#he’s not smooth I guess is what I’m driving at | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

daizymax · 4 months

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wondrous | lmh (m)

summary: pregnancy is strange and uncomfortable and even kind of gross, but your loving husband is always willing to show you just how desirable and wonderful you are.

pairing: lee know x fem reader

genre: smut

word count: 5.3k

rating: mature (18+)

warnings & features: profanity; pregnancy; some body insecurities; binary gender talk; graphic sexual content; pregnant sex; dirty talk; lactation kink; creampie

author’s note: rewritten for stray kids and reuploaded from my old blog. hope you enjoy!

( click here to read on AO3 instead )

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Slamming the car door with more force than necessary is childish, and if your husband were here, he would probably tell you so. Well, maybe not in such blatant terms. First, he would probably ask you to explain what led you to such pissy behavior, and your answer would be that you’re frustrated and out of patience.

You hate that your patience is in such short supply these days. You know you are going to need all of it and then some when the baby comes.

You rest one of your hands on the crest of your bulging stomach and sigh softly. “I’m sorry,” you say to the ever-growing baby within. “I guess you might need to be patient with me, too, if it’s not too much to ask.”

The tears well up unbidden. That happens often lately with your hormones on the fritz. Evidently something as mundane as a shopping trip to the mall is enough to upset you nowadays. Then your mind dwells on how you should be grateful to be in a position to buy the things you want and need whenever you want, and that only makes you sob harder.

You allow the silly little breakdown to run its course, knowing it will be better to sit and let it out now before you drive home.

After a few minutes, you sniffle and wipe your wet cheeks in shame. After a couple more minutes of deep breaths, when you are certain you are stable enough to drive, you start the engine.

The commute home gives you some time to decompress, and the sight of Minho’s car in the driveway lifts your spirits. He told you this morning that he might have to work late this evening — which was fine by you since it translated to having more money for the pending expenses of birthing and raising a child — but having him home is even better.

A loud clang and a muttered curse greet you as you enter the front door. It may not be a polite reaction, but you can’t help but smile at whatever your husband is struggling with in the kitchen. You sling your shopping bags onto the couch and go to rescue him.

Minho is bent over at the waist, rummaging through a bottom cabinet with his backside to you. You take a moment to ogle the fit of his jeans appreciatively before making your presence known.

“Hi honey, need some help?”

He flinches and whirls around. “Heyyy, doll! I didn’t hear you come in.” He hastily combs his fingers through his smooth brown hair as if to compose himself for you.

“That’s because you were busy tearing down the kitchen, from the sound of it,” you laugh.

He does not even dispute your joke. He just groans in frustration and kicks his foot out behind him to close the cabinet. “Where do we keep the rice cooker? I swear I’ve looked everywhere.”

“Did you look here?” You pull open the correct cabinet near your calves and squat down to retrieve it. He rushes to stop you.

“Hey, hey, let me get it.” He comes over and crouches with you only to put his hands on your hips and guide you back up with him. “You shouldn’t exert yourself. I have a bun in that oven, lady.”

You snort loudly. “Don’t I know it. My whole day was an over-exertion, though. I think I can handle stooping over to grab the rice cooker.”

“Oh?” His face becomes concerned, eyebrows wrinkling and pink lips pouting adorably. His hands begin sliding up and down along your sides. “What was wrong with your day?”

“Oh, I’ve just decided I hate shopping for maternity clothes now,” you say, sighing heavily. The statement is so frivolous it makes you cringe, but the rest of your unimportant complaints come flooding out anyway. “They’re all so unflattering, not to mention it’s so uncomfortable trying them on. Getting undressed and redressed is such a pain in the ass. It’s like a whole fucking workout now, I swear to god.”

“Ah, I bet. Poor thing,” Minho says without a trace of condescension to his tone, and you envy his patience. He pulls you in for a hug in his strong arms, and your swollen stomach bumps against his flat one.

Inspired by his understanding, you continue unburdening your rather meaningless worries into his shoulder. “It was so crowded, too. I hate how everyone stares at me all the time just because I’m pregnant. And I especially hate when other parents come up to me and give me advice or tell me stories about their own pregnancies, like I fucking asked.”

Minho laughs and massages his fingertips into the back of your head. “I think they’re just trying to be kind and helpful. They only mean well.”

“Yeah, well, it’s also super annoying.”

“Sorry. What can I do to help?”

You shake your head and step back from him. “Right now I just want to shower and change my clothes. I’m not kidding about that ‘workout.’ I’ve been sweating for hours and I feel disgusting right now. The boob sweat is strong under this sweater right now.”

“Well, we’ve got a towel right here.” He whips the dish towel off the handle of the stove with a flourish and holds it up with a cheeky grin. “Let me help you.”

You laugh. “You want to dry my boobs off with that?”

“It’s clean!”

“Don’t be silly.”

“You’ll be glad for my silliness when our baby comes,” he says, dropping the towel to start tickling you mercilessly.

Your stomach muscles heave with your fit of giggles, and the baby starts kicking to join in on the commotion.

“Ah! No t-tickling, damnit! The b-baby doesn’t like it.”

“No?” Minho stops his playful torment and cups your stomach on either side. It only takes a second for him to feel what you mean. “I think maybe she does.”

“Or he. The baby could be a boy, you know.”

The two of you have decided to keep the gender a surprise until the birth, but that does not stop your husband from speculating.

“Could be,” he says a bit dismissively. He kneels down on the tiled floor so his face is level with your belly-button, which has recently begun to protrude outwards like the rest of you.

He runs his fingers along the surface of your stretched sweater and says quietly, “I just have a hunch that it’s a girl. She’s feisty, like you.” He places a sweet kiss on the top of your belly, then speaks directly to it. “Sorry about the tickling, sweet baby girl. Daddy was just making Mommy laugh to help make her feel better. I have something else that might make her feel better, though.”

“What is it?” you ask.

“Come on, I’ll show you.”

Minho interlocks his fingers with yours and leads you up the stairs — which have become quite the strain on your knees lately — and to the baby’s room.

The moment he pushes open the door, you see exactly what he means. The crib now resembles a crib and not a scattering of wooden pieces strewn around the floor the way they had been for weeks. The inside is lined with blankets and stuffed animals, and the mobile you chose is hanging above it. It could hardly be more picturesque.

With this, the nursery is complete. The painting had been finished a couple months ago, and the other pieces of necessary and decorative furniture have been set in their places for quite some time as well.

“Wow, you actually finished it?” you say. “How did you have time to do that after work today?”

“You were gone for longer than you realize,” he says, chuckling. “I took half the day off to come home and surprise you, but you weren’t here, so I decided to surprise you with this instead.”

“Consider me surprised,” you say with a smile. You squeeze his hand before letting go and walking over to the crib. You give the rail a little shake to test the sturdiness of your husband’s handiwork, and your eyebrows raise in satisfaction at the result.

“I only had to start all over again once,” Minho says proudly, sidling up beside you and gliding a hand along the small of your back to rest on your hip. His thumb traces little circles into it.

“You did a great job,” you say, turning in his hold to wrap your arms around his waist in return, albeit with a bit of difficulty due to your belly getting in the way.

“Glad you like it.” He leans forward to plant a kiss on your forehead, then your nose, then down to your chin, then back up to your mouth. You smile and chase after his lips when he pulls away, and he laughs as he kisses you again. “Come on, let’s sit for a bit and get you off your feet. Dinner and a shower can wait a little while longer.” He moves over to the rocking chair in the corner and takes a seat, then pats his lap invitingly.

“Min, I’ll crush you,” you say with a shake of your head.

He shakes his head right back. “Oh, stop it. No you won’t. You’re not that heavy, and I’m not that fragile.”

He starts beckoning you by stretching his arms out and repeatedly opening and closing his hands. The action is irresistibly cute, so you relent. You toe off your shoes and go to sit on his proposed seat. You try not to rest too much weight on him as you sit on his knee, but he ruins your position by taking your hips and dragging you further up his muscular thigh.

“Put your legs up on me,” he says. “If it’s not too uncomfortable for you, I mean.”

You do as he says and turn sideways to hoist your legs over his other thigh. Minho holds onto your knee with one hand and wraps his other arm behind your back to keep you in place.

“There we go. Is this okay?” he asks.

You shift and wiggle until your back is relatively comfortable. “I think so. Are you okay?”

He smiles and squeezes you reassuringly. “I’ve got my beautiful wife on my lap... we’re sitting right where we’ll be rocking our baby when she — or he — is born... I’d say I’m pretty perfect.”

You take his word for it and sigh in content, leaning into him and resting your head in the crook of his neck. He lays his cheek against your head and pushes his feet off the floor to begin gently rocking the chair as it was intended.

For a few moments, the two of you sit and rock in silence until Minho begins humming softly. Something mellow and baritone. The melody is one you recognize, but the lyrics to that particular song elude you. You’ll ask him about it later. Right now, the vibrations from his throat and the steady thrum of his heartbeat are lulling you peacefully. The faint scent of his cologne and the warmth of his body seep comfortably into your skin.

You tilt your face up to kiss his throat appreciatively for the comfort he is providing. He hums out of tune at your gentle touch, and you kiss him there again. This time you take a bit of his flesh into your mouth with a delicate suck, and he hisses in a short breath. His reaction spurs you to do it again, and then again, until the honey skin is left pink from the teasing.

“Mm, that feels really good, babe,” Minho murmurs. The pet name makes your heart flutter a bit; it was used so frequently at the start of your relationship, but over the years it has become a bit more rare. It makes you feel a little sexy, even in your sweaty, bloated, and achy state.

“Yeah? Should I keep going?” you ask. Your lips ghost over his neck, and your fingers begin trailing down the center of his chest.

“Please.” There is a slight rasp to the syllable that makes you feel proud considering you have barely even done anything to him.

Your fingers find the hems of his sweater and white t-shirt and begin tugging at them. “Do you mind if I take these off?”

“Not at all.” He shrugs out of his cardigan then lifts his arms so you can have the honor of pulling up his shirt to toss it aside. The taut muscles in his chest and abdomen twitch as your fingertips graze them. Before you get to the waistband of his jeans, Minho takes your wandering fingers and stops you.

“Wait,” he says. You look at him curiously. “You said you had a rough day. I should take care of you.”

“Oh? How so?”

“Well, I figured I could start by getting you out of your clothes, and then we can see where things lead.”

Sex with your husband has been infrequent over the course of your thirty-week pregnancy so far, but it has occurred. The doctor assured you there are no complication risks involved, even when this far along. Your pregnancy is perfectly healthy, and sex is not harmful to the baby, so you and Minho are free to continue your normal sex life.

The problem is you don’t always feel up for sex. Between your various aches and the increasing challenge of finding a comfortable position, you sometimes have to wonder if an orgasm is really worth the trouble. But it has been a while since your last release, and you trust Minho to be caring and attentive, so you nod in agreement.

He guides you to stand up from his lap, and you allow him to remove your shirt. The sheen of sweat that has been building for the greater part of the afternoon is made even more apparent when the open air meets it.

“Ugh, I still feel gross,” you mutter under your breath. The inkling of sexiness you felt just moments ago is already gone.

“You don’t look gross,” Minho says. He scans you from head to toe before settling his gaze on your chest. “Will you take your bra off for me, please?”

You hesitate a few seconds, then unhook the restrictive garment and shrug out of it to let it drop to the floor. The moment it is gone, Minho reaches out to grasp your hips and slide his hands up along the expanse of your stomach. His warm, tender touch sends a shiver through you, and the baby begins fidgeting again. Your husband must feel it, too, because he smiles up at you brightly.

“God, how did I get so lucky? You are so beautiful.” His tone carries real sincerity. “Especially with your body like this, carrying our child. You’re so fucking… wonderful.”

You automatically let out an unflattering snort of self-consciousness as you think of the new stretch marks striping your breasts, hips, and stomach. You can’t even bring yourself to look at them right now.

“I mean it. It’s true,” he insists. His eyes drop to your bare stomach to look at what you will not. “It’s amazing how you’re able to grow a baby inside of you, just because I came in you.”

There is laughter in your breathy exhale. “Gee, you make it sound so sexy, Min.”

“But it is sexy. You’re growing hands and feet and… eyes inside your womb right now, this very moment.”

You wrinkle your nose. “That doesn’t sound sexy at all. It sounds scientific.”

“Yeah, but it’s also kind of magical, isn’t it? And just think about it: you’ll be able to feed the baby with your body, too…” Minho folds his bottom lip between his teeth for a second as he studies your chest with great interest. “Just look at these perfect tits, getting all swollen with milk for our baby.”

He starts to squeeze, lift, and massage your breasts reverently, completely undeterred by the stickiness coated on the undersides of them from your sweat. A quiet moan rumbles up from your throat.

Even though he is being gentle, the stimulation is still enough to make your nipples begin discharging a thick fluid that is slightly yellow in color. The sight of it kind of embarrasses you, even though it is completely natural. Your doctor explained that it is the “pre milk” before your body begins producing normal breast milk after the birth.

“Min…” you fret with a nervous giggle. You peel his hands away and take a step back from him.

“It’s okay, babe,” he says. He stands up and rearranges your hands so that he is the one holding yours. “It’s just your body, don’t be ashamed. I told you, you’re beautiful. You’re wonderful. You’re amazing.”

He lifts the heavy mounds on your chest again and presses them together as if to get a better view of the wetness seeping from them. He swipes his thumbs over both of your wet nipples, then casually sticks one of his thumbs in his mouth as if he has done this many times before.

“Mm, tastes sweet,” he says.

“Does it?”

“Yeah. Can I… do you think I could...” He trails off in a puff that sounds like he is the one who’s embarrassed. Eventually, he blurts, “I want to try some more.”

“What, you want to actually… drink it?” you ask. The notion surprises you, and you want to make sure you are understanding him correctly.

“I’d like to try, if you’re comfortable with that. I just want to appreciate your body in every way.”

Minho rolls a sensitive pebble between his thumb and forefinger as he waits for your reply.

After another second, you nod your consent, and he flashes you a toothy smile before he latches his mouth directly onto your nipple. The touch of his soft lips coupled with the tip of his tongue makes you gasp in pleasure. Goosebumps break out over your skin as he suckles delicately. You have to admit the sensation of the fluid flowing from your nipple is oddly satisfying, and the wet suction sound Minho is creating is more than a little erotic. Heat starts to pool between your legs to dampen your panties.

“Is this okay?” he asks you again, peering up at your face as he switches to the other tit. When his tongue takes the nipple in between his lips, you notice it is coated with a milky sheen.

“Yeah, it… it actually feels really good,” you confess. Without consciously choosing to do it, your thighs press together to apply some pressure to your clit. Even with your stomach in the way, Minho’s smirk tells you he does not miss the action.

“Are you wet down there between your legs, too?”

“Yes.”

“Dripping?”

“Mm…”

“I want to feel.”

“Be my guest,” you invite. He goes to slip his hand past the waistband of your pants, but you quickly instruct, “Just take them off.”

He does not need to be told twice. He detaches from your breast and yanks your pants down to your ankles. You steady yourself on his shoulders as you pull your feet free.

“Panties, too,” you add, but his fingers are already hooking into them.

Once they are shed, Minho takes his time running his warm hands back up your calves to your inner thighs, spreading your legs just a little wider than hip-width apart. He wastes no more time in dipping the pads of three fingers along your slit. The slickness he finds there has both of you groaning lowly.

“You are wet. Is this all because I sucked a little milk from your tits?”

A slow smile grows across your face. “Maybe.”

“Should I suck some more?”

“I don’t think there’s much in there at a time yet, honestly,” you tell him rather seriously. “Not until after the baby is born.”

He hums in understanding. “That’s okay, babe. I’ll settle for eating your pussy, if that’s alright,” he says, sinking two knuckles inside you.

“J-Jesus, Min. Y-yeah. Please.”

He grins, drawing his fingers back a little just to shove them in forcefully. “Alright. Have a seat for me,” he says. He removes his fingers from you and slides them into his mouth for the taste of something else. He really does adore all parts of you.

The rocking chair tips backwards when you settle into it, which only improves the access Minho has to your pussy. He makes it even easier for himself, however, by kneeling down and hoisting your legs onto each of his shoulders.

“Is this good?” he asks. He brings his head between your thighs and dots soft kisses along one of them.

You scoot your butt to the very edge of the seat. “Yeah, for now. I’ll let you know if it starts to hurt.”

“Please do,” he agrees at once.

He leans forward and parts your sticky folds with two fingers before dragging his tongue from the bottom of your slit to the top in one slow, firm motion. Your breath hitches in your chest when he buries the pink muscle into your wet hole. He licks in a circle from one pulsing wall to the other and back again, then pulls back and licks his lips.

“Do you want my tongue in you and fingers on your clit, or my tongue on your clit and fingers in you?” he asks. He does not normally require such direct instructions, but he has been so concerned with you in your pregnant state. He wants to make sure he is giving you as much pleasure as possible, and he does not want any room for misunderstanding or disappointment.

“Fingers inside, please,” you say.

Minho fits one finger back inside your pussy, soon followed by a second, and your walls squeeze tightly around the digits to welcome and secure them. Then he flattens his tongue to press it back and forth, up and down over your clit. He builds a steady pace that renders your eyes closed and mouth unhinged to let flow a stream of pleasurable sighs and moans. Your pitch heightens considerably when his fingers hit pay dirt on that spot inside you that always makes your toes curl. When you rock against his face to get all the friction you can, the chair moves with you.

“Shit, this is so hot, babe,” your husband groans from below. “Should’ve eaten you out in a rocking chair a long time ago.”

You start to respond but your words pinch into a squeal from a particularly strong tap against your g-spot with his fingertips, and that seems to be all the answer he could want.

Minho becomes greedy for your unfiltered noises and closes his lips around your clit to suck it the way he sucked your nipples just moments earlier. A shiver tumbles down each rung of your spine, all the way to your clenched toes. Your muscles tense to cope with the sheer intensity of the pleasure being administered to that oh-so-sensitive bundle of nerves between your legs. His fingers work tirelessly to undo you in tandem with his skillful tongue. The crest of your climax is drawing near so soon.

“Oh my god, Min,” you breathe with hardly any sound. “Fuck, you’ve got me so close already.”

He grunts his acknowledgement. “Is this how you want to come, doll? All over my fingers? All over my tongue?”

It is very tempting, but you still decline. “N-no. I want you inside me.”

“I’m already inside you.” He twists his fingers pointedly. “Can you be more specific?”

“You know what I mean,” you groan.

He has to get in a few more swipes of his tongue before he can say, “Yeah, but I want to hear you say it. You can have everything you want if you ask me.”

“I want your c-cock inside me. Now, please.”

Minho makes no move to cease his actions other than to briefly retract his tongue to speak again. “You sure you don’t want me to just keep going? You’re so close.”

“Yes, yes, I’m sure. Please, fuck me already.”

The moan he lets out when he pulls away from you and gets to his feet is positively carnal. He rushes to undo his jeans, then shoves both them and his underwear to the floor in one swoop. You tilt your head to take in the view of his erect cock; the bulbous head is nearly purple from engorgement, and there is a glistening wetness at the slit from a buildup of precum.

“How do you want me?” he asks.

“Let’s try the chair.”

“Do you want to bend over it and I’ll fuck you from behind? Or do you want me to sit down and have you ride me?”

“Sit down and I’ll try riding you.”

You rock yourself up and out of the chair, and Minho takes a firm hold of each of your hands to help tug you to your feet. He kisses you quick and sloppy, giving you a quick taste of your arousal, before switching places with you and taking a seat. His cock points upwards as the perfect target for you to sit on.

You face away from him and straddle his legs to get yourself in position. One of his hands steadies your lowering hips as the other lines his dick up for entry. The tip squeezes into your warm wetness with ease. Minho spreads his legs wider and thrusts up to fit a few more inches of himself. With another shove from him and a bit of wriggling on your part, he bottoms out.

“Fuck, you always feel so fucking good,” he rumbles from behind you. Both of his hands are clenched tightly on your hips now.

You moan in agreement. “So do you.”

Bracing yourself on the arms of the chair, you raise yourself up a couple inches, then sink back down swiftly. Minho plants his feet firmly to keep the chair steady and meet you blow for blow as you start up a rhythm. The two of you grunt and pant with every stroke; the sounds are out of sync, but your movements are not.

The friction feels good, but your looming orgasm from earlier is not quite building again as you had hoped it would. Furthermore, your arms are already beginning to tremble from your efforts.

“Shit,” you swear in frustration. “Maybe this won’t work after all.”

He brings up his earlier suggestion and says, “Want to try bending over?”

“Yeah, okay. Let’s try that.”

His wet dick falls out of you to slap against his stomach when you stand up from his lap. Again, the two of you switch positions so you can lean down and prop your arms along the armrests of the chair. The seat tilts downward as you bend over and press your head against the back of it, and your breasts hang heavy below you. You vaguely notice they have begun to leak again.

Minho steps up behind you and returns his hands to your waist to lift your backside a little higher to expose yourself to him. The head of his cock briefly pokes over your asshole when he guides it into place at your pussy again. With a sigh of satisfaction, he pushes back inside and waits for an extended moment while you to readjust to the tight stretch of his girth.

When you tell him you’re ready, he recreates the rhythm you had started earlier, but at a slightly faster tempo now. Each smack of his tensed thighs against your buttocks makes your breasts bounce — another motion that does not go unnoticed by him.

“God, you’re so fucking hot,” he breathes. One of his hands reaches over to cup one swinging breast and then the other. His fingers toy at your wet nipples once more. “You’re already such a MILF.”

The term makes you burst into surprised laughter. “Oh my god, please do not call me that,” you say.

“Why not?” Minho laughs back. “It’s true. You’re so. Damn. Sexy.” He emphasizes each word with concise, gasp-inducing thrusts. “And motherhood is only going to enhance that.”

“Ungh, right now I just want to come,” you groan, not interested in continuing a conversation at the moment, no matter how flattering. Your body feels heavy, but the coil in you is getting close to snapping again. “Please, Min... please…”

“Oh, you will, doll. I want you to come just as badly.” He pinches your drippy nipple with one hand, maneuvers the other hand around your waist, under your stomach, between your legs to trap your throbbing clit between two fingers. “Want you to come all over this cock.”

“Keep going and I will,” you promise him.

He speeds his hips up until he is hitting your g-spot with every push. He rubs and plays with your clit just the way you like. The steady whapping sound of skin on skin fills the nursery, along with your breathless encouragements for your husband to keep groping, keep pounding, keep going.

“You’re dripping everywhere for me, aren’t you, baby?” he grunts, his breath hot and ragged. “Got your sticky little clit in one hand, and your tit is leaking in my other.”

He is not wrong. Everything is so wet, so hot, so sticky. You whimper and repeatedly push back against him to further increase the friction.

“So fucking filthy,” he goes on, nearly growling. “Makes me want to bust and fill you up with cum. There’s gonna be so fucking much of it.”

His words, combined with a few more sweeps of his fingers over your clit and stabs of his cockhead against the sweetest part of you, burst you straight through the roof of your climax. With a whiny, broken moan, your pussy clamps him tightly, and it is not more than four of five more strokes before he joins you in sheer bliss. He seizes and grunts deeply as his cum shoots out of his twitching cock to meet the resistance of your already-occupied womb. He was right — there is a lot of it. The viscous white fluid oozes out of you and down along your thighs before the spurts have even finished trickling out of him.

Both pairs of legs between the two of you are shaky as Minho pulls out of your swollen pussy with a slick squelch. He helps straighten your body and pulls you into an adoring hug as you both regain your lost breath. His sweaty chest is nearly as damp as yours as it heaves against your back. You can feel his heart racing.

“You alright, doll?” he checks while dotting sweet kisses along your shoulder. “Was that good?”

“Very good,” you pant with a blissed smile. You turn your head to the side and pucker your mouth for a kiss. Your lower belly is cramping from the intensity of your orgasm, and you massage it absently as Minho’s lips envelop yours. His fingers bump yours as he, too, goes to cradle your stomach.

“How’s our little princess?” he asks next.

“Fine,” you answer. You kiss him deeply and whisper against his mouth: “We’re both just fine, thanks to the daddy.”

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#lee know smut #minho smut #lee minho smut #stray kids smut #skz smut #lee know x reader #minho x reader #lee minho x reader #stray kids x reader #skz x reader #wondrous #daizymax

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iguessthisisanewobsession · 1 year

Text

Ghostwriter was really asking for soup time at this point.

He had apologized for his first Christmas truce before, last year he even convinced Clockwork to help him make a copy of the original work he had ruined.

So why in god’s gracious earth did he wake up to Amity Park being in a hallmark movie.

Danny glared as the people milled about the center of town like they haven’t since the portal opening.

It was unnerving, the only thing really missing from the equation was some out of town love interest or something.

“Hey, excuse me.”

Tall and built with black hair and blue eyes.

Oh you got to be-

~~~~~~~~~~~

Dick tried to make himself look more charming as the guy he approached turned around.

When he heard that the justice league were getting concerning calls about a town In Illinois, he saw an out from the Christmas gala.

Sure Dick enjoyed the season, but the fact that he has to spend a large amount of the winter season putting up a front as the perfect firstborn was not something he wanted to do unless he had to.

That being said, the town was a bit unnerving. He hadn’t seen anything supernatural per say but the constant cheer is something he had only ever seen on the silver screen of his home. He had tried to approach several different people only to be met with seasons greetings and promptly ignored when as they ran off to do whatever small towns do for the holidays.

This guy at least wasn’t plastering a smile on his face.

“Hey, excuse me I’m new in town and looking around, my name is-“

“Let me guess, Rupert or Orlando or some shit.”

“What?”

“Well it has to be pompous and annoying. It’s kind of a trend and shit last time I checked.”

“I have no clue what you’re talking about man I just wanted to ask-“

The man snorted as he left, throwing over his shoulder with a large amount of snark,

“For a tour around town? A place to stay? A friendly face? Sorry man, man but I’m not interested. The town square is full, ask someone else I have a date with a caffeine addiction.”

Dick watched a bit stupefied as the guy weaves into the ground and out of his eyesight.

“Well he seemed charming.”

Dick raised his phone to the earpiece and sighed,

“Yeah well, he’s the first person who didn’t sound like they weren’t on a script so far. I didn’t even know that midwesterners took Christmas so seriously. How long until you reach town Jay?”

I’m reaching midtown just about now. It looks like Santa took a shit on every-“

There was a sudden squeal of tires as the line cut.

Oh no.

