up that was a good overtaking spot, and so you had to defend.
As the turn came around– faster than you expected– the extreme heat of the car, your headache, sweat, food poisoning, and dizziness came together and you suddenly felt light, as if you were flying, before a jolt knocked you out of your consciousness completely.
You were out for less than a minute, but that minute counted for everything. You completely turned into Charles, him having to swerve onto the gravel just so you wouldn’t crash into each other. Your car, however, still had more speed in it, and you were headed towards the wall on the very far side of the gravel.
Thankfully, the rough rocks had shook you awake enough that you were able to swerve away from the wall extremely last minute and only take the tail and back wheel of your car out.
The next few seconds were a blur.
You still felt faint, but could hear a muffled voice headed towards you. You knew the back of your car was completely ruined and you were out of the race, and you put your helmet in your hands in disappointment. You were having such a good run before this happened. Stupid, stupid, stupid.
The muffled voice running towards you was closer now, and you registered it to be Charles. He was saying something but you could barely hear him with how your ears were ringing and how the seat of the car was still hot.
The man quickly realized you weren’t hearing him, and opted to come closer and lift your visor up. “Smoke. Car. Get out!”
He didn’t need to tell you twice. You pushed yourself up but barely, Charles having to lift you up by your shoulders. Once out of the car you completely collapsed on the floor, only having your teammate catch you.
“I think I’m gonna throw up,” you say drowsily, still fighting the urge to pass out.
“Safety car is coming, stay with me now,” he replies, tapping your helmet so you stay awake. You were grateful your friend was there with you.
On track, however, Sebastian had just been informed of what went down. “What the fuck? What happened?”
“L/N completely turned into Leclerc. Driver error, push on for P9.”
Sebastian hated how his engineer sounded like a robot reporting a technical statistic. He saw the aftermath of the accident for a split second, and it didn’t look like your car was in good shape. He worries about what shape you were in. “Are they okay?”
“Safety car is coming out for L/N and to crane the car, but other than that they seem fine.”
“Injuries?”
“Please focus on the race, Sebastian.”
“INJURIES!” he shouts into his radio, annoyed. He wouldn’t be able to focus on the race until he knew you were alright.
“Uh…L/N seems to be out of it and on the floor, but they’re okay. They’ll be fine, Seb.” His engineer adds the last statement to reassure the man. He knew you meant a lot to him. Seb nods to himself in the car, carrying on with the race. The faster this finished the faster he could get to you.
The safety car came out and they all slowed down, Sebastian finally being able to take a second long look at the accident. Your car was still there, the smoke coming out of it being extinguished by a personnel. Sebastian thinks he ought to have a word with the Ferrari mechanics after the race. He then notices you, on your knees in the gravel, only being kept up by a driver he can only assume to be Charles. Sebastian thinks that should be him there supporting you, but at the same time he’s glad he wasn’t the one who you nearly crashed into. He couldn’t have it on his consciousness that he could have hit you.
“‘m sorry for ruining your race,” you mumble, still being held up by Charles. The man shakes his head, “It was ruined before that, don’t worry. My engine was acting up.”
You knew he was lying to make you feel better, his engine was completely fine. He was headed for the podium earlier, his first in a while. And you completely botched his chance to get it. The thought makes you sob a little, along with the fact that you ruined your own race.
Crying wasn’t the greatest thing to do, though, as it only made you more lightheaded. Charles notices this and takes your helmet off for you, despite your protests pre-race. You were grateful that he did, though, as the second he took your helmet and balaclava off you felt like you had a breath of fresh air for the first time.
“Better?”
You nod, unable to speak. You still felt dizzy and sick. Charles felt annoyed that the safety personnel were taking so long to get to you, waving them over to walk quicker. Squinting your eyes a little, you find them with some health personnels, and you sink a little lower into the gravel.
“God not again,” you groan, remembering the events that unfolded back in Spa. You did not need to go to the medical tent. As you attempt to get up, however, you fall back down as your vision blurred. Looks like medical tent it is again.
The rest of the race went particularly well. Lewis won the race and Fernando got his first podium since 2014– which you reminded yourself to congratulate him for once you were out of the medical tent– and Seb ended up P9, a position higher than where he started. That would usually be a mediocre result but with his shitty car, you were pretty impressed.
“Water?” A familiar voice makes you look away from the TV screen in the room. Charles sat beside your bed, holding a plastic bottle of water. You nod and take it from him, chugging the cool liquid down.
“Sorry again for ruining your race,” you say as you finish drinking. Charles shakes his head, “Stop apologizing. You passed out, that was no fault of yours.”
“You passed out!?” A loud concerned voice makes both of you snap your head towards the door of the room. Sebastian stood there, still in his race suit like the both of you, a shocked look on his face.
“Is that what happened? You passed out mid race?” He asks again, but this time softer. He walks towards your medical bed– which you insisted you didn’t need– before putting his hand on your forehead to check if you had a fever. The action makes you giggle, but Sebastian had a serious look that shut you up quickly.
He shakes his head with a sigh, “You have a bit of a fever.”
“Any other fun observations?”
Sebastian didn’t seem to be in the mood for your wit, though. “You could have been injured. Just a few meters and you could have fully hit the wall. If you were just a few seconds late waking up you would have–”
He shuts his eyes and stops himself. He didn’t want to think about what could have happened anymore. His voice got wobbly during the end of his statement, making you realize that he was stopping himself from crying. You absentmindedly sit up and reach for his hand, squeezing it gently.
“I’m here, Seb. And I’m fine. Look at me.”
The older driver does, slowly opening his eyes. You squeeze his hand a second time, a soft smile on your lips. “I’m here. And look, I’m completely fine. You’re not getting rid of me that quickly old man.”
Seb lets out a chuckle at that, moving to hug you tightly.
“Don’t ever scare me like that again,” he mumbles into your hair. “Why did you even pass out?”
“I was already a little dizzy before getting in the car because of the heat but I tried ignoring it. The car was overheating too and it made me dehydrated, I think. My drink pouch wasn’t a lot of help either when the water was steaming hot. Plus…” you trail off, not really wanting to talk ill of Webber.
“Mark gave her food poisoning when he took her to lunch,” Charles butted in, making you give him a look. You forgot he was in the room.
“Mark? As in Webber?” Sebastian asks, Charles nodding in response. “The bastard.”
“Oh c’mon Seb, he just wanted to treat me to lunch. It’s not like he poisoned my food on purpose.”
