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#really just had a reality check of how long it’s been
roosterforme · 14 hours
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Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw Part 10 | Rooster x Reader
Summary: After just two days back home, Bradley takes you on a second date. He wants more, and you don't seem to mind when he can't keep his hands and lips to himself.
Warnings: Fluff, angst, language, Bradley being boyfriend material
Length: 5000 words
Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female teacher!Reader
Check out my masterlist for more! Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw masterlist
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"Shit."
It had been such a long time since Bradley wore anything other than a flight suit, a khaki uniform or gym clothes, he had no idea what he was supposed to wear to dinner tonight. You mentioned weeks ago you thought Italian food sounded nice for a second date, and he agreed wholeheartedly. He managed to snag a table for the two of you at Salvatore's, and he was absolutely prepared to drop over five hundred bucks, but his clothing was becoming a situation.
After spending the entire day with you yesterday, Saturday morning was a bit of a reality check. He was trying to work through three loads of laundry while he sorted through a box of mail. There was nothing sweet in there like the packages you and your class sent to him while he was deployed. It was mostly bills that had already been automatically paid online, mortgage statements, and junk. Then he started folding laundry, somehow expecting some articles of clothing that weren't threadbare tee shirts or tropical print button downs to jump out at him.
"Why don't you have normal clothing?" he asked himself as he picked up his phone now that it was late enough to text you. He wanted to make sure you were okay with grabbing a drink before the dinner reservation which wasn't until 7:45. But when he unlocked his phone, instead of zero new messages, he found a picture you sent seven minutes ago. 
"Oh my god," he groaned softly, dropping onto his bed next to some unfolded laundry. You were in your own bed wearing his favorite sweatshirt and a bright smile.
Good morning, Handsome. Last night felt like a dream, but your sweatshirt is real, so it must have happened.
He scrambled to write back, clothing crisis forgotten. God, he wanted to be in that bed in the worst way. Things would definitely get out of hand pretty quickly, but he knew those first few kisses would be the sweetest things. After last night at the beach, waiting for a few more dates was going to be the challenge of his life, but he wanted you to know he was in this for the long haul. Especially after you mentioned that you thought he may have ghosted you.
Hey, Gorgeous. My sweatshirt looks way better on you than it ever did on me. Did you sleep in it?
He hit send and then wished he hadn't asked that question. He sounded like a horny twenty year old. It was bad enough that he had to practically beg you to go inside your apartment last night while you were kissing his neck, but he didn't want to embarrass himself.
Of course I did. It smells like you. The only thing better would be having you in my bed, too...
How the hell was he supposed to wait until this evening to see you? He tossed his phone aside. His blood felt like it was on fire, and he was sweating. Never before had he wanted to move this fast from a first date to making things official. But he knew you. He'd been working up to this point for months. And the Thai dinner with Prosecco on the beach wasn't really a first date. That felt closer to a reunion with a girlfriend than anything else. The only thing missing for that to have been true was a sleepover instead of him taking you home for the night. 
He was too many steps ahead right now. You hadn't yet done the drive down to Coronado from Mira Mesa for yourself, but he already caught himself wondering if you'd consider moving in with him in the future. "You need to relax," he ground out through gritted teeth. "You'll scare her away." He cracked his neck and forced himself to fold a stack of underwear before picking up his phone to reply.
I don't want to rush things, but your bed does look very comfortable. I'm confident we could get cozy there... You're making me blush. I need to get this conversation back on track. Cocktails before dinner at Salvatore's? I'll pick you up at 5:30?
A few minutes later, you responded with a photo of you still all snuggled up in bed, smiling and giving him a thumbs up in his shirt.
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"Just in case," you muttered, making sure your bedding was straightened and your room was tidy. You left Bradley's TOP GUN sweatshirt folded on your pillow, but you certainly wouldn't mind having the man himself in your bed tonight. Your fingers and toes tingled when you thought about it. You bit your lip and scooped up his shirt, inhaling his scent one more time before you realized he would be here any minute.
When he knocked on your door, you set it back on your pillow and glanced at yourself in the mirror as you bounced past it. Cocktails and dinner at Salvatore's would have been a major splurge for a night out for you, but Bradley selected the restaurant. All you did was mention Italian food, and he really ran with it. You'd have been happy with some pizza and breadsticks, simply excited he remembered you mentioned Italian food at all, but this called for your littlest black dress and your brightest red lipstick. 
"I'm coming!" you called, going as fast as you could in your black heels, giggling at the double meaning. You had to compose yourself before you could open the door, and when you did, you were met with the actual man of your dreams.
"Hey, Gorgeous." Bradley's crooked little smile faltered a bit as his gaze slid down from your eyes to your lips, but he didn't stop there. He was shamelessly checking you out as a pretty shade of pink crept up into his cheeks, and you did a slow turn for him. 
Your skin felt warm as you met his eyes after doing a full circle. His lips were parted as you whispered, "Hi," and reached for his hand. As soon as your skin met his, he pulled you closer to him. "Bradley." His lips were on yours as he backed you up into your apartment until you softly met the wall behind you. He was big and warm, and you were holding his left hand while his right one came up to your face.
He broke the kiss by tipping your chin up so you were looking at him. "You're the most beautiful woman I've ever seen," he crooned softly. Your lipstick was smudged along his mouth, and his tongue darted out to taste it before he said, "I'm fucking crazy about you."
His rough thumb dragged along your bottom lip as you said, "And you've never even seen me dispose of a spider for you."
"Baby," he rasped. "I'd probably propose."
A shocked giggle escaped you, and his crooked grin was back as he kept you there against your wall with your door wide open. You reached up and ran your fingers along the collar of his oxford shirt before tugging on the fabric until his lips were on yours again. You let your head tip back against the wall as he devoured you, tasting your lips, tongue and teeth before his forehead came to rest gently on yours.
"You know," you gasped, trying to catch your breath, "I thought all your emails were sweet and romantic."
He chuckled as he pulled away from you. "I was hoping I was doing okay in person, too."
You shrugged playfully and tried to spin out of his grasp, but his hand was still wrapped up in yours. He followed you to your coffee table so you could grab your purse as you casually told him, "You're even better in person than I thought you'd be."
"Oh yeah?" he asked, pulling you close again. "You like my stupid looking clothes and how I can eat three meals for dinner?"
He was so endearing, you didn't know how to handle him. So you kissed him again and whispered, "I like all of it." You let your fingers trail along his shirt buttons as you said, "You look nice in this, but I can already tell you're more comfortable in your colorful Aloha shirts and jeans. And I love that you can eat three meals for dinner, because we ended up sharing everything last night."
"Let's go," he coaxed, leading you toward your door. "I'll let you pick whatever you want to try at Salvatore's. I don't usually like sharing my food, but there's just something about you, Gorgeous. You make me feel comfortable."
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You tried to tell Bradley twice that he still had some of your lipstick smudged on his face, but he just shrugged and said, "Good," in response both times. If he didn't mind, then neither did you. It couldn't be any more obvious that he was with you when the exact color that was on your lips was also on his. You listened to him hum along to the retro oldies station as he merged onto the coastal highway while you took a minute to fix up your own smudged lipstick.
He grinned over at you as you put your makeup away and said, "Come on, Baby. If you didn't want it on my face, then you wouldn't be putting more on your lips."
Every time he made a bold statement like that, you wanted to cancel dinner altogether and take him to your bedroom. "I never said I didn't want it on your face. It looks good." 
He reached out blindly for your hand, and you grabbed his immediately. "You did tell me you wanted me to kiss you as soon as I saw you."
"Yeah," you muttered. "Don't stop doing that." You knew things with him were going to get physical pretty quickly, but you'd never been quite this attracted to someone before. You drew little shapes on his palm as you asked, "How was your first night back in your own bed after so many months away?"
He groaned softly. "Epic. Fantastic. I don't fit very well in an extra long twin bed."
"No, I would imagine you don't," you said with a laugh as you watched him drive his Bronco in the evening sunlight.
He licked his lips and grinned as he said, "Would have been better if you were there though."
The eruption of butterflies in your belly left you biting your lip. You wanted to respond, but you needed to be able to make it through dinner before you were hanging off of him again like you were last night. That's when he brought your hand up to his lips and kissed your knuckles, treating you to his mustache there. "Feel like getting a drink or two in the lounge first? Maybe a bottle of wine?"
"Mmhmm," you hummed, ready to go anywhere he took you. As soon as he parked, he jogged around to help you down, letting you slide against his body with your hands on his shoulders. You wobbled a bit in your shoes, but he kept you steady.
"You good?" he asked as he leaned in, his lips brushing the side of your neck as his arm wrapped around your waist.
"So good," you promised. "Never better."
Bradley kept his hand right there on your hip as he led you along the sidewalk toward the restaurant. The lounge was packed; this was definitely a popular weekend date night locale. Couples filled the space with noisy conversation, but you could hear Bradley perfectly as his lips found your ear when he said, "There's an empty stool at the far end of the bar." He gave your hip a little squeeze as you headed for it, and he leaned on the bar next to you. "Why don't you pick out a bottle of wine or whatever you want? I'll go let the hostess know we'll be hanging out in the lounge."
When you agreed, he kissed your lips like the two of you had been at this for years, not just since yesterday. You weren't the only one who watched him walk away in his snug pants and Oxford shirt that somehow showed off his biceps. He was just that good looking. When you saw him without a shirt on, you'd probably faint and need him to revive you. When the bartender came over, you were chuckling to yourself at the idea of having sex with Bradley while he kept his shirt on to save you from that fate.
"Can I get you a drink?"
You looked at him in a daze, realizing you meant to choose a bottle of wine. You blurted out what kind you liked best, and with a nod and a smile, he turned to fill your request. And that's when you finally looked at the menu and realized the bottle was more than a hundred and fifty dollars.
"Oh shit." But it was too late. He had already opened it and was heading your way with it. You scrambled in your purse for your wallet, cringing at the idea of Bradley seeing the bill when you could have simply ordered a cocktail instead. Just as the bartender was pouring out a bit of the wine for you to try, you found your credit card successfully. And that was also when Bradley came back.
"They'll come get us when our table's ready," he said. "I told them it would be easy to find me since my date is the most beautiful woman in the restaurant." He watched the bartender pick up a second glass and said, "Oh perfect, you found some wine that you like."
You nodded and tried your best to pass your credit card across the bar undetected with your hand covering it. "I sure did."
Bradley's eyes followed your hand as he took a sip of the wine. "What are you doing?"
"Nothing," you told him, picking up your own glass with your other hand. You tasted the wine and nodded at the bartender, and then he filled up both glasses while Bradley reached for your credit card.
"That's not necessary, Gorgeous. You can put that away."
You waited until the bartender walked off before you shook your head. "Let me pay for the wine. I was distracted and just picked a random bottle before I looked at the price, and then it was too late because he already had it opened. It's expensive."
Bradley looked completely unfazed as he eased your card from your hand and tucked it back into your wallet. "I don't care about that."
"I do," you said softly in your embarrassment. "I don't want you to think that's what I expected."
Bradley laughed in response. "First of all, I would never think that. And second, I was on that aircraft carrier for so long, and this wine tastes so good, and you look so pretty... I don't even want to tell you how much I'd be willing to pay for that bottle of wine and our dinner."
You simultaneously felt better and a little warm. "Okay, fine. But next time we go out for dinner, we're getting burgers from In-N-Out, and I'm paying."
His smile grew as you sipped your wine which really was quite good. "So that means you want to go out again?"
You rolled your eyes up at him where he stood, his hand brushing your knee where it was crossed over your other leg. "I'm about to make an In-N-Out reservation right now."
"Perfect," he replied. "Which night? I have to work late a few days next week to get caught up on everything I missed while I was away."
"You're ridiculous," you told him with a laugh. "How about Wednesday?"
His fingers toyed with the hem of your dress as he said, "Wednesday's good. You also need to let me know when I can visit your classroom again." His words were so sweet, and his gaze was sincere, but the feel of his fingertips inching along your skin above your knee was something else. 
You set your glass down next to your purse and reached for his hand, letting his fingers slip underneath your dress as you met his brown eyes. When he teased your skin with his rough hands, you reached for his shirt, and Bradley came willingly. Salvatore's didn't provide the two of you with the same level of privacy as the beach last night had, but you didn't really care, and he didn't seem to either.
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You had the softest skin. How was he supposed to keep his hands off you? And that red lipstick made your little pout when he teased you even more delectable than he could have imagined. And he'd been doing plenty of imagining for the last few months. He'd imagined you in a variety of scenarios with him, but so far being with you in person surpassed everything his vivid thoughts came up with.
When he mentioned visiting you at work, you treated him to the silky soft feel of your skin, and then you literally grabbed the front of his shirt and tugged until he was kissing you. Oh god, he was never going to recover from this. He had to wrap his hand around the middle of your thigh to keep himself from going any further as you moaned softly into his mouth. He was absolutely starving and a little dizzy from the wine, but he was thinking about skipping dinner in favor of the solitude of the Bronco right now.
"Mr. Bradshaw?"
Your tongue was slowly tasting his when you jerked away from him as the hostess strolled over. Embarrassed, you turned toward the bar as Bradley grunted in response at the young woman who told him the table was ready for the two of you. And maybe that wasn't a bad thing, because feeling you up in the middle of the crowded lounge wasn't something he'd feel good about later. At least not on the second date. He'd bring you back here in a few months and see if the two of you even made it to dinner.
With a smile, he reached for your free hand after you picked up your glass. You halfway hid your face against his bicep as the hostess picked up the bottle and led the way through the lounge and into the restaurant. Bradley kissed your forehead and murmured, "If I could keep my hands off of you, this wouldn't be a problem."
You peered up at him through your lashes. "Hanging out on your couch alone is sounding better and better."
"Fuck," he groaned softly as you released his hand and took a seat at the table set for two which was overlooking the bay. Bradley pushed your chair in, and his thumbs met your bare arms. He took a few deep breaths before taking the seat opposite yours and accepted one of the menus as he listened to the specials while he looked at your face. He muttered some sort of response, and then the two of you were alone.
You emptied the remainder of the wine between his glass and yours, and then Bradley watched you lick a little droplet from your thumb as you smiled at him. "So which three dinners are you planning on ordering tonight?"
It took him a second to realize that he was holding an open menu even though he hadn't looked at it once. He cleared his throat and said, "Definitely some homemade spaghetti and meatballs. The last time I ate spaghetti, it was overcooked and sad, and I had to go back to my bunk and think about you to make myself feel better." You covered your mouth with one hand while you laughed, and it was the most charming thing he'd ever seen. "I'm so serious, Gorgeous. I got a plate of soggy noodles, and literally the only thing that made it better was imagining you teaching your class about military grade jets and aviation."
Your pretty eyes were glittering as you told him, "I keep extending my lessons on the topic, and you are completely to blame for that. After the first time you responded to us, my students asked about you every single day. They are completely enamored with you."
"Yeah? Just them? Or you too?" He knew his words were reminiscent of the way you'd tried to blame it on your kids when you asked him to send you a picture so you could see what he looked like.
"Hmm." You pretended to peruse your menu. "I'm thinking about the ravioli. Or maybe the penne with vodka sauce." Your foot tapped his leg beneath the table, and he had to fight the urge to reach under and touch your skin again. You were teasing him in every way right now, and he was absolutely loving it. When the waiter dropped off glasses of water and some freshly baked bread, he asked if you wanted anything else to drink.
"You want another bottle of wine, Gorgeous?" Bradley asked, deciding to tease you right back.
"Absolutely not," you told him, looking at him like he had two heads before kindly telling the waiter, "No, thank you."
He was still laughing when he picked up a piece of bread. "So we'll get spaghetti, penne and ravioli?"
"You don't have to order what I want," you told him, your foot still running along his calf while your expression dripped with innocence.
"No. I want to though." It was kind of fun spoiling you with something as simple as dinner. Vanessa would have made a comment by now about how much she hated the slightly kitschy, over the top restaurant, even if the food was supposed to be immaculate. You didn't seem to mind one bit that he ordered three massive entrees and intended to finish whatever you didn't. Vanessa always got embarrassed, but all you said was that you were excited to try all three.
There was never a lull in conversation. You actually listened to Bradley when he was talking, and he could have listened to you all night.
"So you know how last night I mentioned... that I'd never really thought about dating someone in the military who deploys for work?"
"Yeah," Bradley rasped, not sure he loved where the conversation was heading.
You looked a little apprehensive as you said, "I was thinking about it more last night after you dropped me off." 
"And?"
You kind of shrugged and said, "I think I'd actually be okay with it, as long as it's you. It almost feels like we got some big, scary thing out of the way already, you know? And I could always write to you, because I kind of loved doing that. And yes, Bradley, I am also completely enamored with you."
It was almost a shame that the food arrived then, because as you started to cut into an enormous ravioli, all he could think to say was, "I'm completely enamored with you, too."
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You were so full from dinner, you didn't know how Bradley could walk. He ate at least two times what you did, and then he insisted on ordering a piece of cheesecake. When you caught sight of the bill, you tried not to gasp, because it was more than you spend on groceries for a whole month. But he handed over his credit card and signed his name without even breaking conversation with you. And now you were discreetly grabbing a handful of mints on your way out of the restaurant as he held your hand.
It was late, and you knew he was still tired. He mentioned briefly that he had a lot of chores to do this week amidst some late nights at work, but you didn't know how you'd be able to wait until Wednesday to see him again. When he started up the Bronco and headed in the direction of your apartment, your mind flooded with questions, but he asked you one first.
"I already have plans tomorrow, but I don't think I can wait until Wednesday to see you again. What time do you usually get to school?"
"7:20."
"Okay. And what kind of coffee do you like?"
You couldn't stop smiling as you told him what you usually ordered on the rare occasion you had time to stop at Starbucks. You kind of already felt like he was spoiling you.
"Have you memorized everything I've ever told you?"
"Yep," he replied, his handsome smile evident in the street lights. "And I've gotta say, you're one of a kind, Gorgeous."
You honestly didn't want the ride to end. The fact that there was no buffer of traffic to add to the twenty minute drive made you pout a little bit. Bradley's deep voice layered over the music playing on the radio while he held your hand was intoxicating, but you made a disappointed sound as he parked in front of your building.
When he released your hand to kill the engine in the near darkness, all you could see was his handsome profile. "You thought the drive would be too much for me," you whispered. "But when I'm in the car with you, I don't want it to end."
He cleared his throat and softly said, "Well, we don't have to get out quite yet if you don't want to."
Your pout turned into a grin as you unbuckled your seatbelt. "I can tell you still need to catch up on some sleep. I don't want to keep you out too late, Bradley."
He chuckled and undid his own seatbelt. "Why don't you come a little closer and say my name again."
As you eased yourself onto your hands and knees, you scooted across the seat and whispered, "Bradley," with a little laugh.
"Closer?" he asked, and you crawled over to him until you were able to kiss his cheek.
"Bradley."
He turned his head so his lips met yours, and he whispered, "Closer," against your mouth.
You were immediately in his lap, your hands resting on his chest as the steering wheel met your lower back. Your lips found his scarred cheek just like last night, and you kissed your way along his mustache and the side of his nose. You let your hands drift slowly down over his abs until they met the leather of his belt, and you whispered his name one more time.
His big hands closed around your wrists as he groaned, "You really love teasing me."
You nodded and said, "I really do," as he guided your hands up to his shoulders and around his neck.
"You're really good at it, Baby. All those pictures of you in your bed are enough to get a man through a deployment and then promptly kill him once he's on dry land if he can't touch you immediately."
He kissed the inside of your arm, and you scooted your body a little closer to his. "You can touch me." Your words elicited a deep groan as he slid his big hands along your bare arms, leaving goosebumps in their wake. He kissed your lips, swiping his tongue against yours as his fingers trailed down your sides. You almost cried out when his thumbs grazed the sides of your breasts before he gently squeezed your waist and your hips.
You could invite him to stay over. You didn't think he'd turn you down if you did. But all you could manage to say was, "Bradley," between kisses.
He tipped his head back against the headrest and whispered, "I love the way that sounds." His eyes were glittering in the darkness as he looked at your face and your body, and you remembered his text message from earlier.
I don't want to rush things
It was hard for you to remember that yesterday in your classroom was the first time you touched him. The first time you heard his voice in person. As much as you wanted to lean in close and ask him to stay, instead you kissed his ear and said, "You promised me movie night on your couch. When?"
"Friday?" he asked, kissing along your neck. "Let me end the week with my Gorgeous girl?"
"Yes."
You were afraid you were going to melt right out onto the pavement when he opened his door, but he helped you down and kept his arm wrapped around you. Bradley walked a half step behind you in the darkness all the way to your apartment. While there was no expectation that he was going to join you inside, you ended up pinned against your door, because it didn't seem like he was quite ready to leave yet either. 
He was eager. You could feel it as his lips found your neck again. He smiled against you as he whispered your name in that deep raspy voice. "Since you don't like surprises, I'm telling you right now that you should expect to see me in the parking lot at your school on Monday morning. Sound okay?"
"Oh god, yes," you whined as he released you. There were so many things you wanted to tell him as he put a foot of space between your bodies, really giving you a chance to see his pink cheeks and the way he was breathing deeply. You blurted out, "I'm falling so hard for you."
His crooked little grin was back as he nodded at your door. "Lock it behind you. And when you get in bed, in my sweatshirt, send me another selfie."
"I will," you promised, and you did exactly what he said. A minute after you texted the photo, you got a message back from him.
I think I'm falling even harder.
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I'm so obsessed with them. She was so concerned about that bottle of wine! And he really wasn't lol. Coffee and burgers and a couch date coming up. This story will be 18+ soon. Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls
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thebluester2020 · 3 days
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[SDV] Infection AU
Summary: It was supposed to be another day on the farm. You'd wake up, check the mail, feed the animals, maybe even go into town to pick up some new seeds! But...when the wizard suddenly appears at your door to tell you that a mysterious plague had fallen upon Pelican Town and Ridgeside Valley, causing the townspeople to morph into hideous flesh-eating creatures while also emboldening the monsters of the Mines and Ridge to come out and attack all who aren't affected, you and your spouse stand as one of the few who aren't amongst the affected but...how do you both survive such a horrid new reality?
Warning(s): Some explicit character death (I've played Dead Space y'all, I'm not holding back on kids being man-eating monsters), Some good ol' angst, the Farmer really shines as a monster-slayer here, Y'all are gonna hate me for Shane's part and I'm not elaborating on that,
Note(s): I've been CRYING out for someone to make an Infection AU of Stardew ever since I saw it trend for MLP on TikTok. But hey, as they say, want something done? Do it yourself ig. I decided to only include three bachelors because A. I want to make a part 2 sometime since it's way too long as it is tbh and B. I NEED TO MAKE FANART OF THIS AU DUDE. I LOVE ZOMBIES AND DEAD SPACE MONSTERS
MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DNI
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About a week ago, Marlon had told you that an emergency commission had come up, one that was apparently so important that it needed to be put as your main priority over any other commissions you may have had at the moment. At the time, you didn't have a mind to think much of it when he explained the nature of the commission, that it was brought forth to him by an anonymous source. The commission spoke of a monster, one that displayed an "Alpha-like" nature over the rest of the monsters and was far more aggressive than the others.
Since the moment you took on this commission and began searching for this mysterious creature, you had a mind to think that Marlon was finally beginning to lose his sanity as you hadn't once spotted this mysterious creature...at least, until it was too late.
°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ
Sebastion : "The Long Walk Home"
You couldn't sleep.
You had been tossing and turning in your bed for hours before you finally decided to get up and go to the mines. And the culprit for your sleepless night? The emergency commission that was thrown to you by Marlon around two weeks ago. The fine details of the commission were forgotten by you by now but basically, the older man had went on and on about how this creature was a major threat to not just the region of Stardew Valley but potentially everywhere close to it!
The monster was described to be as big as a fully-grown Pepper Rex. Thankfully it was unable to breathe fire but it came with a different quirk, which was the fact it had a disgusting ooze about its skin. One that was rumored to make you dizzy and eventually burning with rage if you breathed in the smell for too long.
If you were to be honest with yourself, you thought Marlon was exaggerating a little.
And that thought only grew more and more as you continued to search through the deeper levels of the cavern with your poor spouse trailing behind you.
"What's this monster called again?" Sebastion said from behind you.
The two of you had been searching for hours now, looking under every rock and peeking into any crevice you could find in hopes of at least getting some type of hint as to what this creature was and where it may have been. "Don't know," You yawned. "Marlon didn't give me a name, just a description." You said, patting your cheeks to try and keep yourself awake as you started to feel a bout of sleepiness wash over you.
"It's really important and really dangerous as well." You added on before you looked behind you. "You know, you didn't have to come...you know that right, Sebby?"
Your husband flashed you a shy smile. When he had drowsily woken up to the blurry sight of you putting on your boots and clothes, grabbing your weapon from the weapon's rack. He stopped you and insisted on coming along with you. It wouldn't have been his first time venturing into the mines, especially in regards to the deeper levels, and he was good with a sword as well! But, more than anything? If this creature was so dangerous...he couldn't bear the thought of you facing it by yourself, even if he wasn't up to your level in terms of swordsmanship.
He at least wanted to offer support.
"I didn't have to but I wanted to. I won't let my spouse face a boss-level monster alone." The joke made you giggle a little before you stopped in your tracks and sighed.
"Well..." You took out your phone to check the time.
It was going on three in the morning and you had a busy day tomorrow. You had planned to visit the Skull Cavern in search of more iridium as well as buy some more Starfruit seeds from Sandy! "Think we should call it a night? I'm getting sleepy and I want to take a shower."
Your husband's brow rose a little. "You sure? You've been at this commission for around a week now, right? Maybe tonight is when you can finally finish it."
As he sheathed his sword, you snickered teasingly as you pinched his cheek, resulting in the man's cheeks beginning to tint ever so slightly. "I've taken longer on other things, besides, I feel bad making you trail after me. Plus, I don't think it would be a good idea to face a boss level monster while we're both tired as shit, right?"
Sebastion nodded his head in agreement before the two of you started off in the direction of the ladder. He never minded following you, no matter how long it took, in his eyes? Spending even a single millisecond longer around you was much more preferred compared to spending that time all by himself similar to how he did in the basement. But, once the two of you were out of the mines and felt the cool night air on your skin once again...immediately, you felt that something was...off.
When things suddenly became too quiet in the mines, you knew that there was something dangerous in the air.
The same could be applied to the outside. More or less, you don't think you'd ever felt unsafe out in the town but...tonight was different.
So, you slowly unsheathed your sword. "What is it?" Sebastion said.
"Something's not right- GAH!" You suddenly shouted and dropped your weapon when the wizard suddenly appeared in front of you, making you fall to your bum as your chest heaved up and down in fright.
But as you quickly picked up your sword and got up, about to tell the man off. Your words caught in your mouth when you noticed the wizard's appearance. He looked...bloodied and bruised, scratched in some places too. A stark difference from the typically noble and wise air he gave off. "Farmer, are you and your spouse okay?" He quickly asked as he checked you over.
Your eyes widened as he took your arm and looked you over. "W-We're fine..." You answered before he then walked over to Sebastion, looking over him like a worried mother hen. "Why? What's wrong? Why are you bloody?"
"Something's happened," He said. "The townspeople...they're-"
Your blood ran cold. "What happened?" Sebastion asked for the both of you.
"The townspeople-" A shrill yet guttural howl rang out through the air, interrupting the wizard and causing him to suddenly raise his hand before a strange see-through rune appeared out of thin air near the entrance into the mines.
"Why did you-"
"Half of the town is dead," The wizard said, a little bit more quietly this time. "There's some type of...virus going through the air. It's turning the townspeople into twisted versions of themselves."
Your breath caught in your throat as your mind immediately went to the monster you and your husband were just searching for a few minutes ago. "I-Is it...is it related to the-"
"No," You let a sigh of relief. "The virus is related to the Shadow people, however, that creature that you were tasked to kill may have been a variant of them."
A guttural roar from outside made all three of you jump, your heart pounding in your chest as you took Sebastion and tried to lead him to the train cart. "Well then, as fun as it is to talk to you wizard...we need to go-"
"I wouldn't recommend the train cart." He said.
Sebastion looked back. "Why?"
"Because the creatures are fast enough to keep up with a moving train cart."
You clenched your free hand, exhaling through your nose. "Then what do we do?"
"You sneak back to your farmstead. I have placed a barrier around your farm, protecting your animals and eventually you and your spouse's until you return."
"What about the monsters?"
"The barrier seems to have made the area invisible to their eye. So far, they haven't gone near."
Your attention then went to Sebastion as the prospect of sneaking back to your farm to avoid a horde of monster-turned-villagers was...frightening to say the least. Sure, you've had moments in the Mines where you've snuck past monsters and managed to somehow fool ghosts but this? You couldn't help the chill that went throughout your body, especially seeing as your spouse was going to be right there beside you. "Sebastian." You said.
Although he didn't look at you on account of looking down at the ground, his brows furrowed in thought. He at least hummed in acknowledgment of his name. "What are you thinking?" You continued.
"This is dangerous."
You scoffed, that was putting it mildly. "No kidding, but...I'm worried about you. The quickest way back to our farm is past your family's home and-"
Although you didn't continue with your sentence, Sebastion understood what you meant. You were afraid for him, you were afraid for his family and the potential happening that they were...not human anymore. You didn't wish that type of pain upon anyone, especially your husband. And if the both of you needed to take a longer, more dangerous route to hopefully keep his sanity safe. You were willing to make that sacrifice.
Eventually, Sebastion sighed. "I'm fine," He said before fully turning to you. He rubbed his hands up and down your arms. "Right now? You're my most important family, so long as you're safe? I'll live, I'll be okay."
"That's not what I meant-"
"You two," The wizard interjected gruffly. "The night wears on, it grows more dangerous by the minute and I need to try and secure as many more areas as I can. You must leave."
You both nodded in his direction before you looked back at Sebastion. "Ready?"
"No," He dryly chuckled before his hand rested on his weapon. "But, I have your back."