~~~~~~~~~~

Jason gasped as he tried to calm his breath glancing at the guy he almost hit on his bike.

Jesus Christ that was close.

“Shit man are you alright?”

“Peachy. Always liked pancakes and all that.”

~~~~~~~

Danny felt a blush hit him as the behemoth of a guy let out a snort. It was embarrassing that he didn’t notice the guy until he almost became a smear, the dude was built like a tank and wearing a red helmet.

“I shouldn’t’ve taken that turn that quickly.. sometimes forget I’m not at home.”

“Oh yeah? Where’s home for you?”

“Gotham if you believe that.”

“Explains why you drive like you’re chased by death.”

“You have no idea..”

He took off his helmet with another snort and shake of the head. A white wisp in a sea of black shook out while mirthful blue eyes met his.

Crap..

“Name’s Jason. You are?”

“Nunya,”

The guy raised a brow mildly confused.

“Pardon?”

“Nunyabusinessbye!”

Danny took off before he was done with the sentence. He could feel eyes on his retreat for the second time today.

‘Jesus, smooth recovery Fenton.’

~~~~~~~~

Tim rubbed his eyes as he listened to his older brothers bicker over the coms.

He couldn’t understand the issue with the surveillance! All the cameras and mics are properly functioning but for some reason everything is corrupted and it’s driving Tim up a wall!