Seb sighs deeply before agreeing, “You’re right. Sorry. I’m just– I don’t know.”
“I get it. I mean, this is my second time at the medical tent in three months. Makes you think how accident prone I am,” you joke. Sebastian laughs, and you’re glad you got the worried look in his face away.
“The one in Spa was completely your fault, but we may have to pin this one on Mark,” Seb teases. You shoot him a grin, “Yeah, we can say that.”
Before you could talk more, though, a PR person from both Ferrari and Aston Martin came in to fetch Charles and Sebastian.
“What about me?” you ask, getting up from your bed. It wasn’t like you were injured or anything, you were just a little sick and had a bit of a stomach ache. You’d already thrown up earlier, so you felt pretty normal now.
“Sorry, we have orders to keep you here.”
You scoff, “Please. What can they do if I walk out?”
Before the Ferrari PR agent could reply, though, you were already out the room. She stands there helpless, making Sebastian and Charles chuckle to each other before following you. You were always stubborn when you wanted to be.
The second you’re out of the medical tent, camera flashes overwhelm your eyes. You walk past them as you always do, but the contrast of the light to the night sky makes you a bit lightheaded again, having to hold Sebastian’s arm for support. He moves your hand from his arm to his own hand, interlocking it with yours and pull you through the crowd. There were no words needed to be said, he always knew what you needed. You’re starting to think he can read minds.
Once past the annoying lot of cameras, you make it to the media pen where at least they pestered you in a more civil way. The interviewers were all over you and Charles, looking for some inside scoop on ‘Ferrari drama.’ Turns out, the media thought you tried to purposely take Charles out a la brocedes style. Because of this you had to clarify to every person you talked to that, “No, I did not try to take Charles out on purpose. I passed out. We’re good. Yes, we’re still friends.”
Once that was all over, you headed over to the Channel 4 area to give a certain someone a piece of your mind. “Mark Webber.”
The man turns around to the mention of his full name, smiling when he notices who it is. “Y/N! Glad you’ve come and joined us! We’re on in about five minutes, we can do a segment about the crash but if you wanna talk about something else on screen that’s fine too, we can–”
“You gave me food poisoning!” you butt in. “I cannot believe you.” His coworkers give him a look, as if they were holding in a laugh at him being scolded.
Mark stands there with his mouth agape, unsure what to say. “Wasn’t that three days ago? Are you sure it’s me?”
Rolling your eyes, you reply, “Yes, I’m sure it’s you. It started three days ago, and guess who I was with when I ate something unusual three days ago? Oh right, it’s you!”
He pauses for a moment before bursting into laughter, trying to cover his mouth to no avail. “Sorry, it’s not funny that you almost crashed, I’m glad you’re safe, but– ha!– I cannot believe it was because of the dodgy Indian food!”
You gave him a shove, trying to act mad, but the smile on your face betrayed you. His laughter was contagious. “You are such an asshole.”
“Awh cheer up,” he gives you a side hug, ruffling your hair a little. “Sorry for giving you food poisoning, mate. I’ll make it up to you, whaddya think about lunch on me tomorrow?”
You escape his side hug when you hear him say that, “Absolutely not! I’m never trusting you again with food recommendations.”
The statement makes him laugh again, and you chuckle along with him. Hard to be mad at someone who didn’t do it on purpose. Sebastian walked over to the two of you, having watched the interaction from afar.
“Look who’s coming over,” Mark mumbled, making you notice Seb trying to pretend to just ‘bump’ into the two of you. “Still competitive ‘till now, eh? Don’t worry, I’m not trying to out-mentor you,” Mark says out loud, grabbing the attention of the German.
Seb tilts his head with a faux oblivious look, “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” He grabs you by the arm and ‘discreetly’ pulls you over to his side. ‘No idea’ my ass.
The Australian scoffs with a grin, “Whatever you say mate. Listen, I gotta get back because our feed is going live in a few minutes, but you two take care, alright? Nice to see you again Seb.”
“You too, Mark.” Sebastian replies, this time genuinely. While the media knew the two drivers were now on good terms, they didn’t know just how close they had gotten. The two went bowling at least once every two months just to catch up with each other, you being there for half their competitions– yes, they still competed. Apparently that sense of wanting to beat your former teammate does not go away. So far this year, Mark’s been winning.
Before Mark completely walked away, he looked back at you for a second, “Oh, and, I am happy you got out injury free from that nasty crash. Genuinely glad you’re okay. Sorry that my dodgy food contributed to your sickness.”
You wave him off, “It’s fine, Mark. It’s not like you could’ve known I would get food poisoning. Although, next time maybe check online reviews.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” he smiled, waving you a goodbye as he ran to his coworkers who were already getting impatient.
You shake your head with a grin, “Well at least that’s over with.”
Sebastian slings his arm around your shoulder, “True. So want to get dinner?”
“Absolutely not. I think I’m done with food for a good while.”
“Well you have to eat something,” he insists, as you both walk through the paddock. “How about we get room service?”
“Eh, it’s late, I don’t really want a repeat of Monaco 2019.”
Monaco 2019 was when you and Seb got room service at 10pm because you didn’t check the time. Safe to say the staff weren’t very happy with that. You both felt so bad while eating that food.
“We can just get McDonalds then,” you suggest.
“McDonalds?” Charles asks, popping out from god knows where.
“Jesus, where the hell were you hiding? The atoms?” You ask.
“I was here the whole time.”
“You were not,” Sebastian comments. Charles simply shrugs, tagging along with the two of you, not caring that he was obviously third wheeling a moment. “So McDonalds?”
You roll your eyes, “Yes, McDonalds. But you’re paying because you’re tagging along.”
“No fair! Sebastian is richer than me!”
You both give Charles a look at the same time. Charles thinks it’s eerie how alike the two of you were.
“Charles,” Sebastian starts, patting the Monegasque’s back with one arm with his other still slung around your shoulders. Your accident made him very clingy, but you weren’t about to tell him that. “Let me phrase this as nicely as I can; you are from Monaco. You are rich.”
Charles lets out a sigh, “Fine. I’ll buy the food.”
You clap, “Fuck yeah! Food on the rich man!”
“We have the same salary in our contracts?”
“Shh, that’s not important,” you say, shushing Charles. “Food on the rich man! Although, we may have to go to the hotel right after and just get take out. I can feel Mark’s Indian food from three days ago still fighting with me.”