"Good luck you two, I'll make sure to check back in with you both in a few days."
When the wizard disappeared, so did the rune that was on the exit of the cave. Allowing you and Sebastion to quietly tiptoe out of the cave and...out into the silent night.
And by Yoba's name, it was eerie. You wanted to suspect that the Adventurer's Guild would be hustling and bustling by now, maybe Marlon would be attempting to gather as many weapons in a bid for them to be readily available for anyone who would need them. Maybe he'd be trying to make sure Gil was safe but...as you slapped a hand over your mouth to withhold a gasp, you saw the blood splatters on the ground.
Had he...
Sebastion came up behind you to gently shield your eyes away from the sight, gently urging you to keep walking. "C'mon," He whispered as the two of you made your way to the steps where the blood splatters continued to grow in frequency as well as the amount of blood that was shed until...you started to spot oddities with the blood.
On the side, there was purple blood, the stench was terrible. Like cow dung mixed with charcoal. A little further up near the curve of the path next to the bridge that lead over the small stream was a weapon, Marlon's sword no doubt, before more blood splotches started to appear again only...slowly but surely, they morphed into a more purplish color- "Hide," You whisper-yelled as you dragged Sebastion into some bushes the second you heard a deep clicking from up ahead.
Quickly the two of you crouched down, you took up the task of just barely peeking out from behind the bushes to get a good look of what was making the sound until...you saw it.
Easily, it stood as tall as a fully grown Pepper Rex and it walked on four legs like one too.
Its entire form was the shade of a raven's feather and it hulked with muscle lurking underneath its seemingly armored skin. Yet a peculiar detail to note was its lack of a mouth before your eyes trailed down to its paws where claws as long as your forearm lay, bloodied and some even having remnants of skin still stuck to the tips of them.
But...when you looked back at the face of the stalking creature.
Then you noticed the scar over one of its glowing purple eyes.
'Marlon...' You thought as your eyes started to brim with tears.
But the creature- or...Marlon didn't stay around for very long. He only looked side to side with a hiss before it stalked onwards, its thudding footsteps slowly fading away.
You and Sebastion waited a few more minutes until you finally decided it was safe enough to keep moving. Your hearts pounded in your chests as you made your way across the small bridge, each squeaky step setting off an alarm bell within you that screamed out that you were going to get caught any second. But, thankfully, the next long stretch of road was where Robin's home was.
Maybe- "Hey," Sebastion whispered before he pulled you to the side, around a corner where you both were decently hidden from sight.
"Should we stop by my mom's house? Maybe-"
"Of course," You didn't have to be convinced to see inside your in-laws house. Though, for whatever reason Sebastion wanted to, you yourself just wanted to check up on his parents and his half-sister. If everything hadn't gone to complete shit yet then...they'd still be alive and you could take them with the both of you and let them live on your farm.
"We'll need to be careful though." You sighed as your mind flashed back to Marlon, taking out your weapon.
"Y/N, they haven't-"
Your eyes narrowed. "I thought that way too, with Marlon." Sebastion huffed. "I'm keeping the weapon out," You pressed before you resumed taking the lead, your weapon out in front of you as the two of you lightly jogged until you were at Robin's house where...everything seemed to be fine.
Aside from the lights being out that is.
"Maybe they're sleeping?" You said, hopefully.
"We can go in through the garage." Without another word, your husband crouched down and tried to gently open the garage, the harsh squeaking making him and you freeze in your places for a second before he continued a little more until it was high enough for the both of you to squeeze under. But, once the two of you were in you slowly opened the door to the inside of the house.
Still, it was so eerily quiet...like death was waiting just around the corner.
"Get some food from the kitchen, I'll watch-"
"I'm fine," Sebastion said, gesturing to the sword on his hip. "I'll see if there's anything just...please, make sure my mom and sister are okay. Wake them up, anything."
You nodded your head before you walked off and looked around the house.
Your first stop was Sebastion's old room. You slowly creaked open the door and all you saw was nothing, nothing but Sebastion's old things and the smell of growing dust in the air.
So, you turned your attention to upstairs.
All before you stopped the second you heard dripping sounds upon the wooden floor. Your breath caught in your throat and your mouth went dry the second your mind immediately flipped back to Marlon and his monster-turned state, if it could happen to him then...it was obvious it could happen to anyone. But, for the sake of your husband? You prayed to whatever god was listening to you at this moment that his family hadn't experienced a similar fate.
Yet as you followed the noise all the way until you reached the end of the hallway, where you could see Robin and Demetrius' door slightly ajar. You tried to quietly tiptoe your way to the door before your jaw nearly dropped to the floor. An organ hung from the top of the door, the dripping noise being the- the blood...a gorey trail of flesh, blood, and even more intestines trailed all the way to the bed where...there Robin and Demetrius' bodies lay as a monster feasted upon whatever was still left inside of their cracked open stomachs.
What do you tell Sebastion?
Do you even tell him at all?
He couldn't know about this...you saw it in his eyes, the worry and concern he had for his sister and mother.
He'd be beyond heartbroken and you didn't think you had the strength to tell him, not right now when...maybe, j-just maybe you were seeing things. And you, oh so desperately, tried to convince yourself that you didn't see Robin and Demetrius' crops as you slowly continued to back up until you were in the kitchen once more where Sebastion was currently putting different canned foods in a backpack he must've taken out from his room.
"Did you see anything?"
You immediately tried to wash off the horror on your face. "N-Nothing," You stammered. "Just...nothing, it was dark."
As Sebastion slung the backpack over his shoulders, his brow quirked up a little. "Are you sure? You look like you saw something, you can tell me."
You shook your head again, placing your hands on his arms before you gently leaned your forehead into his chest. A heavy sigh escaped your lips as you shook your head. "No...I-I'm fine, I promise. I'm just still- I'm still thinking about e-earlier, M-Marlon and all."
"Oh," He gently rubbed his hand in a circle on your back. "Everything's going to be fine." He said. "We'll always come out on top, okay?"
Although you nodded your head to try and get him to follow you out of the house quicker, you couldn't help but doubt him just a little.
Robin and Demetrius were gone and his sister was turned.
You don't think that image would ever leave your head, those familiar traits of Maru still present despite her warped form. Like how Maru's form still had traces of that familiar purple undershirt she'd wear over her overalls or how there seemed to be cracked pieces of glass on her face, illuminated by the faint light of the moon.
However...one day you'd gain the courage to tell your husband what you really saw, for as you slowly approached the end of the path that led onto the farm.
Your only focus was making sure the two of you survived from now on.
°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ
Sam : "Pack Starter"
How did the apocalypse start?
A seemingly simple and straightforward question. But in truth? Depending on the person at least, it was rather broad and filled with so many possibilities, all depending on where you were personally from the start.
For some? They may have not first noticed that anything was amiss. Perhaps they were out in the woods taking a hike or maybe at home sleeping, looking at a movie rather than trying to watch the news! It would be a normal day or not until all they saw was...carnage.
Others, their start may have been more brutal. Being out in the city or in a place where a lot of people gathered was a rather "in your face" start to the end of the world. People would be screaming in terror as they ran for their lives, trampling happening at every turn as everyone would quickly turn to making sure they stayed alive and worried about other people last.
Perhaps some would take the new world and quickly decide on doing the essentials.
Rushing for weapon stores and grabbing anything that they could.
Food.
Maybe even to see their families.
All valid but...completely unlike how your introduction to the end of the world was for the apocalypse came to you last. It was peaceful in Pelican Town, about a few hours away from the nearest city! Nothing extreme happened here unless you wanted to count your trips to the Mines, the Skull Cavern, or even Louis and Marnie's not-too-secret relationship.
Of course, that was until tonight happened.
Where you were rushing door to door with Marlon after he woke you up by pounding on your front door and screaming to get up and grab your weapon.
You didn't need to be told the exact details to know that it was bad.
Despite your groggy, freshly awoken state. You made the immediate moves to barricade and secure your farm from whatever threat made Marlon's hair turn grayer than gray, but...when you had spotted one of the monsters outside of your farm. Your memory of your commission flashed back to you, of what you were supposed to do but the monster was as elusive as a slippery fish. The creature seemed to size you up and down almost, all before it slipped away and rushed to terrorize someone else.
"Fuck," You had whispered after locking the last barn door before your legs carried you back to your home to see if your husband, Sam had waken up yet. "Sam!" You cried out as you slammed the door open, expecting him to still be deeply asleep in your bed, ready to be woken up by you until...he wasn't.
Panic immediately filled your being as a cold sweat broke out on your forehead.
He was just here.
The both of you were cuddled up beside one another until you got up to open the door.
"Sam?" You went to another part of the house, upstairs this time. "Sam!? Sam! Where are you!?" You cried out. As you rushed all around the house like a headless chicken, you felt like a madperson. You were cursing at yourself, you should've checked on him first before anything else! Yet as you tried to slow yourself down and think, consider the options of where he may have gone, your mouth became dry inside of your mouth as you thought of the one place you knew he'd most likely immediately go the second anything went wrong in this town.
Home.
And with your answer, you took the extra few minutes to shuffle into clothes more suited for running rather than your bedtime clothes before you dashed in the direction of town. And when you arrived...the sight of multiple fires and the scent of ash filled your senses as you looked around.
Monsters that resembled four-legged versions of shadow people roamed the cobblestone streets. Howling in triumph as some carried bodies within their large jaws whilst others tried to scratch and claw their way into homes that seemed to be locked and barricaded securely. However, as you quickly crouched behind a bush, a creature stomped its way by.
You got the faintest peek at its claws.
Like daggers, you thought. Sharp enough to cut straight through a tree without even breaking a sweat. And as your eyes continued to tail the creature, it walked through fire without even seeming to let out a noise resembling pain.
The lava katana that you tightly gripped within your palm.
You couldn't help the slight feeling of fear that began to grip you at the thought that a powerful weapon like yours couldn't even think to burn it at the very least.
But, you shook the thought from your head as you pressed forward, sneaking down the same path you would've usually taken to get to Sam's house until you heard a shrill scream, causing you to pick up the pace every so slightly until...your stomach lurched at the sight of blood and innards.
Blood flooded the once heavenly green grass and intestines littered the streets, walls of homes and dangled from the tops of fences. Effectively turning the town into hell on earth until you finally reached the street Sam's home was on, causing you to stand up straight and- "Sam!" You screamed before you could think when you saw him kneeling, his body shaking ever so slightly here and there until you quickly slowed down when...
When you saw Jodi, her ribcage was exposed and cracked open as she was feasted upon a smaller version of the monsters you saw earlier.
Yet...you recognized that yellow and red striped shirt- or at least, the tatters of it that hung off from the creature. Its smaller yet nonetheless sharp claws bloodied as the body of Kent lied not too far away from his wife's.
"S-Sam..." You said gently, almost a whisper as you both tried to get to him first as well as not disturb the monster from its meal. "Honey, l-let's go. Please."
"Vincent..." Those were the first words he uttered, his voice shaky and clearly holding back a sob. "Vincent." He repeated.
This time, the creature looked up with a tilt of its head and a strange insect-like chitter. All before it slowly moved away from its meal and started to stalk towards Sam.
You readied your weapon, your eyes narrowing as you recognized that hunter-like crouch from similar monsters, both in the Mines and the Skull Cavern.
"B-Buddy?" Sam said, hopefully. "Vincent, we can fix this. Y-Y/N can help fix you, they know a lot of things! They can help, we can bring Mom and Dad-" Before you knew it, the monster launched itself towards Sam with a high-pitched snarl, causing you to spring into action and shove Sam aside before you swung your sword.
"NO!" You heard Sam scream from the top of his lungs, your eyes wide and your sword dripping with black blood as the monster hung off the end of your sword for a moment before...it fell to the ground with a heavy thud.
Still.
Dead.
"S-Sam." You said once the shock started to wash off from you. "Honey, that-"
Sam answered with a sharp inhale as you could've sworn his normally soft blue eyes turned red when he glared at you, tears streaming down his face before he looked back at the creature. You were about to crouch down and try to comfort your husband, make him see where you were coming from and your reason for doing what you did until...you heard snarls from the distance.
You'd have to put your emotions to the side for a little while longer.
Sam, he was allowed to be upset at you for as long as he needed to until he understood.
And until you both got out of this situation alive.
°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ
Shane: "Supplies"
It was a hot summer's day today. The sun was beaming down upon you and the cicadas were screaming out for water like they've never had before, but while you would have welcomed the arrival of summer in the past. Nowadays? You couldn't help the sour taste it left inside of your mouth! It was harder to grow stuff, crops were dead and there was no longer a place to readily buy season appropriate seeds.
You had to make weekly rounds back to the old supplies store just to try and keep your family of three, plus the pets alive and that alone was a trip!
The monsters that had arrived a little over a year ago were vicious, hungry creatures that spared no mercy whether or not you were a child or an adult.
Too many times did you toss and turn in your sleep at night when you remembered the scratched up and limbless body of Vincent outside of Sam's house on the night everything started, how he cried and begged for his brother to wake up despite...well...everything.
Since then, you haven't seen Sam in a while.
Or anyone else for that matter.
The town was quiet as there was nothing but abandoned buildings and homes. Everyone had already left a while ago, hoping to escape the monsters and their terror but you- well, your spouse insisted on staying, stating that the two of you had a lot to live for here and that there was no point in moving away from everything you had worked so hard for! And to a certain extent? You agreed with him, your farm and animals provided more than enough food for the both of you.
There was still plenty of supplies to be had so long as you knew where to look and every now and again? When you went to the Mines, you were able to find lost items that helped in fortifying the area around your farm just a little bit more from the creatures!
But then again-
"Y/N," A voice chirped from below. "It's hot."
"It really is, isn't it?" You agreed with a sigh before you took off your sun hat and handed it to Jas. "Maybe this will cool you down? Sorry I don't have anything better Jas," You smiled sheepishly, the little girl only smiling gratefully in return as she proceeded to put on the hat that was far too big for her then.
Then again...Jas was still here.
Marnie died at the beginning of the attack upon the town. When you had defeated the monster, Shane had rushed into the farmstead and found Jas hugging her stuffed animal in the corner crying and wondering where Marnie was, from what he told you. And although the little girl had her moments of sadness...all things considered, she was taking things well.
Her new reality with monsters and not being able to go outside as she pleased anymore, at least, beyond the boundaries of your farm, she was taking it well.
"Alright Jas, c'mon." You crouched down to allow the girl to climb onto your back before you carried her the rest of the way to Pierre's shop. It was both a way of making sure she didn't get tired as well as a way that...if something was here, you'd be able to run as fast as possible without worrying whether or not she was keeping up. But, thankfully, the two of you reached Pierre's abandoned shop without too much of an issue, causing you both to go in through the broken window you've both been using for a while now before you rummaged around the shop.
Although it was easy to take as much as you could from the store and haul it all the way back home, safely avoiding multiple trips off the farm.
You thought it would be good for Jas, now that Vincent was no longer around due to...reasons. It was good for her to get off the farm once in a while with supervision. Not to mention, after you finished your "shopping", the two of you made it a routine to go the beach if you could! Anything to hopefully keep Jas' childhood as intact as it possibly could be.
"What do you want to eat tonight?" You asked after letting out a frustrated sigh after seeing the summer seeds in the back of Pierre's supplies were all crushed.
"Pizza!"
Did you still have tomato seeds? You were growing some in your greenhouse so there wasn't too much of a fear of running out of the produce anytime soon but...
"Alright," You eventually caved in after deeming it not too much of a waste of resources to make the item.
"I think...I think pizza would also make Uncle Shane happy too."
You sucked in your bottom lip at the mention of your husband. Before everything went to hell, you and him were dating, the two of you even discussed getting married at one point! Shane was getting help for his alcohol addiction and was going to therapy regularly! Everything seemed to be going nowhere but up for him and you couldn't be happier, yet...as of lately? He had been in a stump.
There was no more therapy.
No more avenues to find a healthy substitute for drinking.
You'd never seen someone crave the taste of a beer like Shane had and it was only your luck that you had a few forgotten cans in your cellar. It was keeping him sane for now but, you worried for him. You'd have to figure something out quick, for all his hard work to be crushed just because the world decided to end at an inopportune moment...not only would it crush you, you knew deep down that it would silently crush Shane as well.
Yet, you tried shooing those thoughts away from your head as you zipped up your backpack and waved your hand for Jas to follow you. "Good idea Jas," You smiled. "I'll make you and Uncle Shane the best pizza ever!"
.
.
.
You were glad that Jas had gotten distracted by a mother hen and her chicks when the pair of you arrived back to the farm.
You planned to call her back inside when dinner was ready.
But...as you gently closed the front door behind you, your eyes trailing over the path of destruction inside your house. The worse immediately came to mind.
A monster attack possibly, but...there would've been blood and most smashed items rather than just bottles.
Shane wasn't exactly the type to leave your home a mess, he was good at cleaning to the point you joked about him being better at cleaning than yourself!
So, as you flicked on the lights downstairs. There was only one possible answer- "Where is it? Where'd they put 'em?" You could hear Shane mumbling as he searched the corners, nooks, and crannies of the cellar.
The scent of alcohol was heavy in the air as the spilled contents from the kegs were all over the ground. Shane's speech was slurred and as he moved around, not even taking the time to notice your presence, he more so limped like a shot dog than walked! You tried to cool your simmering rage, biting your lip and clenching your fists as you wanted to scream every possible curse word in the book at him.
He destroyed weeks' worth of supplies.
Ruined the house.
Ruined your hard work in this cellar...
All for a drink.
"Shane," You said.
No response.
"Shane." You said again as you slowly began to make your way to him.
Still, he didn't dare to give you a response. Not until you stormed the rest of the way to the man and slapped a hand on his shoulder to get him to pay attention to you. "Shane!" You screamed into his ear, your chest heaving up and down as tears brimmed your eye line."
"H-How could you?! Our- my hard work...everything, why-"
Shane grumbled as he half-hazardly pushed you away. "Where did you put it?"
"What?"
"The rest of the drinks, I need a beer."
"Shane, please." You begged as you followed him around the room, both trying to control your surging temper as well as to get his attention. "Fucking goddamn listen to me!" You roared, your hand grabbing his shoulder and forcing him to turn around.
"Why, fucking goddamn tell me why you did all this!?"
"I need a drink." He repeated, slower than last time.
"You already tore into my kegs!? How much more do you need?!"
He didn't respond, going back to ignoring you but instead opting to go upstairs.
It seems that the end of the world had taken more from you in this very moment than anything else had in your entire life. Supplies, as well as a partner you thought you'd call your husband one day.
29 notes · View notes
cclkestis · 9 months
Note
Hey there, I've always been wondering, what does the roman numbers in your blog mean?
hey! that’s how i decided to display my age at the time i last updated my little bio thing which,,,,,was a while ago now!
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nevvdrinksteaa · 1 month
Note
PLEASE Spencer answering a work call in the middle of sex??? Super smutty
just wanna say that this is my first request and it makes me feel special so thank you !!! hopefully you like this <3
pairing: spencer reid x reader
warnings: 18+ nsfw smut, porn with small plot, afab reader, fingering, p in v sex, post prison spence, riding, doggy style, and missionary (yall were busy), spitting kink !!, spanking (once?), face slapping (i’m not sorry), slight oral (f receiving), lots of pet names (baby, angel, pretty girl), let me know if i missed anything !!
word count: 1.8k (got a little carried away)
also note to everyone- y’all absolutely devoured my spencer post the other day, a little less than 800 notes last i checked, and i just want to say i was very caught off guard and appreciate it so much !!
+ i apologize for the overuse of commas & very limited vocabulary,, i feel like i used the same 10 words smh
+ NOT PROOF READ !!
~~~
“i was able to talk to the brass about getting the week off. the past few weeks have been tough and i think we all need a well deserved break.”
you were all gathered in the round table room for a meeting emily called. in the past two weeks, the team had been assigned three back to back cases; which meant three different unsubs, three different cities, and three different hotel rooms. you hadn’t slept in your own bed in fifteen days, already feeling giddy at the thought of snuggling up in your bed, binge watching mindless reality tv, and fueling yourself with nothing but sweet treats.
matt was the first to speak, already standing up gathering his things from the table, “as much as i love you all i’m going to rush home to the wife and kids, i miss their little faces”
you all followed suit, collecting all of your belongings and saying your goodbyes, all of you raving about your week off plans. you walked to your desk, grabbing your bag and keys. you walked towards the elevator, pressing the down button, watching it slowly fall from floor 10 to floor 9, before tapping your foot, slightly agitated about how long it seemed to be taking.
you heard footsteps heading your way, small taps on sneakers on the slick marble floor, before felt a slight nudge at your side “you know, being mad at it won’t make it work any faster”
you chuckle looking up, making eye contact with spencer before giving him a small grin. “i’m just really ready to get home.”
the elevator doors open, spencer waved his hand up, allowing you to go first, before following you in and pressing the main lobby button. “you in such a rush because you have a hot date to get to?”
you looked up at him and grinned, you felt spencer’s hand move to your back, rubbing the center in small circles with your thumb. you felt your face get hot and you allowed yourself to slightly lean into his touch. the elevator stopped at the lobby, a small chime signaling the doors opening, and you felt spencer’s hand fall back to his side before you both stepped out of the box.
you both made your way to the parking garage, spencer walking you to your car before he headed towards the station to take the subway. you got to your car, unlocking it and throwing your purse inside before looking up at him with a slight smirk “text me when you’re on your way”
he shook his head and laughed as he gave you a small wave goodbye and headed towards the subway.
~~~
it had only been three days since you were given the week off, enjoying the company of spencer in your bed two thirds of those nights. he texted you the same night as the encounter in the parking garage, eager to see you in a private setting.
“look how pretty you look sitting on my cock”
you were straddling him, your head thrown back with both hands on his shoulders as you tried to keep a quick pace. he had his hands pressed deep into your hips, helping you move in a fluid motion. you felt him hit your sweet spot every time you made your way down, letting out tiny whimpers at the feeling.
“i love when you use me like this, getting yourself off like a good girl”
you couldn’t hold in the loud moan you had been holding, feeling your stomach flutter at his words. you felt a slight burning in your thighs and you knew spencer’s shoulders held tiny crescent shapes from how tight your grip had become. you felt one of spencer’s hands move to your clit, rubbing small circles on the bundle of nerves.
he grabbed your chin, making you look him in the eyes. you looked at him and grinned, fucked out and eager before you felt a sudden surge against your cheek before he let his hand rest there, rubbing his thumb to ease the pain.
“you gonna cum for me angel?”
“fuck- yes spence, i’m so- so close” you couldn’t even hear the words coming out of your mouth, your heartbeat beating so loud your hearing going out.
you moved your head down pushing your forehead to spencer’s with your eyes tight.
“cum for me baby, wanna feel you tighten around my cock.”
you felt that tight feeling in your stomach, the mix of his skilled fingers and his thick cock rubbing against your walls caused your breath to stop in your throat, your release making you see stars. you stopped your movement, breathing heavily as you leaned down into spencer. you felt soft kisses on your head and face, peppering you all over.
“did so good for me baby, love watching you use me”
you smiled against his neck, starting to do your own kissing. you felt his breath hitch when you found the sweet spot behind his ear, the small mole behind it always guiding you to the exact spot. you took your time, sucking and biting at the spot, grinding your hips, ready to keep going.
spencer gave your thigh a quick tap, before telling you to bend over. you were quick to roll over, propping yourself up on your hands and knees before slowly wiggling yourself back and forth to him.
you felt a sharp pain on your ass, a slight stinging feeling before you felt a tight grip run through your hair. you felt your body being pulled tightly to his, his chest flushed against your back. he moved one of his hands to your chest, a his fingers glazing your nipple, his other moving to your neck, pushing his thumb and middle finger to just the right spot to apply pressure.
“i let you use me, now it’s my turn to use you angel” spencer had leaned down to your ear, kissing your jaw before pushing you back down onto the bed.
spencer leaned down slightly, gripping your ass with both hands before spreading them. he let a trail of spit fall to your eager hole, before he rubbed it onto your pussy, giving your clit extra attention.
you moaned and pushed back into his touch before you felt him enter you quick and unforgiving, your ass jiggling with every move of his hips.
“fuck- so fucking deep” you arched your back, begging your body to somehow take him deeper. you felt his firm calloused hands rub against your back before settling into a position on your hips, his thumbs pressing small bruises into your skin.
“taking me so fuck-”
spencer’s voice was cut off by his phone ringing, vibrating on the nightstand beside you, and you felt his hips slow down, letting out a soft sigh as he was considering stopping completely.
you felt him hesitate but needed him to keep going, pushing your hips back into his trying to keep both of your focus.
“spence, please don’t stop” your voice still unsteady, “just ignore it”
spencer pulled out of you, and you let out a whine as the loss of contact. you rolled yourself over, making yourself comfortable on the pillows expecting him to walk away to return the call.
instead he leaned back over you and pulled you into a deep kiss, holding your face in both hands. your lips parting slightly when you felt his tongue lick your bottom lip, allowing your tongues to meet.
spencer grabbed his dick, rubbing over your clit before he lined himself up with you, gasping when he pushed himself in.
“you’re so fucking perfect angel”
he pulled away, lifting your legs up to your shoulders and latching his hands to your thighs. he found himself moving slow and deep, like he was trying to memorize the way you felt around him.
you moved your hands to play with your nipples, rolling the hard buds between your finger tips. he bent down, pushing his weight into you, almost like he was folding you. he pooled spit into his mouth before he let it go to your clit, moving his hand to the bundle of nerves.
“want you to cum again for me pretty girl, want one more before i fill you up”
you let out a moan, sighing before you went to speak “gonna fill me-”
you were cut off by the phone ringing again, the buzzing sound making you forget your thoughts. spencer dropped your thighs and leaned over before giving you a quick kiss before he reached over to grab phone.
“spencer do not answer that”
he moved his finger to his lips, making a shushing motion “it’s emily”
you rolled your eyes, ready to kick him out and finish yourself off before heading to bed when you felt him move again. he moved his hand to cover your mouth before answering the phone.
“doctor reid”
you felt yourself get wetter, the sound of your slick filling the room, your moan mumbled behind his hand. spencer’s motion was relentless, his pace quick and brutal, jabbing your sweet spot with every push.
“i thought we were getting the week off”
your leg was lifted up, making the angle even deeper and you felt your eyes roll back, out of pleasure or annoyance you couldn’t tell. there was no way you were getting called in.
“i can get a hold of her for you, i remember her mentioning something about having a date this week”
you grinned, giggling behind his hand before spencer moved the phone to hold it on his shoulder, letting his now free hand to move back down. he never took his eyes off you, holding a shit eating grin as he felt you squeezing him tighter, squirming at how close you were. you furrowed your brows and pinched your eyes shut.
“i’ll be there in an hour”
you heard the phone beep, signaling the call was disconnected. spencer moved his hand away from your mouth down to your neck, cursing as he heard you gasp.
“did so good for me pretty girl”
his hips stopped deep inside you as you felt his cock twitch, filling you up. he groaned as he felt you cumming again, keeping his thumb in place to help your orgasm finish and you let a loud moan out in response. spencer gave you a long kiss, nipping at your bottom lip before he trailed his lips down your neck. he pulled himself out of you, grinning at the soft sigh you let out. he kept his lips on your body, trailing them down your stomach before reaching your thighs and nipping at the sensitive skin.
he moved his tongue and licked a long strip up your pussy, sucking on your clit before pulling up to look at you, shit eating grin on his face. “we’ve got roughly 30 minutes, that’s enough time for me to help you clean up, right angel?”
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mrs-illyrian-baby · 4 months
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5 Times There Was Only One Bed (and the one time there were two beds) | Bucky x Reader | One Shot - 4.7k
Whether it's on a mission, a work event or a holiday, your sleeping arrangements never seem to work out as planned. It doesn't really bother you until...it does. Confronted with a night sleeping apart, you and Bucky finally talk.
Warnings: 18+ for language, suggestive situations and sexism (but not from our Bucky he would never). Also rated F for fluffy and S for snuggling.
Written for the @bucks-and-noble Valentrope event - "there was only on bed" the reigning champion of tropes!
Divider by @firefly-graphics & @reveriesources
Masterlist | Bucky Barnes Fics
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Your first mission with Bucky Barnes went really well, until it didn’t. 
After successfully destroying an underground Hydra base you’d returned to your transport in a less than desirable state. 
“Fuck, four flats.” You huffed, poking the tyre with the toe of your tactical boot. 
“Fuel line’s been cut.” Bucky muttered from the front, “lucky they didn’t torch it.” 
Bucky quietly rubbed a gloved hand over his face, before looking up at the admittedly stunning night sky, he seemed to study it for a moment before making a quarter turn to his left and climbing up a ridge of sandy rock. As if dazed you followed him. You could see for miles thanks to the glow of a full moon, the stars dense and glittering above you both. It was almost romantic, if you didn’t have blood on your cheek and an empty gun on your hip. 
Bucky still looked like he could sweep you off your feet though, with his structured tactical vest making his broad shoulders look even wider, his wind swept hair giving him the look of a romantic hero on the front of a paperback, especially with one foot perched on the outcrop of rock above you. 
“Let’s go.” He pointed towards a glow rising from beyond the horizon and you’d started walking, doing your best to keep up with his long strides. You could see the motel, how far could it really be.
As soon as you climbed down the motel vanished and the reality of your trek set in. 
Around hour two Bucky slowed his pace to allow you to catch up. He didn’t speak much, just what was necessary, and sometimes a hello when he saw you around the compound. But he struck you as shy, rather than cruel or rude. He had checked on you after the mission brief two days ago to make sure you were happy with the plans and, when you were left at the drop off zone, had given you a few of his spare rounds. 
You were starting to flag, your steps faltering in the dust and your fingers frozen. Without the sun the desert was so cold the tips of your ears felt like they’d fallen off. Bucky slowed too, cracking a heat pack and handing it over, swapping it for your pack. 
“Thank you,” you whispered, teeth chattering. 