A break, Tim needed a break from this Airbnb and something caffeinated.

~~~~~~~~

‘Just ten minutes, ten minutes and he could get his drink, he could rant to his friends on the group chat afterwards and wait out the story. ‘

And with as much bravo as any tired young adult, he entered the shop.

Danny almost left the cafe as he heard another unfamiliar voice bellow out.

“What do you mean you don’t have coffee, it’s a coffee shop!”

Blue eyes, black hair, surprisingly smaller than the first two and eye bags that could rival Danny some nights.

Danny was done.

Fuck the treaty this was war.

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peachdues · 10 months

Text

Red Dress

Kyojuro x F!Reader (NSFW)

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Come get your food, you filthy animals.

Based on #5 of @delusionisaplace’s NSFW prompts, and as requested by @stuckinthewrongworld .

CW: highly NSFW • Possessive/slightly dom!Kyojuro • bathroom fucking • fucking raw • cre@ mpie! • modern AU I guess? • MDNI or I block you.

NSFW below!

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There was nothing quite as filthy as Kyojuro’s mouth when he was buried within her.

“Fuck, Y/N,” his groans were rough, just like the slap of his hips against the underside of her ass. “Your pussy is so fucking wet for me.”

Y/N could do nothing but press her lips into the corded muscle of Kyojuro’s shoulder in a failing attempt to stifle the cries and whimpers he tried to pull from her with every bruising thrust of his fat cock, as he fucked her on the counter of his father’s guest bathroom.

“We’re going to get caught,” Y/N whined, though she couldn’t fathom him stopping now — not when he kept hitting that spot within her that made her see stars.

“Then at least he’ll know who you belong to,” Kyojuro grunted. His teeth sank into the side of her neck as one hand left her waist to roughly squeeze her breast, spilling out over the top of the pretty sundress he’d yanked down to her waist.

Y/N had known she was treading on thin ice the moment she emerged from their shared bedroom at their apartment, wearing that scarlet sundress that hugged every one of her luscious curves. She’d seen the way her fiancé’s eyes had narrowed in on the delicate swell of her breasts as they peaked over the low neckline. And she’d not missed how his lips parted at the smooth length of her bare legs as she’d advanced towards him with a chipper “I’m ready!”

But she hadn’t been the only one who’d noticed the way the Elder Rengoku’s eyes roved over her cleavage, or how his hand had lingered on her waist as she hugged him in greeting as they gathered for their monthly dinner with Kyojuro’s father and brother.

Evidently, the whole interaction had bothered her sweet-tempered fiancé far more than he’d let on.

Kyojuro slammed sharply into her, his hands digging into her lower back in an effort to keep her upright. “Who would’ve thought my sweet, little Y/N would love being fucked like a whore in a bathroom, hm?”

“K-Kyojuro,” Y/N moaned in his ear, prompting a low growl from her fiancé’s throat.

“Is that why you wore this dress?” Her fiery lover taunted, moving his hands to Y/N’s inner thighs to spread her wide for him. “You wanted me to fuck you, didn’t you?”

Kyojuro pushed her leg up so that her foot rested flat against the pristine limestone of the bathroom sink, allowing himself to pound deeper into her. Before long, the lewd sound of her squelching cunt began to echo with every thrust of his aching length.

“You could’ve just asked,” Kyojuro crooned, savoring the way his words made his beautiful lover’s intoxicating cunt gush around him. “But you’re so fucking needy, my flame,”

“B-bold words from someone who, ha, whimpered to let me let him come last night — oh.”

Y/N’s head fell back as Kyojuro began to grind into her, the coarse base of his groin rubbing deliciously against her sensitive clit as he pressed an open-mouthed kiss against her neck.

“You think you could just prance around in this little dress and not expect me to claim what’s mine?” Kyojuro chuckled darkly in her ear as he dragged his hands tantalizingly up her waist, the force of his thrusts increasing. “Come, Y/N. You know better.”

She did. And that was precisely why she’d chosen to wear that dress — though to be fair, Y/N hadn’t counted on his father showing any interest. She’d only been interested in driving her fiancé wild with need.

And as Kyojuro pressed her tighter against him, ramming himself into her as though she needed to be reminded of who precisely was capable of bringing her to utter ruin, Y/N knew she’d been successful.

She felt the familiar heat of release begin to gather in her belly, and she bucked her hips wildly against his, desperate to seek out her pleasure. Kyojuro moaned as she met his thrusts, his hands digging into her skin.

“That’s it, my flame — fuck,” Kyojuro grit his teeth as he felt Y/N’s hot, silken walls begin to flutter around him. He wound his hand between their bodies, his thumb furiously working her clit as he brought her closer to the edge.

Y/N moved her hand to press against her mouth, not wanting to debase herself further by crying out at the way Kyojuro was fucking her within an inch of her life, but his warm hand caught her wrist before she could do so.

“Don’t you dare,” he snarled in her ear, pushing her legs so far apart it was borderline painful. “I want to hear every-fucking-sound,” he emphasized his final three words with perfectly brutal thrusts, and Y/N felt her body turn to jelly.

“Kyojuro — I’m close,” she whimpered, her legs straining to close around her fiancé’s hips, but his hold on her was unmatched. “I-,”

A knock on the bathroom door cut her off, and the couple looked at each other with wide eyes, Kyojuro’s hips stuttering unevenly.

“Um, brother?” Senjuro’s uncertain voice was just on the other side of the door. Y/N began to squirm beneath her fiancé as she desperately tried to push him away, to avoid any humiliation at being caught. “Is everything alright?”

Kyojuro paid Y/N’s weak attempts to bat him away little mind, resuming the relentless propulsion of his cock into her sopping, needy heat. Y/N whimpered against him as she felt the cord in her stomach begin to re-tighten with every drag of his demanding length against her inner walls.

She nearly yelped as Kyojuro leaned forward and grazed his teeth along the shell of her ear.

“Come. Now.” He hissed, and Y/N obeyed, her mouth falling open in a silent scream as her fiancé slid two fingers into her mouth, stifling any sound that threatened to tear from her throat as her cunt seized around him.

“Not to worry, Senjuro!” Kyojuro called jovially to his brother, though his eyes were fixed on the way Y/N’s mouth worked his fingers, darkening as her tongue grazed the side of them. “Y/N just needed help zipping her dress up!”

Had Y/N not been riding the waves of her fierce orgasm, she would’ve rolled her eyes, but they were too busy staring at the back of her skull as Kyojuro continued to pound wetly into her, her tongue wantonly massaging his fingers.

“Okay,” Senjuro sounded uncertain. “Well, Dad said dinner’s almost ready.”

Kyojuro grimaced, wanting, for once, for his beloved little brother to go away, because Kyojuro was dangerously close to losing control with the way Y/N’s cunt continued to milk him.

“We‘ll be right down!” Was Kyojuro’s only reply, his jaw clenching tightly as Y/N’s orgasm finally subsided, and she slumped in his arms.

As Senjuro’s feet softly padded away from the bathroom, Kyojuro finally resumed his sharp thrusts into the mewling woman beneath him.

“My turn.” He promised severely.

Kyojuro partially yanked Y/N from where he’d pinned her on the counter, bringing her lower hips down so that only her upper back remained flat against the cold marble. She wound her legs around Kyojuro’s hips as her fiancé leaned forward to close his mouth firmly around her breast, and she knew his release was imminent.

“God, you feel so fucking good,” Kyojuro growled against her sternum, his fingers digging into the plush of her ass. “And you’re all mine.”

He swiveled his hips against hers on the next push of his cock into her spent cunt, and Y/N felt her eyes roll back in her head. She couldn’t imagine that anyone would buy the tale Kyojuro had spun about her needing help with her dress, but she was far too fucked out of her mind to care, especially given the way he was tugging her nipple into his hot mouth, swirling his tongue over the sensitive bud.

“Say it,” he ground against her breast, his thrusts growing more sloppy with every passing second. “Tell me who you belong to,”

Y/N could barely find her voice, her mind far too clouded by her pleasure. But she squeaked, however, when she felt her fiancé’s calloused thumb press against her abused clit in annoyance.

“You!” She gasped out, tears of overstimulation gathering in the corners of her eyes. “I belong to you, Kyojuro!”

The blonde’s hips stuttered against her, and Y/N felt Kyojuro’s teeth sink into the delicate skin of her breast to silence his groan, deep and guttural, as his seed shot into her, hot and thick.

Y/N came again as she felt Kyojuro’s pleasure fill her, loving the way he made her feel both dirty and sacred each time he finished inside her.

Her fervent lover let out a breathy “Fuck,” as he rolled his hips against her one final time before stilling, lifting his head to press a sweet kiss against her neck and then again to her lips.

“Now that we’ve cleared that all up,” he said cheekily, withdrawing from her heat. Y/N winced at the sudden loss, but Kyojuro rubbed soothing circles into her thighs as they trembled beneath her.

Kyojuro tucked himself back into his pants, the metal clasp of his belt clinking as he refastened it around his hips. Despite his smug countenance, Kyojuro pressed a sweet kiss against Y/N’s forehead, his hand coming to her face to caress her.

“Turn around for me,” he said softly, warm hands spinning her gently so that she could brace herself against the counter as she came down from her high. “Let me help clean you up.”

Y/N nodded shakily as she rest her head against her arms, cheeks flushed and her breath uneven. Behind her, she heard Kyojuro tear a wad of toilet paper off the hook near the toilet, and felt him squat down behind her, gentle fingers pushing the hem of her dress away so he could wipe the evidence of his desire from where it leaked down her thighs.

But Kyojuro only ran his finger through one small droplet as it escaped down her leg, smearing it against her skin.

Y/N’s eyes flew open as she felt her lover guide her legs back into the shorts she’d worn under her dress, and began to pull them back on her, his fluid still trickling out of her.

“K-Kyo!” Y/N hissed as her Kyojuro tugged her shorts back up her legs. “I need to clean myself up! You made a mess!”

But her fiancé only spun her back to face him, his mouth slanting over hers in a bruising, demanding kiss. “You made the mess, my flame,” he clarified, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “So you must deal with it.”

With a quick peck to her lips and a naughty wink, Kyojuro breezed out of the bathroom. Y/N gaped at the closed bathroom door as she heard the sounds of his booming, cheerful voice greeting his father and brother downstairs.

She looked back at her reflection in the mirror and groaned at the state of her hair, at the way her lips were red and kiss-swollen. Turning on the tap, she dampened her hands and ran them through her tousled tresses, attempting to smooth them out so that she didn’t look completely fucked through by the time she returned to the Rengoku family below.

Y/N waited another two minutes before exiting the bathroom after him to return to the dinner table, her fiancé’s seed pooling in her shorts.

She vowed to get him back once they returned home.

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#demon slayer #rengoku kyojuro #kimetsu no yaiba #kyojuro rengoku #kny #kny x reader #kny fanfic #kimetsu no yaiba rengoku #kny rengoku #rengoku kyojuro x reader #kyojuro x y/n #kyojurou #kyojuro rengoku x reader #rengoku kyōjurō #demon slayer rengoku #rengoku x y/n #kimetsu rengoku #kimetsu kyojuro #kyojuro

2K notes · View notes

myfictionaldreams · 8 months

Text

Day 2: Roleplay - Ghostface!Steve Harrington

Summary: It had been your idea to dress up for Halloween as characters from Scream but what happens when you forget it’s Steve under the mask.

Tags: 18+ readers only, smut, consensual non-consent (CNC), roleplay, fear play, mask kink, being chased, discussion of safe words, groping, fingering, edging, hair pulling, rough sex, hand over mouth, creampie

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“I think I'm getting old”, came the frustrated grumble from your tired, fussy boyfriend Steve Harrington. His words weren’t boisterous as he muttered them under his breath, rubbing the back of his neck and staring down at the costume laid out for him on the bed.

Not reacting to him immediately, you continue applying the eyeshadow to your eyelid, smiling as you peeked at him in the mirror, his hands resting on his hips. Biting your lip to refrain from grinning or laughing, you innocently asked, “Why’s that Stevie?”

“Because I don’t want to go to this stupid party! I just wanna stay in and watch movies”. Steve began running his fingers through his recently washed hair, the ends curling gently over the tips of his shoulders but fluffy in texture as he had yet to style it with spray and gel.

You placed your brush on the dressing table and gave him your full attention in the mirror's reflection. “It's not a stupid party; it’s a Halloween party! There’s a difference”, you say enthusiastically to try and perk up his spirits. Steve continued to look down at the bed, only raising an eyebrow in a half-ass attempt at showing his excitement, so you turned on your stool, facing directly towards him. Sighing forcefully, you stood and approached with long, sweeping steps. “Come on! It’s only this one party, and then we can stay in for the rest of the year!” Trying to use all your manipulative tactics to sweeten him up. Fluttering your eyelashes up at him, your arms circled his waist, lifting his strong arms to settle over your shoulders.

Steve finally managed to tear his gaze away from the costume and towards you, but only so he could dramatically pout out his full bottom lip, his long, thick eyelashes curling up and nearly stroking his eyebrows as you melted into his warm coffee-coloured eyes. He was so handsome, and he didn’t even have to try.

Your nimble fingers slid beneath his shirt to feel the soft skin of his hips as you continued to try and elevate his excitement, “It’ll be fine, Steve, I promise”. Lifting onto your tiptoes, you captured his pouted lips with a brief, sweet kiss.

“It’s just not the same as they used to be. Are you sure you don’t want me to drive us there so it’ll save us some time to get back home again?” Steve asked as his hands smoothed over your bare shoulders, pulling you flush against his body and his warmth seeping into your skin.

You pulled away a step to give him a deadpan look, “It’s only a block away. I’m sure you’ll survive, and anyway, if you hate it, we can leave at any point”.

“Promise?”

“I promise, but we are still going. I’ve spent way too much money on the costumes to let them go to waste”, you explain whilst pulling out of his hold and sitting back in front of the mirror to continue finishing your makeup.

Steve’s attention returned to his costume, picking up the black cloak and white mask and holding it out in front of him. “Ok, I can take a quick guess as to who I’m dressing up as, but who are you supposed to be?”

You were still in your underwear, but to show him who you meant, you quickly flicked on the shoulder-length blonde wig and turned to him. “I’m Casey Becker, you know, Drew Barrymore, the girl that got killed at the start of Scream. I’m her after your Ghostface character kills me”, you explain whilst pointing to the wool cream jumper covered in splotches of deep red fake blood to match the stains on your neck and chest.

“Right”, Steve mutters before chewing on his lip, fingers once more returning to stroke through his hair before he reluctantly moves to the bathroom to continue getting ready, costume in hand.

You smiled triumphantly to yourself and continued getting ready, dressed in the simple jeans and once-cream jumper now decorated with fake stab wounds.

Waiting impatiently for Steve, with your arms crossed and foot tapping on the floor, you gently knocked on the bathroom door, asking, “You ready in there, Ghostface?”

As if he was waiting for you, the door swung open almost immediately, making you jump back on instinct, but the sight before you caused a deep warmth to flush through your body. The white scream mask was resting on the top of his head, pushing his hair out of his eyes so you could still see his face, but seeing Steve in the black cloak was doing something erotic to your body; you knew this outfit would be the right decision.

Steve's mouth opened as if he was going to say something, but he noticed how you shifted your weight from one foot to another, watching your eyes unfocus as they travelled up the length of his lean body, and he knew that you were becoming aroused. Confidence pumped through his veins as his spine straightened so he could pump his chest out slightly before casually leaning against the door frame, his ankle crossed over the other.

“Let me guess, you’re into this? You little freak”, he trailed off as he visually inspected your costume. Even though it wasn’t revealing anyway, his pupils expanded as he bit his lip hungrily.

Blinking quickly and shaking your head, you tried to snap your attention back to him and not all of the nasty thoughts of him wearing this costume whilst pleasuring you. Glancing away from him, you tried to remain casual and calm, “I don’t know what you mean, Harrington. Come on, let’s go, we’re already late”.

The two of you walked in the moonlight, the streetlights blinking from being faulty, but that didn’t stop the two of you from swinging your clasped hands between your bodies. Steve still had his mask pushed up onto his head so that he could watch his step and still look towards you and his vision not be distorted.

“So what is it that you like? Is it the violence? The costume? The evilness? The murder”, he extended the last word as he dipped his face and knocked his forehead against your cheek as you pushed him away laughing.

You didn’t answer him, but he was sure to have noticed how warm your face was and the unsubtle looks you were giving him from the corner of your eye. To be frank, you were near enough drooling over him in the slash killer costume. You weren’t sure what it was; maybe you were falling into the fantasy, knowing the character was a psycho killer but had your beautiful boyfriend's face, knowing he wouldn’t hurt you but still looked scary and murderous.

Steve continued talking, not phased by your silence, “Maybe I should wear this costume when we get home, especially as it’s getting you so hot and bothered. I haven’t seen you like this since I was in my scoops ahoy sailors outfit”. His sizeable, warm hand squeezed yours to show he was teasing as his shoulder bumped into yours.

“Will you stop it? We’re nearly there, and then you can go and annoy someone else”, you say matter-of-factly.

Steve scoffs, “Why would I want to do that when I seem to be doing such a good job of annoying you?”. Without missing a beat, he released your hand, but only so he could wrap his arms around your waist to spin you around on the spot, causing you to scream out and kick your legs to try and make him put you down.

“Steve, stop!” you laughed despite the harshness of your tone. Thankfully, when he finally placed you back onto your two feet, he kissed your lips, then returned to holding your hand and tugging you along for the rest of the journey towards the party.

Once the two of you had arrived, he kept his mask down, which was where you became even more confused and momentarily forgot that it was Steve and not a random guy. Especially as he kept quietly stalking up next to you, and after a few times of you jumping in freight, he found his new favourite game for the night; the drinking and the dancing were not his priority with his plans for the night.

Steve even managed to sneak into the bathroom as he overheard you saying to Robin that you were about to go and use it. He hid behind the shower curtain, waiting for you to use the toilet before sliding behind your warm body as you washed your hands, his hands caging around you, forcing your hips into the countertop.

You screamed in fright as his mask hovered close to the shell of your ear. “What’s your favourite scary movie?” he asked, trying to use a low voice to copy the movie.

For a second, you forgot it was Steve, the thumping from your heart showing your anxiety until it all returned to you. Glaring at him in the mirror whilst clutching your chest, you chastised him, “Steve! You scared the fucking shit out of me, stop doing that!”

Steve only laughed at your reaction, loosening his hold around you enough that you could turn in his arms and push up his mask to see his hair wet from sweat sticking to his forehead and a broad smile across his handsome face.

“Sorry baby, I didn’t mean to scare you; it’s only me! Anyway, I don’t know why you keep freaking out; you’re the one who wanted me to wear this outfit”.

You were about to continue telling him off when he cut you off with a simple press of his lips against yours, lingering for a second and capturing your breath before pulling away, his lids heavy as he stared at the area where you were both just connected. He always knew how to win you around again, and you instantly found yourself forgiving him for the jump scare.

Gently you shoved his chest before gripping a handful of the black cloak, mumbling, “Asshole, I thought we were supposed to be a team”.

Steve’s gloved fingers tipped your chin so you’re forced to look up at him as he gave you a condescending head tilt. “Aww, you don’t have to be scared of me, Princess. I won’t hurt you. Unless that’s what you want, hmm?” his voice lowered as he pushed his body further against yours, his chest brushing against yours as his face dropped closer. He was so close that you could smell the beer on his breath, and you were entirely ready to fall into whatever he had planned, which, with the look he was giving you, was something naughty.

However, all of your hopes and dreams for having a quick fuck were destroyed as Steve dramatically bellowed, “Maybe I’ll gut you like a fish! Blah”, he began to act out, stabbing your stomach with the retractable plastic knife that was a part of the costume.

A heavy sigh left your mouth as you rolled your eyes, pushing past him as he pretended blood was spurting out of your middle, mimicking actions and being his usual goofy self. Usually, you’d be laughing with him. Still, damn, you were distracted and highly hopeful for the other things you had planned, slightly disappointed that he hadn’t gone through with them, especially as you were only seconds away from sinking to your knees and submitting to him.

The party continued for a few more hours, and Steve was more than ready to leave; having stopped drinking at midnight, he was getting to the end of his social battery. You were, too, so the two of you, thankfully, exited the silent streets hand in hand. You looked significantly different from when you’d arrived; the wig was missing as others had been trying it on, and now, it had disappeared, and the make-up and fake blood had mostly sweated off from your brief stints of dancing.

On the other hand, Steve still looked effortlessly beautiful, with his outfit still looking the same, but you were sure he must have been sweating under the thick, dark material.

Halfway home, your steps were abruptly halted as Steve stopped, patting over his clothes, looking for something, and cursing loudly when he couldn’t find it. “Shit, fuck! I left the keys at the party!”

“What! Steve, I’m not walking back there. Why did you even take them out of your pocket?!” you rub your tired eyes, frustrated and adamant that you wouldn’t walk the small distance back to the party.

Steve gave you an apologetic smile, and his lips pressed together firmly. “I’m sorry, babe, I’ll only be a minute; just wait here.” He turned and began jogging back to the party, around the corner and out of your sight.

Standing in the quiet Halloween night, the chill from the autumnal breeze ran more profound than just your skin as you became instantly unnerved by being on your own as the streetlamp at the end of the street continued to flick on and off. Rubbing your hands up and down your arms to try and keep yourself warm, you quietly whispered to yourself for Steve to hurry up, wanting nothing more than to be in bed with his arms wrapped around you.

“Come on, Stevie”, you pleaded under your breath, the warmth of it fogging in the air in front of your face. Dancing on the spot slightly, you moved your numbing fingers down your sides to slide them into your back pockets to steal some heat, but then they were interrupted by the cool metal of your door keys. “Shit!” you fumed, not remembering that you’d had the keys on you the entire time, and Steve didn’t forget them and had made a wasted trip.

Staring in the direction he’d left again, you internally cursed yourself, knowing that Steve would return pissed off and irritable with you. Deciding that it would probably save some time if you also returned to the party to find Steve, you took a single step back down the street, but a branch crack splintered through the air. Your head twisted toward the noise, but all you could see were twisting, endless shadows that even the occasional flash of the street light couldn’t illuminate.

Taking a deep breath to try and steady the nerves that were tremouring through your body, enough so that you clasped your fingers together to see if that would cease the movements. Maybe you were paranoid, but you could have sworn someone was watching. You wouldn’t even say it was paranoia anymore as you were sure someone was watching because the hairs along your arms and the back of your neck stood on end.

MybMaybe was just some drunken kids from the party or someone in one of the homes that lined the streets looking out of the window to see who was standing on the sidewalk. However, you couldn’t spot any curtains opening or see any drunken person stumbling with their steps.

You weren’t sure what to do; usually, when you felt uncomfortable or frightened, you would be with Steve, and he’d do anything to pull you out of the situation. You could run back to your home, but then you’d be there all by yourself, and then what would happen when Steve left the party to find that you weren’t waiting for him anymore? Maybe you could go back towards the party and meet Steve, but that also meant you’d be walking past the area where the loud noise had come from.

“Is anyone there?!” you shouted in the general direction of the noise, hoping it would draw people's attention or frighten off whoever was there.

“Don’t you watch scary movies? You’re never supposed to shout who’s there”. Out of the shadows creeped Ghostface, his mask down and the plastic knife in his gloved hand at his side.

Thankfully, for once, due to your body being on high alert, you instantly remembered that this was Steve and not a stranger and recognised his voice, which had been challenging to do at the party.

Clutching your chest, you sucked in a greedy breath, “Steve! You fucking scared me. Why the hell would you do that?” Steve didn’t respond. He just casually strolled forward, almost swaggering with his steps, masked head tilted slightly. Trying to calm your pounding heart, you nervously pulled the keys out of your back pocket to show him, I’ve got the keys. I’m sorry, I didn’t even know I had them in my jeans pockets”. You rambled on, the nerves continuing to take over your body as he didn’t say anything, just taking step after step towards you.

The keys in your hand rattled from your shakes, and finally, instinct took over as you took a giant step backwards, away from Steve. Your thoughts were all over the place. This was Steve; you could tell by the height and build, and it had been his voice that had spoken/ However, the way he was walking towards you like he was searching for his prey, his next victim, the thrill of it all gave you the wrong reaction, despite your fear, you were getting turned on by it.

Warmth bloomed in the apples of your cheeks that spread through your chest and deep into your abdomen, nipples pebbling beneath your jumper and rubbing against the inside of your bra. With each step that Steve took forward, you’d take one backwards, a game of cat and mouse ensuring.

A moment of silence passed, the two of you just staring at one another, until he lifted his fake knife and your eyes were drawn to this as he drawled, “Aren’t you going to run, Princess?”

It was an automatic response, the flight or fight intuition kicking in as you immediately ran. You ran like there was an actual killer after you, adrenaline and fear pulsing through your veins that helped keep your instincts on high alert as you ran toward your home. Even though your home wasn’t far away, it still felt like an eternity of running, the muscles straining and chest burning from sucking cold air desperately as you finally collided with your front door.

You’d been unable to hear Steve close behind you, but you didn’t waste any time, fingers trembling as you pressed the key into the lock and turned, rushing inside, slamming the door closed, and flicking the lock.

You waited, listening and waiting for him to bang on the door, but only silence greeted you from outside and the thumping of your terrified heart and heavy breaths in your ear. Steve didn’t turn up; even as you looked through the door's peephole, he still wasn’t there, so you took a few steps away, frowning in confusion.

Then it dawned on you. The back door. The back door, where Steve knew where the keys were hidden in the plant pot.

Spinning quickly, your sneakers squeaked on the hardwood floor as you’d intended to run to the back door to check it was still closed, but a prominent dark figure blocked your route. Once again, you knew it was Steve, even from how he was breathing heavily, the outline of his broader form and the faint smell of his aftershave that you could smell now that he was closer.

You weren’t entirely sure how far he wanted to go with this playing around, but you were not going to ruin the moment and willing to see just what Steve had in mind.

Taking a shaky step backwards away from the figure, you lifted your hands, palms up in defeat. “My boyfriend will be home soon, and he’s big; he’ll kick your ass”, your voice wobbled, which was half put on by you but also a little bit truthful with the anticipation.

Ghostface chuckled lowly, his head tilting, and the dominance and lure of the sight had your insides clenching with need.

“Oh, your boyfriend won’t be helping you tonight. No one will”, Steve stated confidently and didn’t give you any warning before he bolted forward. The rush caused you to jump and scream, turning and running in the opposite direction, but it was a useless attempt as his arms wrapped around your waist, pushing forward until you were flush against the wall, his chest hard against your back. You struggled and whimpered in his hold, trying to sound as desperate as possible, but Steve held firm but not enough to hurt.

The mark was next to your ear as he growled, “Now, where do you think you’re going, huh? I thought we could have some fun. What do you say?” You struggled against but mostly so you could grind your ass against his hips, showing him you wanted to keep playing.

However, your lack of words had your boyfriend freezing, the tone of his voice softening as he whispered, “Colour?”

Huffing out a laugh at his concern and momentary slip of the roleplay, you whispered against the wall, “Very fucking green”. You found it endearing that he still ensured you were okay and wanted to continue.

That seemed to be the last of the friendly acts, however, as Steve pushed harder against your body until your cheek was firm against the cool wallpapered wall, the plastic of his mask against the back of your neck. His gloved hands shifted lower over the front of your body, over the mounds of your breasts, your jumper-covered navel and past your hips until he was cupping your jean-covered cunt with a deep moan that rumbled against your back.

It was an automatic response to mewl and rolled your hips into the hold, feeling the pressure from your underwear digging into your clit but needing more. Your noises turned back into whimpers as his fingers quickly snapped over the button of your jeans, and his hand disappeared beneath the material until he was cupping you again, but this time directly to your skin. You pulled your hips away this time, but primarily because of the uncomfortable material; his gloves were cheap synthetic material and were rough against your sensitive, throbbing clit as his palm pressed against it.

Steve chuckled, the tips of his index and middle finger close to your entrance, and for a moment, you were worried he was going to finger you with the rough material; you weren’t sure it would feel nice, but this wasn’t what he was laughing at. “You’re such a desperate little thing aren’t you? I can feel how wet you are through the gloves”.

Your entire body warmed in embarrassment. You should have guessed that he would have felt how turned on you are, especially with how you could feel the slick gathered in your underwear, but you hadn’t considered him feeling it through the gloves.

Ghostface, always the one to tease and humiliate, then did something that had your gasps turning into surprise and shock. The pressure of his glove hand disappeared from between your legs, and from your position, you could see it disappear beneath his mask, where a sucking noise could then be heard as he devoured the juices from the fabric gloves.

“S-St-“ his name was on the tip of your tongue, mostly on instinct to submit to him by moaning his name, but you were also cut off by a deep, gravely groan as the man trapping you against the wall showed you just how much he loved your taste. His hips rolled against your lower back first, thrusting his clothed but painfully hard cock into you, then his hand reappeared from beneath the mask, but this time without the glove as he’d pulled it off with his teeth and dropped onto the floor.

“Why is it you always taste so much better when you’re scared?” he continues to taunt, and you knew it wasn’t a normal reaction, but your pussy clenched so hard that Ghostface had to wait a moment before he was able to push his fingers back into your underwear and his middle and ring finger penetrated your eagerly awaiting hole.

You rose onto your tip toes whilst attempting to back into him to rub yourself against him, but he held you firmly against the wall. His fingers did not waste any time either as they gathered the slick to coat the entire length of his two digits and pumped in and out with a slight curl as he pulled out.

Once more, it was on instinct that your hips were rocking to match his movements, pleasuring pounding into your core as your eyes closed, whimpers slipping from your parted lips that you wouldn’t be able to hold back even if you tried to What’s more the position was adding to the thrill, your hands sprayed and pressed against the cool wall, your cheek aching from the pressure of being pushed forward and the warm body surrounding your entire back with the plastic part of his masks against the back of your head as he rested his temple against you, watching and listening to every little noise that he caused you to make.