Charles is the one to roll his eyes this time, “I’ll get the car so we can get there faster, your highness.”
“Thank you, Lord Perceval.”
“Don’t call me that!” he shouts, already walking away to the parking lot.
That left you and Sebastian alone again, just enjoying the company of one another, walking slowly down the paddocks. There were few people now, most having gone back to their hotels to call it a night.
“You know, I’m glad I found you.”
The words make you look up at the older driver, who you find smiling at you. “What do you mean by that?”
“I mean obviously we would find each other, there’s only so many drivers in Formula One. But I mean I’m glad I found you in this life.”
“Do you think we don’t find each other in other lives?”
Sebastian pauses and thinks for a second. He’s thought about the other career paths he could have taken throughout his life– other lives he could have lived. He knows there’s no logical way, but he thinks he still would have found you in those lives. The thought makes him smile to himself.
“No, I think we do.”
“Well then good. Because me too,” you reply, giving him a smile of your own. “Why did you suddenly think about it though?”
Sebastian shrugs, “I don’t know. I just felt suddenly sentimental. Feels like a chapter of my life closed but I’m not sure what or why.”
Little did he know that he would start contemplating retirement a few weeks after that.
“Oh well, it doesn’t matter. Whether we find each other in other lifetimes, I mean.”
Seb raises his eyebrow, him now being the one confused. “What do you mean?”
“I mean we’re both here now. Enjoying each other’s company. Why bother thinking about versions of ourselves in other universes when we’ve got each other in this one?”
Sebastian gives you the most genuine, softest smile at that. “I love you, I don’t tell you that enough.”
You scrunch your face, “Ew. Sounds like a love confession. Sorry but you’re too old for me.”
“You know what I mean. I love you but not in that way. That’s just gross,” Sebastian says, hitting your shoulder.
“Relax old man, I’m just teasing,” you giggle, trying to avoid his hit. “Love you too. Ew. Sorry, not great with verbal affection. Pretty sure that just made me throw up a bit, and that’s not even with the help of the food poisoning.”
Sebastian just shakes his head, “Okay c’mon now, Charles will be annoyed with how slow we’re walking.”
Later that night, the three of you watched a cheesy romcom while sharing a shit load of fries and chicken nuggets. As you carried on through the night you thought to yourself that despite the hardships of F1, the crashing, the disappointments, the injuries– it brought you a second family you never thought you’d have. And you wouldn’t trade it for any other universe.
Although, maybe a universe where you didn’t get food poisoning.
#sebastian vettel#charles leclerc#sebastian vettel x reader#sebastian vettel x you#sebastian vettel imagine#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc x you#charles leclerc imagine#formula one#formula 1 imagine#formula 1 x reader#formula 1#f1 fanfic#formula 1 x you#f1 imagine
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❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ 𓍢 THAT GIRL (she’s delicious) kim chaewon x reader
↳ warnings: idol au, 6th member reader, pt 2 of rich girl yn drives chaewon even more crazy
THERE IS NOBODY THAT CHAEWON hates more than yn right now, how can one human being have such and ego? how can she be so sure of her self?
ever since yn has come up with the ridiculous idea that chaewon has a crush on her, which she doesn’t. she hasn’t let it go.
all she does is constantly tease the leader and become a royal pain in the ass, more than she usually is, everything she does has been getting on chaewon’s nerves.
like right now.
chaewon clenched her fists at yn’s irritating giggle as she leaned against kazuha interlocking her hands with the japanese girl who quietly listened to the girl rant about completely unimportant things with a small smile on her face.
she doesn’t understand how kazuha could deal with her and for some reason it bothered her how close the two were.
it always felt like there was something more, sakura told her that she was being dramatic and even if there was something going on why does it matter.
“it matters because I don’t want anyone I care about dating that demon.” is what chaewon had said to the older girl who rolled her eyes in response muttering a “yeah right.” clearly not believing chaewon’s reason. “what’s that supposed to mean?” she asked the older girl who just ignored her, “that girl is evil.”
chaewon scrunched her face in disgust watching the duo, she walked over to them with determination, “why are you guys fooling around, we’re supposed to be practicing.”
kazuha flinches at the leaders tone while yn just flipped her hair over her shoulder and looked at her nails, her hands still interlocked with kazuha’s.
chaewon narrowed her eyes at their hands, getting a weird feeling in her chest, which was definitely not jealousy and was concern for kazuha.
“why are you so pissy?” yn asked, chaewon opened her mouth to respond but was cut off by yn, “how does my nose look?” she asks turns her head to side to show her side profile, “I think a nose job is the way to go right now.”
chaewon squinted at the girls antics, while kazuha shakes her head, “your nose is perfect.” she says.
“oh my gosh really?” yn asks leaning her face closer to kazuha’s with a smile on her face, “are you just saying that?”
kazuha was about to respond but was cut short by a very irritated leader, “who cares!? and I am not pissy.”
“you so are.” yn says holding her hand out towards the leader who looks at it in confusion, “pull me up.”
chaewon rolls her eyes and pulls the girl up from the floor a little too harsh which caused yn to lean into her extra close.
“and I know exactly why.” she whispers and chaewon’s eyes widened at their close proximity.
yn then leans away from her and turns to kazuha who got up as well, “well, let’s practice.”
chaewon watched as they walk towards eunchae and groans, what does she mean “she knows why”? how cocky can that girl be?
this going to be a long practice.
practice was long over and chaewon laid her bed staring at the ceiling while the simpsoms played in the background on her laptop.
she has to set the record straight with yn, the more days go on the more yn keeps dragging this crush thing.
she lets out a sigh and gets up from her bed and walks over to yn’s room she rolled her eyes at the gold door knocker on the girls door, she’s so extra.
chaewon reluctantly uses the door knocker and opens the door when she hears a soft “come in.”
when she walks into the room genie by snsd fills her ears as it plays from yn’s sparkly cd player.
it felt like walking into a new world, she’s never been in yn’s room before and it looks like sharpay evans barfed all over it.
she slowly walked into yn’s room and glanced at the floor looking at yn’s cat who slept on her crown shaped bed.
she turned to look at yn stood at her dancing and singing along to the song.
“did you know I actually have an exact replica of the outfit they wear for this song you know the white one with the fur?” yn says not even glancing at chaewon, still looking through her closet.
“daddy’s money?” chaewon asks leaning against yn’s dresser.