He didn’t say anything, just gave you a tight smile and turned back towards the motel, growing closer with each step. 
Three hours after you’d discovered the flat tyre, you fell through the door of the dingy motel room, exhausted, cold and starving, only to be met with the sight of one queen size bed and a single chair by the window. 
“I’m gonna sleep,” you slurred, unable to manage more than zipping off your tactical vest. You fell onto your back and tried to toe off your boots but they were too tight. Your eyes slid shut and you felt the sensation of Bucky sitting on the other side of the thin mattress, making you roll towards him slightly. His weight shifted and settled, the warmth of his body behind yours comforting after everything you’d seen that evening. 
He smelt nice too, despite the blood and sweat and gunpowder, he smelt like sandalwood and the desert air. It was all you could think of as you drifted into a deep sleep, how much you wanted to press your face into his back and breathe him in. 
The  next morning you woke to find Bucky already showered and dressed, pushing his damp hair back from his face and brushing his teeth while he called Torres for new exit plans. 
Your boots and socks were off, arranged neatly by the door, a coffee steaming on the bedside table.
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Despite all the changes a new team had brought, Bucky liked working with you. You were quiet too and didn’t mind when he was silent for almost a whole mission. You were efficient and skilled, but empathetic, always stopping during the fall out to ensure the team were together and protecting civilians whenever you could. 
So it was no surprise to him when you offered to share the bed at the hotel. Sam and Joaquín had long since retired to their room, but you’d both stayed at the hotel bar, silently emptying a bottle of red wine while Bucky continued his 100 Books to Read Before You Die list and you scrolled through your phone, catching up on everything you’d missed during the five day - “phone’s off, and yes, I mean you Agent” - mission. 
As soon as you retired to the room you knew there’d been a mistake. 
“Ah, shit.” You’d dropped your bag to the floor by the door and Bucky had almost walked into your back, peering over your shoulder at the very neatly made double bed. The only bed. 
“Don’t worry, I’ll take the couch.” Bucky had sighed, resigned to a night of lumpy, uncomfortable sleep. 
“There isn’t one.” You pushed your bag further into the room with your foot and Bucky brushed past to survey the space.
“The floor then.” 
“Don’t be ridiculous.” 
“I’m not.” 
“You’re not sleeping on the floor, the bed’s big enough for two, we can share.” 
You’d said it with such easy grace that he’d felt almost insulted that his chivalrous offer was so easily deflected. Then you’d returned from the bathroom smelling like mint and almond oil, your loose pyjamas hanging off one shoulder and just like that, he gave in. 
By the time he’d change and brushed his teeth you were already asleep, holding a pillow close to your chest with your leg well over onto his side of the bed. Carefully he moved you back to your side and slid under the cool sheet next to you. 
He woke first the next morning to find you still attempting to occupy the majority of the bed, your face relaxed and mouth slightly open. Bucky indulged in a moment of quiet comfort before getting up. You wouldn’t want him staring at you, you’d be embarrassed that you were trying to cuddle him and it’d ruin the fragile bond you were forming with each mission. 
By 9am you were both making fun of Joaquín’s terrible hotel bookings over pancakes and coffee. 
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“Why can’t we just ask for directions?” 
“Are you seriously asking me that?” 
“Yes?” 
“Because we just crossed a border illegally, we have no papers, no passports, we’re lying low.” 
“They’re hardly going to ask to see our passports, Bucky.” You sighed, hitching your bag higher on your back. 
You’d been walking since 5am that morning, crossing through a forest trail to avoid borders and rendezvous with Torres in a village that should have been a few miles away so that you could evac together. 
5am seemed a long time ago now that the sun was setting. You’d stopped briefly to heat up a can of beans, a “late lunch, early dinner” Bucky had called it, smiling at you over the steaming mess tin you were sharing.
The scalding heat had dissipated now though and you were tired. The memory of his hand touching yours as you ate still lingering. 
“We’re not going to find him tonight, we should stop.” Bucky suggested, “I’ll find a good place to camp.” 
Suddenly you were grateful that Mr Overprepared had packed a tent. 
“Good idea.” You agreed, rubbing your hands together. 
“Well, I will be, you didn’t bring a tent, did you?” He said, walking deeper into the woods, running his foot over the ground, looking for somewhere flat. 
Your heart sank, he was right, you’d laughed at him when he’d attached it to his already full pack and he’d said you’d regret it, a teasing look in his eye. Well. You were regretting it. It had started raining a few minutes before, gentle rain drops that got heavy in each gap between the canopy. You had no doubt it’d be heavier soon though, and with the sun setting you didn’t relish the idea of being wet and cold out in the dark. 
Bucky stopped and turned, lowering his pack to the floor between two large trunked trees and those twinkling eyes made butterflies take flight in the pit of your stomach. A boyish grin crossed his face as he got to work. 
Ten minutes later and the tent was up, strung between the trees and extra protected with some fallen foliage. 
Bucky unlaced his boots and placed them between the inner and outer tent before climbing in, when you didn’t follow he poked his head back around the flap of the tent, patting the unrolled sleeping bag next to him. 
“C’mon, you really think I’d make you sleep out there?” He was almost laughing, and the sound was so welcome, so stupidly content despite your situation, you could barely stand it. 
You squeezed in, using the inner fleece layer from your coat as a blanket. Bucky lifted the side of his sleeping bag. 
“C’mon,” he mumbled, eyes already closed, when you hesitated he tugged you closer until you were tucked against his chest. He rearranged your coats on top of you both until you could feel your fingers again. “Warmer?” 
“Yeah, thanks, Bucky.”
He didn’t respond, his breathing heavy and even, beneath his sweater you could hear the steady thump of his heart as it lulled you to sleep in his arms. 
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Bucky hated these stupid events, he’d only been persuaded to come because you’d done those big round puppy dog eyes and said it’d be no fun without him. Joaquín had asked too and, although Sam had joked that it’d be more fun without ‘Mr Grumpy’, Bucky knew he’d only been teasing. 
But it was you that had convinced him. It was those eyes, the way your voice had gone up a little and you’d pouted in that silly way you did when Joaquín took the last doughnut at mission briefings. He couldn’t resist. And he had no idea what to do about it. 
Behind him he could hear another team talking about you, how they didn't understand why you were always working with ‘that asshole Barnes’ so much. 
In the anonymous dark they joked about you, about him, as if you were a reward for a guard dog. A babysitter for his more violent tendencies. Worse, disgusting, accusations about how you'd come by your place in the team. He suddenly missed his mother, she'd have washed their mouths out with soap.
He felt sick. 
Bucky took a long swig from his beer and chased it with a shot of whisky, anything to stop his teeth from grinding. 
They were wrong on so many counts. You were skilled and fearless, soft and fierce at all the right moments. But you didn't care about him, or Sam or Joaquín for that matter. Not in the vile, disrespectful way those men imagined. You didn’t men like them - him - messy, unpredictable, unstable. You didn’t really need anyone. 
But Bucky - he took another swig, trying to stop the swirling feeling in his chest - he cared for you. He couldn't stop thinking about you. And as angry as he was at what he heard, he was equally ashamed for wishing that you did want him. 
He’d been watching you dance with Joaquín and one of your other agent friends for more than an hour now. Your body swaying and rippling in time to the music, your dress ghosting over your hips in a way that made his mouth dry. It was one thing to work with you in army fatigues or go to meetings with you in your casual jeans - the stealth suit had been really pushing his patience recently so he didn't want to think about it - but he could at least keep himself under control while your skin was covered. Then you arrived wearing this dress. The neckline alone made him want to sink to his knees in front of you. 
Joaquín danced away with your friend, you winked at the lieutenant and smacked his ass as he passed - you were definitely drunk. 
Alone you swayed to the music, still in your own world.
“She’s so fucking drunk -” 
“Absolute embarrassment -” 
“Can’t believe they let her in -” 
Bucky slammed his drink down on the bar top and grabbed his leather jacket, stalking across the dancefloor like a shadow, the lights skimming over him. 
You were facing away from him and he couldn’t resist, his hands finding your waist so naturally, his body melting into yours, matching the slow roll of your hips so he could lean into your ear. 
“I think it’s time to go,” he whisper-shouted above the pounding music. 
“Bucky!” You exclaimed, completely ignoring his suggestion, “dance with me!” 
You span in his hands, leaning up and into him, your hands around his neck, twisting into his hair. The little tug you gave sent pleasure shooting down his spine. God he was weak, his body moved without his say so, slipping a leg between yours and - fuck - you were grinding against him. He was lost. 
The song ended, fading into the next as the lights flickered and he regained enough of his faculties to remember you were drunk, very drunk. 
“C’mon, doll, let’s go, I’ll get you some water-” 
“You still here, sweetheart? Don’t you think you’ve embarrassed yourself enough.” 
Was he still here? Fucking asshole. 
Bucky rounded on him, keeping you close with a hand around your waist. 
“You boys having a good night?” You grinned, unable to hear their cruel words over the music. 
You were just so - good, so kind, even when these pricks were trying to tear you down, your first instinct was to be friendly - he couldn’t stand it. 
“I said -” the agent grinned, dipping down, placing his hands on his knees and levelling his face with yours, that patronising glint in his eyes, “are you still fucking here you stupid bitch?” 
Bucky saw red, tucking you under his left arm, pushing you behind his back as he had so many times during missions, and smashing his right straight into the agent’s nose. 
“Didn’t your Ma teach you to speak to ladies with respect?” 
Blood dripped onto the dark dance floor, a circle forming as the other party goers backed away. 
Bucky gave the man one last disapproving look and then his attention was solely focussed on you, leading you out past the crowd until you were outside in the freezing air. He draped his jacket around your shoulders and watched as you snuggled inside. Was he dreaming or did you inhale deeply when he did it? 
“M’sorry, Buck.” You hiccupped, leaning into him, eyes half shut. 
He took your weight gladly, “s’okay, you didn’t do anything wrong, it was those idiots in there.” With staggering steps you made it to the next street over and Bucky said nothing as he unlocked the door. 
“Where are we?” You slurred, your ankles twisting in your heels with each step. 
“My place, I thought you could sober up here while I call you a cab to get you back to your hotel.” 
He settled you on the couch and tried to walk away, but there was a hand hooked in his belt loop. 
“F’got you live in Neewww York,” you closed your eyes, resting your head against his hip as you continued to mumble about ‘the big apple’, he willed himself to breath deeply, he was struggling to keep his body under control. 
“Yeah - what’s your hotel called?” 
“You called me ‘doll’,” you giggled, your fingers closing around his belt.
“I did, sorry, it just slipped out. Your hotel?” 
“Dun worry, I liked it - can I stay here? I sleep here.” You let go, only to curl up on the sofa, your dress sliding up your thighs. 
“Sure.” He sighed. 
Bucky scooped you up again and nudged the door to his bedroom open with his hip, the duvet was still rumpled from the night before. Another night of no sleep, at least it was because of you and not another nightmare. And now you were here, nose pressed into his chest, ready to sleep in his bed. 
“Okay, I’ll be out here if you need me, g’night.”
“Stay.” 
“I’ll be right outside if you need-” 
“Stay.” 
And it was those puppy dog eyes again, the pout, the voice, the hand on his belt. 
Even though he knew you’d sleep like a log, hogging his duvet and encroaching on his space, even though he knew you’d be embarrassed in the morning, probably hungover as hell. Even though, come the morning, he was right. He still had the best nights sleep he’d ever had since he bought the place. 
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You hadn’t been this relaxed in a long time, you were sure if you stood up you’d simply melt into a puddle. Sun warm skin, the buzz of a few too many afternoon beers in your system and the sound of laughter as Sam, Joaquín and Bucky continued to try and catch a single fish had lulled you into a half sleep, dozing on the deck of the Paul & Darlene 
“Hey, you want another beer, doll?” 
Bucky’s voice drifted over to you and you cracked one eye open. He’d unbuttoned his shirt half way down his chest, the white cotton sticking to his sweaty, sunkissed skin. He hadn’t been able to drop the nickname since he'd had to rescue you at the gala. Although you'd done your best to keep yourself away. The way his eyes burned into you when he turned your way, the memory of his body imprinted into yours, his leg pressing against you, the shadow of a hardness that made your mouth water. 
He'd been the perfect gentleman, of course. Had made sure you were safe and comfortable, even escorted you back to your hotel in the morning after a huge home cooked breakfast. 
He was a gent. And you were an embarrassment. It ate away at you until you couldn't even look at him. 
“Hmm?” 
“Beer?” He asked again, holding out the bottle, the cap already popped off. 
“Uh, yeah, thanks.” 
He flopped down beside you on the deck, the last of the day fading beyond the horizon and leaving you bobbing in the inky abyss where the sky met the water. 
“You feeling okay?” He took a swig and you watched the condensation on the bottle trickle over his fingers. 
“Oh, yeah, fine.”
“You look dazed, that's all, don't want you getting sunstroke on us.” 
Bucky looked genuinely concerned and you figured, from the sudden sick feeling inside, that maybe your heart had skipped a few beats or flipped over or something. 
“Uh -” Fuck, did he have to leave his shirt open like that? He asked a question, what was it? 
“Are you okay?” He used the back of his right hand and placed it against your forehead, “you feel really hot. Maybe you do have sun stroke.” 
“I’m fine, honestly.” You shrugged him off, but went looking for a bottle of water anyway. 
As the boat made its way back to the dock you watched the lights of Sarah’s house flicker on in the distance. Sam had invited the three of you to stay, taking up all of Sarah’s space and the room on the boat, while her and the boys went into the city for the night. It was a generous offer, one that you couldn’t say no to after months of hard work without a break. 
In the pitch dark you all stumbled back up the driveway, only to find Sarah on the porch. 
“Sarah -” Sam jogged to reach her first, concern written on his brow. 
“I’m alright, Sam, don’t fuss. It’s just Cass, ate too many beignets and threw up so I thought we should come home. He’s upstairs with AJ. Sorry we messed up your plans.”
Bucky took the suitcase from her hands, “it’s your home Sarah, you haven’t messed up anything.” 
She threw an arm around his shoulders and hugged him sideways, a familiar gesture you’d seen her make before, but for some reason your tummy twisted, jealousy stirring. 
“Means we’ll need some rooms back though, I know I said you could all stay but-” 
A chorus of voices filled the air, refusing to let Sarah apologise, before you started to get organised. 
“Well Cass needs his own bed, that’s a given.” You said, worried that the young boy might be ill as well as over excited about his food. 
“Of course,” Joaquín agreed. “Sarah, you’re obviously taking your room too. We wouldn’t ask you to give that up. I’ll go on the couch in the sitting room.” He smiled. 
You looked between your other two colleagues, but Bucky spoke first. 
“Well if Torres’ taking the couch I’m not going to argue, I’d rather be in a bed even if it is on a boat.” He ruffled Joaquín’s hair affectionately and the younger man shoved at him. 
Sam looked at you, “you can take my bed, if you want, I can change the sheets -” 
“I’ll sleep on other sofa -” 
“You’ll share with me, right doll?” 
The three of you spoke at once, and Sarah raised her eyebrows then her hands before opening the front door, “I’ll be in bed, you kids figure this out yourself.” 
“Bucky -” Sam started. 
“Sam - we’ve shared before,” there was a glimmer of hope that glowed inside of you when Bucky stepped closer, his shirt fluttering open again in the breeze, revealing his toned chest and that dusting of dark hair, creeping under the buckle of his jeans. “Besides, wouldn’t be the first time you’ve made us share, would it?” Bucky joked, nudging Sam as they went to collect more blankets and bedding, “what about that hotel-” 
His voice faded until all you could hear were the crickets in the distance, you’d forgotten about Joaquín until he walked past, turning backwards at the last moment so he could see you again, “if you don’t want to share with Barnes…” he let the offer hang in the air and you were torn.
Really, you should protest and ask for your own space. But then you’d missed the sound of his steady breathing beside you, the weight and warmth of him when he turned over into your space. In fact you’d missed him completely, even if you’d been avoiding him on purpose. 
Secretly you hoped the bedroom on the boat would be cooler now the sun had gone down, perhaps he’d hold you like he did while you were camping. 
Sam let you back onto the boat, making sure you had enough blankets for two distinct sleeping arrangements if you wanted. 
Bucky slid into the cool cotton sheets in only his boxers and, shyly, you followed. Expecting to sleep alone you’d packed shorts and a vest, revealing more than you really wanted to considering he clearly didn’t return your interest. 
Bucky kept politely to his side of the bed, his arms awkwardly stiff at his side when he turned away from you. Unable to stop yourself you turned too, watching the strong line of his back relax as his breathing evened out.
The boat bobbed gently, lulling you to sleep. You were vaguely aware of a strong arm tugging you closer, the smell of Bucky’s shampoo and sun cream and the weight of a bed rising to meet you. 
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Everything went perfectly, again, until it didn’t. 
Intelligence? Secured. Exit? Executed to perfection. Adrenaline fueled burger stop where Bucky wiped a drop of sauce from your lips exactly as you planned? Complete. Motel booking? Perfect?
You and Bucky stared at the two motel beds. 
In the entire time you’d been working together you’d never really managed it. There were either no rooms, the room was wrong or there was no room at all, just whatever you could find. And now there were two beds and you felt sick and your head hurt and after everything you’d seen and done today the last thing you wanted to do was sleep alone. 
“Doll?” Bucky placed a hand on the small of your back and reality came screeching to a halt around you. 
“Sorry, Buck, I must be really tired, I’m going to shower and get in bed. Do you mind if I go first?” You were already half to the bathroom, the zip down on your tac suit, were you imagining Bucky’s eyes dropping down to where your skin was revealed? 
“Of course, whatever you need, I’ll just be…here,”
After a perfunctory shower consisting of a dribble of hot water that quickly turned into a freezing cold torrent, you returned to the shared room. 
Bucky hurried past, his body brushing against yours in the doorway, firm and muscular, yet you knew that being held by him was soft and warm. You tried not to feel too sad that there’d be no excuse for getting close to him again for the rest of your trip. 
By the time he was finished you were tucked into bed, trying to read the paperback you’d found in the draw because the television signal was terrible. 
He stood in the window, a shadow against the light filtering in through the thin material of the curtains, ruffling his wet hair with a towel, his sweatpants so at odds with the man who’d been by your side just a few hours before. This was a rare sight, one you were privileged to see. 
Bucky tossed the towel onto the chair by the door and then sat on the end of the other bed, watching you read from the corner of his eye. You knew because the last three paragraphs had become a blur of words, your focus solely on Bucky. 
“Maybe we should go to sleep, we’ve got a long drive tomorrow.” 
“You’re right.” 
You both slid down into bed, separately, and you’d never felt so alone. 
In the darkness you could see the shape of him, facing the door with his hand tucked under his pillow, and somehow the darkness made you braver. 
“Would it be weird if I said I missed you?” You whispered. 
Bucky rolled over, but put his hand back under his pillow, no doubt he had something hidden under there, he usually did. 
“I miss you too.” 
You shuffled back, letting the sheets fall further down the bed, “I know you have your own space over there and you probably don’t want to be all cramped up with me, but if you wanted to share still -” 
Bucky was out of his bed before you could finish, slipping under the sheets. He’d taken off his sweatpants before getting into bed, his legs bed warm against your own and you bit your lip, trying to focus on his face and not on his almost naked body just inches away. 
“Hi.”
“Hi, doll.”
“You don’t have to keep calling me that.” 
“What if I want to?” 
He was so close, his breath minty when it ghosted over your lips, his nose touching yours, his long eyelashes making his crystal eyes look brighter. 
“What if I missed you being in my bed? What if I always want to share with you?” He reached his hand out, cupping your cheek. 
“You do?” 
And then his lips were on yours, so soft, his tongue slipping past yours as you gasped. One cool metal hand and one callused, drawing you closer, a leg between your thighs, your bodies rolling together and - “oh, Bucky.” You sighed into his mouth, letting him tug you into him. 
“I - I want that too -” you squeezed out between kisses, “I wanna always - always - be in your bed - I - I always hoped we had too.” 
“You did?” He pulled back, stroking a thumb down your cheek and over your kiss bitten lips. 
“Uh huh, I did,” 
“You been sabotaging us this whole time, baby?” He laughed, his eyes sparkling. 
“No,” you laughed too, turning your head to kiss the pad of his thumb, “maybe I should’ve though.” 
“Maybe,” his hand left your face to cup the back of your neck, drawing you down for another languid kiss. 
“How long?” 
“How long, what?” 
“How long have you wanted -” his question trailed off into another series of featherlight kisses. 
“Since, ugh - Utah?” You offered shyly, embarrassed to admit that you’d been head over heels from the start. 
With a groan he rolled you over, slipping his body between your open legs, his hips settling just right against your own. “Fuck,” he dropped his forehead to yours, “we could’ve been doing this the whole time.” He admitted, lifting his head to smile down at you. 
“Well then I guess we have some making up to do,” you linked your hands behind his head, tangling your fingers in his hair. 
“I guess we do, doll.” 
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michaellangdonswhore · 9 months
Text
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warnings: again, smut. put me in a fucking hospital.
word count: 5.5k
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You were, by far, Jonathan Crane's least favorite student.
You knew it, and it was complete bullshit. You were always on time, always in every class, and always completed the work. You had always had such good grades in every class, but not with him.
While not giving you the worst grade imaginable, you were never able to get over an A-, which pissed you the fuck off. Obviously, to any other normal student studying psychology, they'd take the A-, but not you.
And again, nothing over an A-. There was the frequent B+, sometimes B, and when you really pissed him off he would go as low as a B-.
You've done everything you could to get him to like you. You would ask questions, clearly put extra effort into the homework, and even applied to laboratory studies that he ran. You hated not being liked.
However, at this point in the year, you had given up on trying. You still did everything you were supposed to do, because you wanted a good grade, but you hadn't bothered participating or showing any interest anymore. You had decided to focus more on your other classes. Due to this, you had been working late into the night, causing you to be exhausted for your 8 AM lectures with Crane.
You were exhausted, trying to pay attention. Your head hurt so much for looking at a screen for so long last night.
Crane is flipping through a slideshow, and you find yourself dozing. It's not that this stuff bored you, you had just already learned it back when you took AP Psych your sophomore year of high school.
You snap back into reality when you hear your name being called.
Crane is singling you out with an annoyed expression on his face. You turn red because everyone, all 400 other people in the class, are staring at you.
"I'm sorry. Is this boring you?" He puts his hands on his hips.
"No-" You begin.
You're stammering. You normally don't have such a rough time with public speaking, but being downright exhausted and being singled out for nearly falling asleep in class is extremely embarrassing.
He pauses for a moment and stares you down.
You feel as if you were naked, as if you were completely exposed to him. You didn't like him looking at you like that, like he was taking into account every imperfection.
"As I was saying..."
Thank god.
He resumes to what he was talking about before and you're more alert, heart pumping full of humiliation. You're taking notes now, typing quickly and probably annoyingly loud (you can tell because he keeps shooting you small glares every time you hit the spacebar).
Finally, the hour is up and he reminds everyone about the homework due that Friday. You collect your stuff and head out the door. You don't realize, but he watches you leave.
Everything you do irks him.
Maybe it was because your first paper challenged his psychological beliefs, or because your intelligence challenged him in general. But literally everything about you pisses him off.
Your loud typing, your questions that challenges his lectures, how you turn everything in on time, how you flawlessly converse with the other students. He is so desperately waiting for you to slip up.
As previously stated, you were putting less effort than before into his class. He picked up on this. You were turning your papers and chapter readings in the last minute, you weren't asking questions, and you were even falling asleep.
You had three days to complete a portion of the assignments given. You completely forgot about it.
Due to your tiredness and your weakening desire to try for the class, you had forgotten to write down the homework in a planner that you always checked daily.
Crane is a quick grader, and usually he always grades your homework first; more specifically, as soon as you turn it in.
You realized you didn't do the work as soon as you woke up that morning for your 8 AM class. You had never ever missed an assignment. Ever. And you had no time to do it and make it to his class on time. You were freaking the fuck out.
It's okay. Maybe he hasn't graded it yet.
But no. He was such a strict grader. He was harsh.
Whatever. You may as well hope for the best.
To distract yourself from your predicament, you talk to the boy who sits next to you in the class. It's just smalltalk about the workload and about an upcoming test.
You stop talking when Crane clears his throat. You shift back in your seat and open your laptop.
"It's a Friday. It's 8 AM," Crane begins. You think this is going to be the introduction of a psychological speech. "For all 399 of you that did your homework last night, go enjoy your Friday morning."
People being looking around and whispering, not sure if this is a trick, but you know it's not.
You're freaking out. Your heart is racing and you cannot believe that he would actually do this to you. Usually teachers will just give you a bad grade and call it that, but to single you out and have the entire class leave except for you is an all time low.
"I'm not messing with you," Crane continues. "Go. You know who you are."
He's looking at you dead in the eye and you stay put as people slowly get up to leave, looking around to make sure others are doing the same. You avoid his gaze, looking at your computer screen.
Soon enough, everyone is out of the large lecture room, some looking back to see the one person who didn't do their work.
Once the door is shut, and everyone is completely out of sight, Crane locks both of the doors and looks up at you.
"Are you deliberately trying to fail my class?" He questions. "I thought you wanted to be outstanding."
You can't find words to say. He scoffs and moves to his desk, shuffling through papers and bringing out a decently large stack to over to you. It feels like hours pass by as he walks up the steps to you and drops them onto your desk.
You look at them, confused.
"This is the homework that was due at midnight." He explains.
"It's never so much..." You stammer. You can feel his hatred burning into your skin.
"It's what's due next Wednesday, Friday, and the following week too. Let's see if you can get this done by.... hm," He checks his watch. "By the end of the period?"
"All of this?" Your eyes widen.
"When's your next class?" He asks.
"You're my only one today." You continue to avoid his eye contact.
"Then you can stay." He says. "Until you finish all the work."
"But-"
"I can't trust that you'll do it." Crane says, taking a step back from you. "You need to complete it. In front of me."
"Please, Professor," You try to defend yourself. "I've been-"
"I can assume what you've been doing, you've almost fallen asleep in my class." He scoffs.
You feel your cheeks heat up with embarrassment over him getting the wrong impression. Does he really think that low of you?
You take a deep breath. You'll just have to deal with this.
"Do you have a pencil?"
He grabs a black pen from his desk and looks up to you, motioning to sit in the front row. Close enough. You swallow your pride and grab your things and the stack of paper, walking down to the seats in the front.
The class itself is an hour, but it took you almost five to complete the amount of homework he gave you. The readings were long, and the quality of work was demanding. You were eager to do well, to prove yourself.
You hate that he hated you.
His eyes were on you the entire time you did your work. The silence was loud, but you pushed through it. You got three weeks of homework done, and proudly put the stack back onto his desk.
"I'll see you Monday, Professor," you smile, then walk away.
After that, you tried harder; harder than you tried compared to every other class you took. You did this, not to get him to like you- but to get back at him with the fact that you knew your shit; you were a good student. You sat in the front, did side research, and spent nights studying for his endless quizzes. And he wanted to fail you to make you stop what you were doing, but you were getting all the answers right and you both knew that. He wouldn't want you taking anything to the next level.
With you in the front, it made it harder for him to not be distracted by you. Mid speech he would find himself locking eyes with you, disrupting his words and leaving him stammering for a brief moment. Ever since you've upped the eye contact, you've gained more control of the situation.
You arrived in class that Wednesday; the situation in which Crane forced you to stay and do two weeks worth of work in front of him occurred around three weeks ago. You're sitting in the front in between two empty seats; no one likes to sit in the front in Crane's class. It's usually only filled with around three to four people. Crane isn't in class yet, which is weird considering he's always there early, before anyone else even gets there. The class is almost about to begin and he's never been late.
Soon enough, it's one minute after the class is supposed to start and he's still not there. You start feeling antsy, wondering where he is.
Finally, he walks in; two minutes after class is supposed to start. So unlike him.
He places his briefcase on the desk and begins setting up his computer while everyone takes out something to take notes with.
"Now, you all know what I specialize in, I hope," He states, not breaking eye contact with his computer.
He specialized in phobias. Apart from dedicating his time to teaching you, he was a therapist mainly for fears.
"I'm sure we all know what exposure therapy is, correct?" He asks. Pretty much the whole class nods in unison. "Good. For those of you not on the same page, it's the type of therapy which someone is exposed to their fear or trauma."
He begins flipping through his slideshow, giving more and more information and lecturing about it, but you can't help but notice it's an almost bias review.
You're left with homework to write a review on some boring documentary on the history of exposure therapy and a pretty long excerpt of the textbook you all were reading.
So, you did your work and followed all of the instructions. You wrote a review on exposure therapy.
The next Monday, you get to class and you sit in the front row. There's a big stack of paper on Crane's desk, and you assuming that you're getting a pop-quiz, but no, that's not the case.
Crane's waiting for everyone with his shoulder rested on the large stack of papers. Once the time hits 8, he begins.
"I printed out all of your outlines," He begins. "I've made some comments and given some feedback. We'll spend the class working on them."
He starts calling out names and one by one, people receive their papers. You're sort of anxious- you left a pretty negative review on exposure therapy, something that he seemed so passionate about.
"Y/N Y/L/N." He says, saying your voice with more of an annoyed tone than the other students. You get up and grab your paper from his hands, tugging harder due to his firm grip. Clearing his throat, he continues calling out the following names. You go back to your seat, nervous to look at the paper. When you sit and look at it, your stomach dropped.
There's nothing on the front page. Then you look at the second.
See me after class.
There is literally nothing but a see me after class.
Oh my god.
What did I do?
Was he offended at all by what was written? Surely, that wasn't your intention... yes, you wanted to piss him off, but you had some respect for him. You didn't want to actually maybe- make him insecure about his work?
Class seemed to take hours to go by; you didn't even know what to do about your paper. He gave no other feedback other than to see him after class. How were you supposed to work with that?
You looked around at your classmates typing away. You're annoyed that he actually helped them.
See me after class.
At least give me feedback on my fucking paper.
Everyone then realized the time and began to pack up. Crane stood up from his desk and took his glasses off.