Ghostface doesn’t stop pleasuring you, his fingers continuing to pump into you as his palm occasionally pressed firmly against your clit, adding more stimulation. You were a sopping wet mess that could feel that familiar tightening between your legs. Where his fingers curled, and strokes began to harden as your orgasm tingled on the very edge; just one or two more movements and you’d be right there.

But Ghostface knew you were getting to that point, could hear and see how close you were, and he wasn’t having that, not yet anyway, so he swiftly pulled his hand out of your underwear.

“Uh uh, I don’t think so. Did you really think I’d let you cum? Definitely not; where would be the fun in that?” he laughs to emphasise his mocking, making you feel degraded and mind-muddled from needing him to continue pleasuring you but also wanting to push him away so he could stop being so mean.

With your minimal room, you tried to force your elbow into his stomach, but he could already sense your move and began sharply tugging on your hair with his still-wet fingers. His other arm circled your middle, helping with his grip and plan to move you away from the wall. Due to his taller size, he could easily manipulate you to walk in the direction of the kitchen; both of you can only walk without hitting any furniture due to muscle memory and the thin slither of light streaking through the blinds from the blinking street light.

Breath rushed out of you as Ghostface pushed you over your wooden table, your hands and face again pressed against the surface. You were dazed from the fingering, so you didn’t immediately react when he roughly pulled down your jeans and underwear until they were discarded somewhere in the darkness. In actuality, you sighed in relief from having the air breeze over your aching cunt and only responded with your own needs as your hips wiggled enticingly towards the man behind you.

This was rewarded with a sharp smack to your left arse cheek, halting any fuzzy happiness you’d been wrapped in. A leg shifted between your legs, shifting them further apart as the sound of clothes shuffling was heard from behind you as Ghostface began to lift his cloak and bunch it around his hips.

You weren’t able to see him correctly over your shoulder, but your pussy clenched with anticipation, especially as you were only able to see the mask. It still scared you, but knowing it was Steve only made you back up into him until his cock was suddenly being thrust between your arse cheeks.

“Careful now, Princess, don’t want to be stabbed with something now, do we?” Ghostface chuckled right before he slipped his cock, inch after inch, into your pulsing hole. He wasn’t slow; he moved with intent, wanting it to be overwhelming, which is just what you wanted, and automatically, you raised onto your tip toes even whilst leaning over the table.

“Fuck!” you shouted, eyes shutting as all thoughts focused on the fullness you felt between your legs and the desperate need for more.

“Nope, none of that, don’t want the neighbours hearing or your boyfriend, got to keep nice and quiet whilst I fuck whats mines”, Ghostface grunted sharply as the hand that was still gloved now wrapped around your mouth, so you were forced to breathe heavily out of your nose.

On instinct, you gripped his wrist but didn’t pull away and just tried to concentrate on controlling your breaths as his hips began to move in short, quick rotations. In and out, sloppy fast thrusts that had deep warmth radiating from your cunt and down your thighs.

Sweat was gathering over your body from behind, stimulated and so close to Ghostface, who was also like a human radiator with all his clothes layers. You could feel that he had been wearing jeans as they brushed with each thrust against your sensitive thighs, and it only again reminded you that this was Steve as your hips shifted back to meet his.

It didn’t take long for you to feel the pressure increasing again like it had just before you moved away from the hallway wall. You wanted to cum, no, you needed to cum, wanting to soak Ghostface’s jeans with your juices, wanting to be good for the fake murderer and show that you could cum on his cock.

“You wanna cum? I can feel you getting tighter”, Ghostface asked next to your ear, his voice rough and gravely from where he was out of breath.

He momentarily released his cover of your mouth to allow you to speak, “Yes, please!”.

Ghostface wanted to laugh at your polite response, already knowing you were slipping into a submissive headspace from the way you were backing up to meet his thrusts and holding onto his wrist like it was your lifeline. But he wanted to keep the roleplaying going for a little longer, even though he was desperate to hear your sweet orgasmic mewls.

His hand again covered your lips as he tutted, “No, I don’t think so. I’m going to cum first, and then you can cum, but not until I do.”

You cried against his palm, feeling like your breath was stuck in your throat as you tried to control your euphoria, but it was difficult to do that and breathe through your nose.

Dizziness swayed through your mind as you slumped against the table, releasing your hold of his wrist as you needed to try and control yourself. Ghostface noticed the change and would have kissed the back of your head if he didn’t have his mask on, so he finally allowed you some comfort by releasing his hold on your mouth, letting you suck in deep breaths that filled your lungs.

This allowed him to hold onto your hips, holding you still and fucking deeper, his bulbous tip brushing against your cervix and thighs bruising into the edge of the table. Faster and harder, he moved, chasing his orgasm until finally his balls tightened to his body, and his shaft hardened with each spurt of hot seed that began to coat your inner walls.

You could feel it and hear Ghostfaces’ orgasm, and you finally relaxed the mental torture of holding back your orgasm and came with him. Your walls clenched in quick flutters that helped to milk the last drops of Ghostface’s cum before he collapsed over your back, mask resting on your shoulder and hands on either side of your head.

The two of you were breathing heavily, too lost in the moment even to talk before he moved first. Starting with a gasp, Steve pulled off his face, and you could see over your shoulder that his hair was drenched, sticking to his forehead and face gleaming in the small streaks of light.

“Fuck, it was warm in there; they need to make them with a small fan inside or something, holy shit!” Steve sits up slightly but still leaning his hands on either side of your head, and he catches your eye and grins, showing all of his teeth and eyes crinkling in the corners. “As much as I’ve loved this, I’ve missed kissing you” he dipped his face and kissed your cheek, leaving a few drips of his sweat on your skin, but you didn’t care, not when he was looking at you in a way that was making your heart race.

“So that mask, we’re keeping it, right?” you finally speak, voice hoarse as you try to smile over your shoulder at him, feeling his cock softening within you.

“Oh, for sure, you kinky little minx”, he agrees, kissing your cheek again.

#steve harrington #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington one shot #stranger things #stranger things smut #mine*#kinktober #kinktober 2023 #ghostface steve harrington #ghostface!steve harrington

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skbeaumont · 2 months

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Texas Heat | Joel x Reader

Chapter 1 - Worst Decision, Best Decision

Series masterlist

Chapter Summary: You've just finished a Masters back home in England, and, with little idea of what you want to do next, decide to spend the summer in Texas, staying with your mum's cousins, the Adlers. But its not the Adlers who pick you up from the airport: it's their handsome neighbour, Joel. Rating: Teen (for now) Tags/warnings: slow burn, eventual smut, age difference (reader is 25, Joel is 37), AU! no outbreak, porn with plot. Word Count: 1.7k

The Texas heat is something else. You’ve hardly been stateside more than two hours and already it feels overwhelming, cloying and claustrophobic. It doesn’t help that the air-conditioning in the airport is sporadic and patchy. By the time you make it through security, into the dry heat of arrivals, your shirt is sticking to your back, hair plastered to your forehead and you’re wondering why you ever let her mother persuade you this was a good idea.

“Go to Texas,” she’d suggested, when you arrived home from your last university term, unsure of what to do or where to begin with starting a life for yourself, “stay with the Adlers – they’re family and god knows Connie would love to see you. Spend the summer there – see what happens.”

And so here you are, too old for a gap year, really, at twenty-five, too young to commit to anything for more than a summer, dragging your suitcase – one broken wheel courtesy of British Airways – through arrivals, wondering if you’ve just made the worst decision of your life. Danny and Connie are strangers but for the fact that they’re your mum’s cousins, though you’ve seen enough photos of them to know who you’re looking for. You look out over the crowded lounge, trying to spot them.

The man your eyes fall on definitely isn’t Mr or Mrs Adler, but he’s holding a sign that bears your name (along with an assortment of hearts and two poorly drawn butterflies). He’s younger than Danny and Connie, maybe late thirties, dark hair curling around his ears, a patchy beard that only accentuates the strong line of his jaw and nose. His eyes – dark, hooded – are searching the crowd of passengers emerging from arrivals. You slow, watching the man, wondering who he is, wracking your brains to remember if the Adlers have a son or brother they haven’t mentioned before in their letters and Christmas cards, but you come up blank.

Eventually, while you’re still wondering who this man is and why he’s got a board bearing your name, your eyes lock with his. He raises his eyebrows – a question – and you sigh, start off towards him, the broken suitcase bumping against your ankles. When you reach him he holds out a hand for you to shake.

“’m Joel,” he says, voice deep, a smooth Southern drawl that you thought only existed in movies, “I’m Danny’s neighbour. They’re sorry they couldn’t be here, they had to take Mrs Adler – Nana – to a hospital appointment. I’m gonna drive you back to theirs, if that’s alright?”

“Of course,” You take the offered hand, shake it, trying not to think about how large it feels compared to your own, how much strength seems to rest in the callused palms and thick fingers. “I’m guessing you didn’t make that sign?”

Joel looks at the name card in his other hand, colour rising on his cheeks as he takes in the love hearts and butterflies that have been painted onto it.

“I can’t say I did.” He replies, “You’ve got Connie to thank for that.”

You laugh and he smirks too, mouth curving up with amusement, eyes crinkling as he does.

“I’m parked right outside,” he says, “I can take that, if you want?”

You hand him the suitcase, about to warn him about the broken wheel but he lifts it easily by the handle, the weight nothing to the shifting muscles that stretch the sleeves of his t-shirt.

His truck is huge, obscenely large compared to the cars you’re used to seeing back home in England. You clamber in, take in the toolboxes in the bed, a hard hat strewn on the back seat, large work boots in the footwell that dwarf your own battered Converse.

“‘scuse the mess.” Joel says, getting into the driver’s seat. “Been a busy week.”

“You’re a builder?” You ask.

“Contractor. Me ‘n my brother, though mostly me, if I’m being honest. You?” He asks the question without looking at you, already starting the engine, something grating in the ignition as he does so.

“Nothing, yet.” You reply, pulling your seatbelt on, “I just finished university – college – and I’m still kind of figuring it out.”

“What did you study?”

“Maths, then a Masters in Theoretical Physics.”

“Shit, smart girl.”

Something about the way he says this, his eyes lingering perhaps a little longer than they need to on your face as he does so, makes your stomach flip.

“Know what you’re going to do with it, now you’re done?”

“Not a clue,” You reply, looking out of the window as the city opens out around the truck.

“Well, don’t rush into anything. Nothing like your twenties to spend messing around trying things out.”

“That what you did?”

He scoffs out a laugh at this, gives you a sideways look. “Not exactly. I had a kid at twenty-two and spent the rest of my twenties figuring that out. Still am, really.” He pauses, flicks his sun visor down and taps a small polaroid that’s slid into the back of the mirror. “She’s thirteen now. Sarah.”

The girl in the photograph is pretty, all bright eyes and curly hair. She’s leaning back in a chair, giggling at something the photographer has just said.

“She’s beautiful,” You say, and you can see the pride bubbling up in him as he flips the visor back up.

“Smart, too. Struggles a bit with math, now they’ve started bringing in algebra. I’m not much help, either. Once you get past adding and minusing, I’m lost.”

You laugh at this, grin at him. “I’d be happy to help out. God knows I’ll have plenty of free time, and I like teaching.”

“Might just take you up on that.” He replies, giving you a soft smile in return.

There’s a dimple in his cheek as he does so, visible only through the patchiness of his beard. He seems to get more and more handsome the longer you look at him. Leaning back in the truck, you can’t help but let your eyes trace his profile, the strong curve of his nose, plushness of his lips. It’s more fascinating than the concrete jungle that’s passing by the windows of the truck.

He’s a good driver: steady, reassuringly confident. He lets one arm rest across the back of the truck’s long seat, the other gently holding the steering wheel, guiding the truck down the freeway. If you laid your head back against the seat it would rest in the curve of his wrist. You don’t, but you can feel the heat rolling off of his arm anyway on the back of your neck, warm in contrast to the cool air blowing through the AC unit. You let your eyes gently close, jetlag starting to creep up on you. Your limbs are stiff and sore from the long plane journey. The hot sun beats down through the windscreen, casting patterns on your closed eyelids. It’s peaceful, here, in the truck with this handsome stranger, and before you know it you’ve fallen asleep, head lolling back on the seat.

Next thing you know Joel’s gently saying your name, one large hand on your shoulder, rousing you from sleep. You open your eyes, squint against the bright sun. He’s parked up in the driveway of a large, brick built house on a suburban street. The garage door is open: tools are stacked up inside, ladders and racks of scaffolding. The drive and lawn are neat, a little scrubby from the heat. You turn, look over at a house you recognise as the Adler’s, the one you’ve seen in it family photographs sent with the yearly Christmas card. Your new home, for the next three months.

Joel holds the door of the truck open for you and your climb out, get your feet down on the solid concrete driveway. He moves round to the back, tugs out your suitcase like it weighs nothing, even though your arms are still aching from dragging it through security hours earlier.

“Connie left me the key,” Joel says, reaching a hand into the back pocket of his jeans and pulling out a brass key on a flowery keyring. “I’ll help you get your stuff in, then leave you to settle in. Connie and Danny should be back in an hour or so.”

The Adler’s house is nice. Quaint, a little dated, décor straight from the 1980s, but it’s homely. You feel settled immediately. There’s a photograph of your mum on the bookshelf, from back when she was a kid, long before she moved from Texas to London.

Joel puts your suitcase at the foot of the stairs, asks if you want him to take it up for you, but you’re not sure which room you’re staying in so you tell him to leave it, that you can sort it out later. There’s a whining from the back room and you look at Joel, questioningly.

“That’ll be Mercy,” He says, moving through the hall to the kitchen, swinging open the door.

A bundle of fur throws itself down the hallway towards you, tail wagging. Joel watches, grin on his face as you bury your face in the dog’s soft coat and wrap your arms around him.

“I’d better head off,” He says when you stand up, brushing fur from your clothes. “You need anything, just give me a shout. You know where I am.”

“Thanks, Joel.” You say, watching him pull open the door, t-shirt bunching up around his shoulders revealing a tanned strip of skin just above the waistband of his faded jeans. “And I meant what I said about helping Sarah with that maths homework.” You add as he steps out onto the porch.

He turns back, shields his eyes from the sun to look at you, mouth turned up in a grin. “And I might just take you up on that, darlin’.”

And then he’s gone, long strides taking him back across the lawn and towards his own house. You lean back against the closed door and shut your eyes, basking in the imprint of Joel’s handsome face etched on the back of your eyelids, wondering if you’ve just made the best decision of your life.

#joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller fanfic #the last of us #joel miller x you #joel miller au #joel miller series

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strang3lov3 · 1 year

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Everyday I'm Shufflin'

Joel Miller x Fem Reader

Summary: Joel is shocked, horrified, disgusted, and absolutely appalled to learn you, an adult, cannot shuffle a deck of cards. He makes it his mission to teach you in a rather unconventional way 😈🔥😍

Warnings: 18+ MDNI! Smutttt, kind of soft dom! Joel (y’all know the fuckin drill, but this is like the softest soft dom), oral sex (m and f receiving), fingering, undefined age gap, unprotected PIV sex, Joel is a sweetie honestly, loosely proofread bc I was so excited to get it out to you guys.

Word Count: 6k (oops)

A/N: Dumb title I know…but listen. I know I’m touching on this particular theme/idea of card shuffling in my story Sweetest Perfection (which I’m unsure of when I will finish lol) but omg ladies…I was playing Gin Rummy with my man a few nights ago and he tried to teach me how to shuffle a deck of cards. I have never been so turned on watching him do something so simple. His hands were so skillful, his voice was so smooth and comforting. So thank you J ❤️ I love you!! (If he ever finds my writing I will drive off a fucking cliff)

if you enjoy this story, please leave me a comment! I am super proud of this story!

Check out my Masterlist

How you learned to shuffle a deck of cards was rather…unorthodox. To say the least.

It started with a game of Gin Rummy.

Joel read once long ago that when shuffling a deck of cards, it is statistically more than likely that the particular order of shuffled cards never existed before and will never exist again.

Joel had played enough games of Solitaire by himself and shuffled enough cards over the past twenty-odd years that he was sure he beat that statistic. What else is there to do when you’re bored as shit in the apocalypse?

It was safe to say Joel was more than sick of Solitaire. So one morning at breakfast, he invited you to join him for a few games of cards. Nothin’ fancy, he said.

You said yes, of course. Joel Miller was distant, reserved. Standoffish, even. But he seemed to have a soft spot for you.

He noticed you sitting alone at dinner about a year and a half ago. He was alone too, Ellie usually ate with Dina. She was too cool for him, he guessed. You looked quite a few years younger than him and looked bored and lonely, nudging and poking at the food on your plate. It made him feel sad.

The next day, you were alone again. And the day after. And the day after that. On day five when he found you sitting alone, he decided to make his move. Instead of going to his usual spot at the end of the banquet tables, he sat across from you.

You looked at him with your eyebrows raised in confusion. “Can I help you?”

He didn’t think it through. He had no idea what to say, no idea how to make conversation. How to explain why he was sitting there. “I just, uh. My juvenile delinquent ditched me. Just wanted some company. I’m sorry, this was dumb,” his voice was gruff and low as he reached for his plate and began to stand up. “I’ll leave ya alone.”

“No, no. Stay,” you corrected yourself. “I didn’t mean to come off rude or anything, you just surprised me. Joel, right? Tommy’s brother?”

He nodded yes. You gave him your name and held out your hand. “Nice to meet you, Joel,”

“You as well, darlin’,” he took your hand in his and gave it a firm shake. His hand was warm and calloused.

And that’s how it started. You hit it off completely. Conversation was slow and awkward at first, but eventually it began to flow naturally. Joel was older, but the type of person you could talk to for hours. Like when you talk about your favorite food or movie and hours later you’re laughing about something random and obscure, and you wonder to yourself how you even ended up on that subject. You met for breakfast and dinner every day.

“So I’ve got a proposal for you, darlin’,” he said, taking a bite of his buttered toast.

“Pray tell, Mr. Miller!” you requested, a curious tone in your voice.

“I’m sick of solitaire. Been playin’ it every damn day for too long now. Come over for cards tonight?”

You paused, pressing your lips in a thin line. Card games weren’t really your thing. You remember Tommy and Maria and how they tried to teach you euchre a while back. It didn’t end well, you left with a migraine and no understanding of how to play euchre. But there were a few games you enjoyed. “Depends. It’s not euchre, is it?”

“Nope. That’s four players, sweetheart,” he informed.

“Poker? Because I don’t know that one either,”

Joel rolled his eyes. He’d have to teach you that one sometime. “No, not poker,” he chuckled when you let out a sigh of relief. “Tell you what, we’ll do any game you want. I’m just sick of playin’ with myself,'' Joel balked, then winced at his poor word choice. He absolutely did not mean to say that.

Your eyes widened in amusement at his silly word mishap. Now that must be a sight for sore eyes, Joel playing with himself. You tried to push the image out of your mind, but it was nearly impossible. You spent many nights with your hand between your thighs, picturing Joel naked and moaning on top of you. Or under you. Or behind you. Sometimes all three. The truth was, you needed Joel badly. Like, desperately. “Tired of playing with yourself, huh?” you teased with a smile and a playful glint in your eyes.

Joel pouted, the slightest tint of rosiness blooming on his cheeks. You idiot, he scolded himself silently. “Shut up, smartass. Are you comin’ over or not?”

“Duh. Ellie gonna be there?”

“Probably not. It’ll be just us, most likely. Is that alright?”

“Yeah, of course,” you smiled. Finally, real alone time with Joel. Maybe tonight you could make your move. You hoped that Joel thought about you too. You caught his lingering stares, picked up on his cautious flirting. He could be so sweet and so charming, it had to be because he liked you too, right? But he was from Texas, so maybe it was just his southern gentlemanliness. Either way, it was worth a shot.

“Let’s meet here for dinner like usual, and then we can go over to my place. That work?”

You smiled and nodded, trying to keep cool. Excitement was bubbling in the pit of your stomach.

“Then it’s a date,”

A date!!

After breakfast, you went home and spent most of the day picking out a cute outfit for the evening. You went through nearly every piece of clothing in your possession, eventually settling for your favorite pair of jeans, a tank top, and a zip up hoodie. Casual.

Dinner came and went as normal. Joel was dressed as his usual self. A dark red flannel and some jeans that hugged his ass a little too nicely. You shared a good conversation, and when you finished eating, Joel took your dishes away and then met you at the door.

You walked side by side until you got to his home. It was cozy and inviting, Ellie’s drawings displayed prominently on the walls. Little tchotchkes and knick knacks here and there. A few old pictures, old books and magazines. His weathered deck of Bicycle playing cards sat in the middle of the dining room table.

Joel pulled out a seat for you and brought you a glass of water. He sat right next to you on the other side of the table. “So,” he started, reaching for the deck. He split the cards in two, braced his fingers along their sides and ran his thumbs from bottom to top. The cards fell in a swift and staggering motion. Effortlessly, he brought the cards up and bent them into an arch, letting them fall. “What card game we playin?”

“I was thinking we could play Gin Rummy?” you asked sweetly.

“Good choice,” he replied. He had some other games in mind, but couldn’t say no to your request. Joel dealt the cards expertly, quickly placing ten cards each in front of yourselves. The thwap thwap thwap of the cards hitting the table was such a pleasant noise. You loved how skillfully he moved his hands.

You brought your cards to yourself, doing your best to sort them into different groups. Unfortunately, Joel gave you the shittiest hand he possibly could have. This would be a swift game, you assumed. Joel snickered when he sorted his cards. By the looks of it, he already had the beginnings of a few good sets and melds. “Gonna kick your ass, darlin’,”

You grumbled in response. Joel flipped the first card up, motioning for you to make your choice. You couldn’t do much with it, so you passed. Joel took it, then discarded one of his own. You were right. The game went by quickly. Within minutes of playing, Joel showed you his hand. He had, in fact, kicked your ass. He was smiling and giggling and bragging, almost how a child would. You loved the way his eyes sparkled and the crinkles that framed them just so. He was too handsome for his own good.

He took your cards and placed them neatly in with the rest of the deck, then placed the deck in front of you. “Your turn to deal. We’re playin’ again,”

“Good. It’s about time I deal. You gave me the crappiest hand you possibly could’ve!” you laughed.

“Yeah, yeah. I purposely gave you a shitty hand because I need to rig the game in order to win. Or maybe I’m just better than you,” he taunted with a smile. He could be such a sarcastic prick at times. You rolled your eyes in response and Joel pointed to the cards. “Deal for me now, sweetheart.”

This is when all hell broke loose.

You took the cards in your hand, doing an awkward shuffle. Moving some cards sporadically here and there and mixing them on the table. It wasn’t the prettiest way to shuffle cards, but it worked. Right?

No, not right. Not according to Joel.

His jaw dropped, eyes squinted and his brow furrowed. He is completely and utterly appalled. Disgusted. Horrified. Offended. “What the fuck is the matter with you? What are you doing to my cards?!”

You stopped your actions. “What?” you asked worriedly.

“My cards! That’s how you’re shufflin’ them? Is this some kind of joke?” his southern accent intensified with his anger.

You looked down at his cards. None were bent or damaged in any way. “Joel, it’s fine,” you chided. “You’re so dramatic.”

“No, it is not fine. You mean to tell me this is how you shuffle cards?”

“Yeah, so?” Joel scoffed. “Unacceptable,” he takes the cards from you, huffing and puffing as he sorts them into a neat stack. “You’re an adult. Do it the right way.”

You give it your best shot. Trying to picture the way he shuffled, you mimic his finger placement and drop the cards, sliding your thumbs along the top edges. They don’t stagger nicely, however. They kind of plop on top of each other in groups.

Joel sighs in disappointment. He takes them from you in a sharp motion. “Give me those,” he grumbles. “You don’t know how to shuffle?” You shake your head no. “Gonna teach you, then.”

He splits the deck in two, then faces the cards so they’re mirroring each other, just like before. “Like this, darlin’,” he starts. “You place your pinkie, middle, and ring fingers at the far end. Pointer is bent at the knuckle on top, thumbs at the close end,” He shows you his hand placement, turning the cards so you can see all angles. “See?”

Joel is rambling about hand placement and how to move your thumbs. But you can’t help it. You’re practically salivating watching him move his fingers so skillfully. As he’s explaining how to slide your thumbs slowly up the cards, you’re picturing his thumb on your hot center, slowly sliding up your folds.

“You try now,” he sets the deck down in front of you.

Shit. You can’t remember a thing about what he told you. He helps you move your fingers properly and you freeze, your brain is short circuiting. His fingers are pure electricity on top of yours.

You take a breath and try again. Somehow, it’s worse than before.

“No, like this,” Joel takes the cards and begins rambling about the cards again. Now you’re watching his middle three fingers, wondering how they would feel inside you. How would they stretch you, how would they move? He’s so fucking good at this. It turns you on.

Joel says something, but you don’t answer. He looks at you, noticing your glazed eyes. You’re on another planet. “Are you even listening to me?” “What?” he breaks your trance. You meet his eyes, his eyebrows are raised and he looks rather irritated with you. “Yeah, yeah. Sorry,” you smile sheepishly.

“What’d I say?”

“You said,” you begin, trailing off when you can’t think of a good lie. He caught you, you weren’t listening at all. You couldn’t repeat a single one of his instructions.

“I’m sorry, am I boring you?” Joel’s words are bitter and he feels upset. He thought this would be a nice way to spend some alone time with you, and you couldn’t give less of a shit about tonight. It’s jarring, he didn’t expect this from you and it stings him.

“No! Of course not, Joel. I’m sorry,” Oops. Probably shouldn’t have been fantasizing about what his fingers could do to you. Rookie mistake, that’s the first rule of learning to shuffle a deck of cards! Never fantasize about your teacher’s fingers!

“Then what is it?”

You hem and haw, rattling off whatever you can think of to answer him. He’s not satisfied and you can see it. His brow is flat and he wears a frown of disappointment.

“Quit lyin’. If you’re bored, just say so. Won’t hurt my feelings,” Lies. Joel’s heart is crumbling at the thought of you being bored of game night. He’d actually been planning on inviting you for a while, and finally gathered the courage today.

“I’m having fun with you,” you stammer for a second, “I promise.”

“Yeah. Seems like it,”

You groan and bury your head in your hands. There’s no way out of this. You have to tell him what’s really going on. “Fine, Joel. You want the truth?”

“Yes, I do. Enlighten me,” he deadpans.

“Fine,” you inhale and close your eyes, mentally preparing for the humiliation you’re about to inflict upon yourself. “Your fingers. Your hands. The way you move, the way you’re so good at this. It’s sexy, okay? I can’t fucking focus.”

Joel’s in disbelief that he heard you correctly. When the words finally register, a smirk curls up on his lips. He feels a little guilty for accusing you of not caring. But then again, he never would have thought shuffling cards would be a turn on for a woman. Poor thing, he thinks. You’re not bored, you’re just hot and bothered. It’s no wonder you can’t focus. “You think I’m sexy?”

You stare at the cards, avoiding his stare. God, this is embarrassing. “Yeah, of course,”

“Of course, huh?” he taunts you with a shit eating grin. “My fingers are gettin’ you all worked up, is that right?”

You finally build the courage to look up. There’s no animosity or malice in his gaze, just amusement. Your confidence is beginning to return. “That’s right,” you reply with a whisper.

“Wow. My fingers gettin’ you all hot and bothered and I’ve never even touched you,” he teases. “That’s what’s goin’ on in that pretty head of yours? You’re thinkin’ about me touchin’ you?”

You nod. “How could I not? I always do,”

“Oh darlin’, how you flatter me,” He pauses, thinking. Joel gets a twisted idea then, and places the cards in front of you. “Tell you what, sweet thing. You shuffle those cards real nice for me, I’ll use my fingers on you. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

“Yes Joel, please,” you rasp out. You took the scenic route to get there, but the night is finally headed in the direction you had hoped for.

Joel makes it look so easy. Just focus a little harder, and you’ll do it. You split the deck in two, mirror the cards, place your fingers properly, and–

Plop plop. Plop.

The deck splits in large chunks with a few single cards falling near the end. You exhale in frustration.

“Come on now, sweetheart. You want me to touch you, right?” Joel’s wearing a twisted smirk, so smug and cocky. “What’re you screwin’ around for?”

Joel loves teasing his partners, he loves building up tension so palpable that it could be sliced with a knife.

You glare at him. You’ll show him. It can’t be that fucking hard to shuffle a damn deck of cards. You repeat the shuffling motion, failing again.

You grunt at the deck of cards, wishing you could make them burst into flames. You try again, and fail. Yet again.

You try again. Fail.

And again. Fail.

Focusing is becoming increasingly difficult with the throbbing growing stronger at the apex of your thighs.

You huff indignantly, slamming the cards on the table. “Fuck this,”

“Hey, now. If you’d’ve just listened to me you’d get it right by now,” Joel steps out of his chair and hovers behind you, then motions for you to begin again. He places his hands over yours, separating them a little. “Hands are too close together, darlin’. That’s why the cards aren’t falling right. Now try.”

You steady your breath, focusing on the cards. You slide your thumbs up the edges slowly and watch the cards stagger perfectly. The pitter patter of each card hitting the other is the most beautiful and relieving sound you’ve ever heard. You gasp, amazed that you finally did it.

Joel opens his mouth to praise you, but you interrupt him by practically leaping out of your chair and into his arms. Without thinking, you grab his face and press your lips to his, kissing him hard and fast. Your lips slide sloppily against his and your teeth click together every so often.

Your hands leave his face and furiously unbutton your jeans and you grab his hand, shoving it down the front of your pants. You moan when his fingers reach your center.

Joel’s instinct is to tease you some more, but you’ve done that to yourself enough already. It’s evident by the river flowing between your thighs. You gasp when drags his middle and ring fingers up and down your seam.

“You poor thing,” he whispers into your lips. “Fuckin’ needed this, hm?”

You don’t answer him, you can’t. You just whimper into his mouth. His strong nose presses against your cheek and his lips are soft against yours. His calloused fingers paint steady circles against your clit and his other arm is around your waist, holding you tightly against him. He can feel your knees beginning to buckle and he relishes in the way you’re unraveling, just for him.

He parts from you and removes his hand from your pussy. You let out a cry of frustration at the loss. “I know, darlin’,” he sympathizes.

He sits on his chair and pulls you close to him by your hips, then tugs your jeans down your thighs. He motions for you to take them off the rest of the way and then guides you to sit in his lap, your back flush against his chest. He pushes his hand down the front of your panties and returns it to your pussy, circling your clit once more before pushing two fingers inside your wet heat, curling upwards and hitting the spot that makes your thighs tremble. His hot breath tickles your ear and sends a shiver down your spine. “Did so good, baby. So good for me,”