“tiffany unnie actually, she gave me the one she actually wore like a year ago, best moment ever, she’s like the older sister I never had now.”
chaewon raises her eyes brows in surprise but doesn’t let her voice show it, “oh yeah, you only have brothers right?”
“yep.” yn says before finally turning around to face chaewon, “now, why are you here? finally confessing your love?”
chaewon rolls her eyes as she watches yn laugh at her own words and sat on her fluffy bed, “that’s definitely it right?”
“no.”
“I’m actually here to talk about that.” chaewon says and yn raises a brow intrigued.
“I don’t have a crush on you.” chaewon says firmly and yn tilts her head to the side, “really?”
“yep.” chaewon says mocking the girls words, “no love here.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“what?!”
“just look at how you were acting at practice today.” yn says, chaewon thought the girl was looking her but she was actually looking at herself in the mirror behind her, “you’re obsessed with me, look at how acted over me just being close with zuha who is my best friend.”
“best friend.” chaewon mutters, “yeah right.”
“see, you’re so jealous.”
“I am not!”
“you so are.”
chaewon groans and throws her head back, how can she convince yn she doesn’t have a crush on her, maybe reverse psychology…
chaewon curses herself for what she’s about to do and tries to clam herself down from the feeling of fluster she already feels because she knows it’s gonna skyrocket after she does this.
she marches over to yn who looks at her with a taunting smile on her face, she grabs both sides of the girls face and smashes her lips onto yn’s, a surprised yelp escaping from the girl.
for a millisecond she feels yn kiss back but she immediately pulls away, chaewon can’t help but smile at the shock on the girls face.
she’s been waiting for the day that yn would become speechless and it seems like today is the day.
“would someone who has a crush on you do that? she asks with a smug smile.
yn is silent for a second before a smile slowly makes its way to her face and chaewon’s slowly disappears.
“yes, yes they would.”
#lesserafim x reader#chaewon x reader#kim chaewon x reader#chaewon#kim chaewon#chaewon le sserafim#lesserafim#girl group imagines
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ateez and their top 3 kinks — masterlist
genre. hc, smut...? rating. mature. warnings. sexual content mdni, yn wears a dress in one part, kinks and stuff, marking, rough-ish, mentions of toys, somnophilia, size kinks, praise, degradation, bdsm themes, public/semi-public sex, breath play, it’s like a lot of kinks. wc. 1.1k.
[ lilo’s notes . . . ] uh yeah i wrote this at 2 in the morning i have no fucking idea why i decided to do this but anyways- enjoy :3
hongjoong
marking. he’d mark you and fucking love to have you mark him… he’s literally so possessive and would never pass the opportunity to physically show people you’re his and he’s yours. hickeys literally everywhere and so many of them you’ll have a hard time covering them up—neck, chest, thighs, back, anywhere.
orgasm control. he’s a natural leader, what he says goes. so, of course, he’d want to be the one to control when you finish. which leads me to my next point.
overstimulation. he personally doesn’t like to be overstimulated but god does he love doing it to you. he loves the whines and twitches as he continue pressing a vibrator against your clit because, let’s be fr, he’d definitely be using plenty of toys (as well as himself).
seonghwa
shibari. i’ve said it once and i’ll say it again and again and again. this man loves nothing more than to tie you up in the most intricate and borderline artistic ways for his own (and your) pleasure.
sensory deprivation. he absolutely loves the trust and vulnerability that comes with this. specifically, he likes to blindfold you and run his hands all over you as lightly as he can, barely brushing over all the spots he knows make you feel good, soft plushy lips ghosting over your skin. and no matter how light it is, you’ll always feel everything ten times more intensely, having nothing else to focus on but his voice and his touch. also, ice cubes.
praise. this is something he’ll incorporate into your everyday lives outside of bedroom a activities. he’ll make sure to tell you you’re doing well while your working on something. gentle head pats and approving nods.
yunho
size kink. this is so obvious but like literally look at him, he makes everyone seem so tiny compared to him. he likes to stare as he pushes his huge dick into you, jaw practically dropping as his huge hands pin your hips to the mattress. speaking of hands…
fingers in mouth…(?) i have no idea if this is an actual kink, but i just know this is so yunho. he’s the type of guy to have you suck your own release off him after he fingers you, getting off on the way your lips wrap around his digits. he would definitely have two fingers or his thumb stuffed in your mouth as he fucks you.
breath play. is it obvious i really like his hands? anyways, i will not be elaborating on this for the sake of my sanity.
yeosang
body worship. is this a seonghwaddict post without body worship being involved in some way? that’s right, no. he’s more into giving the body worship, but when he’s receiving it he becomes the ultimate softie (in my head, he’d be leaning towards being a hard dom tho)
edging. oh he would absolutely love your subtle frustrated huffs every time he stops whatever he’s doing, thinking you look so so cute when you’re desperate and practically begging. and then he’d finally let you finish, giving you the best orgasms you’ve ever experienced.
wax play. usually yeosang is a pretty calm guy outside of the bedroom and he likes to maintain that when it comes to foreplay, building up the anticipation. he specifically likes those candles that melt the wax into massage oil.
san
bondage. i think shibari would also be suitable for san, but he would do it with the usual ropes unlikes seonghwa. additionally, san is totally into marking. bondage/shibari would include exactly that—bruises and rope burns.
locations. ok so i didn’t exactly know what to call this, but he would not give a single shit about where and when he fucks you. backstage during an intermission? you’ll be dragged into a dressing room so he can give you some quick head before going back on stage, someone pounding on the door but he ignores them. at a dinner with some friends, you looking as ravishing as ever? he’ll either discreetly slip his hands up the skirt of your dress to finger you, drag you to a bathroom when no one’s looking, or drag you into the backseat of his car and rip that dress of you. this man has no patience and would rather not wait until you’re in the private confines of your home.
manhandling. he has all those muscles for a reason.
mingi
size kink. the twin towers have very obvious size kinks. like, how could they not? they’re fucking huge.
praise. giving and receiving. mingi likes being told how well he’s doing as much as he likes to be the one telling his partner. he needs the reassurance to make sure what he’s doing feels good for you, he’d hate to hurt you.
somnophilia. ok idk if this counts as it, but he thinks it’s so cute when he fucks you to sleep. his touches and his words and the way he fills you up so gentle soothing it’s like you’re being lulled to sleep. like he’s literally such a softie, okay? he knows his dick game’s good.