"Remember, papers are due Friday!" He manages to get out before people start heading out the door.
You put your things in your bag, trying to act out to your classmates as if you were leaving. You felt so embarrassed. You hated how he kept embarrassing you and how he had the power to do that. It was infuriating. You felt him staring at you as you packed your stuff up, moving slower, nervous that he would call you out.
You took your time, though, waiting till everyone was out of the room.
With everyone else there, you felt so confident. You were one of the smart ones and you at least had witnesses, but alone with him? You were completely inferior. He could quite literally ruin your life with a bad grade and could easily tarnish your image, being the head of Arkham and all that.
"I found your paper quite interesting," He says, emphasizing quite.
"I'm sorry-" you begin. "I didn't mean to offend you."
"Offend me?" He scoffs. "You think you offended me?"
"I just- I know this is what you do, right?" You stammer.
"I'm interested in your point of view." He says. "About the pain, how it's long term. I'm interested as to why you seem so against it."
You shrug.
"What's your biggest fear, Y/N?" He asks you. "What is it? Failure?"
"I'm not trying to fail."
"Oh, yes, you've proven that." He clicks his tongue. "Sitting in the front, turning things in quickly, wearing shorter skirts. Don't think I don't notice what you're doing."
"What?"
"You write intensely about the struggle that people with PTSD-"
"Wait," you interrupt him. "What did you say?"
"I'm trying to discuss with you what you've written."
"Professor, my clothing choices have nothing to do with me wanting to do well in this class," you say. Now you're offended.
Instead of apologizing, which is what you think any decent person would do, he looks you up and down and scoffs.
"You're wearing tights."
"What?"
"Surely, those must be uncomfortable. You're not wearing those to satisfy yourself," he says.
You grow red, and angry.
He keeps humiliating you.
"Who are you trying to impress?"
"Will you stop?" you groan in frustration. "Why don't you just let me get by like you let everyone else get by? I do everything you ask!"
"I want to know who you're trying to impress."
"I'm not trying to impress anyone," you hiss, finally looking up at his crystal eyes.
You know it's disrespectful, but you turn to walk away and to leave.
"No, no. We're not done."
You ignore him, walking towards the door, but he quickly beats you to it, shutting it and locking you in.
"I said we're not done." He said, completely composed. "Sit."
"I want to leave."
"Your biggest fear is failure, yes?" He questions. You don't nod or shake your head, but it is pretty much true; you hate failing. You need to succeed and be good at everything you do. "Sit. I can very much make that fear come true."
"I do everything," you repeat. "Everything. I do it on time, I'm here always, I'm prepared for everything."
"Can you just fucking-" He pushes you down onto the seat next to his desk. "Sit?"
You weren't expecting him to physically force you to sit down, but you could pick up on the pent up frustration he had with you.
"The off the cut sweater, no bra-" He points out.
You weren't wearing a bra. You were surprised he had picked up on the fact- you could've been wearing a strapless, but no. He was right.
"Are you even wearing underwear?" He whispers.
You're flushed.
What the fuck was going on?
You thought he hated you.
And yeah, you knew he was an attractive man, that's what made this whole thing pretty exciting, but you never thought you would be sat down with him leaning over you saying things like this.
"Let me see."
"Professor?"
He grabs you off the chair and pushes you onto his desk, spreading your legs for you. Everything was moving too quickly; this all felt like a fever dream.
He tugs at the middle of your tights, ripping them open to expose your- and he was right- bare pussy. He lets out a chuckle.
"You're not trying to impress anyone?" He questions, again, peering up at you.
You try moving your thigh to cover yourself, but he forcefully keeps them open.
"Who was that boy you used to sit next to... Tim, is it?"
To be honest, you really didn't know that kids name. He was just someone you sat next to out of habit since you had picked that seat the first day of classes. But you hadn't been sitting with him for weeks at that point.
"Is Tim who you're trying to impress?"
"No!" You argue, still trying to fight the grip of his hand off your thigh. "I told you... I'm not trying to impress anyone."
"Hm." He says, placing two fingers on exactly the right spot of your clit, slowly rubbing in circles. . "You're not even trying to impress me?"
You stay silent, for a brief moment.
"Not in this way..."
But it's past that point now. He's already touching you, rubbing faster, and your exposed pussy is laid out right in front of his face. You're embarrassed and self conscious. He's too close for comfort.
"Yeah?"
The fingers once on your clit are now entering you. You still can't comprehend the situation.
But for him, he was putting you in your place. It was enough of the looks in class, the semi sexual and revealing clothing, the obvious need for his approval and to show him she was as smart- maybe even smarter than him himself.
"Is that why you're letting me touch you like this?" He asks, using the two fingers to pump your pussy.
It's out of your control but you're getting wetter the longer and faster he fingers you. It's beginning to show, beginning to drip down his fingers and onto his wrists. He notices this, then stops and looks.
"Disgusting," He huffs before licking his fingers clean.
"That's disgusting," You repeat at him, glaring a little, but you can't help but want his finger- more of him back inside you. You feel empty, desperate for his hands back on you.
"I don't see you asking me to stop."
You're silent, again.
He smiles, kneeling back down and spreading your legs open again, this time with a more forceful grip. He doesn't use his fingers this time, devouring you with his hot mouth and basically digging in.
He was really good at this. To be fair, no one had ever actually eaten you out, but you had never felt anything like it. He moves his fingers towards you again and fucks you with them as he sucks and licks at your clit. He was freakishly good. You felt something drip down your thigh; you didn't know if you were sweating or if you were fucking leaking. By the sound of it, probably the second one.
He removes his fingers and dives deep into your pussy more, making obscure sounds as he does so. He stops and looks up at you.
"Take your shirt off. I want to see your tits," he demands.
You comply; he's already seen a lot.
"Fuck, they're perfect." He says, now standing over you, playing with them and poking and twisting at your hardened nipple. He's pushing his hardened clothed dick into your bare pussy, giving you some friction has he sucks on your neck and plays with your nipples.
He grabs your hips and flips you over, putting you on your stomach and leaning you over the desk.
He kneels back down, eating your pussy again; he can't get enough of it. He can't get enough of the small whines escaping your throat and the way you leak and how you shake when it feels good- or when the pleasure becomes too much.
He adds his fingers in again, this time three, and you let out a louder, but not too loud, moan than usual.
"Professor-"
"You can take it." He assures you. "You better take it. If you can't take this how can you take my cock?"
You just weren't used to it- you had been fucked, but not for so long. He keeps licking and devouring your clit while pumping in and out of you. You feel so full- on the brink. You feel hot, and god you feel good. You don't even realize it, but you're riding his mouth and his fingers.
"You know, I wasn't going to let you come," Crane begins between breaths, keeping his face close to your pussy so you could still feel him. "But now that I think about it... I want you cum drunk on my dick. I wanna make you cum over and over again until you're a fucking mess."
He goes back to sloppily and messily eating you out again. It was so dirty; the noise, what was leaking out of you. You then felt that familiar feeling and you couldn't stop it; no matter how wrong this felt or how humiliated and exposed you felt, you couldn't stop yourself from moaning like a mess and cumming all over his mouth.
You needed a second to recover, but he stood up and grinded his clothed dick against you. You weren't ready for the friction, wincing over the contact with you sensitive clit. He grabbed your neck and pulls your back to him, kissing you, continuing to grind.
He unbuttons his pants and undoes his boxers, his large thick cock springing out, begging to be touched. He pushes one of your legs up onto the desk to give him better access to you.
"You're fucking soaked," He says as he teases himself some more, collecting what's came out of you as some lubricant.
He keeps rubbing your clit and the outside with his dick, back and forth. It feels good, but it's not enough. He pushes harder with his dick on your clit, continuing to hump you.
"Professor, please," you look back at him, trying to guilt him into giving in and fucking you, but it's not that easy.
"Shut up, and let me take my time." He says. He continues this for a little, before getting a new idea. "I want you to cum on my cock without me fucking you."
"What?"
He pulls you towards him then on his lap on the chair next to his desk.
"Grind on it." He demands, holding you in place by your hips. "Get it soaked."
You hesitate, but he's impatient. He pushes you down and moves your hips for you until you begin to do it with him. You grind your pussy against his cock, stimulating your clit once more. It didn't feel as good as his mouth, and god it probably didn't feel as good as his dick would feel inside you, but it felt good. And you were so fucking horny, you were on the brink of cumming again.
"Yeah, yeah, you got it," he praised you, rocking your hips back and forth. He digs his nails into your hips, definitely leaving some cuts in your skin, but you didn't care. You were so close. He begins to bounce up, pretending to thrust into you, adding to your pleasure. "That's it, you- oh fuck, yes, cum on my fucking dick."
You're dripping onto him as you ride out your high, clenching around nothing. It seems to last for a while, wrapped up in all the pleasure combined with his dirty talk.
He angles his cock towards your entrance and pushes into you- he feels hot and he's sensitive due to teasing himself. But no- he doesn't want to cum yet. He wants to put you in your fucking place. And even if he does cum, he has no issue continuing and even fucking a baby into you. Then, you'd have to walk around with the shame.
He gently picks you up, but then harshly slams you up and down repeatedly onto his cock. You've had no time to readjust after cumming a second time, and you were extremely sensitive.
"Slower, professor, please," You cry, burying your face into his shoulder. "It hurts..."
"Shut the fuck up."
He grabs you by the neck and pounds up into you, rubbing your clit as well to add to the sensation.
Yes, it feels good, but it's so overwhelming you can't help but tear up. Crane notices this and it goes straight to his head.
"Are you fucking crying?" He scoffs. "Fucking crying for me?"
He picks you up, keeping you firmly attached to his dick, and throws you over the desk again. He's fucking you deeper and at an animalistic pace; like he fucking needs this.
"Keep crying for me. Keep fucking crying."
He harshly grips your tits, twisting your nipple in the process.
"Fucking perfect tits, perfect pussy, perfect everything. You fucking strive for perfection- but you're letting me fucking ruin you. Is this how far you'd go for a good grade?" He laughs, fingers deep in your clit.
You can only moan in response, but this doesn't satisfy him.
"Fucking answer me."
"Yes," you cry out.
"Yeah, you're just a fucking whore who'd sleep her way to the top if that's what it took." He says, tugging your hair back, your sweaty bodies pressed closer together.
His words are filthy, but you're fucking cumming again.
He's laughing, mocking you for doing so.
"You fucking like being treated like a bitch, don't you?" He says, fucking you through your third orgasm. You don't know how he's not tired. As you expect, he doesn't give you a fucking break. You're worn out at this point; almost numb.
"Professor, I don't know-"
"You don't know if you can keep going?" He questions. "Yeah, you can. I'll fucking make you keep going. What was that... your third orgasm? Let me see if I can double that."
"Professor..."
"I'll stop when you give me three more."
You feel like you're going to pass out; the pleasure had become too much, but you were so fucking sensitive that a fourth one had come quickly. Your pussy was so swollen and red, but he had not gotten off of you.
"You're fucking..." He brings you back to the chair and places you on top of him. "You're fucking leaking all over me, fucking hell. So wet... do you hear yourself?"
You could hear yourself. It was disgusting. It was filthy.
"Aren't you embarrassed?" He asks. He slows down his pace, and you know he's teasing you. "Embarrassed that you're whoring yourself out to me like this? To a professor that so clearly disliked you? This is what you do for my approval."
He slows his pace some more.
"Would you do this for any other professor, Y/N? Let them fuck your pussy till you have nothing left to give? Bounce on their cock the way you do for me?"
"No, professor," you shake your head, trying to bounce faster but he keeps your hips in place, restricting you. He had succeeded- made you cum drunk and fucked you stupid, but this wasn't enough. He needed more. "No, no, only you. I'd only do this for you."
You're squirming around on his dick. He's stopped moving at this point, just staying in you.
"Stop fucking moving around. Don't you want to impress me?"
"Have I not?" You begin to regain some of your strength with this somewhat of a break he was giving you. "Have I not impressed you, professor?"
You give him puppy eyes as you gain some control of the situation, his grip loosing and you bouncing on his cock at a pace you like.
"I want to impress you, professor," you say seductively. "I want to- fuck!"
You start chasing your high again, you didn't even realize that you'd ever be able to cum this many times.
"Fuck!" You repeat. Crane is letting you take control, enjoying the show of you riding his cock, using him for your pleasure. "Do you like this, professor? Do you like when I fucking bounce on your dick like this?"
You had never heard yourself like this, or ever expected to talk like this. You had never felt so confident.
"Have you imagined this professor?" You continue. He's obviously at a loss for words, not expecting this side of you. "Have you imagined fucking me? Have you imagined bending me over your desk and eating me out till I came all over your face? My tits? Putting me in my fucking place?"
His hands found your hips again and he's helping you ride his cock. He's loving the words coming from your mouth.
"God, I think you wanted this more than I did," you laugh. You're so close. You wanted him to talk, but his reactions to your words were enough for you. "Make me cum again, professor, please. I- fuck!"
He's pushing into you and bouncing you up and down quickly and you're riding out your fifth orgasm.
He pulls you off of him and lays you out on the desk again, licking up your sore pussy. He hums while doing this, telling you how you taste so good. You're so- so sensitive, though, and you can't help but cumming on his tongue again not even seconds later, letting out a string of incoherent words.
That's six.
You look at him, but he's positioning himself in you.
"You said six-"
"I say a lot of things. I want you to cum on my cock again." He says, kissing your neck. "Last time. I promise."
He pumps into you, at a softer, but still quick pace. You feel so incredibly numb, but he still manages to work you up quickly while fondling your breasts and pressing hot kisses into your neck.
"Ah- fuck." He pants, fucking himself into you. "Fuck... gonna cum in you. Want you to fucking carry me around for the rest of the fucking day."
You don't object- your hearing was probably a little impaired at this point.
"Yeah, you want that, don't you. It's like a fucking award to you."
He's holding you closer now. You both are so sweaty and sticky.
You're about to cum again, but he grabs your throat tightly.
"Fucking wait for me. Don't be impatient."
As hard as it is, you listen to him. He speeds up, becoming sloppy before he cries, "Fuck, cum! Cum all over my fucking- ahhh, yes, fuck."
He shoots hot loads into you as you clench around him, milking more out of him. He doesn't stop, continuing to fuck you until every last bit of his seed has marked you. Even after he's done, he gets a few more strokes in before he pulls out, showing the combination of you and him leaking out of your pussy. He pushes you onto the floor and presents his dick in front of him.
"Clean it."
You obey, wrapping your mouth on his cock and licking away the filth that the two of you made. He groans and pulls you off of him.
"You'll get me hard again." He says.
He puts all his clothes back on and hands you your sweater. Your nipples are hard, poking through them now.
"I look forward to your next draft of your review." Crane says calmly, as if what just happened didn't happen.
"You- um..." you stammer, brushing your fingers through your hair. "You didn't give me any notes."
"I didn't?" He questioned. You shook your head. "Well, stay again after class next session. I'll go over it, personally, with you."
"Oh." You blush. "This wasn't a one time thing?"
"Y/N..." Crane looks at the floor. "I'm your professor."
You felt awkward. Of course it was a one time thing; how could it not be?
But then he looks back up at you.
"You don't want to fail my class, do you?"
3K notes · View notes
lundenloves · 11 months
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DAD SIMON AND THE 141 VISITING TO CHECK THE KID OUT FOR THE FIRST TIME PLAPSSLSLSPSLSLSK AND HE GETS SO JEALOUS WHEN OTHERS HOLD HIS SWEET BABY PATOOTIE PRINCesss
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↳ no warnings | f!reader | 1.6k
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Anon, I may have strayed from your original thoughts a little. I hold my hands up. At this point, he has been back and had time with her already this is just 141 meeting her. And it's very? Thought-provoking? Possibly not how you imagined? Alas, voila.
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Having a newborn allowed for zero quiet. Nothing of the sort was even imagined, sleep was out the window and tiredness was the new trend. It became tougher when Simon had to go back to work, leaving you behind with a long apology and his credit card. What was the card for? You weren’t sure, but made sure it was used like fuck. £17.32 on McDonald’s delivery didn’t seem as painful with his money.
And that’s exactly what you were doing, happily. Baby sleeping on your almost bare chest with a haul of food around you in bed. It was only seven but you had no reason to be up and about, and the reality tv wasn’t going to catch up on itself.
In fact, you were about to reach the episode climax of Love Island. Someone had been mugged off and the producers were keen on making a drama of it, issuing a re-coupling. But. Right before you could skip the credits and fast-track to the next episode, the bedroom door swung open and you screamed. Waking your daughter who naturally began to cry.
"Fucking hell." You frowned at Simon who had quickly shut the door behind him upon seeing you. He wasn't due back till tomorrow. "Scared me.” The scold in your voice was one he ignored, picking up a milk-stained shirt from the floor.
“Put something on, christ.” His voice gruff as he shrugged his jacket off and reached for another t-shirt after wearily tossing the other back to the floor, holding it out. “What, Me?” Black-painted eyes narrowed at you upon holding his child out to him, asking for a trade.
“No. The other person in the room.” You deadpanned, widening your eyes in silent effort for him to take her. “Yes, you.” He did as told, looking down at his daughter blankly. “What’s the rush anyway.”
Although, your question was answered by a loud echo of laughs from downstairs. “All of them?” In reference to the only three men it could be.
“I didn’t agree.” He met your eyes, holding the baby back out to you for the brief second you passed him. Sauntering out to the hallway before he had called your name stiffly, eyes pleading relief of the absolute fucking threat that was his baby. “Take her.”
“You’re fine.” You waved a hand, walking downstairs with him reluctantly following.
It was a shame really, you couldn’t help but snort at the way he held her so high up his chest. “Don’t let Johnny hog her.” Was the only instruction you gave, wandering through to the kitchen where his unit were stood.
“Alright?” The Scot rubbed your shoulder in greeting, “Solid birth n’ all that?” His brows furrowed in genuine care although the question was worded oddly.
“Solid. Johnny.”
He tsked, clutching a hand to his opposite bicep. “Tends to be like that, ae.”
“Speaking from experience?”
He laughed although his eyes fell from yours to over your shoulder. Price held his hand on your back in acknowledgment, his eyes softening with a nod your way. “Christ.” He muttered at the sight in Simon’s arms, taking his hand back and removing his hat. “Congratulations.”
Gaz wrapped an arm around you, leaning his head atop of yours on his shoulder. “It’s mad.” He said more to himself than anyone else, catching eyes with Soap who for once was lost on what to say.
Simon’s eyes were stuck on the baby in his arms, refusing to look up and see the group reaction. Her small hand reached upward, and his finger met her halfway, face unchanged as she wrapped her hand around it. No one said or did anything, only Price who took a step forward to pat the lieutenant's shoulder. The moment was tender, and understood by everyone as such a thing even by Johnny who crossed his arms over his chest and contrastingly pout his bottom lip out to you. “You wanna hold her?” You spoke to him, crossing the space to Simon who had finally looked up. 
“Go on, then.” He pushed his jacket off, hanging it on the back of the kitchen chair. Simon’s eyes met Soap’s, a look of trust, threat and relief spread across his face when you had prompted him to hand her over. “Just a wee thing, ae?” He comfortably took her from Ghost, gently bouncing her and smiling when she had cooed.
“Tiny.” Gaz added, looking to Simon who shifted in his spot - looking around the room, finding comfort in anything other than the tiny being. He was still so unsure of himself. Arms crossed together over his chest in anxious replacement of the tac vest he would usually slot his thumbs into. “Fresh to the world.” 
“Five weeks old.” You looked at Gaz. “Brand. New.”
He shook his head at the idea of a baby, looking to Price who was subtly enough fixated on his lieutenant. “How’re you doing, Simon?” He asked firmly, in a tone Simon wouldn’t ignore or sigh at, one he recognised as important. A tone of order.
“Fine.” He kept it brief, locking eyes with Price who nodded slowly. 
It was hard to read Simon. Period. Even after years being with him, you still couldn’t predict the way he was feeling or what he was going to say about a situation. He distanced himself from his daughter the first few days, intentionally waiting until you woke to sort her out instead of facing himself and his past in the form of the harmless baby.
His allowed paternity leave wasn’t granted extension of more than a week, therefore he left you. And admittedly, although he wouldn’t ever say it, he was glad to get some time away. It had only been a week and he was already itching to be alone, no words you spoke could comfort him. Only the mindless living of a deployment. His desired remedy. 
Ghost was dead silent that whole mission. The unit knew why, although they were tightly instructed by Price to keep their mouths shut. Not to even ask about the kid. So they didn’t, not until today, when it was brought up by the man himself. “Ask about the kid, then.” He said gruffly, unlacing his boots and stomping his feet wide of each other, eyes darting between the three men opposite him.
“She alright, yeah?” Soap asked, receiving a dull nod. 
“We’d love to meet her sometime.” Price continued cautiously, looking to Simon who then nodded, eyes dropping to his boots. There was a moment of silence before he had spoken up in answer to Price, elbows rest on his knees, hands clasped together and rubbing against his mouth. “You don’t live too far from base do you?”
“An hour.” He cleared his throat, “I live an hour away.” 
“We could stop by,” Price was the one to suggest it, dipping to reach a bag behind Soap’s drawer. “This is, from, us.” He rubbed the back of his neck, holding the small gift bag out to Ghost who only looked up at it. 
“I’m going home tonight.” He said matter of factly. “Just.” A sigh. “Tail me and hand it in to her, she’ll appreciate it better than I will.” Soap smirked at Simon’s falsified reluctance, a hidden invite into his lieutenant's domestic life was on the table and of course he jumped at it. 
And you? You knew Simon had given a skeleton of an invite. It was obvious. 
So now, as your daughter had been passed to Price from Gaz, it felt oddly comforting to you. For Simon, you couldn’t tell as much from the way he was constantly sighing and moving in his spot - obviously discomforted by the idea of his unit being in such an intimate space of his but it was blown over by the end of the short visit. “She’s going to be tall.” Price tilted his head at the baby, thumb swiping across her small arm.
“Oh aye.” Johnny nodded, nudging Simon who stared down at her. “Think she’ll have your eyes?” His efforts granted a shrug from the man next to him.
“The colour keeps changing, but,” You caressed her head in Price’s arms, “They are his shape.” The tone of your voice warming Simon enough for the thought of a smile, the side of his lip curling just enough. 
Gaz nodded to a bag Soap had left on the counter, “There’s some stuff. We didn’t get much time.” He reached for it, holding it out to you. The purpose of the trip.
“And there’s a card with some money.” Johnny added, “See yous’ round the New Year for the wee yin.” The bag had generic baby gifts inside, although it swelled your heart to think of three large military men shopping around for each thing inside
And the card was a treasure in itself, one you would certainly keep, handing it to Simon so you could hug Gaz and Soap, receiving a kiss to your cheek from Price after taking the baby back. “Maybe see you lot closer to Christmas?” You asked, bouncing your daughter when she had begun to stir.
“Course.” Price nodded to Simon, following the other two out the door. You heard them talking about the baby from the threshold, watching as they piled into their respective cars and pulled off with waves and a single salute from Soap. Because, Soap.
Simon sighed once the door was shut, looking down at you. There was something between warmth and sympathy in his eyes, wrapping an arm around the back of your neck and kissing your temple. “You putting this up?” He mumbled, holding out the card before pressing his thumb and pointer finger together against his daughter’s tiny feet in sudden affection. 
“On the mantel for now, probably.” You rubbed his arm, following him through to the living room. 
There was new lightheartedness around him after they had left. Like having his unit meeting his daughter was somehow a weight that had finally been shrugged off after the fact. Even prodding a few more kisses than you would usually receive from him. His brain worked in mysterious ways, although you were not complaining. 
Not now anyway.
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simon 'ghost' riley taglist: @vamppxncess @freakonfilm @crowbird @misshoneypaper @tallrock35 @fluffmonster @islanderr @blueoorchid @abbugadu @lea3773 @coldflapjack @rayhawk05 @han11dh @liishook @melovetitties @fallonx @rvjaa @fuckmelifesucks @bhayatsara @takeomisbitch @local-spidey @konigsblog @penutjuice @babychoi03 @sheluvzeren @sparklingtragedy @maviee @wiserebelpartypie @daddylorianisastateofmind @bhayatsara @mistydeyes @writingmysanity @johfaam0 @idkjoequinn @gressseyy
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eddiernunson · 6 months
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"Do You Want One?" | Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader | 18+
Summary: your cousin shows you around Hawkins High for your first day, and is surprised to say the least when her sweet cousin hooks onto Eddie Munson. Just seeing him brings a swoop to your stomach you've never quite felt before, and become desperate for more of him.
Warnings: late bloomer!reader, virgin!reader, mentions never having experienced lust of the sort or really understanding what it is, corruption!kink, little praise, taking of virginity, slight perv!eddie
Authors' note: I, myself didn't feel any sort of sexual attraction or lust until i was 15/16. I tried to write the reader innocent without being infantilized. Also, these photos are for aesthetics only, not much of the reader is described, except for height. Also, my editor pulled through, despite her busy schedule, thanks @forget-you-morelike-fuck-you! This is a birthday present to @bebe07011, always one of the first to read <3
Word Count: 9k
The subtle, yet annoying ring of your alarm yanks you out of your sleep, a sleep that took hours to settle into after anxious tossing and turning. A yawn overtakes your body as you sit up, looking around sleepily at the boxes that contain the contents of your room. You whine as the stars overflow your vision from the rubbing of your eye.
Your tongue clicks against the roof of your mouth, tasting the mint of your mouthwash when your mom pushes a bagel into your hand. Most of the kitchen is still in boxes, just a few appliances on the unnaturally bare counters. “Hey, Aunt Karen just called and said Nancy will be here any minute.” She offers, and a part of you feels for the bags under her eyes.
“Thanks.” You say, garbled with a piece of bagel in your mouth.
“Oh, and Mike is being a little testy, so he probably won’t move from the front seat for you.” She laughs, shaking her head.
You shrug, not caring. “I’ve been in the backseat for this long.”
Two honks out the front announce their arrival, and you ignore the anxious reminders she hurriedly spits out as you grab your backpack by the front door, already filled with school supplies from Texas. You shout an I love you to her as the Wheelers’ Station Wagon comes into your sight from the swung open door, finally out of her worried clutches that you’ve been in from the last week straight.
True to Aunt Karen’s word, Mike gave a defiant look when Nancy demanded he get out the front seat. Again, you didn’t care. “Sorry Mike has a ruler up his ass.” Nancy apologizes, her smirk reaching your own in the rearview.
You roll your eyes, a signal that it really doesn’t matter to you.
Hawkins, miniscule in comparison to that of your old home, Houston, passes by in the windows and you huff a sigh out at how much smaller your world has gotten. Your town, your school…you wish you could go back and give a reality check to the girl who patronized Nancy for it on the phone.
As promised, Nancy shows you to the front office and your first few classes. Being the new girl in the middle of a semester is absolute bullshit, but at least it wasn’t Forks, Washington levels of bullshit. That level of attention would’ve had you crawling under a bridge. Thank God only one teacher asked you to introduce yourself to the class. The rest of them couldn’t even be bothered.
Nancy sits alone at lunch, a notepad in her hand next to a near empty lunch tray. One thing you notice is that this school is much more categorized than yours was. It felt straight out of a high school dramedy, one you would criticize for being cliché.
Oh. Maybe it does some have truth to it.
“Hey loner.” You greet her, your butt hitting the hard plastic chair.
“I’m not a loner.” She huffs, hand moving absentmindedly as she writes. “My news team is getting this week’s paper done, we usually get it done during lunch.”
You roll your eyes, having noted the empty space on her tray. “You work too hard.”
“Nope. If you fail to plan, you plan to fail.” She answers, her signature side smirk on her face. Sometimes, only sometimes, Nancy doesn’t really have a serious bone in her body.
You gesture to the cafeteria, opening your fruit cup. “So, tell me about your very categorized cafeteria.”
She laughs, pausing in the middle of the sentence she’s writing. “So. There’s the jocks/cheerleaders, the nerds, the band nerds, drama nerds, science nerds—"
“Those are different from the regular nerds?” You ask, eyebrow quirked.
“Yes.” She deadpans. “Those are the kids without a clique,” she points, a bunch of kids not interacting, shyly nibbling at their lunches. “And finally, where my brother sits. Hellfire.”
It felt dramatic, but the table definitely earned their last but not least position. They stand out from the crowd, not seeming to care about fitting in like everyone else so desperately does. From the looks of it, individually, none of them would fit in the crowd. As a group, they stick out like a sore thumb. They don’t even care.
Nancy seems to be speaking, but she fades into the background. While you tricked yourself into believing you were observing the table, it occurs to you your eyes are fixated on the head of it, your heart beating out of your chest as you stare at him.
Him.
“Who’s he?” You interrupt Nancy, watching as his long frizzy hair curtain over his face. You didn’t even know someone in real life could be this good looking, you were sure it was reserved for celebrities in magazines.
Nancy switches her glance back and forth between your slack jaw and wide eyes and him. “That’s Eddie Munson.” She answers, her voice calculated. “The dork that I complained about Mike copying, remember?”
Your tongue reaches out to lick your lips, staring at him distractedly. A hot feeling in the swell of your gut overwhelms your senses. “You described a wet-rat loser.”
Nancy huffs in abrupt laughter. “That’s cause he is!”
“Him?” You ask, this hot feeling starting to radiate. You notice it’s especially hot in your crotch, a sort of…want you’ve never felt before. You’ve never craved for anyone this badly.
Nancy laughs in disbelief, surprised to say the least that her sweet cousin is openly drooling over Eddie The Freak Munson of all people. “I can put in a good word, if you want.” She teases, smirking at the way your eyes widen in panic.
“No, no, please don’t.” You insist, your eyes finally flickering back to her.
“Fine, you can drool from afar.” She muses. “Oh, lunch’ll be over in a handful of minutes. What’s your next class?”
“History.” You answer, viewing your crumpled schedule. God, not another boring lecture.