A strangled moan gets caught in your throat. His fingers feel incredible, stretching you out and pressing into you.

He loves the wet squelching sound of your pussy, he loves the way your head is resting on his shoulder, your lips pressing into his neck as you whimper sweet nothings into his skin. His other arm is wrapped tight around your body and he squeezes your breasts in his big hand, pinching and twisting your pebbled nipples. “God, you don’t take much at all do you? So sensitive, just for me,”

His cock is hard beneath you, poking through his jeans and into your back. He desperately wants to be touched, wants to take this further and fuck you hard and deep. But not yet.

“Joel, I want more now,” you whine, feeling heat deep in the pit of your stomach.

“You want to come now, sweetheart? Come all over my fingers?” he nudges your thighs farther apart and you open up deeper for him. He removes his hand from your breasts and trails it down your body, beginning gentle circles on your clit while the fingers on his other hand continue curling into you.

“Please,” you cry. You’re so noisy, he’s thankful you’re screaming into his bad ear.

“‘Course, baby. You can let go. It’s okay,” he coos. If only you could see his devilish smirk and know what twisted idea he’s conjuring up in his head.

With his permission, you let yourself go. Your face and chest flush and your muscles squeeze around his fingers erratically. “Fuck, fuck, Joel,” you moan. Joel continues his work on your pussy as you ride out your high. It’s a delicate orgasm, soft and gentle. It feels wonderful, but you need more.

With shallow breaths, you compose yourself and turn to face him. You press kisses to his lips and his jaw and down his throat. Then, on your knees, you reach for his belt buckle.

“What d'ya think you’re doin’, sweetheart?” he questioned you, his voice taunting and playful. He grabs your hands and holds them tightly to stop you.

“What do you mean? I’m going down on you,” you reply, baffled by his question. “Then we’re gonna fuck.”

“Ah, ah,” he tuts. “No we’re not.”

“We’re not?”

“No. I never said I’d fuck you. I told you I’d use my fingers on you,” Of course, he knew you thought this would go farther. But Joel revels in teasing a woman, making her beg and cry for him before finally giving in.

You scoff in disdain. “But I wanted more,” you complain.

“I know you did, baby. If you want my cock, you have to work for it. You didn’t shuffle the cards right,” he tells you plainly, as if it was so obvious. “Shuffle the cards right and I’ll fuck you.”

You raise your eyebrows. “Yes, I did. You watched me,”

“I did watch you, and you didn’t do it right. Have to finish with the bridge fall, sweetheart. Or else you’ll bend my cards and I’ll be real upset with you,” he explains, feigning sympathy for you. “I’d have to punish you. And you really don’t want that, baby. So why don’t you be a good girl now, shuffle those cards the right way so I can fuck you real nice, just how you wanted.” his voice is dark and low and serious, you love the gravelly rumble coming from deep in his chest. “Do that for me?”

You love the threat. One day you’ll have to bend his cards, just to see what he’d do to you. But you have bigger concerns at the present moment.

You take a step back to your seat and sit, the cold wood of your chair is refreshing on the hot and sweaty skin of your thighs. You grab the deck, separate it, and take a deep breath in and let it out. You move your hands apart just a touch, just as Joel instructed earlier. And you let the cards fall into place.

With your hands now holding the shuffled cards, you try your best to maneuver them into falling into place. It doesn’t go as planned, the cards flop backwards and scatter all over the table.

Joel bites back a smile, a teasing glint in his eyes. “Havin’ trouble?”

“No. I can do it,”

You try again. Split the deck, run your thumbs up the edge of the cards and–

The cards fall in chunky groups, not quite the elegant shuffle Joel was looking for. Oops. Fucked that one up. Not to worry, you’ll just try again.

This time you shuffle correctly, attempt the bridge fall once more and fail. Again. You hear the clink of Joel’s belt buckle fall and watch him unzip his pants and pull out his cock. It’s hard and the tip is blushed as he begins to stroke himself. “Better get it together, darlin’. I’m gettin’ tired of waiting on you,”

You glare at him silently.

You steady yourself and try again. And fail. Fucking again. Joel lets out a low whistle and spits into his hand, then brings it to his cock again. His fist is moving up and down his shaft and he shrugs at you, as if to say ‘Sorry, sweetheart. Can’t help it’. This is a delightfully unique change of pace, he thinks. He’s not doing a thing to work you up, your pleasure and release is all dependent on yourself alone.

Alright. Once more, this time with feeling.

Fail.

You try and try and try again, failing each time. Your fingers are exhausted and your palms are sweaty, causing you to slip up. And Joel’s sitting there, playing with his cock and not saying a thing. You’re so beyond irritated, completely tired of this torturous bullshit. Tears of frustration well in your eyes and spill out and down your cheeks. This is fucking agonizing. You ignore your tears, hoping that if you don’t acknowledge them Joel won’t either. You try again. Nothing. You let out a cry in dissatisfaction.

“I know, baby. You’re tryin’ so hard,” Joel whispered earnestly. You just let out a dry laugh. “You are,” he continued. “Take a deep breath, focus for me. You got it.”

You shuffle the cards, set up the arch. “Easy, now. Lift up one thumb, let the cards fall. You can do it, baby,”

You do as you’re told, lifting up your left thumb slowly. You can’t believe your eyes as you watch the spill neatly into each other. Fucking finally.

You drop the cards and let them scatter slightly on the table. In a rush, you leap to Joel and drop to your knees, not even caring about the way the hard floor makes your knees ache. You swat his hand away from his cock and part your lips over the tip, feeling him slide past your tongue and down your throat.

In your fantasies, you’d tease him with your tongue a little. Make him want you, need you. But not here, not now. You’re hungry for his cock and want to waste no time with him. You savor the way his cock feels so smooth and soft in your mouth, the slightly salty flavor of his skin. It’s all so…Joel.

Even Joel was surprised by how eager you were. He gasped when you took him into his mouth, but quickly relaxed as you began your pace. You gripped his denim clad thigh in one hand and brought the other to the base of his length, twisting and pumping it as you bobbed your head. You hummed and moaned against him.

“Wow, darlin’. Someone’s excited,” he mumbles.

You look at him with big doe eyes and offer a wink in response. Joel lets you continue for a while more. He loves how enthusiastic you are, sucking and stroking him like it’s all you’ve ever wanted to do. It brings him close to the edge.

He taps your cheek a couple times, encouraging you to hop off of him. Your lips are puffy and red, spit dribbling down your chin. He grabs you by your arms and shoves you against the table, then pushes the cards out of the way. You watch and giggle as they clatter on the ground in a big mess. He was so protective of those same cards before, so offended at how you touched them. Now they sat in disarray on the ground. “Your cards,” you breathed with concern.

“Don’t care,” he mumbled, pulling your panties down your thighs and pushing your back onto the table. He knelt before you and draped your legs over his shoulders, loving the way they weighed him down. “Let me taste you, please,” he rasped out. You nodded hurriedly. Joel wasted no time, hungrily licking and kissing your folds. He lapped at you, pressed his tongue flat against your center and dragged it over your sensitive skin. He loved how you tasted, how you made a mess of his mustache and his beard. He pointed his tongue and flicked at your clit as he brought two fingers to your core, scissoring and twisting and stretching you out.

It felt amazing, so intense and pleasurable. But you had been waiting so long for his cock already and it’s all you could think about. You pushed Joel away from your body and tore off the rest of your clothes as he followed suit. He looked gorgeous, tan skin and oh so smooth. He wasn’t very hairy, you noticed. Just a tuft of coarse hair at the base of his cock and a little happy trail leading down to it. His muscles were soft and lightly defined, you loved the little swell of his tummy. “You’re beautiful,” you whispered. “Need you to fuck me now.”

Joel cocked his head slightly at your compliment. No one had ever called him beautiful before. You were such a genuinely lovely person. He smiled sweetly at you before kissing you, closing the gap between your nude bodies. “You’re so fucking gorgeous, baby. Wish I told you earlier,” he purred. “I’ll fuck you now. You did so good, baby. So proud of you.”

With that, Joel lined his hard cock up to your soaked entrance and pushed inside. Slowly, being sure not to go too hard or too fast. He watched your face, the way your eyes fell shut and your mouth dropped open. He stopped once he was about halfway inside of you. “How am I doin’, darlin’?”

“Please fuck me,” you begged. You appreciated his gentle care, how he wanted to make sure you were comfortable. You’d expect nothing less than the illustrious southern gentleman. But you’ve been waiting long enough with the prospect of being fucked by Joel Miller. Fuck sweet lovings, you needed to be fucked. To be used, like a toy. “Now.” you demanded.

It’s all the permission Joel needed. He slammed his hips into yours and you wrapped your arms around his shoulders, gripping his tight muscles. Your hands wandered down his back and settled on his ass. You squeezed the soft flesh beneath your fingers and let out moan after moan.

Joel loved how vocal you were. Telling him what you needed, how you needed it. He loved the pretty noises you made, all for him. No one else. Not anymore, at least. You were his now and would be forever.

“Fuck, Joel,” you panted between breaths. “Feels so good.” Joel’s head dipped down to your chest and he kissed and nipped at the soft skin of your breasts, tonguing your nipples and loving how you shuddered at his touch. “Good, baby,” he said. “You deserve it.”

You did deserve it, after all. He made you work like a fucking dog for it.

Joel fucked you at a steady pace, comfortable for both of you. He asked you what felt good, what you needed. How he could make it better. “Tell me what I can do, sweetheart,”

There were no improvements to be made. Everything about Joel was second to none, his cock, the way he moved, the way he held you. He fucked you perfectly, just how you needed. “Nothing, just,” you squinted your eyes shut and searched your brain for words, finding it difficult to piece any together. “Just keep fucking me like this. Maybe a little harder, please.”

Joel was a provider. A lady as beautiful as yourself, asking for more? It’d be a sin to deprive you of what you needed. So Joel obliged, picking up the pace and hitting you deeper. “Just like that, Jesus, fuck. Just like that, baby.”

Baby. Joel loved that term of endearment. He wasn’t used to being called any sweet nicknames, usually he was the one who’d dole them out. Not just to anyone, only to those closest to himself. It’s why he called you ‘sweetheart’ and ‘darling’ so often.

He liked being the object of your affection. “Keep callin’ me that, please,” he requested, his voice shy and low. He was so tough and domineering just moments ago, and now he was bashful and vulnerable, all because of one little word. Baby.

“Fuck, baby. You feel so good. Wanted this for so long,” you whimpered, holding onto him tightly. You’d abandon his name completely and call him ‘baby’ for the rest of your lives, if he asked you to.

“God, sweetheart. Me too,” he grunted.

Joel couldn’t last much longer. He let out groans and strangled out moans as his pace became sloppy. “Let me make you come,” he begged. He wriggled his hand between your bodies, placing his thumb on your clit. He held a firm pressure to the sensitive bud and moved it in concise circles, pushing you closer and closer to your release.

You let out a throaty moan as you felt your climax begin to bubble up inside you. “Don’t stop, don’t stop,” you pleaded. “I’m right there.”

Joel just kept doing what he was doing. Circles on your clit and fucking you deep, hitting that sweet spot deep inside you. Your moans turned frantic and you cried out his name, over and over again, like a prayer. Your orgasm was much more intense than the last one, it sent electricity all through your body. You felt tingles and sparks wash over you, from your scalp all through your fingertips, down all the way to your toes. It was the best orgasm any lover of yours had ever blessed you with.

Joel felt your body shudder around him, felt your pussy convulse and squeeze his cock. His thrusts became harder, faster, and frenzied as he chased his own climax. You watched his eyes screw shut and little drops of sweat fall down his temples as he let out a deep moan. His cock pulsed inside you, painting you with his hot seed.

He let out a laugh then, between panting breaths. He pulled you in for a hug, his skin hot and slick with sweat. Head pressed to his heaving chest, you could feel his heartbeat in your ear. Your new favorite feeling.

Joel pulled away from you, kissed you sweetly and helped you clean up. You pulled on your clothes and sat neatly at the table, picking up and sorting out the disheveled cards. Joel did the same, he bent down next to you and gathered the cards on the ground.

He placed them in front of you, left for a second with your empty glasses, and returned with the glasses of water refilled before sitting in his seat again. How you didn’t knock them over during your fucking, you had no idea.

“Alright, baby. Show me how you shuffle now,” he grinned at you. He wanted to make sure his unorthodox method of teaching you actually worked.

You smiled back, split the deck in two and mirrored them for the nth time that evening, and then placed your fingers along the two decks. You slid your thumbs up the cards, watched one fall on top of the other, and brought the cards back up into a nice arch. With a breath, you let off one thumb and let the cards fall down slowly. You sighed in relief. Your maneuver wasn’t quite as smooth as Joel’s, but there was plenty of time to practice.

You dealt out ten cards each, gathered your hand and did your best to hide a smirk. You held a three, four, and six of clubs, three kings, and two jacks.

Joel sighs disappointedly at his hand. You couldn’t have dealt him worse cards. Nothing went with anything.

The two of you exchanged cards quietly, as if you didn’t just desecrate Joel’s dining room table. It was quite funny, really.

The game was quick, just like before. You placed your sets and melds in front of him. “Read it and weep,” you jeer.

Joel grumbles something about cheating and steals your cards. “Rematch,” he says. “Loser gives the winner head.”

“Deal,”

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bloodyknucklesforme · 1 month

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Red Summer | Ghoap x F!Reader | Slasher!AU

After breaking up with your long term boyfriend you take a job working as a camp counselor in Northern Vermont. Seven weeks of swimming, volleyball, archery and hiking. There's even a hot lifeguard. It seems perfect until you find something evil is lurking in the woods

Tags: Slasher AU, Ghoap x Reader, intro chapter, nondescript reader, dark fic

Chapter 1: Girls Just Wanna Have Fun

5.5k words

It smelled like Summer. Ozonic and earthy, carried into your car by the breeze as you drove North through winding roads. Montpelier was two hours behind you now.

Despite the eighty degree heat, Vermont was lush and green. Only a couple more miles of shaded forest roads before you reached camp. At least you hoped so. Your maps app had been slow to load the last twenty miles.

The place was North, nestled between the border of Canada and the New Hampshire state line. It was gorgeous though. Anytime you thought about moving out of New England to somewhere cheaper the next season changed your mind. The trees just didn’t look as pretty in fall or the snow as splendid in winter. You just wished it was cheaper.

Suppose that’s why you took this job, as much as it didn’t appeal to you. Camp counselor for seven long weeks, the pay was shit but your food and board came free. After a bad breakup you didn’t have time to find a new lease so your life was packed up into a rented storage box with anything valuable shoved into the back of your car.

A friend of a friend recommended it. She’d been working here for years, attended for even more. She was an old money New Englander. Boarding school outside of Boston and all that. She was nice though. Got you the job over any qualified candidates. It wasn’t nepotism but whatever it was called you wouldn’t complain.

Your car dinged. Low gas. Shit.

Scrolling quickly through the map you saw a gas station up ahead. You’d just make it… hopefully.

You let out a sigh of relief as you pulled into the station. It was older with dusty windows and sun-faded posters for cigarettes.

A piece of paper was taped to the pump.

“Reader broken. Pay inside” scribbled in sharpie.

You sighed and headed inside.

It was dusty inside too. A couple aisles of brightly packaged food and walls lined with fridges filled with beer and soda. The man behind the counter glanced up from his book when you walked in.

He was handsome. Black with dark, short cut curly hair and big brown eyes. Much too handsome to be working in the middle of nowhere. He’d look more fitting in the corner of a bar, buying you a drink. He smiled up at you and your heart might have skipped a beat.

“Pump three? How much?” He was English… strange.

“Just…uh… ten bucks.” You stumbled out.

“It’s the accent,” he chuckled. “It throws everybody off the first time.”

“It’s a strange place for an Englishman to be, I guess.” You swayed awkwardly.

“I go to Middlebury. Easier to get a summer job than fly home.” He shrugged.

“Understandable.” You weren’t an expert on Vermont geography but you swore the college was on the other side of the state.

“Ten on three.” He said, nodding his head towards the window.

“Oh yeah. Thank you.”

“You still got to pay, love.”

“Oh fuck, yeah. Sorry… uh… Kyle.” You read his name tag before digging through your tote bag, finding the last bit of your cash.

“No worries. What brings a girl like you out here.”

“I’m working at the camp.”

“Weldon lake, right?”

“Yeah. First time… I’m going the right way, right?”

“If you continue up the road. There will be a sign when you need to turn.” He handed you your receipt.

“Thank you.”

“Hey!” You were half way out the door when he called. “Stay alive out there. Heard the campers can be down right evil.”

“I’ll try!”

The rest of the journey was smooth, there was a sign just like Kyle said. Another one after that taking you down a long gravel drive and into a dirt parking lot. A couple other cars were there already.

You made sure everything important was locked up in the trunk before grabbing your duffel bag and tote. You hoped you brought enough sunscreen.

The sun was warm on your back as you made your way up to the main building. Two other girls were hanging around on the porch. They each wore matching white baseball shirts with red sleeves and trim, each labeled with STAFF on the back.

“Hey, you’re Sophia’s friend, right? I’m Janie.” She jumped down from the porch fence. “I love your braids by the way.”

You’d done your hair before leaving, figuring it’d be easier to keep clean braided than fight for limited shower time.

“I’m Natalie,” The other girl greeted. You introduced yourself, thanking Janie for the compliment.”

“I think your cabin is next to mine. I can take you over once you check in.” Janie said.

Check in was easy enough. Sign a couple more papers, show off your ID to prove you were you and get your cabin assignment, key and two staff shirts. Tomorrow was orientation before the campers arrived Monday morning. Tonight was for getting to know everyone.

“So, where’s this cabin?” you asked, walking outside.

The girls grinned and led you down the path. Everything seemed to branch off from here. They pointed out where the dining hall was just past the main office next to the nurse’s station.

“Don’t expect much. They’re still recovering from when Covid almost killed this place.”

“Damn.”

“Yeah. They had to raise fees and a bunch of parents freaked out. Guess an extra hundred dollars really threw all the millionaires off.” Natalie laughed.

Next was the pool, fully fenced in and surrounded by two tennis courts and two basketball courts on either side.

“Hey lasses!” A man called from the pool, leaning over the chain link fence. Natalie rolled her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest. “Who’s the new girl?”

He had a thick Scottish accent. Lots of transplants for the area, you guessed. He was also handsome. Muscular with a dark mohawk and light eyes. He was shirtless with very short and tight red shorts on and a silver whistle around his neck. He was dripping water over the ground.

“You say that like you aren’t also the new guy, Johnny!” Natalie called, clearly annoyed already.

“Nat hates him.” Janie giggled.

“It’s been three hours and he’s already tried to fuck half the counselors. He’s a dog.”

“One I’d put on a leash.” Janie laughed.

Johnny walked over, still dripping wet. His crocs squeaked with every step.

“Johnny,” he grinned, holding out his hand to you. You introduced yourself as he shook your hand excitedly. He had a tattoo on his side, up by his ribs. You couldn’t see all of it but it looked like a heart with someone’s initials in it. S and something else, you couldn’t tell for sure. “Beautiful name for a beautiful gal.”

Your cheeks felt hot as his blue eyes traveled over your body.

“It’s going to be a fun seven weeks with all you bonnie lasses around.” He grinned. Nat looped her arm around yours.

“Down dog. We still have half the camp to show off.”

“You know where to find me. Pool looked like the lake when I got here.” He raised his hands up as he walked backwards towards the pool again.

“Come on, before we lose Janie.”

“He’s hot!” She defended.

“You just like him because he got your name right on the first try.”

“He’s intelligent too!”

The cabins were next. Ten white painted buildings split in half with about eight beds on each side and a shared bathroom in the back. They formed a circle around a fire pit with log benches.

You had cabin room 14. Janie was the building next door in 15 and Nat with 16 sharing with her. They took turns explaining everything.

“Your bed is the only non bunk and the chest underneath locks so anything you don’t want the campers to find should go there.”

“Basically all your shit. I had a copy of Crime and Punishment stolen last year. Fucking Crime and Punishment like any of these kids could read Dostoevsky.”

“Showers are in the back. Hot water is sparse so if you want some, move quick and early.”

“Breakfast is at 8. Coffee tastes like shit unless you pour half a pound of sugar in it.”

“You can vape just outside but if you smoke you gotta ask your neighbor counselor to watch your kids. At least thirty feet away or they’ll snitch too.”

“Weed is only for days off because they'll either snitch or demand you share. That goes for kids and counselors.”

“Days off are randomly assigned but you should get one every other week.”

“I don’t recommend sleeping with other counselors but if you must, go to your car.” Natalie said.

“We’ll leave you to get settled. Dinner is in an hour. You can meet everyone else then.”

“Thank you guys for everything.” You felt overwhelmed just a bit.

They left, still arguing about Johnny. He was cute but the break up wounds were still fresh. You didn’t want to sneak around either. You weren’t a teenager anymore.

You haphazardly dumped the contents of your duffle into the lock chest before shoving it back under the bed. You had seven weeks to organize it.

The bed was okay. A plastic covered mattress with an old sleeping bag. You should have brought your own pillow. Maybe a Target run on your next day off whenever that was.

The ache in your muscles from driving all day hit hard the moment you sat down.

There was a knock on the door.

“Hey sleepyhead!” Sophia came in. You rubbed your face as you woke up. Out the window you could see the sky looked darker, a blue summer evening. “I’m glad you ended up coming.”

“Yeah. Thanks for getting me the job.” You stretched, your shoulders cracking. “It’s nice to get away.”

“I’m sorry about you and Ale.” There it was. She was nice but always craved gossip.

“It’s okay. Just wanted different things.”

You shrugged. It wasn’t a bad breakup, no arguing, just a slow and painful demise. He’d even offered to let you stay with him when the lease ended and he found out you didn’t have a place to go. You chose this instead.

“Well, let’s get you something to eat. The food is incredibly mediocre but I heard a rumor that the lifeguard has beer and weed for the fire pit.”

She was not wrong about dinner. Hot dogs with a slice of Kraft cheese melted on top with a bag of chips as a side.

You sat with Nat, Sophia and Janie.

“There are my lovely ladies!” Johnny sat down, forcing his way between Cel and Sophia. Nat looked like she wanted to kill him. “Coming out to the lake tonight? Hope you all brought swim suits or birthday suits.”

“Jesus Christ.” Nat groaned.

“I think we’re gonna have an easy night. Some of us had long drives.” Sophia motioned to herself and you. “Just some girl time.”

Johnny pouted.

“Fair enough but I do expect all of you at the bonfire tomorrow.” He pointed at all of them, even Nat. “Especially you new girl.”

He got up and jogged off to another table of girls.

“Am I allowed to call him a slut?”

“What happened to dog?” Janie asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Dogs can be trained.”

You all laughed. You’d been worried that you wouldn’t fit in. All the other girls knew each other for years at this point. Janie and Sophia had been coming here since they were kids. Nat met Janie in high school and got a job as a junior counselor with her the first chance they got.

It wasn’t a super attractive job and the pay was shit but it looked good on resumes and college applications apparently. Showed responsibility. Most of your experiences with camp were from horror films.

The sun was still out as the four of you walked back. Sophia was your cabin neighbor, taking care of room 13. It’s where you all gathered.

Sophia and you sat on her bed while she did your nails.

“Red looks nice on you.” It was a bright cherry red. She’d picked it out, saying they should all match.

The evening was spent talking and laughing. You asking questions about camp life and getting advice from the other girls.

You had friends back home but you were glad you fit in so fast. Any anxiety and fear for the Summer slipped away as the sun set.

“I’m beat.” Nat yawned. It was almost midnight now. Janie agreed and the two wandered off back to their cabin.

“I’ll head back too. Thank you for being so welcoming, Soph.”

“Absolutely! It’s nice to get fresh meat every once and a while. It can be tough with the kids so some people get jaded. I hope you have fun this Summer and if you don’t you can blame me.” She laughed.

The air was cool on the little porch out front. Most of the other cabins had their lights off by now and the center was lit up with fireflies, neon yellow dots.

There was an orange dot out towards the back of one of the cabins across the way. A cigarette. The man smoking it seemed larger than any counselor you’d seen but it was dark and he was half hidden behind the building. It was Johnny’s cabin, you think. He was big.

He waved and you waved back. He dropped the cigarette and stamped it out. The little corner fell dark and you went into your side.

You didn’t realize how quiet the world could be as you curled up in your sleeping bag. No hum of electronics or cars. No people yelling above or below you. Just the stillness of the stars.

It was an early morning. Johnny was running around the circle of cabins playing music to wake everyone up. He was shirtless again and his shorts seemed shorter than the day before. You wouldn’t complain.

“So why did you choose this wonderful vista as a summer job?” Johnny asked, jogging up next to you as you made your way to the dining hall.

“Needed a break. Get out in nature for a bit. I grew up in the suburbs and just broke up with my boyfriend so I guess I wanted to breathe for a bit. You?”

“Running from my previous life of crime.” He smiled. “Nah, just also trying to get away. Was military back home, knee injury did me in. Didn’t know what else to do. Hiked part of the Appliachian trail. You know, it's the same mountain range as the Highlands. Felt like I had to see them. Haven’t really felt like going back home yet.”

“You hiked alone?” You raised an eyebrow. You knew that it was one of the longest and hardest trails in the country.

“Had a mate with me but I’m on my lonesome now.” He opened the door for you. Sure, he was boisterous but he seemed harmless one on one. Maybe a little dogish but he wasn’t going to hump your leg unprompted.

“Shirts are needed in the dining hall, Mactavish!” Sophia called. He held up his hands in surrender before fishing out a cropped muscle tee that had been shoved into his pocket. It was a nice change of pace to be around a man that wanted to show off his own skin rather than try to get girls to show theirs.

You told yourself before you got here that you wouldn’t look for that kind of distraction. It wasn’t worth it, especially not this early. You could look though. No harm in that.

Bacon, Eggs and self-serve cereal was today’s breakfast. You joined back up with the girls from last night. Orientation was supposed to take up most of the day so they encouraged you to grab a couple pieces of fruit and a protein bar.

“Only fill up your water bottle in here. There are fountains elsewhere but I think they taste weird.” Said Janie.

You were put in a group with Johnny, Sophia, and another guy named Warren. He and Sophia were long term counselors so they gladly took on the role of being you and Johnny’s tour guide. Johnny had been hired because of his lifeguard training so he already knew the layout of the lake and pool. You were scolded for not having proper shoes for hiking.

“What’s your size? I might have an old pair in my car.” Sophia offered. “If not I think there’s an L.L.Bean like two hours away. We can go on our next day off.”

You weren’t sure if you could afford brand new boots so silently hoped that Sophia did have that old pair and they fit.

“Don’t want ya getting blisters all summer.” Johnny said. He was doing the hike in crocs but apparently did have boots back at his cabin.

You didn’t do the full trail but Warren pointed out the different routes and how difficult each one was and which ones kids could do by themselves and which ones they couldn’t. The fields were next. A soccer field and baseball field were across the way from the cabins. It was a loose definition of each. One was a huge patch of grass and the other a diamond of dirt. Both looked a little off size wise. There was the sports supply shed that had all the equipment in it. Only a couple counselors had keys to it.

“People kept using it inappropriately.” Sophia smiled.

There was the art building, the rec hall, a path leading towards the archery field and riflery field.

“Riflery?”

“Yeah. We used to teach kids how to shoot. Mostly clay pigeons but it was one of the programs cut after Covid,” Warren explained.

“Shame I missed it. Could have taught the kids trick shots.” Johnny joked, pretending to aim a rifle backwards over his shoulder.

The horse stable was also closed. Too expensive to have horses here for even half the season.

The Lake was the last part of the tour. It was on the other side of the road so to get there was an underpass to get there. It was large enough for five adults to walk side by side comfortably but the yellow light from the lamps gave it a sickly vibe.

It ended a little ways before the beach. There were several rows of Kayaks and another shed filled with life preservers and paddles.

“Wow Johnny! You cleaned it up well.” Warren clapped him on the back. For a moment Johnny looked irritated that he’d been touched but he shoved that emotion out of the way to make room for his usual excited self.

“Yeah. Cleaned up the best I could.”

“It looks great, Johnny.” You were impressed. He’d even sprayed the kayaks down, bright clean plastic in a rainbow of colors.

“Yer making me blush.” He laid a hand over his heart.

The lake was gorgeous. Cream colored sand feeding into sapphire waters. You could just see the beach on the other side, a small empty dock with a path leading into the woods. The camp side had a floating platform about thirty feet into the water.

“Campers have to swim there and back to pass the swimming competency test.” Sophia explained. “If you can’t swim on your own you’re stuck in the buoyed area.”

There was a ten by ten foot area cordoned off by buoys, keeping to the shallow end of the lake. Made enough sense. No one wanted to fish a dead kid out of the water.

“Let’s head back. We don’t want to miss lunch.” Warren clapped his hands together.

The four of you made the trek back to the dining hall. You did feel like blisters were starting to form on the back of your ankles. You’d have to put band-aids on them later.

The rest of the afternoon was spent going over itinerary for the following week. Campers would arrive tomorrow between ten and six. It was a day mostly planned out for settling them in with an inaugural bonfire that night. After that it was seven weeks of regular old American camp adventures.

You went back to your cabin the moment you had free time. Your ankles hadn’t started to bleed but they were bright red and throbbing. You applied the bandaids and grabbed another pair of socks to wear the rest of the way.

There was about an hour and half before dinner and final orientation from the camp managers, who, you had been told, often made themselves scarce throughout the summer to avoid having to do their jobs. You settled on top of your sleeping bag. A nice breeze came in through the screen door. Janie had told you that it was the best way to keep the building cool.

You thought about Ale. His smile and deep laugh. How he’d wake you up in the morning with kisses to the back of your neck. How he loved your hair and ass. How he’d whisper in Spanish to you. You still had the English/Spanish dictionary he gave you shoved in a box back in the city. You missed him. Your cowboy. He would have been so disappointed to hear the stables were closed. Maybe you’d call him after all this. Ask to work something out.

You drifted off daydreaming about the scent of his cologne.

“Bonnie! You’re gonna miss dinner!” Johnny was knocking on the screen door. Maybe Nat was right in being annoyed by him all the time.

“I’ll just miss it.” you sighed, rolling over on the bed.

“You never know which meal is your last. Best not to skip any! C’mon or I’ll drag ya myself.”

You would have thrown a pillow if you had one. How did he always have so much energy?

He jogged literal circles around you on the way to the dining hall.

“How are your feet?” he asked.

“Huh?”

“You were limping on the way back to the cabins earlier.”

“Oh…yeah just blisters.”

He tutted at you.

“Got to get you some good shoes soon.”

Dinner was the same hot dogs as the previous night with a bonus of a bowl of lettuce, cherry tomatoes and a slice of cucumber.