wooyoung
humiliation/degradation. giving and receiving. come on guys he basically admitted this already. he would be such a menace in bed, he would coo at you and mock you as he fucks you stupid.
biting. is this even a surprise? he loves to sink his teeth into you as a form of affection, listening to your whimpers and feeling you writhe beneath him as he… multitasks.
dry humping. he doesn’t care that it makes him seem like an inexperienced high schooler making out with his partner. he loves the friction he gets when he slowly grinds against you through your layers of clothing (and he knows you love it too). idk and like he would get desperate at some point, almost there but not quite there yet because it’s not quite enough, and yeah i just like the idea of that.
jongho
sir. he would love to be called sir. or daddy, but i think sir is just so jdjsjhcjsnc like i’m literally pacing in my room as i write this. JUST IMAGINE IT FOR A SECOND PLEASEEE- “please” “please what” “please, sir” “good. very good, darling” AHHHHHHHH
location. couldn’t care less about where he fucks you pt 2. kitchen counter, living room couch, dressing room in a clothing store, in the shower, bathroom stall, up against a wall, the list could literally go on forever.
eye contact. whether it’s forced or not, he thinks eye contact is one of the hottest things. he likes missionary for that exact reason—so he can look you in the eyes, look at you in your fucked out state, as he makes you feel things you know no one else can make you feel.
ot8 (aka things i wanted to give to all of them, with no explanation)
thigh riding.
i want them so bad.
[ networks ... ] @cromernet @blankjournal
[ perm taglist — open ... ] @ad0rechuu @sankatchu @mlink64 @yeosangsbb
#cromernet#bj net#ateez smut#ateez x reader#ateez headcanons#kim hongjoong x reader#kim hongjoong smut#seonghwa x reader#park seonghwa smut#yunho x reader#jeong yunho smut#yeosang x reader#yeosang smut#san x reader#choi san smut#mingi x reader#song mingi smut#wooyoung x reader#wooyoung smut#jongho x reader#jongho smut#ateez hard thoughts#ateez hard hours
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Make you feel better.
•WARNINGS: SMUT. Vaginal sex (female top), unprotected sex, blowjob, handjob, degradation kink, spanking, dirty talk. Explicit mentions of injuries.
Pairing: TCW!Anakin Skywalker x female reader.
Summary: You are a nurse in the 501st squad and General Skywalker needs some assistance. Only you could help him feel better.
Word count: 4.8K. This started as a blurb, but I’m incapable of shutting up. I haven’t stood up from my chair since 10am, so enjoy.
A/N: I’m so so so so in love with this man, it’s sickening. Scenario inspired by Ahsoka ep.5!. NOT PROOFREAD!!, english is my second language, so please be gentle. If there are any mistakes, pls let me know in private so I can correct them, thanks :) Also I have a serious issue between differentiating “in” and “on” situations, so bare with me lmao
Also first one shot since like forever????
____________________________________________
As a war nurse, you are used to treating the nastiest of wounds, the bloodiest of cuts, the vilest of injuries.
You have chosen your profession out of love and vocation. As cliche as it might be, the true desire of your heart was to help people feel better: The plan was to specialize as a pediatric nurse, even becoming a doctor one day. Working at a hospital, maybe have a private practice with that medic husband of yours you often dreamed about.
All of that was erased the moment war erupted.
Fresh out of nursing school, every single one of your classmates, including yourself, were drafted to report to duty as nurses on the frontlines. The assignment of troops was random, but as if fate had decided, you were put at the service of the 501st. Little did you know, the job was harder than you had ever imagined it would be; and the constant bombing and deceased people you had to observe had nothing to do with it.
It was the general of the squad that made your job more complicated than it had to be.
General Skywalker.
Well, it wasn’t exactly him, but the persistent crush you had on him.
Needless to say, it was extremely unprofessional to be daydreaming of the person who was technically your boss. Even more unethical to be full-on fantasizing about his dick size when you were supposed to be suturing injured clones. But dammit, was it hard. So hard to be so close to his pulling presence and yet so far from achieving anything real with the man. Not that you had tried. Public rejection would be even more embarrassing than crushing on him.
Anakin Skywalker hardly recognized your existence. Between his duty as leader on the field, his responsibilities as Jedi off-hours and the reduced sleep time he could squeeze in between battles, he didn’t have time to remember the name of one of the nurses of his legion. Especially when he never went to the tents himself; the god of a man was indestructible.
Fuck, was he hot.
Just watching him scream: “Forward!” every day, as he ran directly to conflict with bravery was enough to have you dripping. His whole General image was your own personal definition of lust; his armor, the tone in which he would deliver orders, the frown he would wear until he had defeated each and every single one of his enemies. The smile he would flash whenever they won over a battle. Luckily, it was often.
But you had this idea that, out all of the medical staff, you were his least favorite. Maybe it had something to do with how social you were: always distracting his soldiers with jokes as you cleaned their cuts so they wouldn’t think of the sting. Or maybe it had something to do with how emotional you could get during your shifts: always fighting with your colleagues so they would treat the troopers as people, not numbers. Even if he had created a culture of trust among his peers, you weren’t sure if he appreciated that you caused so much trouble within the medical wing.
You had endured a year of stolen glances, salivating at the sight of him from afar and lonely nights with just your hand. Cheeks would blush so fast whenever he would catch you checking him out, and maybe you were drunk on the smell of medical alcohol, but you swore that you caught him checking you out too once.
But that was long forgotten the next day, when he came back to being his same old cold persona. You forgave that aspect of him: the atrocities he had committed in the name of the Republic weighed heavy on his shoulders, slouching his proud figure whenever he had to face the reality of his situation.
The same you had to face everyday.
“Who’s available?!” Yelling was the official way of communicating over here. You were finishing up a bandage on a trooper that had lost his left leg, meaning that you had to answer the call of duty.
The Ryloth takeover was more hectic than the squad had ever anticipated. Soldiers falling left and right, some didn’t even make it to the medical bay, just straight to the pseudo-morgue that was built to then give them a final resting place.
“I’m almost ready to take the next one!” You screamed over the noise from the ships flying over.
“Ms. Dana.” Someone called you by your last name from outside the medical tent. “General Skywalker’s tent in 5.”
That made you drop the jar of gauze.
No one has ever been there, you thought.
Outside of his skippy padawan and uptight master, Anakin’s tent had always been off limits to the public. His sacred place to unwind in peace. The ways he must unwind after a long day of battle…
“Ms. Dana!” That woke you up from a very explicit image of Anakin jerking off the stress away.