Nancy bites her lip, something she’s clearly not willing to share with the class. You don’t ask, still trying to catch your breath.
She walks you across the school to the classroom littered with historical figures and maps. She salutes you, telling you she’ll see you in AP Calculus right after this one. The look on her face never leaves it, she’s always got a secret right under the surface, but this one seemed more entertaining than the rest.
When you enter the classroom, the teacher tells you there’s assigned seats in this one and lucky for you, there’s one seat left. She directs you to the far-left corner, signalling to the one on the right. You shyly ignore the looks on your new classmates faces, all of them observing the face of the new kid who started so late in the year.
New faces are always hard to ignore, it’s just human nature to stare. Still, your stage fright is present in the forefront of your mind.
Your teacher starts the lecture by introducing you as a new kid, offering a wave to everyone that turns their head to look at you. Why can’t teachers just learn to be normal?
Your head is turned down, leaning on your elbow as she starts to explain a concept you’ve already learned last year. Are they sure they put you in a grade 12 class? At least this will be easier than most. Suddenly the heavy door opens, and your heart stutters as the man who’s taken over your every thought stumbles into the room ten minutes late.
“Mr. Munson! How nice of you to join us!” She greets, her scowl indicating that it’s anything but.
“You are so welcome, Miss. Greyson.” Eddie answers, his voice dripping in a tenor tone that sends a shiver down your spine. Not a lick of sarcasm comes from him, answering as if she was genuine.
She sighs, closing her eyes in exasperation. “Just go have a seat.”
Something in you suddenly realizes that the only available seat is right next to yours. A thrill takes over you, biting your lip excitedly as he struts as if he has all the time in the world.
After a brief stint on the projector, Miss. Greyson instructs the class to open their textbooks and answer questions on the following pages. “You may work in pairs.” She answers the many raised hands, and the room is filled by the harsh sound of desks groaning against the floor.
You get up from your desk, leaning into the teacher as she gathers the laminated sheets she had just used for the lesson. “I don’t have a textbook, yet.”
“Oh, I’m so sorry.” She replies, dropping her pile to shuffle off to her desk. “I completely forgot, in all the excitement.” She hands you the textbook that looks about fifteen years old, the spine cracked to oblivion. She leans in as you grab it, an apologetic look on her face. “I’m sorry about the placement of your desk, just ignore him. There was no one I hated in this classroom enough to place next to him.”
You resist the urge to raise an eyebrow, perplexed at her open disdain for him. It reminded you of the tone of voice Nancy had over the phone, wondering if the whole school was really this open about it. “I’ll live.” You answer, and she winks like you two share a secret.
Your textbook lands harshly on the desk, opening it to the page indicated in white chalk written on the blackboard. God, the reading is four pages, and the questions are a paragraph each. This much reading on the downfall of Mycenae? A jarring noise to your left surprises you, looking up to face his desk come closer and closer.
He leans over, a smile on his face that sends a thrill right through you. “So, how come I’ve never seen you around?”
He talks low, you spend the time hoping he doesn’t notice the goosebumps that trails over your skin. “Uh, I just started today.” You beg yourself to seem normal, to look him in the eyes like a decent conversationalist. You can’t bring yourself to, no matter how hard you try. Somehow you know when you finally look in those eyes of his, you’ll be too mesmerized to look away.
The printed words on the page make no sense, just a blur of boring text in black and white.
He leans back in his chair; you can feel his eyes planted on you. “Ah, makes sense. I would’ve remembered seeing your pretty face around.”
Oh my god he just called me pretty. Surely, he’s lying? Being in his line of sight and being considered good looking enough to him for him to even glance at was never in your wildest imagination, picturing him glazing right over you. Just a bug on the windshield. You gulp, pretending to be infatuated with the page in front of you instead of the man next to you.
“You shy?” He asks. In the corner of your eye, you see him leaning onto his elbow, his eyes staring a hole in your head.
Finally, you tear your glance off the textbook and onto him. God were you right about his eyes. How can a pair of brown eyes be so captivating? They’re a perfect chocolate brown, his mouth in a lopsided expression that sucks the air out of your lungs. “A little.” You admit, distracted by the sound of his fingers tapping rhythmically on the desk.
His limber fingers are dressed in chunky silver rings, the sight of his hands moving distractedly suddenly sends the heat you felt in your stomach earlier into a frenzy, the pull strong and overwhelming. “I can work with that.” A shy smile lands on your face, clenching your teeth as a method of resisting the urge to smile ear to ear. “Can I get a name?”
You tell him and hearing it from his lips is a vice and a half. “And you’re Eddie.” You say before he can introduce himself.
“So, my reputation precedes me.” He laughs, crossing his arms. “Or am I exactly like they said?”
You shrug. “Not exactly.”
His shoulders indicate a silent huff of laughter. “Care to expand on that?”
You shrug again. “You’re just…different.”
The look on his face indicates this answer isn’t good enough, but he doesn’t care to ask you to expand any further. As you work on your homework, finally settling your heartbeat and breathing rate, he writes in a notebook littered with graffiti. His left foot rests on the edge of his desk, the book resting on his thigh as he writes with the dull pencil.
He’s not doing any homework, but he’s at least letting you work on yours. The bell finally rings, dismissing you from your class and the room fills with chatter as everyone packs their bags. “You know where your next class is?”
You shake your head; having told Nancy you could work it out on your own. “Uh, no. It’s AP Calculus with Mr. Warner.”
“Mr. Warner.” He muses, his notebook in one hand and carrying a small metal tin. “Here, I’ll walk you.”
You pause, gulping as your bag rests on one shoulder. “You don’t have to do that.” You insist, suddenly realizing he’s about a whole head taller than you.
He smiles, his gaze making you feel…hot. “I didn’t ask, sweetheart.”
The way you gulp, your wide eyes darting back and forth between his, your teeth biting on your bottom lip nervously, Eddie was startled at the physical reaction and it was all going straight to his dick. The urge to shove his thumb between your pretty, plump lips is overwhelming, to say the least.
“Oh.” You answer, fingernails digging into the strap of your backpack. “Then lead the way.”
Eddie shakes his head, starting down the hallway to the other end of the school. As soon as he reaches the classroom, he turns around, leaning against the locker on his arm, neck hunching over you. Oh god, he’s gorgeous. “Will you let me take you out on a date, tonight?”
Every bone in your body wants to say yes, fingers just itching to reach out and touch his lithe hips. “My mom won’t let me go out on a Monday.”
So, that was not a No. “I would’ve asked for Friday, but I can’t wait that long.”
His admission drives you crazy, that heat ever present. Things like this just don’t happen. “Neither can I.” You admit, feeling scared of the rush that overwhelms you, yet scared of the idea of it never happening. You think quickly, biting your lip. “Think you can pick me up from my cousin’s house?”
He squints, crossing his arms as he leans against the locker. “Who’s your cousin?"
“Nancy Wheeler.”
His eyes bug out of the sockets, sighing in disbelief. “You’re cousins with Wheeler?” You nod, wondering if there’s any unspoken animosity between them. “I’ve dropped her kid brother off a few times, I know where she lives. You gonna tell your mom where you’re heading out for the night?”
You shake your head, sure he knows the answer, already.
Eddie huffs, hoping the crotch of his pants won’t give him away. “You ever snuck out before?”
“No.” You answer, looking up as the bell rings. “But I’m sure I can manage.”
You can’t place the expression on his face, somewhere between bewildered and amused.
For the record, it’s pure lust, having just met you and he’s already accidentally convincing you to sneak out for him. He wants you to, wondering if one day you’ll go so far to skip class to have fun with him under the bleachers.
His eyes leer down your body, watching as your skirt dances across your bare thighs while your feet can’t stay in place. He plays with his fingers absentmindedly, just barely resisting the urge to move them past the barrier and watch your face melt in pleasure.
“What time?” Eddie asks, eyes flickering up to your sweet face.
You think about it, knowing you’ll need time to grab at least a dress and get ready at the Wheelers’. “7:30.”
Eddie laughs, turning away from you and back down the hall to where you presumed his class was. “Pick you up at 7.”
“I-I said 7:30!”
“I’ll honk twice!” He answers, hand in his pocket like he didn’t just glue you into place.
The echo of his voice suddenly reminds you the halls are empty, only a few feet away from Mr. Warners classroom. You know more than anyone that AP Calculus students just aren’t late. Maybe he’ll give you grace on your first day.
You ignore the way every set of eyes switch to you, looking around the room for an empty seat. Luckily, Nance has saved one right next to you. “Hi, sorry. Couldn’t find it.”
“That’s alright, take this and have a seat right next to Miss.Wheeler, there.” He offers, gesturing to your cousin.
When the lecture ends and he assigns homework, she gets right to the point. “So, how was History?”
You sigh, rolling your eyes in exasperation. “You knew he’d be there.” You accuse, her grin affirming your assumption completely. “A warning would’ve been nice.”
“Not like you had to speak to him.” Nancy sighs, opening her textbook to the page indicated.
You stare at her pointedly, opening your book to a random page. “I sat next to him.”
Nancy instinctively knows something is up, seeing something was on your mind. “There’s something you’re not telling me.”
“You’ve barely given me a chance.” You comment sarcastically, looking over at her expectant face. “He…he asked me out.”
To say Nancy is surprised at this development would be simply, an understatement. “I’m sorry?”
You grin, finally letting that smile you’ve been hiding take over. “He’s picking me up at 7.”
“Like your mom will let you go out on a weekday.” She squints, knowing your mom’s tendencies to make you prioritize school over anything else.
“…which is why I need you to cover for me.” You hesitate, grinning shyly when she gives you a look of utter disbelief.
“Seriously?” You nod, pleading with her silently. “Fine. But you owe me big.”
You promise to make it up to her.
When the bell rings signifying the end of the day, your heart beats rapidly as the time for your date comes closer and closer. Nancy said she wouldn’t be able to help with your conundrum of the fact that you’ll need a dress and a way to get from your house to Nancy’s.
As you sit next to her while she writes a rough copy of an article wondering who you could possibly get to drive you. You might be shit out of luck. Like an angel, a freckled redhead appears out of nowhere. “Nance, is that the cousin?” She asks, sitting right across from you.
From the look on Nancy’s face, you’re unsure how close they actually are. “Yep.”
“Cool! I’m Robin, over-sharer, anxiety ridden, fast talker. Nice to meet ya.”
You take her extended hands, sort of hypnotized by her warm green eyes. “You too.”
“Hey, Steve busy?” Nancy asks, a million thoughts behind her head.
“Probably not.” Robin offers, getting up from the table. “Why?”
“Oh, she needs a ride.”
Robin eyes you, a smirk landing on her face. “I can convince him.” She side eyes, gesturing for you to follow.
You follow her around the school to the front where you face a handsome lanky dude sitting impatiently as he waits for his friend. When he turns the window down to ask who you are, you realize he’s not just handsome, he’s hot. God, you’ll have to reprimand Nancy for leaving that detail out. “What’s with the guest?”
“She’s Nance’s cousin. She needs a ride, would you mind?”
“What am I, a chauffeur?” Steve asks, face shifting into a deep scowl.
You stop Robin from responding, having an immediate comeback. “I had to listen to my cousin bitch about you for hours. Hours. I think I deserve a little compensation for my time, don’t you?”
Steve smirks, looking from under the hair falling into his face. “Whatever, get in.”
“Where you need a ride to?” He asks as you get into his backseat.
“My house.” You pause, hesitating to say the second location. “Then Nancy’s house.”
Steve squints suspiciously at you in his rear view. “Why two locations?”
“So my date can pick me up tonight.” You admit, glancing out the window shyly.
Robin turns in her seat, jaw dropping open. “Isn’t this your first day?”
You shrug, biting back a smile. “So?”
“Oh shit.” She glances to Steve and back to you. “Who? Do we know him?”
“Um, probably.”
“We know him.” Robin states.
“Turn here, third house on the left…” you tell him, getting out of his car as soon as it stops.
When you get inside your house, you explain to your mom you are way further behind on school than you thought you were and will need some time to get caught up. She asks how late you’ll be, and when you say midnight, she doesn’t even hesitate to let you go.
Thank god you don’t lie, because this should not be this easy. Your hands ruffle through the box of dresses by your bed, grabbing at a few you know look good on you. They’re stuffed into your backpack, cursing yourself for not unpacking your makeup earlier. Hopefully Nancy will be nice enough to lend you some. (You doubt it.)
You rush a love you out to your mom and back into Steve’s back seat, out of breath from running up and down the stairs so damn fast. God, the things you were doing for your goddamn date.
Nancy only lives down a few blocks from you, thus the easy carpool your moms figured out until you get your car. God, in Houston you could’ve just taken a METRORail, you didn’t need a damn car. You thank Steve profusely, thankful for his saving grace.
You would rather tell every member of Hawkins Senior class personally a fun fact about you than go out with Eddie in the same thing you wore to school. You’re shy, not pathetic.
“You don’t owe him anything if you tell us who asked you out.” She calls out of her open window, face full amusement. “C’mon!”
You wait as they pull forward, Steve shaking his head at his best friend’s shenanigans. “It’s Eddie Munson!” You shout, laughing as she shouts a what in utter disbelief.
You wave as they take off, thinking you and her could actually be great friends. She has the kind of spunk you look for in a friend, the same spunk you’ve witnessed in your cousin. A large part of you wonders why they’re not friends.
When your Aunt Karen wonders why she wasn’t alerted, you give the disclaimer you’re just there to catch up on the schoolwork. Your Uncle Ted insinuates Houston must be so far behind Hawkins, and you grit a smile in response, an indent on the tip of your tongue from your teeth. Most of your lessons from the school day you had learned last year, already earning top marks on those questions. The only class that was remotely hard was calculus.
It was borderline hilarious.
You run up the stairs, stomach in knots.                                                                         
Nancy is nice enough to let you use her makeup, grinning up at you with amusement as you ruffle through the dresses you so hurriedly packed. She gives a definite yes to a dress you knew stands out but worry at the way it just brushes against your thigh, and the neckline dives deeper than what you’re used to.
When it cascades down your body, the look in her stark green eyes tells you everything you need to know. This was the dress. Nancy is kind enough to do your hair, talking quietly with you as she curls your hair.
The half hour leading up to 7 has you lying on her bed, freaking out. She does the homework you’re supposed to be doing, answering your questions vaguely. She tries to make you feel better, grinning cheekily as she never imagined her sweet cousin going on date with Hawkin’s resident metal head.
When two honks occur down the street, you sit up starkly at the sound, biting your lip as you glance to her. “Go. I’ll distract my parents.”
She does, asking them for faux advice in the living room as you sneak past them to the front door, closing it with the most care you could muster. When you don’t hear any commotions, that gives you the go ahead to run down the street to the large van that sticks out, headlights on as it sits idly.
You peer up at him through the passenger window, waving as he unlocks it for you. The lopsided smile on his face starts that heat up again, like he turns on burners all over your body at will. The door shuts behind you, and you smile up at him shyly when he turns down the music.
“You look…wow.” He compliments you, watching the way your eyes look up at him, that beautiful shine.
You assess his outfit, a leather jacket worn with a graphic t-shirt and jeans with rips at the knee. He looked casual, but damn fine regardless. Him losing his metal accessories and devil-may-care look probably would’ve disappointed you, anyway. “So do you.” You offer back, taking in the way he looks as he starts his van and pulls out.
“Thanks.” He winks, turning at a traffic intersection. “So, there are several places we can go, the movies, Hal’s Diner, Benny’s Burgers, bowling alley, the Drive In, up to you, sweetheart.” He insists, driving his van around the small town.
The only thing you want at the current moment is to be in close quarters with him, with the need to kiss him crazy, a need you’ve experienced far too much this quickly. There’s only one thing that allows that. “Drive in.” You decide, the prospect of those same close quarters sending a thrill down your spine.
Eddie signals left, the drive-in location the opposite way from where he’s been driving. “Sounds good, love.”
Eddie doesn’t ignore the way you subtly avoid eye contact from him, shyly looking at your near bare thighs. By the way, were you trying to get a rise out of him with this wonderfully slinky dress you’re wearing? The moment you crawled into his van he was overthrown by your sweet perfume and the way your dress smooths over your gorgeous curves. It’s too hard, impossibly hard, to resist leaning in for your sweet scent, to nuzzle his nose in your neck. The idea that you don’t want to leave the intimacy of the van any more than he does is enough to bring the urge to readjust the crotch of his jeans.
By the time he pulls up into the far corner of the lot, turning on his radio so it connects with the movie mid-beginning credit scene, you take in the sparce parking lot, only a few vehicles spread apart sporadically. Well, you wanted intimate. You wanted close, now you've got it. His freshly showered self with the mix of his cologne just adding fuel to the ever-increasing fire.
This fire suddenly sends the need to squeeze your legs together, not completely understanding the feeling, but there’s an inkling. An instinct that on some level you know what it is, but no one ever warned you it could be this intense.
The first act of the movie is shared by you and Eddie laughing at the same jokes together, grabbing candy from his hands when he offers it. You sip on a straw in a glass coke bottle, if only to calm the nerves combined with heat that has completely overshadowed any sense you seem to have. Eddie leans back comfortably in his fabric covered seat, a hand landing on your bare thigh.
Oh, that turned up the heat several notches. It starts to become clearer that this heat is what can now be more clearly defined as a want. A want for…more of his hands, further up, him, close to you. Closer.
As your thighs tense and clench under his touch, Eddie can’t hold back any more like he planned. His other hand is tucked under your chin, lifting your big eyes to look up at his. His thumb brushes against your bottom lip, your mouth parting as you look up at him with stars in your eyes. “Can I?”
Your eyebrows furrow, breath stuttering as you peer up at him. You nod your head, glancing at his shiny pink lips. Every inch of air is tugged from your lungs as he leans forward, lips open as he places them on yours.
Eddie had every intention of kissing you delicately, the way he knows you deserve to be kissed, gently and patiently. As soon as the whimper leaves your throat and vibrates into his mouth, he forgets his good intentions. The kiss turns dirty, fast, the pressure of his spread hand increasing in the best fucking way, making your body fold involuntarily towards him.
Just when you’re enjoying the feeling of his tongue against yours, mewling pathetically against his lips, Eddie starts to kiss down your throat. You sigh, leaning back as that heat finally gains a resolve. Oh, god you're horny. Is that what that is? No wonder teenage boys are such perverts.
The combination of teeth and tongue is everything you needed and more; every muscle feeling like jelly as his lips and hands work like magic over you. Eddie licks a strip up to your ear, a startled and blissful moan filling up the car. He skips right past the pleasantries, past any inclination that you were anything other than wild for eachother. “You ever touch yourself, sweetheart?”
Only God knows why, but the dirty sentence just makes you hungrier for him, more eager. However, the answer to that jarring question is an honest and stuttered, “No.”
 Eddie separates from you, giving you a look, you can’t quite place. “Wait, really?” You confirm it, breathing heavily, gasping as his eyes visibly darken. “So, you’ve never cum before?”
The sentence makes your eyes widen, gulping at that gorgeous face of his. You think you know what he means, but you still need clarification.
“Orgasm, princess. Have you ever had an orgasm?” He asks, a hand placed on your cheek as he watches your reaction.
Oh. That’s what you thought. That’s an absolute and definitive, “No.”
His fingers increase their pressure, a reflex of from his reaction. God, you’re more innocent than he even knew. The idea of even teaching you what it means to get off sends a swoop through his gut, picturing you looking at him with those wide eyes as he corrupts you.
God, does he want to corrupt you. He wants to corrupt every inch of you, turn you into someone who begs him to skip class so you can guzzle on his cock. The way you stare up at him waiting for a response, eyes glazed over as you wait for him to continue kissing you, as if you don’t even remember you’re at a drive in to begin with.
His cock has never hurt so much from the blood pulsing through it, probably an angry red at this point.
“Can I give you one?” He asks, thumb starting to rub on your bottom lip again.
“An-an orgasm?” You stutter, voice squeaking through the question. He’s gorgeous, the way he stares down at you, those same chocolate brown eyes making that heat pool. Despite the fear, the arousal is greater. “Uh, sure.”
He smirks, watching your eyes dart back and forth nervously. “You’re sure?”
“Yes.” You confirm, pulling him for the kiss you so desperately crave. You weren’t sure how it happens, your hands having a damn mind of their own. Despite him pulling away, he slips back into the kiss easily, the hand on your thigh and hand on your face making you feel dizzy.
You’ve had kisses before, but you knew you were missing something in them. At last, you’ve found it, desperately clinging onto his kiss. God, he’s good at making you turn into mush, relaxing into his seats almost completely.
His hand inches up your thigh, waiting for you to protest. Your breath hitches as he gets closer and closer. “I'm gonna make you feel so good.” He promises, his hot breath turning you into a liquid. Finally, his hand lands on the cotton of your underwear, his strokes tugging mewls into his open mouth. “Shit, you’re soaked, baby. You even know how much you want me? Probably confusing, hmm?”
He puts pressure at the top, rubbing small circles and it feels like fire is set to your center, gasping as your concentration falls apart. His fingers feel good, in a way you didn’t think was possible. Words in your mind echo the thought of how damn good he feels, mouth attempting to tell him, but nothing comes out but wanton gasps.
Eddie watches you wither in his chair, legs opening for him. Sure, giving you an orgasm is a fierce turn on, but knowing you’ve never experienced any type of pleasure or want is sent straight to his cock. He remembers learning how good it felt to start rubbing his cock when it got hard, how often he started doing it when he realized it led to something.
All he wants to do is turn you into a pervert, one orgasm at a time.
That same warmth that’s made home in your gut starts to build, your thighs tensing up when it occurs to you what its building to. “Fuck.” You gasp, Eddie humming at the swear that leaves your lips. “Close, and I haven’t even really touched you, hmm?” He muses, lips starting to add a second sensation on your neck with his hot and wet tongue.
He pushes your underwear aside, fingers finally making direct contact with the wet slick of your folds. “Eddie.” You gasp. The skin on skin makes your head spin, clutching onto his leather jacket with desire. The pleasure jumps up thirty notches, that build reaching an all-time high. Nothing has ever felt better, never so fantastic. Again, now you understand why teenagers are such perverts.
“Let me see you cum, I can feel it coming, baby.” He whispers, licking his lips.
He slides a finger deep in you, the sudden intrusion alien but welcome. On the edge, you become even more completely desperate for him. How was his finger even better? How was that possible? The feat thrills you, happily and willingly giving into everything he gives you. “Damn. Baby. You look so fucking good, think you can cum for me?”
His fingers hook within you, and it pushes you over the edge you’ve been staring down, stars invading your vision, the heat you’ve felt everywhere, all at once. Your tight entrance pulses around his fingers, twitching, not aware of the loud, whiny moans that Eddie’s sure the concession stand less than twenty feet away can hear, but he’s proud of it, grinning maniacally at his hard work.
He guides you through it, thrusting his fingers as he watches you come apart under his touch. When you stop shaking, his hand rubs your pussy gently, admiring the slick that is now pooled down your thighs and even onto his chair. He smirks, catching your eye when they finally open to face him. “How’re you doing, love?”
You forget to be shy in your smile, grinning maniacally as you grab him, yanking him in for a hot, wet kiss. It’s even dirtier than before, attempting to show him how grateful you feel for his magical fingers. “That was…so…good.” You mumble, smiling wider when you can feel him do the same.
“Feels good, hmm?” He asks, his fingers still stroking you gently.
“Jesus.” You answer, thighs convulsing involuntarily.
Eddie chuckles, amused that it takes you cumming to cum out of your shell. “You’re pretty like this, you know?” You roll your eyes, and he can feel the dismissal of his compliment. “Can I eat you out, baby?” It shouldn’t be this embarrassing, but it is. You barely know any of this terminology, and he can feel you tense up below him, your once liquid limbs turning to steel. “You have no idea what that means, do you, baby?”
You shake your head, gulping in the embarrassment.
“That’s ok. Of course, I don’t mind helping you.” Eddie doesn’t mind. When he says that he’s under exaggerating, not showing an ounce of his true feelings. How much does it take for you to squirm under his dirty words? How much patience does he have before he begs you to let him shove his hardened cock down your throat. How long will it be until you’re riding him like a porn star? If he was even slightly sleezier, he’d bet on it with someone. “I’d make that pretty pussy feel even better with my tongue.”
Oh. That sounds miles better than anything your brain could’ve come up with. You bite your lip, staring up at him with pure want. “You’d do that?”
“If you’re willing to come into the back with me.” He muses, nodding his head to his elongated trunk. You turn your head, facing a fleece blanket placed on the floor of the van with a few pillows. Did he do this for you, or is it always this nice?
Eddie doesn’t think you can get any cuter, but when you nod excitedly, starting to crawl into the back before he can say anything, he’s proven dead wrong. He’s never been so happy to be wrong. As you crawl, he watches your ass, your underwear still pulled to the side as the shine on your folds is still visible in the light of the movie.
He smiles, crawling as soon as you land awkwardly on the floor of the van. You sit cross legged waiting for him, one spaghetti strap fallen off your shoulder as you bite your lip anxiously. It doesn’t help Eddie that the strap on your shoulder starts to reveal a breast, just peeking at the top of the nipple. He’s barely seen you, just at the tip of the iceberg of touching you, and he’s about to pop from the anticipation.
How are you doing this to him so easily?
Eddie leans in for a kiss, something as soft as he wanted to give you the moment he saw you sitting in the desk next to his, but his hormones got the worst of him. He kisses each bare shoulder, admiring the way you relax into it.  His long fingers reach to the already fallen strap, fingers brushing as he tugs it down further, fully exposing the partially exposed tit. Your heart races, loud, too loud, in your temple and you wonder if he can hear it.
Eddie can’t, as heartbeats are usually inaudible to the naked ear. He can hear, however, the way those sweet breaths get louder, faster, and even more utterly pathetic for him. Eddie feels a goal take over his mind like a parasite, one he welcomes with a bed made. He plans to make you moan and whine louder so that everyone within ten miles can hear how good you feel, what a good whore you are—he’s getting ahead of himself.
Right now, he focuses on making you feel comfortable, helping you become at ease so you will never be self-conscious with him, never afraid of being too loud, or too eager. He can’t imagine ever thinking otherwise with you. He thought he knew the definition of impossible, but now he knows he had no clue.
Every sensible, distinguishable thought has left your brain, too focused on how good his tongue and teeth feel as he expertly works on your beaded nipple. His brain is going a million miles per hour, yours left behind in the middle of a desert. His hand guides the other strap down your shoulder, fully exposing your chest, the soft material falling so it sits wrapped around your hips.
Teeth scrape against the curve of your breast, as if his tongue is attempting to taste every inch, every centimetre of it. One hand smoothing the skin just below them. Wet kisses trail down your torso, tongue dipping into your navel, the sweet swell of your stomach, his dull nails digging into your soft flesh, the pain adding to the beauty of the mixed sensations.
Your pussy is raging in fire, shouting for the same attention he had been so generous at providing. He feels your thighs tensing, attempting to provide friction for yourself where you need it the most. “Does it hurt, baby?” He asks, mouth now at the base of your neck. “Does that sweet pussy hurt for it?” You nod, rubbing your thighs like a damn cricket. “Oh, I know, I’ll make it all feel better, don’t you worry.”
He admires your face, the way your eyes are closed with the muscles beautifully crumpled up.
“Lie down for me, and I’ll eat that fucking pretty pussy.” Without hesitation, you lay down, shifting your body so you can lie comfortably on the floor of the van.
When you do, his hands tug at the fabric around your waist, not pulling it off you, just clutching it like a vice. They slink under it, fingers tight on the waistband on your panties as he pulls them down your legs. As they leave your feet, pulling them around your heels, Eddie stares at the drenched middle, fingers playing with the thick slick that had gathered. Eddie seems to have a talent for stealing the air from your lungs, doing so as you watch him taste them. “Taste so fucking good, sweets.” He makes a show of placing them into his back pocket, shooting a wink when you give him a questioning look.
He adjusts himself onto his forearms, both hands landing on the top of your thighs as his head dives in between them. Your thigh muscles tense in his hold, begging him for mercy, any kind. “Eddie…please…I need…I need—”
He chuckles, bending over your wanton body. “I love how you say my name, but I’m gonna make you scream it.” He mutters, the scent of your arousal making his vision fizzle.
Finally, finally, his tongue touches you, relishing in the immediate whine that leaves your lips. He hums against you, enjoying the way your legs move restlessly. The first touches are so delicate, your heels digging in his (still) clothed back and grinding your hips to force more contact. “That’s a girl, take what you want from me.” He praises you, hand stroking your thigh gently.
The simple instruction drives your hips to grind more, Eddie’s tongue licking up your slick folds harder in response. At this point, fire isn’t a hot enough word to describe the heat in your pussy. Eddie starts to focus on your clit, his ears suddenly muffled by your thighs abruptly closing on his head. He starts a rhythm, switching back and forth, listening to how your sweet whines answer him.
Any thoughts occurring in your head are long gone, all out of your mouth before your brain even knows you’re thinking it. You wonder how you didn’t think of this, ‘how the first thing you thought when you saw Eddie not how good he would look between your legs’?
Answer: the best thing you’ve ever seen in your life. (Spoiler, there will be better things.)
Eddie is more than happy to play with you, to listen how you react to every touch he provides. So far, his favourite sound is when his tongue enters your sopping hole, fucking it gloriously. It was the first truly uninhibited sound he managed to pull from you. Every decision he made for you was purposeful, doing his damn best to send you over the edge again. He wonders how willing he is to put off his own pleasure for the sake of yours.
Honestly, to hear you come apart repeatedly is 1000% worth it to him, even if he has to rut against the floor of the van.
“Cl-close, Eddie.” You tell him, that sudden ending sneaking up on you. “So, so, so, so, good!”
Eddie takes your admission with pride, and as the stars invade your vision, your every limb tensing as you cum, he keeps going.
In your post orgasm haze, the over sensitivity of your pussy is overwhelming. However, his continuing and relentless mouth feels so good you relish in it, absolutely sure your legs will be sore from the constant convulsing. You whimper through a hushed and delayed swear, your hands weaving through his curls and tugging on his scalp.