There was an excited energy in the room. Most people who’d snuck in alcohol or drugs said tonight was the best night to use it all. An unspoken competition of who could drink the most and still function when the first campers started to arrive. It could be fun, you mused. You were never a big partier in college and what was this if not a perfect chance to make up for that.

The boys built up a nice fire, each poking and prodding their own side with their favorite stick. You sat on one of the log benches next to Sophia and Janie. Johnny was across the fire, his arm around the waste of another girl counselor. Ceilidh you think it was. Pronounced like Kay-lee, she’d said. Pretty name, Gaelic. Made sense for him to go after a piece of home.

“Glad he’s finally left us alone.” Nat chuckled.

“I think they’re cute.” Sophia said. You pushed down the twinge of jealousy you felt seeing her giggle at his joke.

Warren came around with a cooler filled with a hodgepodge of beer. He was his fraternity’s president and one of his responsibilities was to get rid of any extra at the end of the term to avoid trouble. Dry campus issues.

You grabbed a Modelo. Ale’s old go to and one you’d gotten used to drinking. It left a familiar warm feeling in your stomach.

You drank, you danced, you ate s’mores, you laughed with your new friends. The stars seemed so bright and clear out here. Janie had you all lay out on your backs in the grass nearby as she pointed out each constellation.

“That’s the big dipper and above it is the little dipper but Draco is the constellation between them. If you guys tell me your star signs I can point it out for you.”

There was laughter nearby and you glanced up to see Johnny and Ceilidh sneaking in the dark towards her cabin.

You had another beer. And another. Maybe one more after that.

Someone offered you a hit off a joint so you did that too.

The four of you were laughing and stumbling back to Sophia’s cabin. You had no idea how late it was. The fire was dying out. Warren said he would make sure everyone got back inside all right. The designated driver of drunken counselors. He was a good guy.

You found yourself laying on your side on one of the empty beds. Sophia and Janie were on her bed, half asleep against each other. Nat and you were talking about your childhoods.

“I broke a bone three years in a row, each time in May. I missed field day every time. My mom once pulled me around in a wagon so I wouldn’t feel left out,” She laughed.

“How did you break so many bones?”

“Catholic school where the playground was just a parking lot. I was a wild kid. I broke my arm tripping and falling against the priest’s car. I dented it too. I thought I was going to hell.”

There was a shrill noise. Loud and stomach dropping. A scream cut off. You and the other girls all jumped to attention. It was silent except for the crackling of the fire outside.

“Fisher cat.” Janie said, trying to convince herself.

“Or a fox.” Sophia added.

“Did you guys hear that?” Warren said, coming in.

The four of you nodded.

“It sounded close. I’m gonna check it out.”

“By yourself?”

“One of the other guys is gonna come with me. It’s probably just an animal. If you see Johnny tell him to go check on everyone. I want a headcount before we all go to sleep.”

You all watched from the window as Warren met another guy holding a flashlight and a baseball bat. Sophia turned on the porch light. They disappeared between the cabin’s across the way.

“Johnny and Celilidh went off together. Should we try to find them?” Sophia offered.

“Maybe we should just stay here. Safety in numbers.” Janie answered.

“Safety from what? It was just an animal.” Nat insisted.

“Didn’t sound like an animal.” You thought. No one else would say it but you were all thinking it. A slide show of clips from horror films played through your mind.

Four sets of eyes darted around, looking out windows and the front door, waiting for some masked killer to seep through the walls.

Bang!

You all screamed as Johnny flew through the door, clutching his stomach.

“We have to go now!” He grunted. Blood was pouring between his fingers.

“Oh my god. What happened? Where’s Ceilidh?”

“Dead… fuck.. She’s fucking dead. Fucker came in through the window in the bathroom. I tried to fight him off. I’m sorry.” He gulped. “We have to go now!”

“You’re bleeding. Please let me look.” Janie reached out and he pushed her hand away.

“Don’t have time. We have to go. Get my car keys. I can fit us all.”

“What about everyone else?” You asked. There was so much blood, it was dripping on the floor now.

“I don’t know… when..when’s the last time you saw anyone?”

There was another scream from outside. Silence took you over again.

“Please… we can get out and get help but we have to go now.” Johnny pleaded. His bright blue eyes were watery and his tan skin was stained red down his legs.

“I’m going.” Sophia said, grabbing her backpack. “Fuck this. I’m not fucking dying like it’s a movie. We’re all going. Johnny, do you need help?”

“No, I can manage. I need to get my keys though.”

“I have mine. We can just take my car. It’s an SUV.” Sophia urged, crouching down to look out of the door.

“No…no…I…I uh…I have a gun in my car.”

“You brought a fucking gun to camp?” Nat’s jaw dropped.

“Old shotgun. It works. I’m trained for this. Get to the car and I… I can kill him.”

“You’re bleeding out, Johnny.” Janie cried, reaching for him again and once again being pushed away.

“Come with me.” Johnny looked at you.

“I…I…I don’t know.” You were shaking. It didn’t seem real. Too cliche. A real life spree killer running around the woods of a Summer camp. Sophia was right, you didn’t want to die like it was some movie.

“He knows I’m weak. He’ll go after me first. We’ll get my keys and if he shows up… you take them and run.”

“You..can’t sacrifice yourself.” Your voice warbled.

“It was my job to do that. If I can’t die saving my country, I’d like to die saving a group of pretty girls.”

Johnny was pleading. He seemed to know he couldn’t do it on his own. You thought about Ale saying you needed to stand up for yourself more. You never did. You didn’t stand up to bullies in high school, rogue professors in college or shitty demeaning bosses. You didn’t even stand up for yourself when Ale said he wanted a break.

Nat was saying how you should all just run to Sophia’s car. She had her keys. Sophia was agreeing. Janie was crying silently.

“I’ll go.” You forced the words out like vomit. It was that or actual vomit.

“Okay.” He almost smiled. “Sophia, turn off the lights. We’ll give you a signal when it's safe to come out. Then we all run to the parking lot.”

“What’s the signal?” Janie sobbed.

“I’ll whistle.”

You were shaking so much you worried you’d fall right down the front steps of the cabin. Johnny was in front of you, shoulders hunched up, his eyes darting everywhere. Sophia turned off the lights, leaving the two of you in near darkness. The fire was nothing more than orange smoldering logs.

“You seem like you’ve done this before.” You said quietly, finding yourself holding the bottom hem of his shirt.

“Like I said. It was my job.”

You walked on your tiptoes, trying not to make any noise. Your heart cried for the others. Even if you didn’t know them. You didn’t hear or see anyone. Maybe they all got out? They escaped already…or the killer was chasing them deeper into the woods.

You didn’t want to die. In the movies it always seemed so prolonged. The stabbings and bleeding out. Johnny had been hurt and he was still going on, trying to save you and everyone else.

“Stay here. I’ll go check to make sure it's clear.” He said. You’d made it to his cabin, whole body still shaking just on his porch now. Your heart leapt into your throat as the door creaked open.

“Be careful, please.”

He winked at you before heading in. You picked at the skin around your nails, a nasty old habit that you tried so hard to kick. You could forgive yourself for this relapse. It seemed an appropriate time to scratch out anxiety.

The step behind you creaked. Any light from the fire was blocked out. A arm wrapped around your neck and pulled you flush with a wall of muscle. You screamed for Johnny as a knife cut into your stomach.

It hurt worse than you thought it would. He was stabbing you over and over. All those movies and none prepared you for the sound that came from being stabbed yourself. The rush of blood in your head. You kicked and scratched the best you could, catching the gap of skin between his gloves and sleeves. Flesh caught under your nails and tore. The knife cut sideways across your stomach. Something wet and heavy hit the floor by your feet.

“Fucking cunt.” The man growled. You could have thrown up if it didn’t feel like your stomach had been torn open.

You hit the porch face first, no strength left to even try to hold yourself up. Blood pooled in your mouth. He stepped around you and in the corner of your eye you could make him out.

Large, well over six feet and bulky with large shoulders. A half skull mask covered the top part of his face. His head was buzzed. He had a hunting knife in his hand and it dripped your blood onto the wood and onto your face.

“Johnny!” Your killer called. You’d doomed him too. He could have gotten away. Johnny would die and it would be your fault. They all would now and it was your fault.

You closed your eyes as the throbbing subsided. You didn’t want to listen. He was so nice. He didn’t deserve it.

You didn’t deserve this.

You closed your eyes and let yourself slip away.

You heard music. Loud obnoxious music and singing from an off key baritone scot.

You opened your eyes and you were in your sleeping bag in your cabin. It was Sunday morning again.

Shout out to @ceilidho for being an inspiration to me to write darker fics and letting me use her name for a counselor.

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pickingupmymercedes · 2 months

Text

Your future was Ferrari - Part 1/?

Part 2

summary: She was finally making her dreams come true, but as the old saying goes "when it rains, it pours" and maybe the nudge Charles gave her might get her somewhere she would never find on her own.

pairing: Lewis Hamilton x Reader!

warnings: mild mature content, alchool consumption, mentions of sexual activies

Also, wrap it before you tap it

wordcount: +3K

a/n: It's my birthday!!! So, naturally you guys get something as a gift. This is my first ever series, and gosh, it's so hard to coordinate it. Also huge thanks to @mysticworks for the plot, I'm gonna milk this one.

As always, I'm open for feedback, come say hi!

MILD CONTENT UNDER, -18 PROCEED WITH CAUTION.

______________________________________________________________

The fireworks in the Abu Dhabi night sky painted the picture as the 2023 Formula 1 season came to an end. The Yas Marina Circuit buzzed with activity as teams packed up and exchanged congratulations and goodbyes. Amidst the hustle and bustle, the end-of-season official celebration promised a night to celebrate the ending and the beginnings of cycles.

As you stood at the entrance to the lavish venue, your heart pounded with excitement and nerves. You tried smoothing down your pants but the wrinkles kept showing up, almost as if to annoy you, a touch of nervousness fluttering in your stomach as you whispered to yourself, “I do not belong in this type of party.” But this wasn't just any celebration; it was the culmination of a year's hard work and dedication. And tonight, you had an added reason to celebrate – you were finally moving to Ferrari, after years of dedication, fulfilling yours and your father’s dream in the red team.

Stepping foot in the main event’s room, your eyes scanned the crowd, searching for a familiar face. Just when you started having second guesses, you saw him – Charles Leclerc, an old friend and colleague from your days at Alpha Romeo. A smile spread across your face as his eyes met yours in the crowd and he motioned for you to come closer.

"Charles!" your voice filled with warmth and a hint of relief at finding someone familiar.

“You made it!" He answered, pulling you into a tight hug. "I knew you wouldn't miss this."

You laughed, now finally breathing in a bit calmer. "Wouldn't miss it for the world."

As you made your way into the party, Charles filled you in with stories from the season and introduced you to everyone he could find dressed in red. The atmosphere was electric, filled with laughter, music, and the clinking of glasses.

A few drinks in, Charles grinned mischievously at you. "I dare you to go and hit on Lewis."

Your eyes widened in surprise. "You must be joking?" Charles grin only widening. "Come on, it'll be fun, you’ve had the biggest crush on him since forever, give it a go!"

You were high, so incredibly high at that point, much like everyone else in that club. But one very clear thought took over: Lewis didn’t know you and besides, what was the worst it could happen, a rejection?!

So, taking a deep breath and fueling a mix of “screw it” and liquid courage, you approached Lewis Hamilton, a god to the sport you loved so dearly.

"Hi, are you really a race car driver? You’ve been driving me crazy all night" you said, extending your hand with a playful smile.

"Okay, that was actually a good one. I'm Lewis," he replied, handing out his hand for you to shake with a smile that made your heart skip a beat.

“Was it?” You bursted with laughter, clearly amazed he was actually charmed by your cheesy pickup line.

“That, and you’re really hot, miss…?” His intense gaze on you as his hands reached to touch your waist just so slightly, almost as if asking for your name was actually him asking for permission to touch you.

“Oh right, I’m y/n”

“Would you give me the honor of dancing with you?”

“Can’t really say no to a sir, can I?!” the playfull banter you intended igniting something is his eyes that you almost didn’t catch, but that changed the relaxed energy between you two.

As you danced with and around Lewis, you two continued to charm each other, the connection between you undeniable, and the chemistry palpable, but still, only touches were really there. You were hyper aware of his hands dancing across your body but not once did he motioned to bring his lips anywhere near you.

In those hours you never once talked about Formula 1, notreally interested in that part of him anyway, you wanted to get to know the person behind all the success, not the figure the world got to see weekend in and out.

“I need to go in a few minutes, but hm... would you like to go on a date with me, tomorrow afternoon? I promise to surprise you” His question caught you by surprise, he didn’t really show any interest in seeing you privately, at least not in the way you thought he would, but the gleam in his big dark eyes made it impossible for you to deny him.

“I’d love to” You moved to get your phone so he could put his number but he stopped dead “I don’t do phone number, love. Let me get you to your hotel tonight, I’ll be sure to pick you tomorrow”

You hesitated for a moment, secrecy a huge red flag for you, but then again, it wasn’t anyone, it was Lewis and he had every reason under the sun to be like that.

So, you got into the Mercedes waiting for him at the back entrance, his friends in a different car already heading to their own hotel, just you, him and the crazy tension that could be cut with a knife between the two of you.

“Be ready by 16:00, wear something light.”

“Where are you taking me, Lewis?”

“I do hope you’re just as courageous as you were approaching me today” And with that he left a soft kiss to your temple before you could even think about an answer. Getting out of car without really understanding where you had gotten yourself into.

The anticipation was palpable as you waited in the lobby of your hotel. Your heart raced with a blend of excitement and nervous energy, each passing second amplifying your anticipation. The surroundings of the hotel lobby seemed oddly out of place with the adventure that Lewis had promised you. The juxtaposition was not lost on you – here you were, waiting to be picked up by a global superstar, for an adventure you knew nothing about in a fancy lobby of a hotel in Abu Dhabi.

When Lewis pulled up, driving himself, clad in shorts and a t-shirt, the surreal nature of the situation hit you even harder. The sight of him, so casually dressed and behind the wheel, added a layer of authenticity that momentarily caught you off guard. This wasn't the man the world knew; this was Lewis, the person, taking a genuine interest in sharing an adventure with you.

"Hey, ready for this?" Lewis greeted you with a warm smile as you climbed into the car.

"Still don’t know what for, but let’s do this" you replied, trying to mask your excitement with casual ease, earning a chuckle from him.

As Lewis maneuvered through the streets, he made small talk in an attempt to break the mounting tension. His easygoing demeanor and genuine interest in getting to know you better were both disarming and endearing. You found yourself gradually relaxing, the initial awkwardness dissipating with each passing moment.

"So, have you ever done anything like this before?" Lewis asked, casting a sideways glance at you.

"Getting into a date I know nothing about, with a dude that could be potently trying to kidnap me?! Nah, this will be my first time" you mused, seeing how his features lightened the more you opened up.

A thoughtful pause followed before Lewis blurted out "I thought skydiving would be fun."

Your heart leapt with joy at his words. The exhilaration you had been feeling was now tinged with elation. Skydiving had always been on your bucket list, a dream you had yet to fulfill. And here was Lewis, suggesting it as if he had read your mind.

"No way? I've always wanted to try skydiving!" you exclaimed, unable to contain your excitement any longer.

Lewis grinned, his eyes sparkling with a mix of mischief, excitement and relief "Well then, today's your lucky day."

Upon arriving at the skydiving center, the adrenaline was palpable. The vibrant energy of the place was contagious, and the sight of the vast blue sky served as a stark reminder of the adventure that lay ahead. Lewis led you towards the instructor who would guide you through the process.

"Alright, let's get you geared up," the instructor began, laying out the parachute and harness. He proceeded to give you a detailed briefing on safety protocols and what to expect during the jump. As the instructor demonstrated the proper techniques and emphasized safety precautions, you couldn't help but feel nervousness. Lewis, ever attentive, kept casting side glances your way, his eyes filled with concern and curiosity.

Just before gearing up, Lewis pulled you aside, his gaze locking onto yours. "Are you okay with this? Are you still excited?" his genuine concern evident in his voice. However, you couldn't contain your excitement, a wide grin spreading across your face as you reassured him "Absolutely! I can't wait!"

Lewis smiled; his relief palpable. "Alright, let's do this." With a final check of the equipment and a nod of approval from the instructor, you and Lewis found yourselves boarding the plane. The anticipation built with each passing moment as the plane ascended, the ground below becoming increasingly distant.

As you reached the desired altitude the plane's door opened, revealing the vast expanse of the sky below. The rush of wind and the sheer height were both exhilarating and intimidating. Locked in tandem with your instructor and Lewis paired with his, you prepared to take the leap. And then the world around you turned into a blur of colors and sensations. The initial rush was overwhelming, but as you acclimated to the sensation of freefalling, a profound realization began to form in the back of your mind.

Upon landing safely back on solid ground, a brief silence enveloped you. The gravity of the experience left you momentarily speechless, lost in thought. Noticing your quiet demeanor, Lewis approached you, his concern evident. "Did you enjoy it?" he asked softly.

"It was... intense. I'm still processing it." You hesitated, trying to find the right words. Lewis nodded, sensing there was more you weren't sharing. "Is everything okay? You seem a bit lost in thought."

At first, you brushed off his concern with a simple, "It's nothing." But Lewis, ever perceptive, gently pressed on as you got back to the car, his hands reaching for yours encouraging you to open up. Taking a deep breath, you finally confessed, "The jump made me question how little humankind really was, how vast and boundless the world truly is."

A smile spread across Lewis's face, his features almost successfully hiding the happiness that you had gotten the point he tried to show everyone "It has a way of putting things into perspective, doesn't it?"

The drive back to your hotel was quiet, the tension palpable in the confined space of the car. The city lights began to paint fleeting shadows across Lewis's face as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm, golden glow. His tattooed hands gripped the steering wheel tightly, his focus split between the road ahead and fleeting glances in your direction.

"Would you like to grab something to eat? I don't want to let you go just yet," Lewis ventured, his voice laced with a subtle reluctance, yet an underlying desire.

Your eyes met his, a playful glint shimmering in your gaze as you assessed the situation. His profile, illuminated by the soft dashboard light, was a stark reminder of his reputation and allure.

"Sure, where to, then?" you replied, your voice light and teasing, yet laced with a hint of challenge.

Lewis chuckled, his lips curling into a knowing smile, the glint in his eyes intensifying. "It’s gonna sound so pretentious, but my hotel has this amazing pasta."

A soft laugh escaped your lips as you leaned back, the thrill of the moment coursing through your veins. Of course, that's where the evening was headed. He was Lewis Hamilton, after all, a man known for his lavish tastes and adventurous spirit. You'd heard the stories, the tales of his countless escapades and magnetic allure. You were just another name on his list, a fleeting encounter in the grand tapestry of his life.

Yet, as the playful banter continued, a sense of pride and daring took hold. If you were destined to be just a footnote in his story, why not make it memorable? Why not enjoy the moment and embrace the excitement?

"It sounds as indulgent as you think, but I'd love to spend a bit more time with you," you replied, your voice dripping with playful mischief. Your fingers reached out, brushing against his hand that rested on the console between you, feeling the warmth and strength of his grip, a silent acknowledgment of the mutual attraction and intrigue that simmered beneath the surface.

As Lewis parked the car and led you towards his suite, the atmosphere was thick with anticipation. The soft lighting and luxurious rooms added to the intensity of the moment, casting a romantic glow that heightened your senses.

Once in his suite, Lewis turned to face you, his eyes searching yours with a mix of desire and uncertainty. "Are you sure about this?" he asked, his voice low and husky. "I want to make sure you're comfortable."

Your heart raced as you met his gaze, captivated by the sincerity and respect in his eyes. Despite the playful banter, daring adventure and certainty you held that you were a hook up, Lewis's concern for your well-being was there and it shocked you for a bit.

With a shy smile, you nodded, your voice steady yet filled with anticipation. "Yes, I'm sure," you replied, your words also echoing the desire you felt. The tension was palpable as Lewis leaned in, closing the distance between you. The world around fading as his lips met yours. His hands found their way to your waist, pulling you closer so you could really feel him.

The sensation of his lips against yours sent shivers down your spine, the chemistry between you undeniable. The intensity of the kiss deepened, the boundaries between playful banter and genuine connection blurring as you both surrendered to whatever it was that made him so incredibly irresistible.

As you both pulled apart, catching your breath from the intensity of the moment, a playful smirk crossed your lips, a thought crossing your mind.

"Do you have a condom?" you asked, your voice filled with anticipation. Lewis's eyes widened slightly at your forwardness, a hint of surprise flashing across his face before a confident grin replaced it. Without a word, he reached for his pack on his backpack, pulling out a condom and holding it up for you to see.

"Of course, you'd have packs with you," you mused, your voice dripping with playful mischief and a hint of mistrust. The allure of the moment, the intensity of the connection, and the thrill of the unexpected encounter had led you both to this point, and you, for sure, wouldn’t turn back now.

Before you could say another word, Lewis silenced you with another passionate kiss, the intensity of the moment deepening as he pulled you close. His hands found their way to your waist, lifting you effortlessly and carrying you towards the bed. The soft fabric of the sheets beneath you, the warmth of Lewis's embrace, and the intimacy of the moment combined to create a sense desire that was intoxicating.

He was going to be yours, if only for one night. And in that moment, there was nothing more you could wish for.

As the first light of dawn hit the curtains, the sound of running water from the shower echoed in the room. The luxurious suite was bathed in a soft glow, the remnants of past night still lingering in the air. You stirred from your sleep, the sheets tangled around you, Lewis's scent lingering on every fabric, surface and memory. The night before played in your mind, a mix of passion, connection, and lust that had led to a whirlwind of emotions.

With a sigh, you sat up, the reality of the situation settling in. You knew that this was a fling, a one-night stand. Despite the intensity and allure of the shared moments, you were aware of the nature of what had happened.

Gathering your belongings quietly, you moved with ease, ensuring that nothing was left behind. The weight of the morning, filled with the silence and anticipation of how you were about to leave, added to the bittersweet nature of the encounter.

As you slipped out of the room, the sound of the shower continued, the steam and warmth of the bathroom contrasting with the cool, early morning air. The suite was filled with what if’s and wishes, mostly yours, mainly yours. The thrown-out pieces of clothing a reminder of something you were meant to never see again.

With a final glance back, you stepped out into the hallway, the memories of the shared moments and the intensity of the connection lingering in your mind as you closed the door behind you. You brushed those feelings aside though, telling yourself that this was for the best. You had to protect your heart, guard against any attachment. After all, Lewis Hamilton was Lewis Hamilton, a superstar in the world of Formula 1. And you were just an engineer, living out your dream but still feeling out of your league.

Surely, it meant nothing for Lewis and you would probably never see him again. Your future was at Ferrari, somewhere he would never step foot in.

Or would he?!

______________________________________________________________

TAGLIST - @saturnssunflower @xoscar03 @chocolatediplomatdreamerzonk @happy-golden-hour

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#lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton x you #lewis hamilton imagine #f1 x reader #lewis hamilton #f1 imagine #formula 1

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xzaddyzanakinx · 7 months

Text

| So, So, Right | pt. 2

Stepbro! Anakin x innocent reader

18+ MDNI

Warnings: eventual smut, inappropriate relationships, make out sesh, reader has oral fixation

Info: Modern AU, Anakin is whipped, Anakin literally worships the ground you walk on, reader is accidentally a brat, Anakin is conflicted, NOT PROOFREAD

You were impatiently waiting for Anakin at the front door at 5:00 pm sharp, your makeup retouched and your hair up in an elegantly smooth ponytail. A small scrap of white satin tied in a bow covered your ponytail holder, you’d left your clothes on from earlier just in case Anakin came home yucky, you didn’t want to get your nice clothes dirty.

“What are you doing?” Your mom came up behind you, a mason jar of ice water clinking in her hands.

“I’m waiting for Ani. He’s gonna take me to the movies!” You turned around quickly to flash a big smile at her.

“What are you gonna see?” She slipped her arm in yours and pulled you to the couch, “sit down, standing over there isn’t gonna make him show up any faster.” She laughed.

“I dunno, whatever he wants I guess.” You shrugged, picking at the hem of your shirt.

“You know, I’m proud of you.” Your mom said softly. “I was really worried that you two wouldn’t get along.”

“What? Why?” You scoffed.

“Well you’ve been an only child your whole life and so has he. Sometimes it’s hard to adjust to a new family structure.” She patted your knee.

“Well I don’t think it’s been hard, I love him, he’s my favorite!” You grinned.

“You’re too sweet for your own good.” Your mom laughed, smiling widely as she heard Anakin’s truck pulling into the drive way.

Your feet hit the ground immediately, pushing open the glass storm door and waiting for him on the porch. His white shirt was discolored and put his jeans had stayed spotless, you assumed he probably took them off to wear his work clothes. He slammed the truck door shut, bobbing his head to the beat of whatever song he’d been listening to moments earlier.

He jogged up the front steps and held his hand out to stop you from running up to him. He grinned at your pout and furrowed brows, giving a light chuckle at your reaction.

“Look at me, you don’t want this all over you do ya?” He gestured to his stained shirt and grease streaked arms.

“I don’t care!” You rolled your eyes, a slight smile creeping up your lips when he bent down with his hands behind his back to give you a chaste kiss on your forehead.

“C’mon. Gotta shower.” He opened the glass door and ushered you inside with a gentle pat to your ass.

“Ani!” Your mom greeted him with an awkward smile, a bit of confusion in her eyes.

Anakin’s breath caught in his throat, - did she see that? -

“Hey Satine.” Anakin swallowed his guilt laced worries and smoothed the situation over with his charming smile. “I’m gonna go get cleaned up.” He thumbed over his shoulder to the stairway, before jogging up to your shared bathroom.

You walked to the kitchen, grabbing a cup of grape juice for yourself and a can of Pepsi for Anakin. Your mom following closely, her anxious demeanor went unnoticed by you.

“Gotta go get changed.” You said as you slipped past her.

“Knock knock.” You said playfully as you entered your room, seeing the bathroom door wide open and the steam coming from the shower.

Receiving no answer you hummed to yourself while you sat down your drinks, turning to your neatly made bed and seeing a cute light pink summer dress, clean white cotton underwear, a pink bralette and some white sandals. You smiled to yourself, loving when Anakin chose your clothes for you.

You slipped out of your dirty clothes and into your clean ones, stepping into the dress just as Anakin was walking out of the bathroom with a towel hung low on his waist.

“Is that okay?” He questioned, making sure you’d be comfortable wearing the outfit he’d picked.

“You always pick the perfect thing.” You smiled, pulling your ponytail over your shoulder and spinning around so Anakin could zip your dress.

He ran his knuckles down your spine on their way to your zipper, sending cold chills through you. You giggled at the sensation and pulled your shoulders up to your ears when his plump lips made contact with the nape of your neck.

“Gorgeous.” He clicked his tongue, eyes roaming your figure.

He turned on his heel, going to his room to get clothes on. He dropped his towel about halfway through the bathroom, leaving him completely bare. He didn’t even turn around to acknowledge what he had done, you blushed as an unfamiliar feeling bloomed in your stomach. You shyly looked anywhere but his open door, that is until he came strolling in, focused on buckling his belt.

“How d’ya think I look?” He did a little twist in place to show off his nice casual clothes. Non-ripped black jeans, black vans and a black&red flannel with a Minor Threat shirt underneath.

Giving him two thumbs up and a big smile you bounded over to him, stopping right in front of him. He leaned down a kissed each side of your mouth, pulling back to smile softly as he stared at your lips.

“How come you never kiss me for real?” You asked, Anakin seemed a bit taken aback by this.

“Do you want me to?” He leaned in closer, noses brushing together.

“Yes.” You smiled, closing the distance between you.

Your lips meeting in a gentle embrace. His velvety smooth lips caressing yours in an intimately cute dance. You could feel him trying to stave off a smile and it sent a shiver down your spine that made you giggle.

“What’s so funny?” He pulled back grinning.

“Nothing!” You squeaked, feeling warmth forming at the apex of your thighs.

You felt a bit shy, so you just quietly held out your hand for him to take. Which he of course did, pulling you to the door and down the stairs at breakneck speed, catching his breath on the bottom step with a laugh.

“Need some cash?” Obi-Wan asked, not looking up from his book on the couch. “Satine said you’re going out?”

“Nah I’ve got it covered.” Anakin said, flicking his wrist in a wave at his dad.

“Be safe.” Obi-Wan peered over his book from under his glasses.

“Always are, aren’t we bunny?” Anakin teased, playing with the ‘ears’ on your satin bow.

You giggled and agreed, making your way to the front door and into Anakin’s truck in no time at all. Anakin beat you there to open the door for you, waiting until you had buckled your seatbelt before closing the door and climbing in his side. His warm hand resting on your knee, squeezing lightly as he backed out of the drive way.

“Took a bit longer than I thought,” he hummed, “Sonic okay? I don’t think we have time for a restaurant.” He tapped the clock on the radio.

“Yeah, ‘course.” You agreed as he pulled up to a stall to order your food. You were just happy to be here with him.

A vanilla milkshake and a whole load of tater tot’s later you were making your way through the ticket line at the movies, settling for something scary. Anakin always teased that you weren’t ‘big enough’ to handle horror movies, and you wanted to prove him wrong.

“I promise. I won’t get freaked out like last time!” You tugged on his shirt sleeve while he laughed.

“Sure. Sure. Just don’t come crying to me when you get scared.” He said semi-sternly.

“Fine.” You crossed your arms, feelings a bit squished thinking that he might’ve been serious.

“Baby, I’m only kidding. You know that.” He pulled you into his chest with a possessive tug at your hip.

“I know.” You answered quietly, collecting your tickets from the man at the counter.

“Let’s go find a good seat m’kay?” He pulled you along, his arm thrown across your shoulders.

He led you to the top row, the theater was sparse compared to what you expected. The movie had been out for at least two weeks but you didn’t expect it to be so empty. You clapped excitedly, loving that you practically had the whole place to yourselves.

Anakin lifted the armrest between your seats so you could lean over on him, lifting his arm up so you could comfortably wiggle into place. His arm around you lowered until he had a firm grip on your upper thigh, his thumb in the crease where your leg met your hip, his long fingers squeezing the soft flesh of your ass.

That warm feeling crept back up into your stomach, sending a shiver down your legs. Anakin noticed, smirking to himself before twisting to pepper your hair with kisses.