“C-coming!” You choked. Grabbing your personal kit, you ran to the destination that had your clit throbbing with anticipation.
You would see the sheets he slept on, the place where he storaged all of his robes, the shower that saw him naked every day. Jealousy of an inanimate object took over you as quickly as it left, making you feel stupid for getting angry at a room.
You almost didn’t notice that the battle was over, the only remnants of it were the people being moved in gurneys, the clouds of dust and the beaten up ships. Your outfit was probably not the best to endure the hardness of the Ryloth landscape: a tight, white buttoned up dress with a stupid little hat on top of your head. You hated the son of a bitch, it was ridiculous as fuck, but necessary for recognition among all of the personnel working in camps.
Anakin will think it’s stupid too.
He will think you are stupid.
The self-degradation stopped once you reached the entrance of his tent. Gulping exaggeratedly, you were unsure if to knock, announce yourself or wait until he was annoyed enough to come out and see you standing there like an idiot.
“Come in.” It was his voice who cruelly cut the silence, growling.
With shaking legs, the green fabric that formed his personal chamber was removed from your eyesight and you were hit by the delicious smell of him. So manly, so musty. It smelled like his cologne all over and you wished you bottle that up to spray it on your own sheets.
It was less rewarding to see him sitting on the edge of his bed with an exasperated stare, analyzing your figure with obnoxiousness. You even cut short your eye-fucking tour of his body when you met his tired eyes. Have you taken too long to get here?
“So they sent you.” He sighed, deviating his gaze. The evident disgust at your presence made you slouch timidly. You were a good nurse. The best one in the camp, if you dare to say. “I told Rex I’m fine. I don’t need assistance, it’s just a bruise.” His tone was harder than his words, surprisingly.
“Well, now that I’m here, might as well take a look at that, huh?” Fighting through the devastating embarrassment, you proceeded to walk over his bed to place your kit. Biting your lip, you feared to ask the next question. “Shall we get started?”
He was one step away from rolling his eyes. “Fine. Just do it quickly.”
“Got it, sir.” Weird. There was no chilly breeze, however, Anakin had just flinched. “Care to show me where the bruise is?”
He hesitated for a bit, closing his eyes with frustration. You were about to ask again when he exhaled with annoyance. “It’s not that big of a deal.”
“I would like to confirm that. Please, sir, the faster we do this, the faster I’m on my merry way.” You hated that he was desperate to kick you out, but apparently your compelling argument helped to accelerate the process.
After seeing that he still felt fuzzy about checking the bruise, you decided to start somewhere else. “Let me get started with this cut over here. Looks pretty nasty.”
You doubted if to take a seat, scared that it would be too close to him, but you needed the space to maneuver. Giving up to your internal fight, you sat down next to him and began by cleaning up the wound that escaped the fabric of his burgundy robe.
“That’s nothing.” He mumbled under his breath, still not looking at you.
Ignoring his attempt to diminish your work, you decided to also ignore your basic instinct to start a conversation to ease up the process. The internal alarms of survival were yelling at you not too. However, there was a moment where the alarms shut down, basically because every part of your brain shut down simultaneously and it was when you had to grip his bicep to make it stand still. Your fingers dug into the hard muscle, feeling how every little bit flexed under your fingertips, proving first-hand just how strong he was.
“Done. Now I’m gonna clean the ones in your face.” You poured some alcohol into another cotton ball and turned to face him.
Being face to face with Anakin Skywalker had been the most intimidating experience of your life and that hot as hell scar and mean frown didn’t make it easier. In fact, it had you clenching around nothing. You cleared your throat before slowly reaching out for his chin, pulling him to give you a better look of his dirty and exhausted aspect.
He gasped the second the puffy ball made contact with a cut on his left cheekbone. You took that opportunity to bring him some comfort, despite your irregular breathing and overall tenseness. Rubbing your thumb along his jaw, you saw his pain decreased until the sting was gone. You moved to another cut on his forehead, repeating the process until you had treated most of them gone. When you swapped your current cotton ball with a new one so caught him looking down on your body.
It’s this stupid uniform.
He sensed your eyes on him and quickly deviated them to focus on your irises. You gulped before continuing your beeline around his face, this time close to the scar you often fantasize about in bed.
“That one 's old. No need to worry about it.” He joked.
He joked.
Unable to form a coherent comeback, you limited yourself to give him a nasal laugh, demonstarting that you got it.
“Thought you wouldn't be this silent. You’re more chatty with the clones.” He said, slightly tilting his head.
“I didn’t know you wanted me to talk.” You replied, this time with a little smile as a peace offering.
“What did you think I wanted?” He frowned, interrupting your cleaning.
“I thought you wanted me out as quickly as possible.” You stopped momentarily to accommodate his face once more into a position you could work with.
He let out a dry laugh. “It’s nothing personal. I just want to come back to work.”
“You just came back from battle and want to keep working? Do you ever stop?” You joked back, feeling how the atmosphere inside the tent had changed. Feeling more comfortable, you switched your body a little, now your chests were aligned, just inches apart.
“Hardly.” He clicked his tongue, gaze slightly dropping to give a quick sweep of your lips.
“Well, you should rest. Relax. That’s an important part of recovery.” You advised him, finishing up the last cut. You took a cloth of your kit and used it to clean some of the dry blood and dirt off him.
“Can’t stay still.” He shook his head.
“There are other ways to relax.” You shrugged your shoulders, taking that little pause to admire his beautiful demeanor. Those blue eyes could spell you into saying yes to basically anything.
“Like?” He pushed, licking his lips as his intense gaze focused on making you feel smaller and smaller.
“Like…” You dirty minded bitch, think about something other than sex!
Almost like he could hear your inner dialogue, he chuckled.
“Like taking a walk or reading a book.” You finally came up with a pg-13 alternative to relaxing.
“Could be.” He snickered. After his beautiful giggle dialed down, you felt the tension switching. Thicker. More intense. “More of a physical guy myself.”
Feeling the pull to his plump lips, you rushed to get out of the trouble zone. “Ready for me to see this world-famous bruise?”
Your brain short circuited when he snapped his shoulder armor in one swift move and threw it on the floor. The next thing had you mentally panting and physically in shock: Anakin was removing his robes to expose his naked and bruised torso. The skin of his middle part would dip perfectly into breathtaking abs, not to mention the flexing of his arms became more evident to you without the stupid robe in your way.