His thumb meets your clit, rubbing feverishly and driving another orgasm out of you faster than you ever expected. His name is music to his ears as you shout it when the orgasm takes over you. “Fuck, Eddie, mouth feels…ah!”
His brown eyes open, nose nuzzling your clit as he stares at you through those darkened eyes. His tongue licks a long stripe, chin resting the mound of your pubic bone. “Think you can handle a few more?”
Your chest heaves, struggling to catch your breath as you lift your head up to face him.  Your head feels like a weight, too heavy on your neck. Your mouth opens to answer him, but the weight of your head wins, landing back on the van.
Eddie works your clit again, watching your breasts move up and down as you struggle to catch your breath. “Maybe not that many more, hmm? Maybe just one?” …if he’s strong enough to hold back from giving you two.
Stopping at this point would give you a break you need, but at the same time you can’t bear to, Eddie’s tongue acting as a siren’s song. You’re hypnotized by him. “More, please. Please keep going.”
“I love hearing your voice beg for me. Your whimpers are the best thing I’ve ever heard in my life, sweets.”
Eddie dives in again, your choked whimpers telling any near neighbors that you simply don’t remember they exist. They’re not important enough to care about anymore.
As much as you are sensitive to every single touch, even over-stimulated, you welcome the next three orgasms he gives you. At the end of your third, or sixth, orgasm, Eddie rests his chin on your mound again, staring up at you as you recollect yourself. He’s patient, watching the light making its way back into your eyes.
Eddie nearly asks you a question, when your hand reaches out to grab him by his leather collar. He lets out a yelp of surprise, his fully clothed form an odd juxtaposition against your completely naked one. Well, save for the dress still on your waist. Your lips meet, tongues gliding against each other beautifully, and you taste yourself in his mouth. Even with your brain as foggy as it is, your body feeling as weak as it does, the number one thing you can focus on is getting those clothes off him.
Your hands fidget on the harsh leather collar, forcing it off his back. “Take it off,” you tell him, Eddie grinning cheekily in response. As soon as his jacket is off, you feel the graphic shirt start to come off with it. The reveal of his patched treasure trail, his bare skin against yours a marvel of sensations. You become impatient, attempting to hurry the process of taking his shirt off.
A symphony of laughter leaves his lips as his shirt finally is tossed off to the side, watching your eyes marvel at his tattoo littered chest. Your tits pressed against him pulls a groan from his lips, a sound that drives your legs to tug his tented jeans down against your bare pussy. If you thought his tongue felt good, it’s nothing compared to his hips against yours.
His voice is strained, dripping in husk. “Sh-shit, doll. I-I need you. Need to feel that virgin pussy wrapped around my cock. Need it so bad, please.”
Eddie begging like this being such a turn on is a surprise, to say the least. And from the pleasure he gave you, you’re willing him to do whatever he wants to you.
Whatever. He wants.
“Really? You want me?” You ask, whining as he ruts again.
“Desperately.”
Your hand moves down to the button of his jeans, undoing it with shaky hands and even shakier breathing. “You gonna take my virginity, Eddie?”
Somehow you knew this would make him crazy. You enjoyed it, enjoyed the crazy, adored his moan in approval. “I’m gonna take you, baby.” He grunts, starting to move his jeans down his ass, legs, taking his briefs with them.
He’s quick about it, tongue against your skin as he grabs the dress around your waist and slowly drags it down your legs, tongue dragging down along with it. Slyly, he holds a condom from his pants pockets between two fingers. “You ready?”
You bite your lip, making the bottom lip swell from the constant fidgeting. “I’m on birth control…” you admit, only on it to regulate a heavy flow.
He makes a show of tossing the condom over his shoulder, grinning at his crazy eyes. “Well, shit, darling.” He leans in, feeling the size of him as it brushes against your hip. He’s big, right? “Before I enter that pussy, I need you to do me a favour.”
“Hmm?” You ask, the only thing in your mind is how good his bulge felt when it rutted up against your heat. If that felt that good? Sex with Eddie…your mind goes dizzy from the need.
Eddie takes your hand resting by your head, wrapping it around his hardened length. The moan that leaves his lips is deep and rough. Your unsure fingers allow him to assist you, getting a hold of the rhythm. When you do, he lets you take over, face falling in your neck when your grip tightens. “Okay, I can’t take it any longer.” He whispers, gentle, goosebumps erupting in their wake. “Here, help me, will you?”
You don’t ask, only because you don’t have the chance to, when his hips help you brush the head of his cock against your wet entrance. You tease the two of you simultaneously, brushing it numerous times, both of you gasping in harmony. “Oh, you little tease.”
His hand replaces yours, whining as the head finally, finally brushes into your entrance. “Eddie.” You whisper, clinging onto him desperately. “S-so, so, so full.”
“Yeah?” He asks, both winded by the feel of you and by the blissed look on your face. Maybe if he kisses the middle of your eyebrow enough, he can settle every wrinkle you demonstrate from the pain beautifully mixed with pleasure. “Look at you, so drunk on it, did you ever think a cock could make you feel this good? Ever think how much you could want to be fucked so desperately?”
You shake your head, drunk on his words, drunk on his cock. “More, please.”
“Think you can take it?”
You whine impatiently, legs attempting to pull him in harder. “Eddie.”
He smiles as you fall into his trap, pushing in more than he knows he should. He can’t help it, the smile that takes over your face is the perfect reward. “I thought you were shy?”
You roll your eyes, knowing when someone is this close to you, has seen this much of you, there is barely any time to be shy. “Shut up.”
He listens, kissing you deeply as his hips start to move. Your hand weaves itself into his hair, whimpering into his ear as he hits, deeper, harder.
You can’t fully understand the sounds coming out of his mouth, the once coherent, cocky sentences turn into mumbled groans, and it’s refreshing to know he seems to want you as you did him, craved for you the same way. A string of words on repeat come from your mouth, just his name.
The only thing you seem to be able to think of is Eddie, Eddie, Eddie, EddieEddieEddieEddie…
“God, your tight pussy, I’m gonna cum soon…” At least, that’s what you think he says. “Gonna fill you up…” You tighten around him, enjoying the prospect of it. “Gonna see it dripping out of you.”
He doesn’t know how it’s possible you tighten around him more.
“God, you take me so well, it’s like you were made for me, made for my cock.”
Head? Empty. Cunt? Full.
Him? Perfect.
“Fill me up, please.”
“Listen to those dirty little words, gonna turn you into a filthy whore.” He whispers, whining together with you in bliss as his hips rut a final, harsh, jagged time.
Time seems to be endless, as he whispers in your ear, hands on his broad back when he settles, keeping his cock warm. Time is so endless; you don’t even notice the movie turning off and the subtle turnover of engines and wheels driving off past the van.
It takes a poor teenage employee to knock on the van doors, politely asking if you could leave because the drive-in is closed, and they need to lock the gate.
To say the way you avoid their eyes after hurriedly putting your dress back on turns Eddie on would be an understatement.
To say when you waltz with him hand in hand down the hallways the next day turns into a sideshow, would be an even bigger understatement.
You sit on his lap during lunch, curious to the reaction of the other boys sitting with him. When Eddie slips his hand under your skirt and plays with your clothed cunt, he knows he’s just starting to corrupt you as you attempt to seem normal.
He’s just getting started.
-
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harryspet · 6 months
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bambi eyes (2) r. cameron
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[Warnings] soft!dark!rafe cameron x reader, daddy!rafe x little!reader older!rafe, crimeboss!rafe, rafe takes advantage of traumatized reader, DUBCON, dd/lg, sex trafficking, sexual slavery, sugar daddy rafe, stockholm syndrome, spoiling kink, unprotected sex, forced? age regression, little editing, 18+ READ AT YOUR OWN RISK
word count: 4.7k
In which you've been a good girl and your Daddy Rafe can't get enough of you.
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When you opened your eyes the following day, you could still feel Rafe all over you. All at the same time, you felt him inside of you, his mouth kissing your lips, and the bed dipping beside you when he pressed his weight into you. When you slowly realized he wasn’t in bed with you anymore, part of you felt you might have imagined last night. You’d never truly enjoyed being with men, and last night, you felt closeness for the first time. Perhaps it was the combination of all the gifts and the attention he had provided you yesterday. 
You still couldn’t quite rap the idea around your head that you were the first and maybe only girl he had done this with. How long was he planning on keeping you here?
The digital clock sitting on the nightstand read exactly 8:00, and you took it as a cue to get out of bed. As you made up the bed, your mind again wandered back to last night. You imagined he left as soon as you fell asleep, and you’d let yourself get so comfortable that you hadn’t even noticed. 
You stared at the doorknob for a short while. It would be locked, you knew that, but what if it wasn’t — it didn’t matter. 
Before he left, you noticed he left you an outfit hanging on the armoire. He’d picked out a matching set of light pink leggings and a matching top. He also picked out a pair of socks that had little, tiny bunnies on them and lacy, white underwear. You brought the clothes with you to the bathroom, your fingers caressing the soft fabric of the clothing. You didn’t recognize brand, sure that it was popular with American girls.
You went through your morning routine, one that Rafe had laid out yesterday, and you found yourself having fun. You brushed your teeth as you ran your bath. There were a million bath products, and you spent a few minutes opening and smelling all of them. You settled on something sweet and flowery, and soon the aroma was spreading throughout the entire bathroom. 
You settled in the water with the bubbles enveloping you. 
You almost settled into a moment of peacefulness until you heard your bedroom door unlock. Wearing a nice plaid shirt and khaki pants, Rafe entered your small sanctuary. You sat up in the water, worried that you’d been taking too long. His eyes were soft and unthreatening, and you let yourself rest again. He took a seat on the edge of the tub, looking down at you, “Enjoying yourself?”
You nodded, “It’s nice. Thank you, Daddy.”
“You’re welcome, princess,” He smiled, “You did good. Last night, I mean.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, I have some exciting plans for us,” He stated before he reached into his pocket, “Here, I need you to take this.”
He placed a small white pill in your hand. You watched as he made his way over to the sink, filling up a cup of water and bringing it to you.
“What is it for?” 
“It’s, uhm, so you don’t get pregnant,” Oh. You placed the pill on your tongue, washing it down with the liquid, “I got a little ahead of myself last night. That’s why I’m going to have a doctor check you out today.”
“I’m going to the hospital?”
“No. Dr. Watts makes house calls. And he’ll be here in thirty minutes. I’ll come back and get ya’, yeah?”
“Okay,” You agreed, slightly worried that Rafe thought you needed to be seen by a doctor. 
Rafe moved to leave but stopped in the doorway, “Don’t worry, there will be time for little Rafe’s and Bambi’s. Just not yet.” 
You nodded, conveying your understanding, but in reality, you didn’t understand how he could know he wanted that with you, even in the future. After he left the room, you realized your fingers were beginning to wrinkle. You reached down to drain the water from the tub, deciding your next pressing issue was how you’d do your hair. 
There was a vanity made into the sink countertop with a place underneath for a chair to fit. You pulled it out and made yourself comfortable, looking closely through all of the drawers. You find lots of hair accessories, makeup, and other beauty products. You picked some things out that wouldn’t require a full tutorial for you to use. You also chose two pink bows to tie to the ends of your braids, taking a guess that Rafe might like that you match your outfit. 
According to Rafe, Figure 8 had a lot of these places called country clubs, and you wondered what sort of things people wore to places like that. Surely, Rafe would make sure you wouldn’t feel out of place there. If you fully earned his trust, if you continued to be good, you could probably have a normal life here. People were happy here, especially the ones that called themselves Kooks. 
The leggings fit you well, grabbing onto your curves, and the cropped pink top also fit you snuggly. 
Outside the window, you could see boats riding by in the distance and large birds that stood by the water, wading and looking for fish. You could already tell his home was large, just from the view from your room, making you curious about the rest of the house. As if he was able to read your mind, Rafe appeared again, holding the door propped open, “Let me show you the rest of Tannyhill, Bambi.”
You straightened, trying not to seem too eager as you approached the door. As you grazed past you, he rested a hand on your hip, rubbing his palm against your bottom. You looked down a long hallway with lots of old paintings and elegant-looking fixtures. He took your hand, leading you down the hallway, “This is my room,” Rafe opened double doors, and you peeked inside to see a large dark wood canopy bed.
He didn’t show you every room; in fact, he seemed to ignore one specifically. Your eyes widened when he brought you out onto a huge patio that overlooked an even more ginormous green lawn. 
“All of this is–”
“Yeah,” He finished your sentence for you, “Anyone would be happy here, right?”
“Yes,” You agreed quickly, which seemed to please him. He grabbed your hand in response, holding it and caressing your thumb with his own larger one. Although you could tell the seasons were changing, the weather felt nice, and there was a constant breeze flowing and relieving you from the heat of the sun. 
He gave you time to take in the scenery but five minutes later, you both could see a car coming down the horseshoe-shaped driveway, “That’s Dr. Watts. You ready?”
“Yes, Daddy.”
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You didn’t have much of experience with doctors but you knew already you must not be a good patient. You struggled with almost every answer that Dr. Watts asked you and, at some point, he started directing all of his questions towards Rafe. 
When was your last period? What kinds of birth control have you used? Have you ever had something called a pap smear? Do you have any allergies? What’s your family’s medical history? 
“I gave her a Plan B this morning, just to be safe.”
You found yourself just trying to keep up with the conversation they were having. At some points, you found the view outside more interesting, “There are small procedures we can do. An IUD can be placed inside the uterus, an implant can be placed inside the arm, or there is the traditional birth control pill. Right now, I can give her a shot that will prevent pregnancy for the next 3 months.”
You were sat where Rafe had placed you, on a stool in the middle of the massive kitchen. 
Dr. Watts didn’t look like what you imagined a doctor would look like. He didn’t wear a white coat; in fact, he was dressed very casually in shorts and a button-up. He also brought all the things he needed in a briefcase. 
“That’s fine,” Rafe agreed, his arms crossed. 
“Alright, so after that shot, we’ll do a couple of vaccination shots. And then I’ll take some blood for testing.”
Dr. Watts had several syringes laid out on the kitchen island, picking up the first one after washing his hands and putting on some gloves. Rafe grabbed ahold of your hand again, his eyes commanding you to look at him, “This is just to make sure you’re healthy. It won’t feel good, but it’s not a punishment.”
“Okay,” You said, although your heart was pounding, and you already felt tears in your eyes. 
“I’m right here; squeeze my hand,” He said, pushing your hair back as he gazed over your face. On your other side, Dr. Watts lifted the sleeve of your shirt. The first shot was to your upper arm, and the pinch made you squeeze your eyes tight, but it was over relatively quickly, “You’re doing so good, sweet girl. What do you think about ice cream for breakfast?”
You opened your eyes, and the calmness in his eyes was a signal to you that everything was okay, “Lana has the day off, but I can make an ice cream sundae. We’ve got everything, whip cream, cherries, chocolate sprinkles. What do you think?”
Rafe made you talk through the next few shots and when the doctor had to draw your blood, and he wiped your tears when you were all done. 
“That wasn’t so bad. I’ll walk Dr. Watts out, and we’ll make some ice cream.”
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Rafe noticed you seemed almost disappointed when he led you back to your room after your ice cream feast. He liked showing you around your new home and the place he grew up, but he wasn’t quite ready to unhook your leash. You were safest in his home and even safer within these four walls. 
Rafe took a seat at the edge of the bed, his hand still intertwined with yours, “How does your arm feel, Bambi?” 
“A little sore,” You answered, although Rafe could tell by your eyes that it was worse than what you were portraying. He pulled you gently forward, encouraging you to straddle his lap. 
“Poor thing,” Rafe said, his voice becoming even more raspy as he felt your closeness, “But hey, you did so well. You know, I’m really happy with you.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, you’re a good little girl. I can tell that you appreciate everything that I’ve done.”
“I-I do,” You replied quickly, making Rafe smirk. 
“And you understand that I’m in control … I mean, it’s only fair. Who knows what would have happened if I left you with that man, with those people,” You nodded at his words, and negative thoughts of his father, Sarah, and his evil stepmother started to enter his thoughts, “I’m giving you the perfect life, the happy home that I never got. Whatever, I won’t get fucking mopey, but just know after all that I’ve been through, I know how to lead a family properly.”
He stopped his mind from wandering to darker places and grabbed ahold of your hips, “Thank you for … taking me away.”
“I had to,” Rafe leaned in to kiss your neck, “You’re mine now. Only mine.”
He loved that he could smell the perfume he picked out for you and feel you in the clothes he bought for you. He took so much care in creating this paradise for you. 
“Daddy’s going to make you feel better,” Rafe said in your ear, “I have to taste you. You want Daddy to taste your pretty pussy?”
“Y-Yes.”
“Tell me,” Rafe commanded, squeezing your ass with his large hands. 
“I want you to taste me, Daddy.”
“Good girl, don’t be nervous,” Rafe praised, wrapping an arm around your lower back before he swiftly turned you over, placing you gently against the bed, “I’ll be gentle, just how I was last night. Not going to fill you up, just want to taste you.”
You were quite helpless with your arm being so sore, Rafe could tell you were struggling to move it. He thought of tying you down, of course, when you felt better. He took his time with your leggings, still excited as ever to see more of you. He spread your legs, kissing your center through the fabric of your panties. Wrapping his arms underneath you, he pulled you into him, letting your thighs warm his face. He kissed you like this for a while, teasing you, making you squirm when he kissed your inner thigh. Not able to wait any longer, Rafe pulled your thin panties to the side, “There’s Daddy’s pretty little pussy,” He kissed your clit first, and the next sounds out of his mouth were guttural as he took you into his mouth. 
You tasted divine, sweet like he always called you. Rafe became relentless, waiting until you were close to your peak before he pulled away. Heavy breaths fanned over your sensitive area, and you whined because of the lack of friction, “You liked that, didn’t you, Bambi?”
“Yes, i-it feels good, Daddy,” You responded, slightly embarrassed by how quickly you got worked up. 
“Should I keep going? Does my little girl want to cum? Go ahead and ask Daddy. Tell me what you want.”
“Can you please make me cum, Daddy?” Rafe could tell in your tone of voice that maybe you weren’t sure what you asking. He hadn’t considered that you might not know what an orgasm felt like. 
“Yes, Bambi, of course. Talk through it; tell me what it feels like, sweet girl,” After those words, Rafe held you even tighter and dipped his head down again. He pressed his tongue into you, waiting to find that spot that seemed to make you cry out before he focused all the pressure there. 
“It feels …it feels–” You gasped, “It’s too much, it’s too much–” Rafe took your scattered words and cries of pleasure as a good sign to keep adding pressure. When you tried to pull away from him, Rafe knew you were having an orgasm, but he kept you there, “It’s too much, Daddy!”
Rafe pulled away, giving your clit a short break, but soon he was replacing his mouth with his fingers. Rafe shushed you, “It’s okay, I’ve got you,” He pushed two fingers in and out of you, curling them up to find the right spot. For Rafe, the best thing about being with a woman was being able to watch them have multiple orgasms in a row. This time, he’d only make you have two, but he’d soon find out what your limit was, “One more. Just give me one more.”
Rafe started sucking your clit as he moved his fingers, “Please, please,” You wouldn’t beg him to stop; you were too much of a good girl. He knew what you needed and wouldn’t let you run from it. 
He slowed his fingers as you rode out your orgasm. Rafe entangled himself from your legs, needing to see your face. You looked so cute trying to catch your breath and with your face scrunched up. Rafe brought his hands over his mouth, wiping away the wetness, “That’s my girl.”
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A few days passed in your new room. Sometimes it crossed your mind to ask Rafe when you’d be able to walk around the house or when you’d get to go outside, but you stopped yourself every time. You thought you should be more grateful towards him, he’d provided you with so many things, and he was much kinder than any man you’d ever met. He was handsome, too, with blue eyes that often made it hard for you to think when you looked into them. 
Every day was similar; there were no more visitors like Dr. Watts, and you completed your routine exactly like Rafe had instructed. Usually, you’d share all of your meals, and Rafe would leave in between for work. You got more comfortable in your own company. At first, playing with the toys felt silly, like the activities were meant for someone much younger. Slowly, it started to feel like satisfying a part of you that hadn’t existed in a long while. 
Today, you had several coloring books laid out on the ground in front of your bed, and you’d spent most of the day coloring. You liked having your dolls set up nearby so, of course, they could see your work, “What do you think, Molly?” You’d spend hours by yourself, and it started feeling natural to talk to them, “Red or blue for the spots … Blue? You’re right; blue would be perfect.”
Rafe returned to you before dinner but you noticed he hadn’t brought a tray of food like he usually did. Instead, he was carrying a large cardboard box, “I’ve got a surprise for you,” He set it down on the carpet nearby you, his face lit up with excitement. You set down your marker, crawling on your knees towards the box. Rafe kneeled down with you, grabbing the back of your neck to pull you into a soft kiss, “You’ve been so damn good your first week; something came for you in the mail.”
You looked at him, baffled, “I don’t know what it could be.”
“Open it,” He winked at you. 
Cautiously, you pulled open the flaps of the cardboard and then reached into the mountain of packing peanuts. You pulled out a long box, immediately recognizing a doll's face, but one that looked very similar to you. It was the right skin tone and had the same curls that you did, “Really? For me?” You placed the box on the ground, just admiring her face. 
“Yeah, why should you have to play with my sister’s old things?” Rafe opened up the box even further, and you could see she was dressed in a beautiful floral gown. It was a cream color with pretty blue flowers, puffy sleeves, and an even flouncier skirt. 
“She’s so pretty … and the dress is…,” You said, unable to take your eyes off of her, “You didn’t have to; I really do like the other dolls–”
“I wanted to,” Rafe insisted, “And that’s not it. There’s something else.”
When you reached back inside the box, you felt the top of a hanger. You pulled out a clear garment bag and inside was the exact replica of the dress your new doll was wearing, and it looked your size, “For you to wear to dinner,” Rafe explained after you stared speechless, “Which, for tonight, will be served in the dining room.”
“We’ll be matching,” You thought out loud, next picking up the doll from the packaging. 
“She’s welcome to dinner if you want to bring her. She’s completely yours. You can name her and everything,” Rafe said, gently grabbing ahold of your chin, “I want to see you in your new dress, though.”
“Yes, Daddy,” You agreed, standing with both the doll and dress in hand, “If I’m Bambi, maybe she can be …Bunny?”
“That’s a cute name, sweet girl,” Rafe agreed, clapping his hands together, “Run along, I want to be surprised.”
Excitetely, you padded over to the bathroom. When you put the dress on, you were surprised by how similar they were, down to the placement of the flowers, although yours fit much shorter than your dolls. When you stepped back into the room with Bunny in your hands, you smoothed down the back of your dress so it would fully cover your bottom. Rafe’s eyes seemed to light up at the sight, and you did a small spin for him. 
“Wow, don’t you two look precious.”
His eyes looked hungry, although you could tell he wasn’t thinking about tonight’s dinner. 
For the first time in several days, you left your room, one hand tucking Bunny close to your body and your other hand intertwined with Rafe’s. The lights around the house were dim and Rafe led you to down a long hallway to a candlelit room. Although the long dining room had twelve chairs, only two places were set. Rafe pulled back the chair right next to the head of the table, and you initially missed his cue for you to sit as your eyes looked all over the room until he tapped your bottom. Your cheeks heated up with embarrassment, but you still took your seat. 
In front of you was a delicious-smelling plate of steak with a red sauce, small potatoes, and carrots. There was also a beautiful flower arrangement on the table, one made of cream and light purple flowers, “You look fucking beautiful, princess,” Rafe whistled, taking his place at the head of the table, “Like a fucking painting or something.”
Rafe’s words made you smile, and his compliments often made you feel overwhelmed. You weren’t used to someone taking notice of your appearance outside of sex, and when he looked at you, he looked at you as a whole, “Thank you, Daddy,” The words were starting to feel natural on your tongue, “It looks very nice in here, and the food looks delicious.”
“You ever been on a date before?” Rafe asked, pouring something fizzy into your wine glass. You shook your head in response, “Usually, you share a meal or do an activity together; meanwhile, you’re getting to know the other person. You’re lucky you don’t have to go on a million bad dates before you’ve found the right person.”
“What makes a date bad?” You asked. 
You moved to pick up your knife but paused when Rafe grabbed ahold of it first. He took you for as well and began cutting your steak into smaller pieces, “For me, girls have always wanted … things from me. Superficial things. You think they’re listening to you when you’re pouring your heart out …but really just thinking about how they’re gonna get what they want from you.”
You frowned, squeezing Bunny closer to your stomach, “That sounds horrible.”
When Rafe handed you your fork, you assumed you could begin to eat. 
Rafe nodded his head, taking a swig of brown liquor from his glass, “I don’t have to worry about it anymore.”
“Will your sister ever come to visit?” If the purpose of a date was to get to know the other person, you thought you could get some curiosities you had off your mind. 
“I have two sisters. Wheezie, she’ll probably come visit at some point, uhm but my other sister probably won’t. She’s not really welcome, anyways,” Rafe answered, poking at food on his plate, “Wheezie, though, I’m sure she’ll like you.”
Your lips pulled into a small smile, “I’ve always wanted siblings. I had some friends in the other girls, but Mas-” You stopped yourself, “We weren’t really supposed to like each other.”
“Blood doesn’t really mean anything. You should be able to choose your family,” Rafe said, “What matters is who’s loyal to you, you know?
You agreed, although you weren’t sure you really knew what loyalty felt like. As you were finishing up dinner, a loud knocking interrupted one of Rafe’s stories. Rafe seemed more caught off guard than even you were, fumbling to pull out his phone and check something, “Shit,” he cursed, “C’mon, Daddy’s got to handle some business.”
Rafe grabbed your arm as he pulled you from the dining room. He brought you to the stairs, “Go upstairs, close your door, and wait for me,” You tried to glance out the window panes by the front door but couldn’t get a glimpse of who was there, “Go.”
The strict tone in his voice made you hurry up the stairs, although once you were at the top, you ducked down and crouched behind the banister. You watched Rafe open the door, and a shorter, dark-haired man pushed his way inside, “What’s so fucking urgent that you’re showing up without calling?” You heard Rafe ask. 
“Don’t you look fancy,” The other man commented, “Having a dinner party without me?”
“Dude, what is it?” Rafe sounded impatient. 
“It’s Maybank. I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t have some important shit to tell you.”
“Fine, come to my office.”
Their voices faded away as they moved further into the house. You debated sneaking back down and eavesdropping, but you looked down at Bunny, her face reminding you to be good. You wandered back to your room, and like Rafe told you to, you closed the door behind you. 
He was occupied for an hour before he returned to your room. Running a hand through his hair, he breathed out a sigh, “Sorry about that,” Rafe said, taking a spot next to you on the bed. 
“Who was it?” You asked quietly. 
Rafe hesitated, “... a business associate of mine. I got some bad news. I’ll probably be gone most of the day tomorrow.”
“Can’t I go with you?”
“You still need time to adjust,” He looked down at you, “It isn’t something you’ll want to see anyways. My work is nothing a little girl like you should be involved in. I won’t let you worry your pretty little head.”
“I’m sorry …”
“I’m not mad at you,” Rafe grabbed ahold of your chin, “Before if I had gotten news like that …man, I would’ve lost my shit. But I have you, and just looking at you makes me feel better.”
His hand moved to your throat, squeezing as he kissed your lips, “I want to fuck you so bad in that cute little dress.”
You struggled to get a breath, his tongue exploring your mouth as he tightened his grip around your neck. Instinctively, you grabbed ahold of his wrist, and he pushed you back onto the bed. Just as he released his grip and you were able to take in a full breath, Rafe grabbed you by the waist and flipped you over. His movements didn’t feel like they usually did; he was rough and desperate. 
“Up on your knees,” He lifted up your waist and then lifted up the skirt of your dress, your face pressed into the bed, “Good girl, stay like that, spread open for me.”
You heard him spit before you felt him press a wet hand against your clit, rubbing, before coating your entrance. He was already hard, and he wasted no time pressing his length against your entrance. In this position, you felt him even deeper as he pushed inside of you, “Daddy,” You whimpered. 
“You’re doing so good for me,” Rafe cooed, “I know you can take more. I know you can handle it.”
You squeezed the bed tightly as he moved faster and went just as deep. Rafe kept you from pulling away, holding your hips so tight you were sure they might bruise. Unmercifully, he rocked into you, only going harder when you felt yourself reaching your peak, “I’m cumming, Daddy,” You told him, your voice muffled by the fabric of the comforter, “I’m cumming.”
Rafe grabbed the back of your throat, pushing into you harder, “Cum baby, you’re squeezing me so fucking good,” Rafe panted, “Oh, Daddy’s gonna fill you up, sweet girl.”
You felt tears begin to fall, a swirl of emotions inside you. It hurt, him stretching you over and over, and yet you felt good at the same time. You were so happy to have a home with a new Master who actually cared for you and wanted to take care of you. You were still scared that you’d wake up tomorrow and you’d be back sleeping on cold, cement floors. 
After Rafe finished, the tight grip he had changed to soft caresses. He softly rubbed your bottom before slowly pulling up the skirt of your dress, “Lay down, Bambi,” Although your muscles were sore, you crawled further onto the bed, laying down on your stomach. Rafe fell beside you, caressing your hair and then your tear-stained cheeks, “It’s okay, I’ve got you.”
You wrapped your arms around him as he pulled you into a deep hug. Rafe rubbed your back until you thought you might fall asleep until you heard him say, “You won’t like it if you wake up in your dress. Let’s go brush our teeth and change into our jammies. Then Daddy will tuck you in, okay?”
Weakly, you nodded against his hard chest, “Okay, Daddy.”
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part 3
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asapeveryday · 1 month
Text
A LITTLE BREAK?★彡
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Pairing: Paige Bueckers x Academic Weapon Reader (as per request)
Warnings: smut (fingering)
Summary: You’ve been so focused on your work, and Paige thinks she needs to show you how to take a break.