The movie started off slow, but as it went on the gruesome violence was starting to get to you. You tucked yourself up under his arm, hiding your face in his chest.

“Is it too much babydoll?” He whispered, his breath ghosting you ear.

You shook your head, not wanting to admit defeat. “No, just tell me when the killer is gone.”

A few seconds later Anakin gave you the okay signal and your head popped back up to see the bloody aftermath on screen. It was enough to make you nauseous, you closed your eyes and swallowed, refusing to give in to your silly childlike fear.

You squeaked and sunk back into his chest, feeling his chest rumble as he held back a chuckle.

“My poor girl.” He tutted, stroking your cheek softly. “Do you want to go?”

“No!” You pouted.

“There’s no shame in being scared babe. It’s called a horror movie for a reason.” He squeezed your cheeks to puff out your lips, making you giggle.

“I can do it. It’s almost done.” You nodded, sneaking your thumb into your mouth. Chewing the skin on the sides of your fingernail. As stupid as it was, it was comforting to you. At this point you didn’t care if Anakin thought it was weird, you just needed to calm yourself.

He watched from the corner of his eye, your lips wrapped around your digit made his cock twitch.

“Princess?” He whispered softly, his hand not occupied by your ass cheek came to tilt your face toward his.

Sullenly you removed your thumb and gave him a shame faced smile. Afraid he’d be judgmental, your eyes widened as he swiped his thumb over your bottom lip. His gaze never left yours as he slipped the pad of his thumb past your lips and slid it gently across your tongue in massaging circles.

“That better baby doll?” He asked, his voice husky as he shifted in his seat.

Something about the way he asked you this, or maybe something about the way he looked at you had you feeling that warm tingly feeling in your stomach again. You hummed in agreement against his thumb, earning a little grunt from his throat. He crossed and uncrossed his legs as he tried to get comfortable again, his dick straining in his jeans.

You spent the rest of the movie just like this, Anakin’s thumb caressing your tongue and his other hand migrated under the hem of your dress, trailing lightly up and down your thigh.

As the credits rolled you unfurled from Anakin’s embrace, reluctantly standing up to stretch. Anakin laced your fingers with his yours and led you down the steps and too the main foyer of the theater.

“Hey!” Someone called your name and your head spun in search of the source.

A hand waving frantically caught your attention and you squinted to properly see their face. Joshua, a student from one of your Gen. Ed. classes made his way toward you.

“Who’s this?” Anakin asked, his hand tightening around yours.

“A boy from school!” You said, dragging him behind you.

“Josh! This is Anakin, Anakin, Josh.” The boys nodded toward each other, gauging the other reluctantly.

“How’s your summer?” Josh asked, choosing to ignore Anakin completely.

“Oh it’s good, Ani just started a new job, we’re out celebrating!” You looked up at Anakin proudly, resting your hand on his chest.

“Oh. Nice.” Josh grumbled, “he your boyfriend?”

Anakin opened his mouth to speak but you interrupted. “No silly, he’s my stepbrother. Remember? I told you my mom was getting remarried.”

Anakin’s arm slithered around your waist, pulling you back into him. Tilting your head back to kiss your lips with a devilish grin plastered on his face. You were too busy gazing up at Anakin to noticed the flash of disgust travel across Josh’s face.

“Alright, Josh,” Anakin mumbled, “gotta get my pretty girl home don’t I?”

“Mhm, okay Ani.” You smiled, waving in the general direction of josh, completely unaware that he had made a fast exit after Anakin’s display of affection.

“I didn’t like that guy.” Anakin sighed as he ushered you into the truck.

“Why? He’s always been nice.” You asked.

“He seems off. I think it’s best if you keep your distance princess.” Anakin smoothed your dress before buckling you in. “I just wanna keep you safe.”

“I know, I trust you.” You smiled.

“Good girl.” Anakin grinned, closing the door and making his way to his side.

The ride home was quiet as you watched the night sky twinkle with the stars, streetlights flickering and porch lights turning on. The pavement gave way to gravel as Anakin pulled into the drive way. Suddenly then air felt a bit thicker when he clicked the release on your seatbelt, you turned to him, his face just inches from yours.

“Let me try something okay princess?” He breathed, “c’mere.”

He pulled you into him, one hand on the nape of your neck and one hand pressing against your lower back.

Tentatively he dipped down, eyes flicking from yours to your lips before he dove in and pressed his mouth to yours. In comparison to the sweet kisses you’d shared earlier, this was rougher, more passionate. The aggressiveness of it had you gasping for air and Anakin’s tongue slowly pushed against yours, exploring your mouth slowly, making sure to memorize your taste. Reluctantly he pulled back, your lips chasing his until he gripped your neck firmly.

“You have no idea what that does to me.” He palmed himself, shifting his cock to fit more comfortably, turning your head away when you tried to watch what he was doing.

You whimpered into his mouth as he captured you in another devouring kiss, this time you moved your tongue in sync with his. Earning a moan that rumbled from his throat to your lips. He paused, as if considering something, before cupping your face in both hands and tilting your head back.

His lips left yours to place a sloppy open mouthed kiss to your throat. Taking note of the way you clenched your thighs tightly together and leaned into him, a pleased smirk on his face when he pulled back.

“Let’s get you inside before I… well let’s get you inside.” He chuckled to himself.

Your head too fuzzy to even question him about his odd statement.

“Hop up here baby doll.” Anakin tapped the bathroom sink. Bringing a washcloth to your face to remove your makeup for you.

Brushing your hair and braiding it down your back for you. He placed your toothbrush in your hand and brought your hand up to your mouth. Encouraging you to go ahead and start brushing your teeth while he went into his room.

“You can wear this tonight,” he laid one of his sleep shirts next to you on the counter.

“Spit.” He held a cup to your lips for you to spit your toothpaste into, rinsing it out and filling it with a bit of water for you to rinse the residue out with.

“All done.” He smiled, lifting you up by your hips and standing you in front of him, unzipping your dress slowly, placing his shirt in your hands.

“Go ahead, I’ll turn around.” He smiled, turning on his heels and dramatically covering his eyes.

You let the dress fall to the floor and kicked it aside, removing the bralette and pulling his shirt over your head. Leaving you in just his shirt and your underwear. You tapped his shoulder and he turned his head to nip at your fingers just to hear you squeal.

“Climb up in bed baby doll.” He ushered you into your room, peeling back the covers for you to crawl under.

He dropped his jeans to the floor, and slipped his shirt over his head. His toned stomach stretching as he lifted his arms over his head. He crawled in after you, pulling a book off your nightstand to start reading.

“Just one chapter tonight okay?” He yawned, petting your cheek as you laid on his bare chest.

“Okay.” You nodded, fiddling with a loose string on his boxers.

Anakin tried his best to ignore your fingers brushing against the sensitive skin on his waist. He was quickly becoming flustered, your hand so close to his crotch while you were completely unaware of what you were doing to him. Your touches getting heavier as you felt sleep creeping in, the back of your hand grazing across his half hard length. He jerked unexpectedly and caused you to stir.

“Are you okay?” Your head shot up worriedly.

“Yeah ‘course. Just a little jumpy.” He smiled, a light blush across his nose.

“Did I hurt you?” You asked, this time purposely dragging your fingers over the same spot to see if he reacted again.

Anakin did in fact react to your touch, a muffled groan slipped out and he tried to cover it up with a cough as he shut the book. He gently moved your hand up his abdomen, looking down at you with obvious conflict in his eyes. You didn’t understand, you just recognized that he was uncomfortable as he grabbed at his crotch and repositioned himself with a grunt.

“No you didn’t hurt me.” He smiled, “just- just a little sensitive there.”

“M’sorry Ani.” Your eyebrows furrowed as you looked up from his chest, playing with the hairs between his bellybutton and the waistband of his boxers.

“Don’t be sorry, you didn’t know baby doll.” He leaned down and cupped your face in his large hands. Rubbing his nose against yours before giving you a peck on each cheek.

“Goodnight princess.” Anakin stood, pressing his lips to his thumb and swiping it across your bottom lip.

“Night Ani.” You whispered as Anakin turned out your light and left to his room.

Anakin laid awake, his cock throbbing and his mind spinning. Finally he sighed, deciding he needed some relief. Slowly he palmed himself through his boxers, groaning from the sensitivity of being hard for so long. He closed his eyes, pulling his member free from the tightened fabric, stroking himself languidly as he pictured your lips around his dick like they’d been wrapped around his thumb earlier.

Just as his legs stiffened and the hot coil in his stomach snapped he heard the pitter patter of your footsteps on the cold bathroom tile. His cum coated his palm, he panicked shoving his softening cock back into his boxers. Thinking quickly he slipped his sticky hand beneath the sheets and wiped his palm against the side of the mattress.

“Anakin?” You sniffled, shuffling to his side.

“What is it princess?” Anakin’s face was blood red, his voice shaky.

“Can’t sleep.” You lifted the blankets and forced your way into his bed, pushing him away from the edge so you could take his spot.

“Bad dreams?” He asked quietly, lifting his arm for you to tuck yourself against his bare chest.

“Uh huh.” You nodded, “remember at the movie?”

“What about it baby doll?” He whispered against the shell of your ear, breathing in the scent of your hair.

“Can I?” You looked up at him, batting your eyelashes.

Tentatively you picked up his free hand, bringing it to your lips. He didn’t protest, so you assumed it was okay, his calloused thumb settled on your tongue. Your nose scrunched up, noticing a weird taste on his skin, tangy and salty. You pulled his hand from your mouth and looked up at him quizzically.

“Why’s it taste like that?” You asked, opening his palm and licking a stripe up the rough skin. Collecting the residue on your tongue while Anakin tried his best to hold back a groan as he felt himself getting hard again.

“That’s enough.” He said sternly, pulling his hand back from your eager lips.

“But- what is it? Tastes good.” You pouted.

“Oh god.” He whimpered, shoving his face into his pillow.

“Ani?” You whined, trying to push him to roll over, so you could see his face.

“Just a second baby.” He sounded like he was having trouble breathing, and it worried you.

“No, lemme see.” You demanded, using all your strength to shift his weight so that he was laying on his side.

He still refused to look at you, his bottom lip stuck between his teeth in a vice grip. So you hiked up one leg and tossed it over his hip, using it as leverage while you place your hands on his chest and pushed. You fell on his lower abdomen, the mattress springing beneath you caused you to bounce slightly as you landed on him, your ass settling on his crotch.

His hands quickly came to your hips, gripping you tightly, trying to lift you off of him.

“Babydoll. No.” He warned, but you crossed your arms and shook your head. Further making your point by scooting back, feeling a warmth pulsing beneath you.

A tiny whimper left your lips when you unintentionally rolled your core against him, a streak of lightning rushed through your body that made your eyebrows furrow and Anakin’s hands left your hips to cover his face.

“Fuck. Baby? Baby!” His hands shot out to grab your wrists that were planted firmly on his bare chest. “Remember when I said I’m real sensitive down there?”

“Uh huh.” You nodded, pushing your cunt down on his now rock hard cock.

“God. Please princess I need you to stop.” He groaned, his voice gravely.

His grip on your wrists tightened, squeezing until his fingers dug into your flesh. You tried to shake loose to no avail.

“Let go!” You whined. “Why do I have to stop? Feels good.”

“What?” He squeaked, eyes wide.

“Feels good Ani.” You looked down at him with sad puppy eyes as you rocked against him.

He propped himself up on his elbows, in disbelief at what you’d just said. One hand coming to your cheek in a gentle caress.

“Say that again.” His voice thick with want.

“Feels good Ani. Just let me.” You answered immediately.

“Show me where it feels good, tell me what it feels like.” He tapped your hip to get you to lift off of him.

“Here.” You whimpered as you pressed two fingers against the center of your panties, feeling a wet spot there. “It tingles. It hurts.”

“Do you want me to help? I can make it better.” His hand left your cheek and slithered around the back of your neck, waiting for your answer.

“Please?” You nodded feverishly, the air being knocked out of you when Anakin flipped you onto your back.

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#anakin skywalker #anakin smut #anakin x reader #star wars anakin #sw anakin #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin x you #darth vader #darth vader smut #star wars #anakin fanfiction #anakin skywalker x you #anakin skywalker x reader smut #anakin skywalker fanfiction #star wars fanfiction #starwars fandom #anakin x fem reader #darth vader x you #darth vader x reader

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f0point5 · 9 days

Note

Omg pleaseeeeee do max and very very drunk Emilia. I feel like she is a very funny, dramatic, uncoordinated, extremely uncooperative drunk Lolol

Andddd we’re back. Because that quali deeply upset me and I needed a bit of comfort. It’s just Max being an absolute cutie really. I hope you like it!!!!

✨Set in the summer of 2022✨

You eyes are liquor, (your) body is gold

Max jolts awake to the sound of his phone buzzing. He’s purposely put it in the ashtray on his beside table so that it would make noise. You said when you’d headed out ride the night that you would get a cab home since Lando would be in no state to drive you, but Max wanted to keep his phone on just in case.

He looks down at the screen. 2:37 AM. It’s a text from Stan. Maybe you’re home already and he didn’t hear you come in.

As if by some metaphysical connection, his phone starts buzzing with a call. Lando’s face lights up the screen.

“Hello?” Max says when he picks up, surprises by how he still sounds asleep. No response comes, only the deafening beat of some pretty aggressive remix of some song he doesn’t like. “Lando?”

“Mate,” Lando shouts, though Max barely hear him. “Thank God. Come and get your girlfriend,”

“She’s not-“

“I don’t care,” the background music quiets down some, Max guesses Lando has made it to the bathroom. “She’s wasted and I’ve just met a Lithuanian gymnast,”

It must be the exhaustion from a full day of sim practice and three phone interviews, but Max’s brain cannot connect the dots in Lando’s sentence “What?” He asks through a yawn.

“Come and get your girlfriend so I can get laid. Now.”

******************************

Max is in the car in five minutes. In fifteen, he’s pulling into the nearest parking spot to the club he can find. His body is still heavy with sleep, not even the can of Red Bull he drank in the car has helped. He gets out and heads towards the door, craning his neck to look for either you or Lando among the hoards of smokers lingering outside.

You’re sitting on the edge of a potted plant outside the building. You’re wearing a gold mini dress covered in crystals, so you’re not exactly hard to notice. A thin sheen of sweat covers your exposed skin. Your hair is a mess. Illuminated by the light spilling from the building behind you, you’re glittering.

When you look up and see him, a tired smile spreads across your lips and you wave.

“Maxy!”

He waves back awkwardly. He can tell even from where he’s standing that you’re wasted by the way your eyes are unfocused and your head is lolling around on your neck. He’s glad he kept his phone on, he wouldn’t want you in a cab in this state.

Beside you is Lando, standing with a blonde bombshell of a woman so perfect looking she must have been designed by a very famous surgeon. Lando catches Max’s eye and winks just as he comes to a stop in front of you.

“Maxy,” this time it’s more of a sigh, a hand running through your hair as your shoulders slump. You look around with a frown. “What are you doing here? Were you here the whole time?” You wave your arm in the direction of the club but the effort seems to tire you.

“No,” Max says, smoothing your hair for you. “I was at home, and now I’m here to take you home,”

“I don’t want to go home,” you whine, crossing your arms over your chest. “I want to go to the beach,”

Max frowns in confusion, looking over at Lando for answer, who just shrugs. Max shakes his head and pulls you to your feet, hooking an arm around your waist to steady you.

“Thank you,” Lando says, rolling his eyes at you. He holds out his fist to Max.

“You,” Max says as he bumps Lando’s fist with his own, “are welcome,”

“Goodnight, my dear,” Lando says, leaning over to give you a sideways hug and a kiss to cheek.

“Tip her well,” you say to Lando, patting his chest as his eyes bulge.

Max coughs to hide his laugh. “Come on, let’s go before you mess something else up,” he says, bracketing you to his side as he begins to steer you towards the car.

“What did I mess up?” You ask, words slurring as you teeter on your heels, legs crossing with every step. “Did I mess up your evening?”

“No,” Max says, squeezing your waist. His night wasn’t ruined, just his sleep schedule.

“Were you like,” you lean closer to him, your voice dropping to a whisper, “masturbating?”

Max chokes on air. “No!” He rasps out, struggling to keep walking. He almost lets go of you out of sheer awkwardness before he remembers you likely need him to remain upright, especially if you’re talking like this.

“Just asking,” you say, and Max has to imagine your eye roll because he absolutely cannot look at you right now. “That’s what I do when you’re not home,”

Add this to the long list of things I did not want to know, Max thinks to himself. He thinks he might never be able to keep sane while out of the house now.

“Your showerhead has this amazing setting-“

Max is almost glad when you trip while stepping off the pavement as he leads you to the passenger side of the car because it makes you stop talking. He knows you prefer the showerhead in his en-suite, he’d been planning to get your bathroom redone so you could have the same one. Oh God. How would it look if he does that now after you’ve said that? How would it look if he doesn’t?

He resolves to never think about that comment ever again.

“Up you go,” he says, guiding you up into the car, one hand on your head in case you don’t duck. Your body flops into the seat and Max tucks your legs in for you. He finds himself a little annoyed with Lando for letting you get in this state.

He peels out of the parking and down the street, yawning as he drives. He watches out of the corner of his eye as you sink down in the seat and turn on the seat heater.

There’s a surprising amount of traffic on the road. But summer in the Petri dish that is Monaco is always too busy.

“Are we going to the beach?” You asks, sliding up to look out of the window.

“No,” Max scoffs at the idea.

“But I said I wanted to go to the beach,” you drawl, a pensive look on your face.

“It’s night time,” Max explains.

“Um,” you narrow your eyes at him like you’re doubting something. “Since when do you not do what I want?”

Max isn’t sure what to say to that. Sure, he can’t remember the last time he said no to something you wanted but that was circumstantial. He wanted you to be happy, and god knows he owed you for all the space he took up in the world. But that didn’t make him a pushover. No, it just made him a good friend.

“I don’t always-“ He starts, but then your hands pull one of his off the steering wheel, and he watches as you rest it in your lap.

“Whoa. Your wrist is big,” you say wondrously, trying to touch your thumb to your middle finger around Max’s wrist.

When you can’t, you trace the veins the slightly swollen veins in his arm, your fingernails grazing his skin. It tickles, and Max fights the urge to move, even when you bend his fingers back with yours to opens his palm. He keeps glancing over at you, wondering what you see. You’re looking at his hand like there are words written on his skin.

“I need my hand,” he says after a while, only because there’s a vague thought in his head that if there were something written on him, it’s not something he’d want you to read.

“Nope.” You say simply, slotting your fingers into his and turning to look out the window.

My God, this woman.

He drives the rest of the way with one hand, using your linked fingers to turn on the indicator at every turn.

By the time he parks up in the underground garage, you’re half asleep, blinking awake only when Max turns off the car. He gets out and goes round to your side before you’ve even moved.

“Are we home already?” You rub your eyes, adjusting to the harsh lighting.

“Yeah,” Max says as you slide out of the car. One of your ankles bends in your heel and stumble into Max. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. I’m good. I’m-“ you try to stand straight and immediately wince. “Ow,”

Max rolls his eyes and crouches down. “Sit down.” He instructs, and for once you just do what he says, lowering yourself to sit on the edge of the car floor while Max busies himself with sliding your heels off your feet. He hears you mumbling about a headache but he doesn’t respond.

One thing at a time, please.

“Better?” He asks you, and you nod. That is, until you try to stand again.

“Ow,”

Watching you hop on one foot, Max lets out a loud sigh. It’s only when he sees tears pooling in your eyes that all his irritation evaporates.

“Come here,” he sighs, and when you hobble into him, he grips your waist and lifts, chuckling at your startled squeak. “It’s okay, I’ve got you,”

You wrap your legs around his waist, and he struggles to find an appropriate place to hold you without touching you. He settles for placing his arm all the way underneath you in a way that is extremely painful for him but decidedly the least inappropriate.

Not that it seems like you would care. You’re mumbling nonsense into his neck, swinging your shoes so that the heels poke into his back, blissfully unaware as Max carries you into the lift, straining to push the button for the penthouse.

You lift your head from Max’s neck mid sentence, just as the lift starts to move. “…but I just hate cheeseboards and so it would always be doomed,” you babble, leaning back a little so you can look Max in the eye. “You know?”

Max doesn’t know. He has no idea. He’s missed the whole story that’s got you to talking about cheese and even if he had heard, he can’t really concentrate with you wrapped around him like a koala.

“Uh-“ he stammers, forcing himself to maintain eye contact while he tries to think of something to say. You stare at him blankly, “I don’t-“

“Your eyes are so…” you trail off, head tilting as you stare. Max watches your lips part, waiting for something, anything. “Blue,”

He husks out a laugh, and you just keep staring at him, unaware of what you’ve said.

You rest your forehead on his shoulder and take a deep breath. “It’s a weird feeling,” you say wistfully. “Is this what it feels like in the car? Like you’re flying?”

Before Max can ask what you mean, he feels you curl in on him, you arms gripping him tighter, and the question dies on his lips.

A few seconds later the lift opens into your apartment, and Max gently eases you to the floor.

“You’re on your own now,” he says, but you’re already stumbling into the hallway, tiptoeing past his trainers and padel bag as Jimmy appears to greet you.

“Kitty!” You squeal, heading towards him. As if he can sense your altered state, the car turns around and hightails it towards Max’s bedroom. You turn to Max with a pout. “Ew. Why does he hate me?”

“He doesn’t-“

“I’m hungry,”

Of course you are.

“I don’t think anything is open right now,”

“But I’m starving. Look, you can see my bones,” you whine, and before Max can even process your words you pull your dress straight over your head.

“Oh, fuck-“

Max slaps his hand over his eyes so fast he hurts his nose. He turns around for good measure, and even that doesn’t feel like enough. He doesn’t even feel like he should be in the room.

“Sweater,” is all he manages to say as he shrugs out of his zip up hoodie. He holds it in your direction, one hand back over his eyes.

“Huh?”

“Sweater,” Max repeats, violently shaking the hoodie in your direction. “Sweatshirt. Please put on the sweatshirt,”

“I’m wearing pasties, you pervert,” you say through a laugh, but Max still doesn’t uncover his eyes because he’s not sure that nipples would be the entirety of the problem.

Eventually he feels you tugging on the shirt and he lets out a sigh of relief when he hears you zip it up. When he opens his eyes and turns around, you’re smiling at him in a way that is so patronising he wants to crawl into a hole.

“I’m still hungry,” you huff out, crossing your arms.

Sometimes Max remembers why he used to dislike you.

He sighs again. “Sit over there,” he says, nodding to the couch. “I’ll heat something up,”

You flash him a toothy grin and now he really remembers why he used to dislike you.

He watches you flop down on the couch and turn on the tv, flipping through channels while takes a container of mushroom tagliatelle out of the fridge and sticking it in the microwave for you. You make weird sounds of displeasure - something akin to a depressed goat - at everything that comes on tv, and Max fights the urge to comment. He picks up your dress while he waits for the food to hear, so that the cats don’t get to it, and leaves it folded on the hall table.

He perversely relishes the moments where he gets to be the grown up out of the two of you.

Eventually the microwave beeps and he put the pasta in a bowl before joining you in the living room. You look up at him from under the hood of his sweatshirt, a smile splitting your face.

“I love you,” you say as you take the bowl, and Max smiles. Maybe your drunk personality isn’t so bad.

“I love you, too,”

You giggle. “I was talking to the pasta,” you tell him, giggling again at the look on his face.

Max settles onto the couch beside you, the exhaustion finally taking over his body. He doubts he’ll make it to bed tonight. He can already feel his eyelids getting heavy.

“Thank you for taking care of me,” it’s a whisper into the nonexistent space between you, and Max just makes a sound of acknowledgement through the haze of fatigue. “That was for you, not the pasta,”

“Thank you for clarifying,” he murmurs, not even opening his eyes, though he doesn’t remember closing them.

“And I do love you. Like…like coming up in the lift,” your voice seems further away now, and he can’t tell whether the gentle lilt is because he’s tired, or you are. He can’t understand what you mean, and once again he wants to ask, but his lips don’t move. Maybe he doesn’t need to know.

All he knows is that he can feel the heat of your skin next to his. You’re home. You’re safe. He can rest now.

#max verstappen x reader

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hotgirlssupportlando · 3 months

Text

one day x lando norris pt 2

this is a part of my series following one day of every summer from 2016 onwards in y/n’s and landos lives, exploring their friendship and love for one another. ofc not a smooth ride with some angst and fights along the way. a friends to lovers, growing up together kind of thing. read first part here pairing: lando norris x fem!reader summary of this part: lando and y/n crushing hard on each other without the other one knowing. roadtrip to the beach and that kind of cosiness. warnings: a bit of angst? wc: 1,6k part three here

summer of 2017

”are you sure you don’t want the professional race car driver to drive there?” lando said with a concerned voice.

”does this look a race car? it’s a car suited for grandmothers, i could probably run faster than this car can drive. stop being such a wuss now and jump in” y/n demanded.

lando jokingly crossed himself and told a little prayer before entering the passenger seat. y/n laughed and rolled her eyes at her scared friend.

”i know i only just got my license but i’m actually a decent driver! and besides that i’m the one of us that actually drive on roads, safely, while you’re out there almost killing yourself every other weekend.”

”okay, okay i get it, i trust you, just please keep us alive, i have a race in hungary this weekend”

”we will just have to hope for the best dear” y/n responded driving away.

while lando and y/n continued bickering about who of them was the best driver y/n drove along the english shoreline heading for a viewing point. she hadn’t seen him in a while and really missed him during the long periods of being apart. y/n tried her best at concentrating on the road and making a good impression of her driving skills but at the same time she couldn’t stop looking at lando and his beautiful smile. he truly made her so happy with his presence which she hadn’t really realized up until now.

it was almost a year now since that podium kiss in austria and ever since that their friendship had developed into a special bond. y/n was still crushing quite hard on lando and without her knowing he was too. they’d never really talked about what happened in austria and although they had a very flirtatious friendship it had never lead to anything between them since that podium. this friendship that had now lasted almost a year felt like a once in a lifetime kind of thing and no-one of them wanted to ruin it by expressing their feelings for one another and maybe ruining it all. eventually it had led to them both staying away from any kind of topic regarding their feelings.

”y/n? what are you thinking about?” lando said waking y/n up from her spiraling thoughts.

”oh, ehm.. nothing. ju-.. just trying to figure out where-, how we’re going to find a nice viewing point before the sun sets” y/n said trying to sound as calmly as she could.

”oh okay, well i know a place. if you just take a left over there and go up that road” lando answered while pointing to a road that was approaching. y/n drove as instructed and after a while reaching a beautiful spot that had a view over the water and a nearby beach.

”wow this is nice lan, good job. i guess i now know where you take all your girls” y/n winked and playfully nudged lando’s arm trying to seem as unbothered as possible.

”not aaall girls but one thing i can tell you is that this spot has never failed me with the girls, soo-” lando cheekingly told y/n returning the nudge.

y/n laughed. ”oh you wish norris! i’m not falling that easily, and what makes you think i’m like your other girls? i actually have more than IQ 50”

”heey that last girl actually a decent gcse!” lando whined.

”woow your standards are very high, i’m impressed. you do realize that that describes almost every girl in this country?” y/n joked as lando laughed and shook his head. ”well we will see y/n, don’t be so sure that you can resist me at a place like this” lando winked at the girl. y/n laughed denying it all while thinking that there was nothing that she wanted more than to be lando’s girl.

—

moments later at the nearby beach

lando was running into the cold water squealing about how it felt worse than ice baths. he looked back at y/n standing on the beach fully dressed with no intention to go for a dip. ”come on now y/n it’s really not that bad!” lando shouted. y/n looked at lando who was clearly freezing and trying to hide it the best he could. ”lan you’re not convincing anyone that it’s not cold, i can see your goosebumps from miles away” she shouted back.

”okay well i bet you’re too much of -”

”lando stop, you can’t just make a bet for everything you want me to do?! that’s not how life works!” y/n interrupted before the curly headed boy could come up with the seventy-third betting game of their friendship.

lando laughed seeing that y/n once again couldn’t resist his stupid ideas and started to remove her sweater. she continued taking off her skirt and top revealing the black bikini underneath. luckily lando was a bit further out in the ocean so y/n couldn’t hear his ”wow” when he saw her for the first time in that small amount of clothes. he kept admiring how beautiful she was walking down to the water while y/n tried to cover up a bit more of her body with her arms.

y/n gasped when entering the water and also tried to put on her best show of convincing lando that the water wasn’t at all cold. slowly she waded out in the direction of the boy with full concentration on the coldness of the water against her skin and also on not stepping on any fish. while y/n struggled with this lando chuckled a bit further out in the water without looking away from the beautiful girl approaching him, oh how he had to fight the urge to not run up to her, grab her in his arms and kiss her. but he couldn’t do that.

”hello? is your last braincell giving up too?” y/n woke lando up from his daydreaming receiving a smile back. as a response he playfully splashed water on her which eventually ended up in them both being totally soaked and heading to the car for some warmth.

—

moments later back at the car the pair of friends were talking in the trunk of the car that had been made to a cosy little space with blankets, pillows and mattresses. both of them were lying on their backs watching the sun set in front of them whilst the waves crashed against the beach. they talked about their future and what they wanted to achieve. the formula 3 driver’s dream future wasn’t hard to guess, formula 1 was of course the ultimate dream but although he was so talented he wasn’t optimistic in getting to that top tier. this however y/n just waved away reassuring lando that if somebody were to get there it was him and tried to fill him with the confidence boosting thoughts he needed to brush away his irrational thoughts.

”but what about you y/n/n? since the day i met you i’ve always been talking about formula one but you’ve never expressed any of your dreams?” he said tilting his head looking at y/n.

”oh, well i don’t know if i have any specific dreams like you.. it sounds so cliché but i truly just wanna experience so much in my life so that maybe one day i wouldn’t need a storybook to tell my children bedtime stories you know? so i could just tell them about all the adventures i’ve been on instead” y/n responded.

”aaw that’s sweet of you. i’m sure that will happen for you and your kids are gonna be thrilled about hearing all about it. i hope i’ll be a part of at least one of your bedtime stories” lando smiled.