The reddened-purplish spot expanded all the way from the right side of his lower abdomen, all the way down the waistband of his pants. The silent gawking didn’t go unnoticed by him, a little smirk coming to greet your widened eyes. That woke you up enough to get moving.
“H-how-“ You took a moment to regain some composure. “How did this happen?”
“A droideka fell on me.” He muttered shortly, almost as if the portion of information brought shame to him.
“Alright, I’m gonna need to palpate the area to know if there’s any further damage.” You announced with more nerves than a medical professional should speak to their patients.
Because he was now standing up, sitting down didn’t give you the best height to disinfect some of the minor cuts that tainted his perfect tanned skin.
“Sir, I’m going to need you to lay down for me, please.” Formalities came back as soon as you felt threatened by his overpowering presence again.
“No.” He spat, furrowing his eyebrows. “I’d prefer to stand, if it’s possible. Please.”
“Sure.” After all, it was your job to make the process easier for him. On the other hand, that meant having to kneel in front of him. That caught him off guard and almost backed down when you reached out to feel the tampered skin. “Please tell me where it hurts.”
Your little fingers began to poke around the wounded area, massaging the zones where you knew a more serious injury could present itself. It didn’t go under your radar the way he would have goosebumps whenever you looked up to him or groped him more firmly. Repeating over and over: “How does it feel here?” you made your way all over the part of the bruise that was visible to the eye.
“Good. It seems like no internal organs have been compromised.” You announced with a little smile. Now the part you dreaded -and kind of expected- was next. “Uhm, I’m going to need to check the rest of the bruise to make sure you didn’t break your hip, sir.”
“Anakin.” He spat.
“Pardon?” You blinked rapidly.
“Call me Anakin. It makes this… easier.” He cleared his throat.
“Okay, Anakin.” You nodded. How you said the next thing so calmly was still a mystery to you. “So, I know this part may be uncomfortable, but I’ll need to remove your pants out of the way. Probably your underwear as well, if I need to take a better look. Don’t worry, I’ve seen enough male anatomy for this to be routinary for me-”
In the middle of your speech, as you dropped your gaze to prepare yourself for dipping your fingers under his pants, something snapped your attention.
The gigantic bulge right in front of your eye line.
How you had missed such a tent while you palpated his abdomen was another mystery to you.
“Uhm- I-” You choked, unwilling to look up. “I-”
Anakin made no effort to try and hide his wood. But what was the point? It was already there. You had already noticed it.
Mumbling, you decided to continue being professional. It was a normal response after all. “I’ll go ahead and lower your pants, sir- Anakin, sorry.” You corrected yourself, but it was too late.
You had already seen the reason why he made you call him Anakin: his dick twitched the second you said “sir”. Now that was interesting.
Your hand pulled down the brown pants, lowering his black underwear at the same time, only revealing his right hip, leaving the bulge quietly covered. Anakin’s chest rose uncontrollably, flinching every now and then when your hand would get too close to his boner, or when your warm breath would fan his exposed hip. When you finally dared to meet his gaze, to let him know you were almost through with the exam, you were pleased with the view above you.
Rose pink cheeks, bottom lip trapped in between his teeth, darkened gaze fixed on your cleavage. It was the equivalent of liquid courage in human form.
“Does this hurt?” You felt up another portion, this time closer to his groin. When he murmured a weak “no”, you inched even closer. “And here?” Same response.
When you got to a point where your pinky grazed the bulge and he gasped, you knew this was the point of no return.
“And does this hurt?” You asked, slowly palming the thick shaft that was threatening to rupture his pants at any given second.
Swallowing harshly, Anakin refused to speak up a word. Instead, he let you carry on with your devilious plan.
“And this? Does it hurt, sir?” You wrapped your hand around the still clothed member, rubbing faster and harder.
He limited himself to closing his eyes, moaning on the low as your hand gripped his swell cock with more pressure and more confidence. Your ego was so high up in the sky that you had the impulse to rub your lips against the fabric already stained with pre-cum.
“Sir, can I finish up the exam?” Your wide doe eyes were quite the contrary of your filthy intentions.
Once he nodded with hooded eyes, you fished his veiny cock from out of the confinements of his underwear and tugged it out for you to admire all of its glory. It sprung free, the tip pointing directly at you, like it knew. Involuntarily, your mouth opened in admiration to such a big and thick frame. Anakin’s sly smirk made another surprise appearance at your gawking.
You were acquainted with male genitalia. But not like this. Never like this.
So huge. So intimidating. So mouth-watering.
“It’s almost like you have never seen one. Not as huge as this one, right?” You shook your head, biting your lip as you took in the whole image. You needed a minute to wrap around the idea that he was carrying this weapon everywhere he went.
Your hands -yes, plural, because you needed both to handle such beast- pumped fast to grant him the deliberation he so desperately craved. Yanking his thick shaft in between your palms had you pooling all over your white panties, like a goddamn slut. His hips were thrusting at the rhythm you had set, fucking your fist like he pleased. Feeling how he tensed his abdomen, the climax was closed.
Taking a last leap of fate, you stopped the jerking off momentarily and clutched the fabric of his pants down with both hands, revealing his whole lower part to your delight. His thighs, oh, his muscular thighs always did unholy things to you and to have them right there for you to grip was making you rub your own thighs together. Foreseeing what was to come, you let your hair down, losing the stupid hat.
Digging your nails on the hardness of his leg, you licked the tip of his shaft, testing the water. The little drop of pre-cum you managed to catch was salty and warm, so deliciously milky. Moaning, you opened your mouth to lazily envelop his tip, rubbing it without interest, just softly teasing him.
“Look at you. Who would say that you would be so unprofessional, sucking your commanding general’s cock? Huh?” Anakin mocked you from his proud stand. “Miss little giggling nurse turned out to be a filthy cockslut. Salivating at the sight of my dick.”
You moaned, still pampering the reddened head of his cock.
“I could.” He chuckled, his thumb coming to caress your jaw just like you did to him earlier. “You think I haven’t noticed the way you stare when I walk by the medical tent? How you practically undress me with your eyes? Such a desperate slut. Begging to be fuck just right. Acting like you're not thinking about hopping on this dick while working.”
After giving a last open mouthed kiss on the sensitive tip, you opened your mouth and presented your pink tongue to him, for which he rewarded you with a smiling expression.
“You offer yourself to make me feel better?” He cocked an arrogant brow.