A/n: thanku to the anon who requested this 💗 hope I did it sum justice
WHEN you felt her arms wrap around you the first thing you wanted to do was melt into her touch. That’s how it usually was with Paige, her words would make you stumble and the warmth of her body was an immediate distraction.
Not at the moment though. When it came to school, almost nothing could break your focus. Studying is the only thing you have full control over in your life, and as a college student going into a competitive field while dating an extremely sought after and socially successful basketball player there was already many things in your life that were beyond trying to control.
Paige usually understood how important your academics were to you. She was a good student too— perhaps not to the same extent, but she related to the value you put into results.
Her hands grip your body as she nuzzles her face into your neck, her crimped blonde hair tickling your face. She smelt like fresh laundry.
Leaning your head into hers, you sigh and force yourself to shrug her off.
“Not right now, Paigey.”
“Don’t shake me off.” She pouts, faking hurt. “You’ve been working for so fuckin’ long, I’m bored.”
You know the past week hasn’t been the best for the two of you. She’d always had a busy schedule but Paige had been managing sports, school and social life since she was little. You just weren’t on that level of time management yet, so Paige had been slightly neglected. “I know, I know. Just let me finish up and we can go get something to eat.” You mumble, not even thinking. You don’t look up from your work, but you can feel Paige’s cold eyes staring at your back.
“We’re not going out,” she says. “do you even know what time it is?”
When you don’t respond she physically spins you in your chair to face her, effectively breaking your concentration and annoying you. “Bro seriously just let me get this shit done. I already said we’d do something after. You know I need to do well on this.” You snap.
“Who’re you calling bro?” Paige sneers, crossing her arms. “Didn’t you hear me? We’re not doing shit after you study, it’s literally eleven already.”
Eleven? You turn to check the time on your phone and are unhappy to see that she’s right. The screen reads 11:05pm, meaning you’ve been working for hours thinking you’d have the evening free, but you lost track of time and now it was well past curfew. You don’t even bother to respond to Paige, who was looking at you now with an unreadable expression.
You just rest your face in your hands for a moment. You’re so, so tired and yet there’s still so much to be done. Plus, you honestly missed Paige’s company. You hadn’t been pressed against her in days.
“I’m sorry.” You finally say into your hands. “I just…I have so much to do.”
Paige pulls your hands away from your face and holds them in her own. You love when she stands over you like this, it’s never failed to send shivers down your spine at how you have to look up at her. She offers a soft smile.
“I know, baby. Don’t be sorry. I’ve been missing you, you know?”
“I know.” You respond, finally taking her in.
Paige had slept in braids the night before and taken them it before coming to see you, her light hair now beachy waves down her shoulders. She wore a black zip up and grey sweats that hung low on her hips, sometimes revealing the band of her boxer shorts.
“Oh, so you’re gonna ignore me all day and then check me out?” She quips, bring you back to reality.
“Shut up.” You laugh, getting up from the desk and wrapping your arms around her. “I guess I’ve just missed you too.”
“Want me to help you study for a bit?” She asks, stepping back and sitting on your bed.
“Sure.” You reply, but what you really want to say is “I don’t deserve you.”
-
“Ask me the fourth one again”
“Aight.” Paige says, getting out one of your flash cards and scrunching her face up as she reads what you’ve written.
“What are the traits of an organism with P-Pateu’s syndrome? The fuck is that?”
“It means they have an extra 13th autosomal chromosome.” You laugh. She just shakes her head. “You’re not even speaking English right now.”
Before you can even answer the question she whips out another card. “Wait, answer this one. Guess what Paige Bueckers thinks you should do right now?”
“You think you’re so funny.” You roll your eyes. “Paige c’mon, just finish the flash cards and then you have me all night.”
“Baby I think it’s time to take a break.” She says, tossing the cards away. Paige crawls towards you before slowly kissing your lips. Her chapstick is sweet and minty, you can’t help but chase her mouth after she pulls away. “Plus I don’t wanna wait anymore. I want you now.”
She’s eyeing you down so intensely, and suddenly you don’t care about biology right now. You want to see what she does when she wants you, it’s been so long you’ve almost forgotten.
“I guess I can take a little break.” You murmur, feeling your stomach tighten when her tongue darts out to wet her lips.
In a moment you’re caged under her arms, laughing as your head hits your soft pillows. Paige bares a smile so bright it warms your heart, her hair tickling your skin as she plants soft kisses to your face.
“Arms up.” She tuts, swiftly pulling your shirt over your head and letting out a satisfied noise at the sight of your bra-less torso. Her hands meet your breasts as she kisses you softly and you shiver at the feeling of her calloused palms against your skin. She’s usually rough when handling you, but today she is beautifully gentle.
You gasp when she pinches your nipples, which gives her easy access to slip her tongue in your mouth. Paige kisses languidly, her lips are soft and she smirks against your own every time you break from her.
Paige loves speed, aggression and pressure. Sex with her was always exhilarating and exhausting, by the end of nights with her you two were quick to pass out. You enjoyed this, she brought a different kind of rush into your life that way. This slower pace was new to you.
“What’s going on, P?” You manage to get out in between kisses. Maybe she wasn’t going to fuck you, maybe kissing and touching was all for tonight…though it usually wasn’t.
“Don’t wanna stress you out, baby.” She pulls away from you, lips pink and eyes hooded. You recognize the look on her face, it’s more then desire, it’s determination. “Lemme take your mind off of things for a bit.”
Her fingers graze your stomach as they play with the band of your pyjama shorts and she’s eyeing you with a questioning look. When you nod okay to her she slips them down your legs, leaving you topless with your cotton underwear on.
“You’re so cute.” She bites her lip as she unzips her sweater, leaving her in sweats and a black sports bra, her silver chain shining against her skin. You want to scoff at the comment but it ultimately makes you blush and hide your face, to which she lets out a chuckle.
Her fingers are agonizingly soft against the material of your underwear, rubbing the slowest, most teasing circles you’ve ever felt in your life. Her head is buried in your neck, sucking dark hickeys into your skin. “Paige.” You whine. “C’mon now, just touch me for real.”
“So impatient.” She quips, finally taking your last article of clothing off. “Look at you, all wet for me.”
“I missed you Paigey.” You say quietly, opening your legs for her. You can feel her smile against your neck, and you let out a sigh as her finger meets your clit.
You feel yourself melt into a world of pleasure as her hands please you, Paige knows exactly what to do to get you going, except this time with a softness that you’re starting to love. She’s so passionate as she praises you; licking your skin, kissing your lips and pressing her forehead to yours while subtly upping the pressure on your bud, before ultimately slipping her fingers inside of you.
“I love how focused you are all the time.” She murmurs, her hands slowly pumping in and out of you. “It’s so hard for me to stand back and let you do your thing, I just want to be on you all the time.”
You attempt to squeeze your legs shut but her hand roughly pries you open, though the moment of aggression is gone when when she continues to say “Do you know how many times I thought of you this week? So many times. Fuck, every night I thought of having you like this, spread wide open for me.”
“Oh, Paige, oh my god.” You whine, her fingers are quickening now. The noises from your slick and her loud kisses are so lewd it’s driving you insane. Her breath is warm on your skin as she whispers her heart out to you. Paige’s voice was low and almost raspy, almost enough to make you cum on its own.
“I just want you to take it easy when you’re with me, alright?” She says, meeting your eyes. You try your hardest to hold her gaze but it’s so hard when she’s in you like this, her blue eyes staring through you with intensity. You nod at her, but it’s not enough.
“Say it.” She tilts her head, curling her fingers inside of you. “Say you’ll take breaks baby.”
“I-I’ll take breaks P, I’ll take it easy.” You manage to get out, voice wavering. You’re feeling that familiar pressure in your abdomen now as her fingers passionately pump into you, your back arching and legs twitching.
“You promise?” Paige asks. Her hands are going fast now, the sight of her veiny arms between you, her digits disappearing inside of your pussy, it was driving you to the edge.
“I promise, Paige. Please, please.” You throw your head back with pleasure. She keeps up her pace while kissing you sweetly, taking your moans into her mouth and murmuring “yeah, just like that.” until you cum all over her fingers.
She sombrely pulls her hand out from you and presents it to your lips, and you eagerly suck on her fingers. Her gaze is tantalizing, she can’t look away from you even when you’re finished tasting yourself.
You bring your hands to your face and sigh, basking in the post-nut clarity. It felt so rejuvenating to be laying beneath her on your bed, lights low and warm and body buzzing from climax. You weren’t even tired, you just felt amazingly clear headed.
Paige allows her self to put her body weight on you, laying her head on your chest and wrapping her muscular arms around you. “How was that?” She asks, and her tone almost makes you laugh. She’s confident, but always giddy to please you.
“So good.” You smile. “Different, but good. Exactly what I needed.”
Paige just laughs and squeezes you. The feeling of her heart beating by yours, her eyelashes blinking against your skin. You can’t help but feel like this is all you’ll ever truly need.
“You’re not still planning on studying…right?” Paige grumbles, and you let out a heartily chuckle.
“Fuck no, that’s done for the day. I’m all yours.”
698 notes · View notes
rainbowhao · 2 months
Text
pervert p2 ♡ haechan
genre: smut ⭒ word count: 1.0k ⭒ link to p1
synopsis: you confront hyuck but it doesn't go as planned
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donghyuck has a filthy mouth and even filthier mind.
but somehow you can’t stay away from him; it’s nearly impossible when he makes himself present at every friend gathering, never missing the opportunity to give his daily dose of teasing—which had gotten progressively worse over the last few months.
like when you spent one afternoon at the beach; he’d looked at you from across the sand, biting his lip at the sight of you in swimwear. the sun warmed his bare arms, casting a honey-like glow onto his tanned skin. 
he walked over to you, currently sat on a beach towel chatting with an enthusiastic jisung about the bowl of ramen he’d made the previous night. hyuck peered down at your unaware frame. “don’t you want to play with me?” he asked.
the boy sounded innocent enough, though you knew there was a double meaning to his words. he tilted his head while awaiting your answer, long fingers tapping against the soccer ball in his hold. you try not to stare.
“i’m busy.” you huffed and pointedly averted your gaze.
hyuck pouted. “why you won’t look at me?” 
“it’s too bright.” you lied. “and i’m having a conversation.” you didn’t see the way jisung covered a growing smirk with his hand. 
or when it was a particularly windy afternoon and hyuck didn’t hesitate to get his hands on you, toying with the fabric of your shirt after he claimed he was fixing it. he’d nearly gotten slapped in the process, though ran off to jaemin’s side with a satisfied smile.
then there was the time he’d caught you checking him out (in your defense, you were drunk and he was wearing eyeliner) and he pulled you out of the crowd, leaning forward to whisper in your ear. “pretend all you want, baby.” he chuckled lowly. “i know you want me just as bad as i want you.” you were too dazed to conjure a response. “keep looking at me like that and you’ll really be in trouble.”
the encounter affected hyuck more than he’d let on—didn’t stop thinking about you the rest of the night as he played the scene on repeat. as much as he loved to run his mouth, he was all talk, nothing more than the annoying boy that followed you around and cracked sex jokes. he knew his fantasies would never turn into reality and that the only action he’d ever get was from his own hand (and your stolen underwear). 
until the pool. 
you are currently trying to drown donghyuck though failing. he’s just laughing, sputtering water and avoiding your splashes. “you think mark’s cute, huh?” his voice raises in pitch as he calls out. “hey, mark? come here!” he shrieks when you grab his shoulders and try to push him beneath the surface. 
“shut up!” you can’t help the giggles that escape your mouth, brain loopy from the hours of swimming. the boy barely budges, strong legs keeping him upright. “why do you like to make up shit?” you say. you roll your eyes and give up, though not before giving him a little shove—which only has him grinning.
 “the others aren’t out here to save you. wanna do that again?” he raises an eyebrow.
“please—even renjun can take you out.” 
“really? care to try then?” hyuck gestures. he’s got a taunting look that has your blood boiling. you’re not sure you can overpower him—not without doing something to take him by surprise. what was the best way to distract lee donghyuck? as you silently weigh your options, you realize he’s now staring at your torso. 
oh.
“what do i get if i win?” you carefully ask, already starting to slowly creep closer.
he gulps. “what do you want?”
“how about you start by returning the underwear you stole?” 
all the air leaves hyuck's lungs. fuck—he’d been caught. there was no point in pretending. “it was just once,” he swears. “okay, three times. shit—are you mad?”
you ignore him. “are you enjoying this?” even underwater you can see his growing bulge. “you like the idea of getting caught?” his jaw slackens at your words.
“are we—are we still playing?” hyuck eyes dart to the back door. he can see movement in the kitchen; anyone could come back out and see what was going down—see how pathetically turned on he was. 
the last thing hyuck ever expects is for you to tug him by his swim shirt and kiss him. you taste even sweeter than he’d imagined (probably from the watermelon you’d inhaled earlier). his hands find the back of your thighs in an instant, wrapping your legs around his waist. he groans into your mouth at the feeling of you pressing against him.
hyuck kisses you back with such intensity that you forget entirely about your plan. you’re now trapped in his hold, any hope of trying to dunk him washed away as he lewdly sucks on your lips. somehow you’re the one caught off guard here—not the other way around. instead of underwater he was boldly moving his hips in a way that had your head spinning, forgetting all about the the game and your two-year rivalry. 
“want to touch you.” he pulls away long enough to whine. “please. i’m going insane.” 
you’re breathing heavy. “what makes you think i’d let you after the shit you’ve pulled?”
hyuck’s burying his face in the crook of your neck, kissing and sucking at the skin. “sorry. i’m sorry,” he mutters apologies. “i’ll be good from now on. promise.”
your core is clenching onto nothing, fingers digging into shoulders. maybe you didn’t dislike the though of him getting off to you. maybe when you’d discovered what his sticky hands had been up to, you’d purposefully invited him over to see what he’d do.
“what about the others?”
donghyuck smirks, tongue poking the inside of his cheek; he knows he’s got you now. 
“is it bad if I say they can watch?"
a/n: I was going to wait a sane amount of time to post this but somehow it left my drafts so guess it's going up now
731 notes · View notes
atinylittlepain · 1 year
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Hello there! I was wondering if you would be down to do a Joel smut where he’s a bit insecure about his body (maybe he’s older than the reader? Scars?) but the reader wants to praise him anyway? (Praise kink? Idk how to write smut tbh)
hey! I love this idea, Joel deserves a little TLC for sure :)
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All Yours - A Joel Miller Story
Joel Miller x f!reader
joel miller masterlist
Joel has been distancing himself from her, and she's worried he's found someone else. When she discovers the real reason he's been so cold, she shows him just how much she cares for him.
warnings | 18+ SMUT, angst, age gap, insecure!Joel :(( but then fluff yay
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Joel Miller is acting strange, and it’s starting to freak her out. It had started out subtle, since they had settled in Jackson. They had never before had the luxury of sex that wasn’t fully clothed, frantic, one eye always checking for danger. But now, with a whole bed to themselves, Joel still refused to undress, instead overwhelming her with affection, his loose belt buckle and the buttons of his flannel shirts digging into her bare skin as he fucked her. She didn’t make anything of it at first, but after two months of it continuing, she was starting to get frustrated. 
Her frustration bloomed into worry when it began to escalate, Joel pulling away altogether. He started picking up odd hours for patrol shifts, coming home so late she’d barely feel him slipping into bed, long pulled under by sleep. And by the time she woke up in the morning, he’d already be gone. He was never around, she and Ellie had even started to grimly joke that the old man was always “away on business,” but really, her heart was starting to break the longer it went on. 
She is starting to resign herself to the reality that maybe Joel has gotten tired of her. After all, the only thing that had brought them together was the forced closeness of hauling Ellie across the country, and now that they’re settled in a town with plenty of pretty women – women closer to his own age, her mind cruelly adds – she can’t blame him for not wanting to be tied down. 
She feels listless in this limbo he keeps her in. He hasn’t really touched her in weeks, but he still hasn’t said anything. When he does come home and leaves a faint kiss on her forehead, she almost wishes he’d just put her out of her misery already, tell her that it’s over, that he’s letting her go, that there’s someone else. Almost. But the truth is, she loves him, probably too much for her own good. She’s not sure if she could ever let go, and it makes her angry as hell. 
Letting go starts to feel like a possibility during her next patrol shift. She has been partnered up with a young man named Mason. He’s funny and friendly, a warm smile with dimples that could’ve landed him on the front page of a magazine back before. And he seems to like her, lobbing fluffy compliments and jokes her way, brushing touches to her arms. 
When they get back to town that afternoon, he helps her dismount, firm hands on her hips that linger as she hops down. They share a small smile as Mason walks away, but hers quickly dissolves when she turns around and sees Joel fixing her with a look that she can’t quite place, his eyes squinting, lips pursed. Before she can move toward him, he’s already turning heel and sauntering off, another piece of her heart cracking at the sight.
She stays at the stables, helping out for the rest of the afternoon, her mind a haze as it replays Joel’s steely expression. She figures he won’t be home by the time she gets back to their place, and she tiredly trudges upstairs in need of a shower and another hard night of sleep. It’s such a shock to see him sitting on the edge of their bed that she actually lets out a yelp when she walks into their room, his head whipping up to look at her.
“Wha– what’re you doing home? Don’t you have a shift?” Joel huffs at her question, his chest puffing up a little as he furrows his brow at her.
“Why? You bringing Mason home?” It’s like a punch to her gut, and all she can do is let out a breathy laugh of disbelief.
“Oh no. You don’t get to do that, Joel.”
“Do what?”
“Be jealous – over nothing, I might add – not after you haven’t so much as looked at me in months.” He presses his lips into a thin line, his eyes darting away from hers, making her sigh.
“Joel– would you just talk to me, please? I feel like– like you don’t want me anymore.” His eyes flash to hers at that.
“You know that’s not true.” She huffs.
“Do I? It’s kinda hard to believe anything else. You barely talk to me anymore. And I can only hang around so long when it’s clear you’re no longer looking my way.”  He gets up and takes one stride to stand in front of her. His hands flex by his sides and she wills him to just reach out, but when he doesn’t, she lets out an exasperated sigh.
“Christ, you’re making it pretty obvious, Joel. You won’t even touch me. I just– I can’t–” He finally reaches out, his hands cupping her jaw, effectively silencing her. She curls her own hands around his wrists as he stares at her.
“That’s not what this is about. I’m not– I always want you. Don’t want anyone else.” She huffs, her heart still kicking up at his words.
“Then what, Joel? Just tell me what it is, please.” He sighs, his eyes flickering down to her lips for just a beat before he’s pulling away from her to sit back down on the edge of the bed. She follows suit, the outside of their thighs pressing firmly against each other where they sit. When he speaks again, his voice is much quieter, hoarser.
“I don’t want you to be stuck with me.” Her head whips to the side to look at him, eyes widened in total confusion.
“What? Why would you even say something like that? It’s ridiculous.” Joel keeps his eyes fixed on his hands in his lap, his voice a low murmur as he speaks.
“It ain’t ridiculous. It’s true. You could have anyone you want in this town, and I’m– well, I’m old, and not what I once was. You don’t deserve to be stuck with me just because we were on the road together. I won’t do that to you.” She can’t believe the words leaving his mouth, and lets out an incredulous scoff. She’s a bit harsh in the way she grasps his jaw, forcing him to look at her.
“Is that seriously what you think? That I’m just stuck with you because we traveled together?” He doesn’t respond, but his silence speaks volumes, making her sigh at the wavering look on his face.
“Joel, I’m with you because I want to be with you. You should know better than most that I’m not one to stick around unless I have good reason to.” He huffs at that, shaking his head in her hold.
“You shouldn’t. Shouldn’t want to be with me. Should be with someone younger, someone better, someone–” She cuts him off with a quick kiss, leaving him with wide eyes and parted lips as she smirks at him.
“Has trying to tell me what I should or shouldn’t do ever worked out for you, Miller?” She sees his throat bob as he continues to stare at her and she can’t help but laugh. Relief floods through her system at the realization that Joel still wants her by his side, followed quickly by a weary adoration for this man who thinks so little of himself. She strokes her thumb along the scruff of his cheek and leans in for another kiss, letting this one deepen until it coaxes a low groan from his throat. She only pulls away when he’s good and breathless, resting her forehead against his.
“The next time you start having stupid ideas about this, about us, you come to me first, huh?” He nods lightly, chest heaving as her other hand splays over his heart.
“Alright– still think you’d be better off with someone else.” She quirks her brow at him, pulling him with her as she stands up. His hands come naturally to rest on her hips as she fixes him in place with a tilted grin. 
“Can I show you what I think about that? About me being better off with someone else?” Joel is quiet, just a hint of a nod, but his hands are quick to grasp her wrists when she starts to work at the buttons of his shirt. She furrows her brow at him and he sighs.
“It’s just– I’m nothing to look at, darlin. A whole lot of scars and– you don’t have to– s’what I’m saying.” She feels her heart drop at his words, the truth finally settling in that this really is how low Joel thinks of himself. She presses kisses into his knuckles where they’re holding onto her wrists.
“I want to. Please let me see you, Joel.” He huffs, muscles still tensed, but he lets go of her wrists to let her continue her work. She could hear a pin drop, it’s so quiet as she undoes the last few buttons, dragging her palms back up to shrug his shirt down his arms, leaving his chest bare before her for the first time. 
She stands still for a moment, her hands hovering over his skin, taking in the sight of him. There are scars littered over his skin, but there’s obvious strength woven with softness in the tan expanses of his torso, and it takes her breath away. He jolts slightly when she finally lays her palms over his chest. She grazes her fingers down his front before dipping back up as she starts to walk around him, hands dragging up over his shoulders to rest on the broad expanse of his back. 
“You’re perfect, Joel Miller. Could look at you all day.” She seals her words with a smear of kisses pressed between his shoulder blades, smiling at the shudder she feels run through him. He grumbles, craning his neck back to catch a glimpse of her.
“Bet you say that to all the boys, huh?” She laughs as she circles back around, leaving her palms splayed over his chest.
“Mm, nope. Just the one.” That earns her a flushed grin from him that she chases after with a hard kiss, their mouths opening to each other as she twines her arms around his neck, pressing in close to his chest. The warmth radiating from him makes her dizzy, a sensation that increases tenfold when he pulls back to coax her out of her own shirt, twining back together in a bare embrace.
She starts to shuffle them backwards until he topples back onto the bed with a small “oof,” taking her along with him as she straddles his thighs. He goes to roll them over, sitting up slightly and squeezing her hips, but she’s quick to press him back down to the bed with her palm in the middle of his chest.
“Uh-uh, Miller. I’m not done looking at you.” He grumbles, but it’s quickly turned into a sigh as she dips down to start leaving open-mouthed kisses across his chest, trailing lower and lower until she’s nosing along the waist of his jeans. Joel reaches out for her, firm palm coaxing her to look up at him.
“You don’t– don’t have to do that.” She huffs, grabbing his wrist and leaning back over him to pin his hand by his head. 
“I want to. If you’ll let me, that is.” He’s looking at her like she’s crazy, pupils blown to make the swimming brown of his eyes look even darker. He finally scrunches his eyes shut, pressing his head back and letting out a breathy curse before looking at her again.
“Jesus christ– you’re asking if I’ll let you? Gonna fucking kill me– can have whatever you want, darlin. S’all yours.” She grins at that, pressing a few light kisses to his lips as she murmurs to him.
“Just relax, baby. Gonna make you feel so good.” With that, she trails back down his torso, nails grazing along his sides until her fingers land on his belt buckle and get to work. He huffs a bit when she gets off the bed entirely to unlace his boots and tug them off his feet. She just shoots him a look as she works.
“Wanna see all of you, Joel. Don’t pout.” He lets out a breathy laugh, shaking his head as he watches her shrug his jeans and boxers all the way off his legs. She’s never gotten him like this before, completely bare in front of her, and clearly under her control. It makes her mind go hazy for a moment, and she steadies herself by running her palms up the muscle of his thighs, kneeling back between his legs. 
His flushed cock has smeared precum across the soft muscle of his belly, and he lets out a harsh sigh when she noses up the vein running along the underside, lips barely brushing the tip. He instinctively reaches for her, trying to thread his fingers through her hair, but she’s quick to catch him and pin his arms back to the bed, something he grunts at so petulantly that she can’t help but laugh.
“You’re teasing me, darlin.” She just smirks, laying a kiss to his pouted lips.
“Patience, Miller. I’m getting there. Just lay back and enjoy it, huh?” Before he can get a reply in, she’s dipping back down to lick a hot stripe up his cock, coaxing a low groan from him.
He’s big enough to make her jaw ache a little as she starts to take him into her mouth, but the sweet sighs and curses he’s letting out are enough encouragement to keep going. She alternates between bobbing down his length and laving her tongue over the tip, and from the way Joel is tugging his hands through his hair as he watches her with a crumpled brow, it seems to be the right combination.
“Fuck, darlin– gotta mouth on you, huh? Taking me so well– fucking christ.” She leans back slightly to spit into her palm, wrapping her hand around the base of him that she can’t quite reach with her mouth. She can’t take her eyes off him, the blooming flush spreading across his chest, the way the quick pink of his tongue keeps darting out to wet his lips, the muscles in his forearms jumping with the way he’s raking his fingers through his hair.
“So pretty like this, Joel. Never wanna stop looking at you.” He grumbles at that, covering his face with his forearm but she lifts up to tug his arm away, holding his chin to get him to look at her even as he huffs.
“Don’t think I’ve ever been called pretty before. That’s a new one.” 
“I mean it. So pretty for me. Just for me, right?” She can see the bob of his throat as he nods in her grip.
“Just for you, darlin. Only for you.” That’s all she wanted to hear, needed to hear, and she presses another chaste kiss to his lips before lowering back between his legs and taking him back into her mouth. 
She can feel his thighs flexing under her palms, a clear sign that he’s getting close coupled with the dissolving string of praises and curses leaving his lips. 
“Fuck– you gotta stop or I’m gonna come.” She barely pulls off him, her lips still brushing his swollen tip as she grins up at him.
“That’s kinda the point, Miller.” She takes him into her mouth as far as she can, gagging lightly when his tip hits the back of her throat. Joel lets out a warbly moan, his voice cracking on a curse as he presses his head back into the sheets. 
It’s not long before he’s tensing up hard, a broken chant of her name leaving his mouth as his warmth starts to pool in her mouth. She doesn’t pull away until the muscles in his thighs have relaxed, holding his hazy stare as she swallows his spend. Joel lets out another curse at the sight, chest still heaving. 
“Never gonna stop replaying that in my head, fuck.” She laughs at his breathy words, crawling over him to lay down in the crook of his arm, her cheek resting over his heart. She lays a kiss between his collar bones before craning her neck up to press her lips to his, pulling away with a sweet smack.
“Are you done acting like a fucking fool now?” He huffs at her smug words, but the crooked smile threatening to spread across his face tells her all she needs to know.
“I’m sorry for how I’ve been acting. Was just trying to give you an out.” She settles back into his chest with his arm wrapped around her, calloused palm brushing along her back.
“Well don’t. If anything, you’re stuck with me, Miller.” A deep laugh rumbles through his chest as he squeezes her a little closer.
“Don’t mind the sound of that, darlin.”
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lxndonorris · 6 days
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home race - Oscar Piastri
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Y/N x Oscar Piastri Theme: Smut (you've been warned) you're in a long-distance relationship with Oscar and surprise him at his "home race" x word count: 3250+ taglist: @game-set-canet open for requests :) EN: Another big piece and I hope you'll like it. My first time writing Oscar.
You sat in your living room, staring at your phone. The screen displayed a countdown timer you set months ago when you and Oscar, your boyfriend, decided you could handle a long-distance relationship.
Living in the United States while dating a Formula 1 driver based in Europe wasn't easy, but the two of you made it work. You spoke every day, sent each other thoughtful gifts, and cherished the moments you could spend together in person.
The countdown finally hit zero. It is time for your big surprise.
Oscar is in Monaco for the Grand Prix, and you planned to surprise him for months since the season started. You told him you wouldn't be able to make it due to work commitments, but in reality, you managed to arrange everything perfectly, with a little help from the Mclaren Team.
You had your flights booked, your accommodation sorted, and a special pass that would allow you into the Mclaren motorhome, where Oscar would eventually be.
When you boarded your flight, you felt a mixture of excitement and nerves. You knew how much this surprise would mean to Oscar. The past few months have been challenging for him, dealing with the pressures of being a professional F! driver while missing you. You wanted to make this moment unforgettable.
After a long flight and a quick check-in at your hotel in Monaco, you head straight to the racetrack. You are wearing a Mclaren team hoodie, jeans, and a fitting cap, blending in with the team. You find your way to the motorhome and, with the help of a team member who is in on the surprise, get inside and wait for Oscar.
The atmosphere in Monaco is electric. The sun shines brightly over the azure waters of the Mediterranean, and the roar of engines echoes through the narrow streets of the city. The Monaco Grand Prix is one of the most prestigious races on the calendar, and the excitement is palpable.
The qualifying session just ends, and he pushes his car to the limit and secures second place on the grid. The team is ecstatic, and Oscar feels a rush of adrenaline as he climbs out of the car, waving to the cheering fans. 
Inside the motorhome, your heart races as you finally hear footsteps approaching. The door opens, and you turn around to see Oscar standing there, a look of shock and disbelief on his face.
"Y/N? Is that really you?" Oscar's voice trembles with emotion.
You smile, your eyes filling with tears.
"Surprise!"
Oscar closes the distance between you in an instant, wrapping you in a tight embrace. He buries his face in her hair, inhaling your familiar scent, and holds you as if he never wants to let go.
At the same time, the faint scent of him swirls around you, and with a deep breath, you take it in, closing your eyes for a second to relish in this moment.
"What are you doing here?" He murmurs, his voice choked with emotion. "I can't believe you're here."
"I wanted to be here for you, at your home race." You say softly. "I've missed you so much, Oscar Piastri Leclerc."