y/n smiled back ”i’m sure you’re going to be, but we both know that i also have too much need of academic validation so i’m gonna have to do something about that first, get a degree in something at least” y/n laughed while thinking about also making her family proud as she was often seen as the ’smart’ one in the family. lando chuckled a bit responding that she was the smartest girl he knew before he opened up his arms for her to come and lay on his chest. y/n snuggled in putting her head on his chest and resting her arm on his stomach. she thanked lando for the compliment although ’the smartest girl he knew’ -bar wasn’t very high to be honest. soon their both giggles died out in to a comfortable silence while the pair were holding each other closely. lando thinking about how he wanted to stay this close to y/n forever and y/n thinking about how lando’s arms were the safest she had ever felt. y/n lied so closely she could hear lando’s heartbeat in the silence. both of them were falling for each other, none of them knowing about the other persons feelings.

”lando?” y/n whispered.

”hm?” lando whispered back.

”can you promise that we will always stay like this? … like friends?” she added as her initial thought about expressing her feelings felt too overwhelming at the moment.

”i promise y/n, always” lando whispered back with a small voice crack revealing tears that were held back. oh how he wanted to tell her the truth.

y/n could feel her heart rip. it killed her slowly thinking about how this embrace and these safe arms didn’t belong to her. and if she never get the courage to tell lando they would never do.

—

taglist

@amberpanda99 @phantomxoxo @landossainz @chezmardybum @lan4cha16

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cameronspecial · 7 months

Note

heyyy i am so glad to see someone write for zach. if you like this maybe you could give it your take. so zach and reader are like exes and they reunite unexpectedly then zach gets hit by a car and gets a concussion then forgets about their break-up and still think that they are together.

The Amnesiac's Mistake

Pairing: Zach MacLaren x Reader

Warnings: N/A

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 0.6K

Masterlist

The sweet roars of the crowd fill her ears as Y/N points her camera at the soccer team. She’s been the soccer team’s social media content creator for the university since her sophomore year. After her breakup with Zach, it was a little awkward, but they left the relationship on amicable terms and she wouldn’t let a breakup keep her from her dream job. “And MacLaren has the ball. He’s running it up the fie- Oh, MacLaren is down. It looks like the medics are on the way,” the sports announcer’s scream emits from the booming speakers. Y/N removes the camera from her eyes, watching in worry while the medics take Zach off the field. If they had been dating, she would’ve been running after them but it’s no longer her right to be there for him.

——

Zach blinks to readjust his eyes to the room's lights. The medic puts the flashlight back in her pocket, “You seem to have a concussion, Mr. MacLaren. I’m afraid you’ll be out of any games for the foreseeable future and any screens for the next forty-eight hours.” Zach nods, l looking around for his girlfriend. “Where’s Y/N?” he questions. Coach Grace’s eyebrows knit together, “She’s out on the field. Doing her job.” Her slow pace drives him crazy. “Why isn’t she here? I need her here,” he states with his lips slopping to a frown. The medic knows about the breakup as well and this causes her to question if she should add something to his diagnosis.

“Mr. MacLaren, what is the last thing you remember?” she asks. Zach’s hand comes to his forehead, “Uh, we were playing the game against UNC.” Coach Grace’s face scrunches like a dried-up raisin. “That was two months ago,” she breaks the news to him. His eyebrows raise and his mouth drops, “How is that possible? Where is Y/N? She’s my girlfriend. She’s allowed to be here.”

——

Coach Grace runs to Y/N, who is talking to another player on the field. She spots the coach and worry flushes her because it must be serious if Zach was okay, it wouldn’t be taking this long for him to come back out. “Hey, Coach. Is everything alright?” Coach’s head shakes, “No, Zach needs you.” Even with the breakup, Y/N dashes toward the medical room, almost tripping over her feet. Her breath comes out like a panting dog as she stands in the middle of the room. Her hands are on her knees, searching for Zach. His eyes light up when he spots her. He hops off the medical table and rushes towards her, “Are you okay, Baby? Take a deep breath in and out.” She does as he suggests, letting her breath return to normal. Her body straightens up, so they are face to face. He gives her a charming smirk, bringing his hand up to her cheek. His lips find hers. For a moment, she lets them get swept up in the moment, kneading his lips with hers.

She finally snaps back into reality, remembering what happened between them. Her lips leave his with a tiny shove to his chest to keep her away. “Zach, we broke up,” she whispers. The scrunch between his eyebrows smoothes out. Her words bring him back to the present. “Right, right. Sorry. I think I lost my memory for a second,” he reasons. She bites her lip, nodding her head with her eyes cast down, “It’s okay. I guess I’ll just go then.” He watches as she makes her exist. The kiss they shared showed him he made a mistake. They still had that spark and he let her get away.

Taglist: @winterrrnight @loves0phelia

#the other zoey #zach maclaren #zach maclaren x reader #drew starkey #drew starkey x reader #drew starkey x y/n #drew starkey x you #drew starkey x female reader #drew starkey fanfiction #drew starkey imagine #drew starkey one shot

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onewmin · 8 months

Text

boiling water | nanami kento

Pairing: Nanami x fem!reader

Summary: Kento gets distracted by the memory of you.

Word count: ~2.3k

Author’s Note: it’s a sort of side story, Nanami’s pov, to the main fanfic that I’m currently working on. I’ll post the main story soon, so if this part gets you interested, let me know!! (warnings and the story are under the cut)

Warnings: AU (I guess, cause it contradicts the canon events a lot); smut MINORS DNI: slight fingering (f receiving), slight nipple play (f receiving), a description of penetration, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it folks); established relationship, descriptions of past intercourse; some angst if you squint, Nanami hates himself; typos

Masterlist

Nanami Kento was a man of his word, it was an undeniable fact.

But it was difficult for him to keep his word when you were so deliciously rubbing your body under the hot water. Taking showers together was a ritual both of you had gotten accustomed to a long time ago: no matter how tired or upset you were, a shower before sleep had to be shared. Kento couldn’t get enough of your smooth skin under his calloused fingers, and the sweet scent of the shower gel he inhaled while peppering kisses along your neck. That was his stress relief, a solace in his gloomy days.

“Ken”, you said in a low voice, “could you rub my back, please?” He hummed and took the loofa from your hands, pressing it to your soft skin. Drawing circles of bubbles, Nanami pushed his body close to yours, his hand with the loofa going under your breasts.

“Are you done there?” You whispered, your body leaning on his.

“Mhm”, he replied, moving the loofa to your collarbones and then back to your breasts. “Care to put the loofa away?” You nodded, putting it back to the shelf. As you stood under the hot water, Nanami watched how your hands roamed around your body, washing the strawberry gel off, eyes closed. Your cheeks got a bit rosy as the water temperature was to your liking: boiling. When you shared the shower for the first time, Kento almost fainted and you had to help him go back to the bed and whispered countless apologies by peppering kisses all over his palms. Little did nineteen-year old Kento know four years later he’d be looking forward to these showers.

“Come here”, you peered at him with hazy eyes as he cupped your cheeks. Having left a small kiss on your forehead, Kento pecked your lips. They were silken, pillowy against his; the addicting feeling of this moment, when your breath would softly tickle under his nose and your half-lidded eyes pierce through him. “I love you”, he muttered as his fingers caressed your cheek, “I love you more than anything in the world”.

You gave him a smile in response, arms wrapping around his neck. Warmth blossomed in Kento’s chest as you tilted your head and parted your lips, inviting him to finally kiss you. In a flash, his lips were on yours, hands tightened on your waist. You tasted like mango flavored tea and chocolate ice cream the two of you shared after dinner. Nanami’s head started spinning — was it the boiling water? — no, the intoxicating taste of you on his lips was driving him absolutely insane. How could it be possible to ever let this go, to ever abandon these little whimpers ‘cause his hands grabbed your ass without stopping the kiss?

“Kento”, you gasped, burying your head in the crook of his neck, “Kento, please”. Before he knew, you were leaving sloppy, wet kisses alongside his jaw. Stopping himself from letting out a moan, Nanami moved his hand lower, right to your aching core.

“Uh, Kento”, you rasped, “fuck me here. Please, Ken, fuck-“

Nanami growled. Your pleas were always a song to his ears, a sweet little melody he was eager to hear whenever he could. When his fingers ran through your slick folds, he closed his eyes and hissed — the man was about to break his word given to you several months ago. Wouldn’t he appear as a horny teenager in your eyes if he indulged in it now?

“Ken, what’s wrong?” Your hands cupped his cheeks as you forced him to look at you. Nanami sighed, hands reaching behind you to turn the water off.

“I don’t want you to get hurt”, he mumbled, arms wrapped around your torso. “I almost dropped you the last time we-“

“Ken”. You interrupted him, your warm lips brushing against his. “You don’t have to hold me, when we have sex”, a small peck left on his lips, “I can just… turn around”. A suggestive look on your face got his dick twitching, aching for being buried inside your velvety walls. But Nanami shook his head as he kissed your forehead.

“I wanna see your face”, he purred in your skin.

“My face or my tits?” You laughed. He returned a smile and kissed you lightly.

“Both”.

Less than two minutes passed before the two of you were on the bed, your back pressed against cotton sheets as Nanami devoured your lips with his. He still kept his promise, though — I’m not gonna fuck you in the shower ever again, for your sake — as he couldn’t drop you from the bed. The last time your wet pussy was bouncing on his shaft, he almost dropped your body on the floor when his foot slipped. Holding you while standing, gripping your butt when he pounded into you while you gripped his shoulders and repeated his name as a mantra was a view worth fucking you right in the shower; but when he almost lost his balance and let go of your legs, Nanami had his heart pounding in his chest at the mere thought of injuring you. So he swore to you a thousand times he wouldn’t do it again: neither sex nor any form of foreplay.

The word was kept, still.

Kento’s tongue swirled on your hardened nipple, making you arch your back, pressing your chest even closer to his. Your fingers gripped his hair, as you were lost in the sugary pleasure his mouth was giving you. Nanami hummed as he sucked on your sensitive nipples one by one, earning a hoarse moan from you.

“Gonna finger you, hm?” He murmured, sucking in between your breasts, making sure to leave a purple mark. That was only the beginning.

“No, no'', you panted; Kento looked at you, eyes clouded with lust. “Want you inside, Ken, please”. You leaned in to press his lips back to yours in a heated kiss. “Baby, please”, your brain was already half-working as you could only beg for him to put this distance between you to a halt.

“Whatever you want, princess”, he breathed out in your mouth, tongue running along your neck as you grabbed his shoulders. He brought your gaze back to his face when he watched you draw your lower lip between your teeth as he pumped himself before lining at your entrance. “Sure you’re ready?”

You started nodding frantically, hands back to cupping his cheeks. “I fin-, mhm” you closed your eyes when he ran the tip of his cock along your slick folds, “I fingered myself before you came home. Really, really”, you arched your back again as Nanami pressed his thumb on your clit, “I’m really ready, baby”.

“Anything for you”, he lowered his head to meet your lips in a sloppy kiss one more time before he slipped the tip inside. Earning a tiny gasp from you, Nanami buried his head in the crook of your neck. He could’ve come right then and there, when your plushy walls devoured the tip of his dick; to be fair, a mere sight of your begging for him was enough for him to cum without even touching you. “I love you so much”, his voice, thick with lust and desire, reached the deepest parts of you, bringing you to a hazy state of mind.

Nanami pushed his thick cock inside you slowly, languidly, his mind absorbing in every whimper and mewl that was leaving your peachy lips. His girl, so desperate for him, so ready, so wet — his, his and his only. His first love, the love of his life, his fiancée, his future wife, his entire existence wrapped in the most desirable woman in the whole galaxy. “I love you”, your hungry kisses were followed by him bottoming out completely, “Ken, I love you so much”.

Oh, darling, he thought, fingers gripping your waist, how I love you. He was moving, his cock slowly ravishing your dripping cunt. He grunted as he saw your finger creep up to your pulsating bundle of nerves; brushing your hand off, Nanami replaced it with his thumb.

“You wanna cum already?” He chuckled under his breath while drawing painfully slow circles on your clit. “Hope you’d do it a bit later”, your quivering body gave him exactly what he wanted: you gripping the sheets as you gasped for air, lost in pleasure.

“Kento!” A smack on the shoulder slapped Nanami back into reality. Oh no. He was in front of his computer, gray office walls dawning on his already somber world. He was daydreaming again. “Wanna go for a smoke?” His colleague said quietly; Nanami nodded, taking the cigarette pack out of the bag and following the man to the elevator. A couple of more people joined them on the way; Kento kept up with the conversation absentmindedly while the elevator was going to the first floor.

Ah, it was raining again. Standing under the roof in the designated smoking area, Kento’s thoughts flew to your nagging whenever the rain started. Despite having to deal with downpours constantly due to the country’s weather, you still found yourself cursing whenever a drop of rain hit the ground. Nanami laughed at your screwed face, leaving a sweet kiss on your cheek to soften your expression. He loved your sulky days, and he loved your sunny shy smile whenever he’d made you happier in your greyest mood. Was it also raining in Tokyo? Were you whining while sitting behind your desk at school? Did you take the umbrella with you in the morning? Or you forgot it as you usually did?

He could’ve just taken the phone from his pocket and called you. He could’ve just asked. Like, was it hard?

It was, actually. He was the one to leave you, the one to abandon the love the two of you had been building for over a decade — just because he got scared. Scared to death, frankly speaking. He knew he could live his life not being a jujutsu sorcerer, but… Could he drag you along with him? Could he allow his selfishness and fear to draw you away from your friends, students, your life? Of course, you were on the same page about stopping doing this job once you two finally settled down, but were you really ready to do that?

“I-I” You stuttered under his piercing gaze. “Right now?”

“Right now”. He repeated. “Either we leave right now or we never do it”.

“Ken, I…” You thought trailed off as you sighed loudly. “I didn’t even… I never thought it would be… So fast. I still need time to think”.

He took it too personally, now he understands that. You weren’t rejecting his offer, on the contrary actually: you were ready to go to the end of the world with him, follow him to the darkest depths of Hell — but he didn’t want you to think it over more than you did. The Jujutsu world was dangerous and he was tired of losing people and harming innocents. He gave it up once, easily; however, you couldn’t. And now, six months later, Nanami has finally realized it.

“What a moron”, he mumbled, throwing the cigarette into the bin. Leaving all his life behind and for what? For the mirage of peace? For the misery he covered with indifference? Being a sorcerer goes along with loss, principal Yaga once told him, if you manage to get used to it, it’ll be easier, Kento. Because, no matter how hard it is, loss is not the only thing this life gives you.

“Hey, Nanami”, his colleague took a cigarette from his pack, “y’know that Haruka from the marketing team likes you, right?”

“So what?” Kento stared the man down; he saw Haruko almost every day and certainly noticed her cheeks turn bright color red whenever he spoke to her. Whatever. She wasn’t the one Kento’s mind was focused on; no one could replace the girl with pigtails, who would give him a timid kiss on the cheek before every class. The girl he fell in love with, running to her at any moment given, and the woman who he left behind several months ago, running from her to an unknown, dark future. At least, there’s no more loss, he’d gaslight himself, at least, no one’s suffering because of me. He hoped you grew to hate him now; he hoped you didn’t cry yourself to sleep because he abandoned you. He hoped for that, but he was perfectly aware of it not being true.

“She’s really hot, though”, the man noticed, “you’d better do something before someone else snatches her”.

“I don’t care”. Nanami sighed and headed back to the office. That was true; the only woman he cared about was five hundred kilometers away, taking the subway to work, running around the school, teaching kids her techniques and protecting them on missions, throwing herself in front of danger — just to save everyone she loved.

Would you take him back if he flew back to Tokyo and showed up at your shared apartment? If he were you, he wouldn’t. If he were you, he’d beat himself to death, throw punches with his cursed technique, but he wouldn’t take himself back. You didn’t deserve the mess he’d created, thinking he was the most righteous man on Earth, you didn’t deserve the pain he’d inflicted on you by leaving, abruptly, a small note on the kitchen counter replacing his words. He was a coward. And you didn’t need to welcome a coward like him back with open arms.

Nanami Kento wasn’t a man of his word, this is an undeniable fact. Because if he truly was then he wouldn’t have ever left the woman he promised to stay with forever.

the next part (will be uploaded soon)

#nanami kento #nanami #nanami kento imagine #nanami kento imagines #nanami kento x reader #nanami kento x you #nanami kento x y/n #nanami x reader #nanami x you #nanami x y/n #nanami smut #nanami kento smut #jujutsu nanami #jujutsu kaisen imagines

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strwberri-milk · 2 months

Text

Midnight Blues

Rafayel x Reader || Mild Insomnia, Comfort || 1 184 words

a/n: my toxic trait is pretending im a singer and compiling songs into albums and naming them and midnight blue is the name of the hypothetical album that encapsulates falling in love with rafayel and i guess i could make a playlist bc thats the normal thing to do but i just name fanficitions after them ig. also this is based off his treasure secret time - idgaf about the mensturation i only care about the fact that hums your ass to rest and the lore drop that is rafayel calling you at night when the two of you first start met bc it would help you sleep

You can hardly remember what nights were like before without the sound of his voice in your ears.

You sigh as you sink into your bed, staring up at the ceiling after doing another quick lap around the house to try and tire yourself out. Your body is tired, you know it is. You just wish that you could sleep, not at all excited about the prospect of having to go to work tomorrow after being unable to sleep all night.

You’re about to start your nightly routine of tossing and turning when your phone suddenly starts to ring. A smile makes its way onto your face as you recognise the caller ID, putting your phone against your ear and humming lightly to alert the other side to your presence.

“You’re still awake, huh?” Rafayel’s teasing tone asks through the phone. The two haven’t known each other long but that didn’t seem to bother Rafayel in the slightest.

“Yeah,” you sigh, putting your phone on speaker next to you on the pillow.

All it took was falling asleep one time in a conversation with him for Rafayel to pounce on that and decide to take advantage of it. You swore up and down that it was a mistake, that it wasn’t because of Rafayel that you fell asleep but deep down you know that something about that silky smooth timbre of his voice made your worries go away. You’d never slept so soundly, mortified at the teasing text that he sent you when you read it in the morning.

However, you had to admit defeat and let the man do whatever he wanted. Even before you met him it was clear that Rafayel didn’t care much for whatever the people around him want. He does as he pleases and now, it seems that he’s convinced you won’t sleep without him talking to you.

“If you wanted me to call you all you had to do was ask,” he says after a while, letting you get settled in bed.

“I’m grown. I can take care of myself,” you reply, Rafayel imagining a slight pout on your features as you did so.

“Ah, I see. So you don’t need me to talk you to sleep then? I’ll hang up then.”

“Wait!” you shout quickly, shooting out of bed and grabbing your phone.

“Don’t…don’t go. Please?”

“Begging now? I guess if you’re that desperate for my company I’ll give it to you.”

You can hear how smug he is, rolling your eyes at how obvious his tells are. You wonder how Thomas hasn’t figured him out yet – Rafayel isn’t nearly as sneaky as he seems to think he is.

“Are you driving?” you ask after a second, settled back into bed again and listening carefully to his end of the call.

“I’m heading back from an exhibition. I could have booked a hotel but I didn’t feel like staying the night there so I’m making the long drive home. I called you to see if you’d keep me company.”

You tug your blankets around yourself, losing yourself in their warmth as you yawn. The exhaustion begins to sit on your shoulders again but this time, it feels more manageable. His voice swims around your head as he starts rambling about the exhibition. You’re glad to hear that it went off without a hitch, having declined his invitation yourself due to a more urgent task of the day.

“Are you even listening to me?” he asks, bringing your attention back to him.

“Hmm? Yeah, sellers bullying you, people hitting on you, same old same old,” you mumble, burying yourself further into your bed.

“If you didn’t like it that much, why didn’t you just make something up to get out of it?”

“I couldn’t bail on Thomas again. I felt bad for him constantly fielding off journalists and this show was supposedly a big deal so I decided to do him a favour. Plus, I blew off all the shows so far this month so I might as well make myself seen at a more important one.”

Leave it to Rafayel to make doing his job seem like a favour to someone else. Even if he acts like he’s got his head in the clouds you know he’s genuinely kind – if you’ve got the patience to go digging through the layers that make up the enigmatic artist. You feel thankful that the world brought you to him, even if you weren’t sure what the budding feeling in your chest is.

“You had a long day, huh? I can hear it in your voice.”

You give him another hum, not wanting to bother with any words.

“Even if I ask you a question you don’t need to reply. It’s getting late and I won’t be home for at least another hour. I really did just want your company you know. I’m glad that you answered my call. It would have been miserable if I had to drive home all alone.”

It doesn’t take Rafayel much time to start rambling at you again. You don’t know how he manages to find anything and everything to say to you and keep himself entertained, laughing at his own jokes and taking the soft noises you make as jumping off points to completely go on a new tangent.

When he hears your light snores and steady breathing, he smiles to himself. The sound of your breath surrounds him in his car and if he weren’t such a responsible driver, he’d close his eyes just to pretend that he’s laying in bed with you.

Normally, Rafayel was perfectly content driving home in silence, finding the long expanse of road the perfect opportunity to ground himself after all of the cameras and people in his face. Honestly, he only left when he did to make sure he’d be able to call you at the same time he did every night. Your inability to sleep well worried him and even if you didn’t fully understand the extent of his feelings towards you, he wouldn’t let that get in the way of taking care of you. You make him happy after all, especially when he hears you try to rouse yourself from sleep in a desperate attempt to show him that you’re listening to him. The mental image of your sleepy eyes trying to focus on his face makes his heart melt, impatiently tapping his finger against the steering wheel at the annoyance of being unable to call you his just quite yet.

Even when he gets home, he doesn’t hang up on you. He’s careful to do his nightly routine quietly, using the sound of your breathing as his favourite symphony and he settles down for the night himself. He even continues to speak to you softly, wanting to make sure that his voice lulls you into a truly restful slumber. He thinks about you a lot and being able to help you in any form always makes his heart feel so full.

He won’t admit that talking to you on these late nights makes him sleep well too, putting his phone on the pillow beside him before falling asleep to thoughts of you.

#love and deepspace x reader #rafayel x reader #lads x reader #lads rafayel #lads rafayel x reader #lnd rafayel

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marvelmusing · 4 months

Text

Earned It

Pairing: Mafia!Aleksander Morozova x Fem!Reader (Modern AU)

Summary: Aleksander Morozova has specific tastes. Nikolai knows this, which is why he invites you to join him at one of Morozova’s parties in the hopes of fostering a business partnership. Once you set eyes on Morozova, you are more than happy to play the part of pawn.

Warnings [18+]: sexual content, dom!Aleksander, pain kink, exclusive kink party, semi public spanking and nudity, sir kink, praise kink, hints that the reader was used as an incentive for a deal between Aleksander and Nikolai

My Masterlist

It won’t be much longer before you lose your patience.

Bent over a table, you manage to moan when Nikolai swats at your ass cheek instead of groaning in frustration. He’s too gentle. It’s driving you up the wall.

He had asked you to be his plus one for this unconventional party, hosted by a potential future business partner - Aleksander Morozova - in an attempt at forming an alliance. Despite the rumours you’ve heard about Morozova, you had agreed to help your friend.

The two of you had discussed what you would be comfortable doing together at the party, though Nikolai seems to have misunderstood just how enthusiastic you are about public spankings. All too soon, it’s over, leaving you unspeakably dissatisfied.

He helps you stand upright again, looping his arm around your waist and smoothing your dress down as he looks down at you.

“You okay?”

“I thought you would have committed to the role a little more,” you remark quietly.

“You’re my friend,” he protests. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

While his words are sweet, you’re too on edge to say anything except,

“Could you get me a drink?” He nods.

Tugging at the hem of your dress a little self consciously, you move towards an empty sofa at the side of the room. Irritation prickles over your skin, a dissatisfied pout puckering at your lips as you sit down with a small huff.

Closing your eyes, you slump your head against the back of the sofa, delighting in the dull thud that reverberates through your skull. Irritated by the events of this evening, you continue to bang your head half heartedly against the soft edge of the furniture.

The repetitive motion helps to relieve some of your frustration - until someone grasps a fistful of the hair at the crown of your head, meaning it stings when you move to drop your head back against the sofa.

As your eyes snap open, you’re greeting by the sight of Aleksander Morozova standing over you.

“I don’t condone self inflicted pain at my parties.”

Heat burns through your body, prickling from your scalp down to your stomach that flips as his eyes lock on yours. His gaze is frighteningly direct and your thighs shift as you squirm in response to his attention.

“I’m sorry, sir.”

Nerves have you nipping lightly on your lower lip, which makes Mr Morozova raise a dark brow pointedly at you. He hooks his hand beneath your chin, putting pressure on your lips with the pad of his thumb. Instantly, you release your lip from between your teeth, cheeks scolding hot.

“Good girl.”

The sharp breath that escapes you is involuntary and you are ten times more aroused now that you were when Nikolai was attempting to spank you.

“Let me guess,” he muses, stroking his fingers delicately over your cheek in a manner that has you leaning into his touch. “Young Mr Lantsov wants to do business with me, and thought inviting a pretty thing like you would sweeten whatever deal he hopes to offer me.”

A frown creases at your features and you begin to shake your head. Mr Morozova mirrors your expression mockingly with a raised brow and your stomach flips. He smirks.

“He didn’t?”

“I- I don’t think he did,” you stammer.

Mr Morozova laughs, tilting his head back as the bright sound escapes him. His laughter fades and he considers you for a long moment, continuing the motion of his thumb circling your cheek. Then he releases his hold on your face.

“Stand up.”

The loss of his touch is briefly upsetting, but you do as he says, smoothing your dress down nervously as you stand. Mr Morozova circles around the sofa, sliding between you and the piece of furniture before he sits down, claiming your seat for himself.

He takes a hold of your hips, guiding you to stand between his open thighs. Even sitting down, he’s able to reach for your chin, directing your gaze to meet his.

“I’m going to bend you over my knee now. Is that alright?”

Startled desire pools in your stomach as your eyes widen at his question.

“Please,” you whisper.

He pushes your dress upwards over your hips, revealing your lacy panties to him. The sight of his eyes darkening makes you shiver. He touches you leisurely, stroking over the lace covering your mound and pressing his thumb into your hip.

“Would you like to take these off for me?” he asks, his tone light. Instantly, your eyes flicker up to the rest of the party. There are plenty of eyes on you - mostly due the man in front of you. “You don’t have to,” he adds softly and you believe him.

Glancing back down to his eyes, you feel a sudden burst of confidence. The way he’s looking at you has warmth spreading through your body, making you eager to do as you please - and right now you want him to see you.

Hooking your thumbs under the waistband of your panties on either side of your hips, you slip them down easily, keeping your eyes locked on Mr Morozova’s. He smiles widely.

“Good girl,” he praises. “Such a beauty.”

The weight of his gaze is heavy as he admires you. It makes you squirm. Then he does as he promised, bending you over his lap so that your ass is on display for him. Mr Morozova scoffs.

“He didn’t leave a single mark on you.” A shudder runs through your body as he rubs his hand over your cheeks, his palm smoothing across every inch he can. “That simply won’t do. Will it, darling?”

“No, sir.”

“It’s unacceptable, leaving you wanting like this.”

You nod in agreement.

When he starts out gently, swatting your cheeks at a lazy pace, you whine and kick your feet lightly in protest. He lands a harsh crack to your backside that has you crying out, the skin there burning in the wake of his hand. He pinches your cheeks between his fingers and you whimper.

“Being neglected does not give you the right to act disobedient,” he scolds you in a low voice that makes you burn internally. “You will get what I give you and be grateful for it.” He places his hand at the back of your neck, giving a firm squeeze. “Is that understood?”

“Yes, sir.”

He settles his hand back down onto your ass, petting the tender skin.

“That’s better.”

Every strike that lands has you sinking deeper into the sofa, into him. Arousal is thick and cloying in your body, filling up your mind like molten honey. The only sensation you are able to focus on is his hand as it meets whatever portion of your skin he deems worthy of his attention - and he appears to value every inch you’ve offered him.

His encouragements make your thighs quiver and butterflies swarm in your stomach as he praises you for withstanding something that you delight in. He makes every second of the pain worthwhile, ensuring that every spot he strikes makes you moan with a pleasure that makes you throb with need.

Tears prickle in the corner of your eyes and it isn’t long before they spill down your cheeks, hot and salty as they smear over your flushed face. When he finally stops, your mind is hazy. A blissful lightness has filled your limbs and your gaze is unfocused as he turns you onto your side so that he can see your face. The beat of your heart is no longer in your chest, it’s between your legs.

“That was what you needed, wasn’t it?” he muses quietly, stroking his thumb over your cheek to wipe at the half-dried tears there. Nodding weakly, your eyes flutter shut. The image of his smile is burnt into your closed eyelids.

He continues stroking your cheekbones, his fingers tracing absentmindedly over your jawline and across the pulse point in your neck.

“Poor darling,” he murmurs. “Are you tired?”

Blinking heavily, you nod. Fatigue weighs down on your eyelids and the urge to curl up in the safety of his arms is incredibly appealing. He seems to notice, helping you sit up in his lap.

“That’s it. Come here.”

He drapes a cosy blanket over your body, his hands wandering beneath the fabric to squeeze reassuringly at your thighs, encouraging you to relax. It’s easy to press your face into his chest and you soon sink into slumber.

When you wake, you’re being lowered onto a plush mattress in a darkened room. It takes half a second for you to realise who is smoothing his hands down your bare legs, before he tucks a soft duvet over your body.

“Did you make a deal with Nikolai?” you ask Mr Morozova sleepily. He nods.

“I did.”

Exhaustion has buried itself into your body, a pleasurable ache spreading over your backside that has a giddy smile spreading over your face which you attempt to hide as you curl your arms around the nearest pillow.

“Good.”

The corner of his mouth quirks darkly as your eyes flutter closed again. He presses a kiss to your temple, his arms encaging you as he leans over your body.

“Sleep. We’ll talk more in the morning.”

marvelmusing Tag List: @dreamlandcreations @blanchedelioncourt @idaofinfinity @slytherheign @ellooo0ooo @vixenofcourse @dumb-fawkin-bitch @jane-arthur @ilikefictionmen @budugu @watersquirtpewpewboomm @mysweetlittledesire

S&B Tag List: @motheroffae @daddymaster21

Aleksander M Tag List: @nyctophiliiiiaaa @jazmin2211 @wooya1224 @seronsalk

BB Characters Tag List: @rachlovesactors @noortsshift @aikeia @weallhaveadestiny @two-unbeatable-beaters @idohknow @vaguekayla

#aleksander morozova x reader #aleksander morozova imagine #the darkling x reader #the darkling au #shadow and bone au #shadow and bone x reader

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