Nodding, you let out a small, high pitched whimper to hurry him up.
“Hope you know what you’re doing, baby.”
And with that, he grabbed a handful of your locks with his gloved limb and the other one he used to tug your chin further down, making room for the rest of his cock. In the blink of an eye, he was fucking your throat raw, having no mercy for you or the tears that spilled from our eyes when he would especially far down. He emphasized repeatedly how he had to train you to take all of him in, that you were not properly ready to take someone as big as him. He even said it with pity, making fun that you hadn’t been fucking with real men.
But he was here now. And he was going to take care of you.
Even if you lack the ability to relax your throat enough for you to take the whole 9 inch monstrosity that was violating your breathing canal, he was appreciative of the way you gagged around him and the noises you made whenever the tip would hit a wall. He even praised the movements of your tongue on his underside, rewarding you with a little slap on your cheek. Anakin laughed when he heard your horny moan at the harsh action.
Suddenly, Anakin stopped bobbing your head up and down his length, causing the mess of saliva that was covering both you and him to dissolve into a mesly string connecting you two.
“Let me see how well your other hole makes me feel, baby. Up.” As your legs made an effort to stand without shaking, Anakin returned to his previous seating position, this time manspreading to let his cock breathe in all of its glory. Patting his lap, he called you in like a dog. “Here.”
Dying of shame at the wetness that dripped from your inner thighs, you spread yourself until both your knees were at each side of his hips. Anakin glanced at the leaking juices and fucking grinned the brightest smile.
“So wet just for sucking dick.” His index and middle finger retrieved some of the spill, playing with your sensitive nub on their way. He tasted the juices himself, licking his fingers clean. He hummed in approval, ripping your panties apart to have more access and drink up more of your arousal. “Pretty little pussy. Do you think it’ll fit?” He asked you with a narcissistic loop side smile, as he sucked some more off his fingers.
“I don’t know.” You answered honestly, shaking at the ministrations of his hands around your ass.
“It will.” He reassured you, pulling your skirt up and entangling it just above your hips. “You’ll make it fit.” He put his hands behind his back, on the bed, yielding control to you. “Now show me how bad you’ve been wanting this. Ride my dick.”
Using his strong shoulders for leverage, soon your slick pussy was sucking up his length. The first contact had you digging your nails on his shoulders, fighting through the pain of the stretch, this position only enlarging the already swollenness of his member. Gasping with an open mouth, you fought to push yourself even further down. Skin to skin, you were feeling all of him in: every curve, every wrinkle, every twitch. Even after remembering the condom, you opted for not mentioning it. There was no way you could say goodbye to feeling him bare.
Anakin pulled you in by the neck, drinking in the scream you let out when you bottomed out. His lips tasted better than anything you had ever tried, so sweet by nature and salty because of the sweat. You just wanted more and more; anything he was willing to give you.
“Faster.” Anakin demanded; clasping to your hips to bounce you harder on him, to remind you that this was about him, not you.
Obeying like the sub you were, you humped him faster, adjusting yourself to surround his shoulders with your arms so you could pull his hair. You knew he liked it by the way he purred on your ear, embracing your waist tighter to manhandle you better. The hug you were both entrapped in ended with his big hands holding both your ass cheeks, groping them in such a disrespectful manner: splitting them open, squeezing them until it hurt, slapping without any sort of consideration.
“Mhm, just like that, baby.” He praised blissed out, his hand cruelly smacking your already red and abused rear. “You do know how to ride dick. So good, taking me so well with this slutty pussy of yours.”
Chasing your own pleasure, you gripped him harder and grinded on his wood, rubbing your clit with his pubic bone. You whimpered when you felt the delicious shock on your clit, which only incentivized you to rock your hips even faster. You were close, so close to coming undone, clenching him like a vice.
“C’mon, you offer yourself to me, to use you as I seem fit.” Anakin pushed you back so you could see him clearly. “I want you to bounce, baby. Bounce those tight tits for me.”
Anakin removed three buttons of your dress, enough for him to get drunk on the sight of your boobs pressed together and bouncing, but not all the way exposed. Like instructed, you bounced on his dick like it was your job to do so, enamored by the view of him hypnotized by your jumping breasts. Your nipples would shyly come to greet out of your white top, albeit Anakin wouldn’t have the full show because of the fabric that still caged them.
Tired of the partial view, Anakin’s hands left your ass and traveled to their next destination: your full tits. Without removing another button, he took in the weight of your boobs inside of his palms and played with your meaty buds like he had never seen a pair before. The rough movements of his hands around the fat caused your dress to open a bit more, basically leaving you naked for him.
“They’re more gorgeous than I ever anticipated.” He muttered, before enveloping a peak inside his mouth and lapping at it repeatedly. “Seeing you with this lame excuse of a uniform it’s harder than going to war, baby. Craving a taste of you and not being able to do anything about it, it’s torture. Pure torture.” He moaned in a ragged voice, sucking in the same nipple with closed eyes, savoring it.
“You- you wanted me?” You cried, sliding in more frantically.
You were so close and he had it in his hands to make you come in that same instant.
“Baby, I’ve been dreaming about filling this pussy to the brim the second you were drafted.” He exhaled with a smile. “I hate seeing you with the clones: gifting them smiles that should belong to me, parading this cleavage around when it should be for my eyes only, showing off this ass when only I should know the feeling of it inside my palms.”
“Anakin! I’m coming! I’m coming!” You announced, simultaneously feeling how his dick twitched inside of you.
“Let me feel it, baby. Come all over my cock. Indulge me.” This time it was you who took the initiative to kiss him, thinking this would be your last chance to savour him before this was all over.
You convulsed around his dick, just like he asked, tumbling over his shoulder to regain your breath. Anakin followed short after you, shuddering as he spilled over, biting your shoulder to muffle his groan.
After the aftershocks dissipated and you regained consciousness, the shame of what had transpired hit you like a train. Fixing your dress to cover more of you, you wondered how long you should wait before saying something. Luckily, Anakin broke the ice first.
“Next time you should keep the hat. I like it.” He chuckled, making you giggle as well.
Needless to say, you were now expected to be in his tent every night after he came back from battle, split open for him, ready to take in all of the frustration of the day and make him feel better.
#anakin skywalker x reader#anakin skywalker smut#anakin#anakin skywalker#star wars#sw anakin#tcw anakin#ahsoka series#darth vader x you#darth vader x reader#darth vader
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