Both of you pull back slightly to look at each other, your eyes meeting with an intensity that speaks volumes. Oscar cups your face in his hands, his thumbs gently brushing away the tears that escape down your cheeks.
"I've missed you too, Y/N. More than you can imagine."
You kiss—a tender and passionate kiss that seems to make up for all the time you spent apart. 
When you finally break apart, Oscar can't stop smiling.
"You look amazing in that Mclaren gear," he says, his eyes roaming all over you as they sparkle with admiration.
You chuckle, feeling a warmth spread through you. "I have to show my support for my favorite driver."
As you stand facing each other, the air between you seems to be charged with electricity. You feel the tension and excitement from qualifying still radiating off Oscar. 
Tentatively, you reach out, letting your hand run across his firm chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heaving chest beneath your fingertips. His whole body is slightly tensed, still buzzing from the adrenaline rush.
Oscar's eyes soften as he looks at you, a smile spreading across his lips.
"It's so good to see you," he murmurs, his voice filled with awe.
You smile back, your gaze drifting over his racing suit. "You look so good in that green and yellow racing suit, Oscar. Really, you do. It suits you perfectly."
The special suit, designed to honor Senna, clings to his frame in all the right ways, accentuating his athletic build. The vibrant colors contrast beautifully with his complexion, making him look every bit the star he is.
Oscar chuckles, a hint of pride in his eyes. "Thanks. I didn't think I could pull off these colors, but hearing it from you makes me believe it."
Your fingers linger on his chest, feeling the rise and fall of his breath. "I missed you so much," you whisper, your voice thick with emotion. 
As your hand continues to stroke his chest, you feel Oscar's hands move to your waist, his fingers lightly gripping the fabric of your jeans. He pulls you slightly closer; your bodies now mere inches apart. The intensity of his gaze makes your heart flutter.
"Do you have some free time?" You ask, your voice soft and teasing, eyes glimmering with anticipation.
Oscar smirks, a playful glint in his eyes. "For you? Always."
The corner of your mouth lifts in a smile, your hand moving up to his shoulder. "Good." You breathe deeply, feeling the tension between you increase even more. "Because I've been waiting for this moment for a long time."
Unable to resist any longer, you lean in and kiss him passionately. The moment your lips meet, Oscar melts into the kiss, his arms tightening around your waist. The warmth and familiarity of the embrace make everything else disappear, leaving just the two of you in your own private world.
As the kiss deepens, you steady yourself against his firm chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart beneath your palm. His hum of approval sends a thrill through you, and you take your time, savoring the moment, relishing the closeness you missed for far too long.
With a teasing glint in your eye, you reach for the zipper of his racing suit. Slowly, you begin to unzip it, feeling the resistance of the fabric give way. Oscar's breath hitches as you draw the zipper down to his tummy, exposing his tight black fireproofs beneath.
You let your hands slip inside, and stroke his chest. "You look so good," you murmur, your hands resting on the exposed fabric. The smooth, taut material hugs his body, accentuating his toned muscles.
Oscar's eyes darken with desire as he looks at your hands running across his chest, a mixture of amusement and longing playing on his features. "You're making it very hard to concentrate," he says, his voice low and husky.
You chuckle softly, your fingers tracing patterns on his fireproofs. "Good," you whisper, leaning in for another kiss. 
This time, it is slower, more deliberate; each touch and caress a reminder of the desire crackling between you.
As your kisses grow more intense, you feel the heat rising between your bodies. Oscar's hands roam over your back, pulling you even closer, as if he can't bear to let you go.
With your hands still roaming over his chest, you draw a line down to his abs, feeling the firm muscles beneath your fingertips. Each touch elicits several low growls from deep inside his throat, the sound sending shivers down your spine. As you continue your exploration, Oscar leans his head back, his eyes closing as he savors the sensation.
You decide to take things a step further. 
"Let me help you." You breathe deeply, gently pushing the upper half of his suit off his shoulders. 
Oscar obliges, his breath hitching as you peel the fabric away, revealing more of his muscular torso. The sleeves hang down from his waist, the tight fireproofs beneath barely able to contain the immense tension building inside him.
His muscles bulge with each movement, with each breath he takes, the strain and excitement of the day evident in every contour of his body. You can't help but admire him, your hands now tracing the lines of his arms, feeling the strength beneath his skin.
Oscar opens his eyes and looks at you, his gaze filled with desire and affection. "You're driving me crazy," he growls, his voice rough with need.
You smile with a playful glint in your eye. "Flex for me." You reply, your fingers continuing their journey across his entire upper body.
With a mischievous grin, Oscar obliges again, flexing his arms and chest, showcasing the impressive muscles that have been honed through countless hours of training. The sight makes your heart skip a beat; a rush of admiration and desire floods through you.
"Like what you see?" he teases, his eyes sparkling with mischief.
You bite your lip, trying to keep your composure as you let your hands roam over his flexed muscles. "You have no idea," you reply, your voice filled with genuine awe.
He chuckles, the sound low and rumbling from deep inside his chest. "I'm just glad you're here to see it."
One of your hands traces the contours of his biceps, feeling the power and strength beneath your fingers, while you let your other hand roam freely across his chest and even further down to his crotch.
You feel his hunger building up inside his pants; the fabric bulges just along his member tenting visibly. With two fingers, you trace the tangible outlines of his lust again and again, eliciting more and more deep growls from his throat.
Oscar is thoroughly enjoying himself, responding to your teasing with a mixture of laughter and passion. You see the gleam in his eyes, the way he savors every touch and caress. 
Then, with a bold move, you slip one of your hands underneath his fireproofs, feeling the intense heat of his skin radiating against your palm.
Oscar's breath hitches at the sensation, his eyes so dark with desire. With a swift motion, he swipes the Mclaren cap from your head and lets it drop to the floor. A playful chuckle escapes his lips as he leans in, capturing your mouth in a deep, fervent kiss.
The kiss is electric, filled with a hunger that threatens to consume you both—the long separation and the yearning that built up between you. Your fingers splay across his warm skin, feeling the hard lines of his muscles beneath your fingertips. 
Oscar's hands roam over your back again, pulling you closer, before he takes the lead, guiding you through the room and across a huge empty wall. Gently, your back meets the wall, steadying the two of you fully. 
You feel the rhythm of his heartbeat, fast and powerful, matching your own. The world around you seems to fade away, leaving just the two of you locked in your passionate embrace.
His hands are now all over your chest, his touch both soft and possessive. Each caress sends waves of electricity through you, making your pulse race as far as his race car.
Oscar's kisses trail down your neck, leaving a warm, tingling sensation in their wake. His lips are gentle yet insistent, making a path that sets your skin on fire. The sensation is almost overwhelming—a perfect blend of tenderness and desire that makes your heart swell with emotion.
Amidst your intimate moment, you take in Oscar's familiar scent, a comforting aroma that envelopes you in a sense of security and belonging—a mixture of his cologne, mingled with the faint trace of adrenaline from the day's events, and the subtle hint of his natural scent.
Breathing him in, you feel a wave of warmth wash over you, and his scent is like a familiar embrace, making it even harder to concentrate.
Now, his hands slide underneath your hoodie, his fingertips dancing across your skin. You shiver at the sensation, your body responding instinctively to his touch. The contrast of his warm hands against the cool evening air heightens your senses, making every touch feel even more intense.
"You're amazing." Oscar breathes against your neck, his voice rough with emotion. "I need you."
Your breath hitches, your hands grip his shoulders for support as you tilt your head back, giving him better access. "Oscar," you whisper, your voice trembling with a mixture of desire and affection.
His hands roam freely now, exploring every inch of your torso with a reverent touch. You feel the strength and control in his fingers, the way he holds you as if you were the most precious thing in the world.
You arch into his touch, your own hands exploring the hard planes of his back, feeling the tension in his muscles. The fabric of his fireproofs is smooth and cool against your palms, a stark contrast to the heat radiating from his body.
"Oscar." You murmur again, your voice barely audible as you revel in the sensations he is creating. "I need you, too."
He lifts his head, his eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that takes your breath away.
"I'm right here," he replies, his voice steady yet husky.
Licking your lips in anticipation, you let out a long, exhausted sigh. At the same time, you feel one of his hands make its way down your chest and right to your jeans. In one swift motion, he unbuttons it, just to make way for his hand to slip inside.
Your breath hitches right away as you feel his fingers tracing patterns in all the right places.
Even though it's hard to keep your composure, you manage to return the favor, letting one of your hands run down his back, along his spine, around his waist, and between his legs.
As you touch him, Oscar lets out a low, primal groan, the culmination of all the teasing and desire building up between them. His response sends a thrill through you, igniting a fire that burns hotter with each passing moment.
The tension is palpable; both of you are aching for a release, craving the other's touch.
Together, you help each other undress just enough to make it work. Panting and growling, he tugs at your jeans until they are sliding down to your ankles, so his hands stroke your thighs delicately.
Then, it's your turn to help him. Pulling at the suit clinging to his skin, the two of you manage to pull his length out of his pants, just for you to hold it and play with it.
Exhausted, Oscar leans in, kissing you passionately. You melt into him, offering yourself for what's to come next.
The moment he slides inside your body, it sparks a tingling sensation inside your stomach, and you let out a low grunt. Simultaneously, he moans right into your mouth, making it even harder to keep a straight face.
He is the first to take the lead again.
With your back against the wall, he begins to grind his hips against yours, rhythmically, sensually, and it is easy for you to catch up. The two of you move in sync with one another, letting out low growls, moans, and grunts.
Your hands wander all over his chest, stroking him through his firerpoofs. Oscar's breath comes in ragged gasps, his eyes dark with desire as he watches you. 
The sensation of your touch through the fabric sends waves of heat through him, encouraging him to increase the pace and strength of his thrusts. In return, he steadies himself against the wall behind you while his other hand lingers on your breasts.
Your movements are slow and deliberate; you are fully aware of his most sensitive spots, and you encourage him more and more. Pinching his nipples, tracing the tangible outlines of his abs, and feeling his muscles bulge harder and hader.
Panting and moaning, Oscar's body grows stiff and rigid; unable to contain himself, he bites his lower lip before he grunts angrily.
"Fuck."
You revel in the power you have over him and the way he responds so intensely to your touch.
With each stroke, you feel him growing even more aroused, his body still tightening instinctively to your touch. His hands grip your breasts tighter, sending waves of pleasure through your entire body.
The two of you move as one; every thrust sends you closer and closer to the edge, and the way he grunts deeply tells you he feels the same.
As you lose yourself in the heat of the moment, you know there is no turning back. Your passion burns bright, consuming you both in a whirlwind of sensation and emotion.
With one final, heavy thrust, both of you let go of all that pressure and tension and scream out in ecstasy.
Several exhausted moans leave Oscar's lips, and he leans forward, grateful for the wall steadying him. At the same time, you lean your head back, moaning deeply.
You rest your head against his shoulder, swallowing hard. His body embraces yours right away; his firm shoulder is the perfect place right now.
Out of breath, the two of you barely regain your composure before you lock eyes again, both of you smiling contently.
"That was so good." He moans, exhausted, before he leans in, kissing you deeply.
"Oscar." You breathe into him, kissing him back.
After your passionate moment, you share another tender smile, your hearts still racing with the intensity of your connection. 
With gentle touches and soft kisses, you help each other get dressed again, your movements slow and deliberate again.
As you adjust the sleeves of his fireproofs, you look up at Oscar, your eyes filled with affection. "You were amazing today," you say, your voice filled with pride. "I am so proud of you."
Oscar smiles back, his expression softening. "I am so glad you are here." He replies, his voice tinged with gratitude.
As he begins to change into fresh clothes, you watch him closely, unable to tear your eyes away. 
Oscar moves with natural grace; every movement is fluid and confident. You can't help but admire the way his muscles shift beneath his skin as he removes his racing suit and tight firerpoofs.
He catches your gaze, a playful smirk tugging at his lips. Sensing your admiration, he makes a little show out of changing, exaggerating his movements slightly as he slips out of his fireproofs and into a fresh pair of underwear you hand him.
You laught at his antics, enjoining the playful side of him that he reserves just for you. As you pull on the pair of jeans and the Mclaren shirt, you feel a surge of affection for him, admiring the way he looks in the team gear.
"You look amazing." You say. "But then again, you always do."
Oscar grins, his eyes shining brightly. "I have to look my best, especially with you around." He replies, his tone teasing.
With a final adjustment to his shirt, Oscar turns to you, his expression softening. "Thank you for being here," he says, his voice sincere. 
You reach out and place your hand on his chest again, gently stroking him once more. "I'll always be here for you." You reply. "No matter what."
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yanderestarangel · 2 months
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BOSS MIGUEL O'HARA x HOUSEKEEPER FTM! READER
smut confectionery event ┆ CUPCAKES ┆possessive sex, overstimulation , breed!kink, dub con. ˖⁺ ⊹୨ "hard!dom boss + sub!housekeeper." ୧⊹ ⁺˖ ── SMUT
˖⁺ ⊹୨ 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓹𝓸𝓼𝓽 𝓫𝓮𝓵𝓸𝔀 𝓬𝓸𝓷𝓽𝓪𝓲𝓷𝓼 𝓭𝓪𝓻𝓴 𝓬𝓸𝓷𝓽𝓮𝓷𝓽 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓪𝓵𝓵 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓬𝓸𝓷𝓽𝓮𝓷𝓽 𝓪𝓭𝓿𝓮𝓻𝓽𝓲𝓼𝓮𝓭 𝓸𝓷 𝓽𝔀. 𝓹𝓵𝓮𝓪𝓼𝓮 𝓲𝓯 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓭𝓸𝓷'𝓽 𝓵𝓲𝓴𝓮 𝓭𝓸𝓷'𝓽 𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓭 ୧⊹ ⁺˖
𝓬𝓸𝓶𝓶𝓮𝓷𝓽𝓼 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓻𝓮𝓫𝓵𝓸𝓰𝓼 𝓪𝓻𝓮 𝔀𝓮𝓵𝓬𝓸𝓶𝓮<3
TW: ftm reader, possessive sex, jealousy, dark decencies, v!sex, vulnerable!kink, cunnilingus, fingering creampie, power play, afab anatomy, porn plot, breed!kink, bite.
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You have received an offer to work in the home of the most powerful Spider-Man in the multiverse, Miguel O'Hara in Nueva York 2099. Being Miguel's domestic servant was calm and subtle ── you had complete freedom to be at his house all day, and there were few things to take care of, just cleaning the floor, making food and leaving everything organized and dust-free.
He had some technological gadgets thrown on the floor in some places, but you didn't even touch them, orders from the man himself, even Layla, his assistant A.I. would talk to you to check your work or if you needed something... He was a boss attentive and worried, even too much. But you never thought that you would now be hunched over the dinner table wearing only the apron with nothing underneath that he told you to wear while he held your neck tightly, his eyes were feral and you could see venom dripping from his canines.
The reason for his fury? You were seen with a man from the city and what's worse, you flirted with him back ─ you never thought it was a big problem, after all, you were single and young but for Miguel you had a serious problem... You were from him.
The truth was that the futuristic Spider-Man had hired you because you could be his perfect future husband, beautiful, helpful, you took care of him and did everything he told you to do; He is was always a cold and calculating man in everything but mental insanity was increasingly present in his head after losing his family from another reality, you were his chance to be happy again with someone even if you weren't even aware of what he worked for in months.
Coming back to reality, you saw Miguel smile sadistically as he watched your breasts bounce out of the containment of the thin fabric of the lacy apron ─ he saw the way you were flushed, how your nipples were hard and your pussy was gradually lubricating itself. every time you inhaled his perfume, they were mixed with the pheromones that released from his skin because of the change in his blood.
"Did you really think you were going to flirt with someone and I wouldn't know? Are you that stupid, guapo? Don't you understand your place yet? So maybe I should teach you your role in this house and in my life." Miguel growled between clenched teeth, as he pushed you onto the table again - this time he placed you with his hips raised, giving access to your ass and pussy, he looked at the holes in your body while smiling sadistically, kneeling with his face close for your pussy.
You shivered just at the proximity of his face to your cunt, you felt O'Hara's hot breath on your skin as his hot tongue entered your hole without warning ─ it had been so long since you had sex, just with your own fingers or rub yourself against your pillow before going to sleep.
"Are you so needy? I barely touched you." Miguel taunted as he dipped two thick fingers inside your wetness, easily hitting your sweet spot as he watched you squirm with his every touch ─ the junction of fingers and tongue working together, the stress of the day seemed to vanish, replaced by pure pleasure.
Playing with you and treating you like his personal toy made him feel in control and extremely good. But the jealousy was still there, he needed more, he needed to prove that you are his boy.
"You always know how to turn me on, boy. You're so fucking beautiful." He whispered against your sensitive skin making you moan his name, perhaps a request for him to stop or continue ── regardless of what it was, he didn't care, all the blood that helped him think rationally pumped his cock.
Miguel soon removed his mouth from you, leaving a string of saliva momentarily connecting you both; his eyes glowed red, full of hunger for your flesh.
No additional warning you felt his thick hot girth enter you at once making you arch your back and try to accommodate his raw size and rhythm in your core.
"That's it, boy. Take it." Miguel's eyes were focused on his cock, seeing it slide into you smoothly. He couldn't help but groan, his hands gripping your hips tightly ─ He felt powerful, like he was in control of everything.
"Cum for me, boy. Let me feel that pretty pussy squeeze my dick while I breed you, Oh─ You will be my perfect husband, and we will have several children... You and me."
You couldn't think straight, the pain of pleasure mixed with each rough thrust he gave you making you moan like a slut in heat. The feeling of being breed by him sent sensations in your brain making you roll your eyes and salivate begging him to do that, fill you up and make you his soon ─ The words came out like sobs from your lips without shame or modesty, while at the base of his cock was a beautiful halo of semen as he held your body tightly babbling about how you It belonged to him, biting your shoulders until it marked your delicate skin.
"You are mine, you are mine, you are mine, you are mine, you are mine, you are mine, YOU'RE FUCKING MINE!" ─
Miguel cum hard inside you, holding you and watching your body shake every time you enjoyed the intense orgasm that he had given you, he soon pulls your hair forcing you to look at him.
"My dinner isn't over yet, right? I still have my dessert left."
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𝓭𝓪𝔂 𝓽𝔀𝓸 𝓬𝓸𝓶𝓹𝓵𝓮𝓽𝓮, 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓼𝓾𝓷𝓭𝓪𝓮𝓼 𝓽𝓱𝓮𝔂'𝓻𝓮 𝓰𝓸𝓷𝓮....𝓬𝓸𝓶𝓮 𝓫𝓪𝓬𝓴 𝓽𝓸𝓶𝓸𝓻𝓻𝓸𝔀 𝓯𝓸𝓻 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓷𝓮𝔁𝓽 𝓫𝓪𝓽𝓬𝓱 𝓸𝓯 𝓼𝔀𝓮𝓮𝓽𝓼
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getosbigballsack · 2 months
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Random thought! Rebellious boyfriend Gojo Satoru X shy nerdy reader anymore cause now reader Chan is
"I'm pregnant!"
You're eighteen years of age, and you are still a senior in high school. You only had a few more months until college entrance exams and graduation, but the choice you made to sleep with your boyfriend on the night of his birthday is how you ended up in this situation.
But how? He was wearing a condom that night and when he finally pulled out of you a few long hours of passionate sex, the condom he used still held his cum. So how and why? You probably know the answer; it must have been ripped somewhere, but you didn't want to admit that.
You're devastated, to say the least. You couldn't stop crying as you stared at the pregnancy test in your hand. What were you going to do now, keep the baby? What if your boyfriend hates you for this? How is he even going to react? How are you even going to tell him?
Well, there's only one way to find out. He was already on his way to Shoko's house after receiving a message asking him to come over as quickly as possible.
So, in a matter of minutes, he was at her house in her room sitting on the bed with you and the pregnancy test in his hand. You couldn't look at him, too afraid of what his face might look like. Too afraid of what he might say. You were just preparing for the worst-case scenario.
"Take another one, just to be sure."
That is what he said to you, shocking you, Shoko, and his best friend Geto that somehow tagged along to be a part of whatever that was about to happen.
That was the last thing that you're expecting. And honestly you were about to ask him why you need to take another pregnancy test when he already had one in his hand that clearly reads positive, but then he rested his hand open your cheek and whispered, “Please, take another just to be sure.” 
So you did, and after five minutes of waiting, the second test came back positive.
“You really are pregnant,” he said in disbelief. He tossed the test on the bed and rested his face in the palm of his hands. Reality finally hit him all at once. “Shoko, Sugu, can you leave us here for a moment? I want to talk to Y/N alone.” And they left, not without looking back at the both of you, though. 
Soon, the door closed, leaving a weeping and almost drained looking Gojo Satoru. There is a moment of silence, an uncomfortable silence that had you assuming the worst. Is he going to break up with you? Is it over? You couldn't help the thoughts that were running through your mind all at once, the anxiety you felt sitting next to him as you waited for him to say something to you. Then, finally, he spoke. 
“Y/N I…” 
“Are you going to break up with me?” You said to him, bursting into fits of tears. Gojo’s eyes grew wide, and his hand quickly slung itself around your shoulder to pull you closer. “Please don't break up with me… I didn't… I-I.” 
“Y/N, baby, calm down. Who said anything about breaking up,” Gojo said, quickly pulling you onto his lap and wrapping his other hand around your waist. You laid your head on his shoulders, tears still running down your face and soaking his shirt. 
“I… I just thought that. I mean, we aren't ready for… you didn't - I'm sorry. I'm just scared.” 
“And I'm scared too,” he admitted. “But I’m not going to break up with you. I told you haven't I that you and I are going to spend the rest of our lives together."” 
“But I messed up. I… I caused such a huge mess that is going to ruin your life and, and I- I…” 
Unable to finish your sentence, Gojo gently fisted his hand in your hair and pulled your head back a bit just to kiss your lips in hopes that it'll calm you down. It broke his heart to see you in tears over something that wasn't your fault. If anything, he should be blamed. 
He should have checked the condom for leakage when he pulled out. He should have been more prepared. After all, he has a bit more experience than you, so he knew that it only takes one time, one slip up for you to get pregnant. 
“Y/N,” he whispered your name against your lips. He gave you one last reassuring kiss then he said, “If you are looking for someone to blame, then put it all on me.” 
“But… but I can't do that to you,” you cried. 
“Yes you can, because I knew better. I should've been careful knowing that anything can happen during sexual intercourse. So if you want someone to blame…” 
“No I won't, I can't,” you quickly spoke. 
He sighed, “Alright then,” before pulling you into a warm hug. You both sat there in silence for a while, Gojo was raking through his mind, thinking about what he possibly could say next. Well, he knew what he wanted to say to you, but he didn't want his opinion to sway you away from yours. 
“What do you want to do?”
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barcaatthemoon · 1 month
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be like water || fridlona rolfo x reader ||
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you try to pull away from frido when your feelings become too much to handle.
you didn't think it was possible for you to be so stupid. there had never been a doubt in your mind about following frido and ingrid from wolfsburg to barcelona. they were your best friends, and it made ingrid feel a lot better if she was close enough to really look out for you. what you couldn't believe was how quickly you managed to fall for frido once mapi came into the picture.
in all actuality, you had always had feelings for frido. she was kind, caring, and gorgeous. however, she had always ever spoken about boyfriends. you knew that didn't mean your crush was completely hopeless, but you also had trouble imagining a reality where frido liked you back.
you could think of a million reasons why frido wouldn't have felt the same way about you. there would always be so many things standing in the way of your happy ending. you were fairly certain that frido was straight since she had never shown an interest in any of your other teammates before. if it wasn't that, then the age gap was sure to get you. you had been barely 18 whenever the two of you had met, and it didn't help that ingrid had introduced you as "the baby" of the norweigan team.
'baby norway' was what they had been calling you since your call up to the national team at the tender age of 15. you had been a super sub back then, but it had only taken you a year and a half to become a consistent starter. you'd been blessed with practically no injuries, none that required rehab or surgeries at the very least. however, all of that came crashing down around you at barcelona.
it had started with a little tweak of your ankle during practice. frido cursed herself for not noticing it earlier whenever you went down at the next game. you knew that it wasn't her fault, you had already begun to pull away from her. still, she sat with you in the trainer's room while it got checked out.
"frido, you don't have to stay here," you told her. ingrid was out on the pitch and mapi was sitting in the stands with the rest of the injured players. you had hoped that frido would have stayed on the pitch, but instead, she had been insistent on coming with you. it was hard for you to avoid your feelings whenever frido openly showed how much she cared for you.
"jona has already subbed me off. am i just supposed to leave you here all by yourself?" frido asked you. you opened your mouth to tell her that was exactly what she should do, but she cut you off first. "don't be ridiculous. you and ingrid were there for me whenever i got hurt. i want to be here for you too."
"frido, please. this is the last thing that i need right now. just, go take a shower and calm down," you said. frido couldn't come up with a reason to argue with you, so she reluctantly left you in the trainer's room. once she was gone, you laid back and took a deep breath. it felt like a weight was lifted off of your chest once she was gone, only to be replaced by guilt clawing its way through your throat. frido just wanted to be there for you, but you couldn't get over your stupid feelings for her long enough to let her.
"so, tell me again why i'm the one picking you up from the hospital when i know for a fact that frido asked to do this?" ingrid asked you. she had been around countless times when frido offered to take care of you or escort you from appointment to appointment.
"we haven't gotten to spend much time together lately, and i missed you, that's all." it wasn't a complete lie, but ingrid knew that it wasn't the whole truth either. she pulled down a side street and turned her car off. you couldn't get out on your own, so the two of you were trapped there until ingrid got the truth out of you.
"did something happen between the two of you?" ingrid asked. you shook your head as you pulled your good leg up into the seat in front of you. you rested your head against your knee to keep it turned away from ingrid. "you still love her, don't you?"
"of course i love her, she's my best friend. i came all the way from germany for her, ingrid. i just didn't know that i couldn't be around her alone," you confessed. ingrid paused as she took in your words. you had always been adamant that you came for both of your friends, even if ingrid knew otherwise. she knew all about the secret feelings you kept for frido, just like she knew how conflicted frido felt about you.
"mapi is going to kill me for this, but i want you to stay with me for the next week or so, okay? neither frido nor i want you to be alone, but i won't force you to stay with her if you can't handle it," ingrid told you. you thanked her quietly as she started the car up again and drove off towards her apartment.
she didn't tell you about frido already being at your place. ingrid didn't tell you a lot of things, just like she didn't tell frido anything either. she kept both of your secrets until one of you were ready to come out with it. she wanted to help you desperately, but knew that it wasn't her place to put it all out in the open.
"i don't get it. did i do something?" frido was practically tearing her hair out as she sat on the couch next to ingrid and aitana. your stay with mapi and ingrid had ended over a week ago, but you were still dodging all of frido's texts and calls.
"it's not you, i promise," ingrid reassured the older woman. "the baby just has some things to work out, that's all. this is a difficult time for her, she's going through a lot."
"but why is she pushing me away? i could help her, but she won't let me." tears sprung to frido's eyes. you had always seemed closer with ingrid because of your shared nationality, but it had never been an issue for frido before. "i need a minute."
"frido, wait!" ingrid shouted. frido was standing, but she didn't make a move to leave her place. "let me drive you to (y/n)'s. i think you two realy need to talk."
"she doesn't want anything to do with me. i'm not you, it's okay," frido said. ingrid sighed and pulled frido outside. the drive from your place was pretty short, usually just a ten minute walk.
ingrid felt bad about blindsiding you, but this conversation couldn't wait any longer. both you and frido were tearing yourselves apart trying to navigate feelings and your friendship. ingrid knew how easy it could be for both of you, and that was all she wanted. she just wanted her friends to be happy, even if the thought of making a move terrified the both of them.
you hadn't expected any visitors, so ingrid and frido's arrival had taken you by surprise. ingrid shoving frido through your front door and closing it for you was an even bigger one. ingrid knew practically everything, and yet, here she was forcing you to be alone with the person who had been giving you so much grief for the past few months.
"i think we need to talk, but i don't know what to say to you," you told frido. you hobbled over to your couch and sat down. frido just stood in front of you and paced around your living room. "fridolina, calm down."
"no, i can't. i am sick and tired of being calm about this. you've got me worried sick. i care about you so much, and i want to help you through whatever this is, but you won't let me. i know that i'm not ingrid, and i'm sorry, but fuck! let me help you." frido's voice grew as she spoke, but she never really got close to shouting at you. "talk to me, please. i miss the way things were in germany, it felt so much easier back then."
"trust me, it was never any easier. we just weren't alone back then like we are now," you told her. frido glanced down at you, a look of confusion on her face. "i don't want you to be ingrid, frido. i love you for you, and that's the problem."
"your problem is that you love me?" frido asked you. you nodded, unable to look up and meet her gaze. you kept your eyes down as you felt her approach you. the couch dipped down as frido sat down next to you. you shuddered when her arm wrapped around you, even though you had been craving her affection since you started to distance yourself. "look at me, (y/n), please."
"i can't," you whispered. frido sighed as she pressed a kiss to the side of your forehead. "i can't do this. i have to talk to jona. i have to go back to wolfsburg or just somewhere else."
"don't run away from your feelings. just look at me, please," frido pleaded with you. she was on the verge of getting on her knees and begging you to look at her. you didn't know why, but something in her voice compelled you to go against your instincts.
your eyes met tearful blue ones, and you nearly broke because of it. frido gently caressed your cheek, rubbing her thumb along your cheekbone as she stared at you. there was no disgust or pity in frido's eyes, which caught you by surprise. all you could see was relief. your friendship didn't implode on the spot because of your admission, which filled you with a relief that you couldn't even begin to describe.
"i love you too," frido told you. she leaned forward and pressed her forehead against yours. her eyes flicked down to your lips before coming back up to meet your eyes again. "can i kiss you?"
frido barely managed to finish her sentence before you were lurching forward. she caught your body in her arms, allowing for you to practically lay on top of her as the two of your lips met in a passionate kiss. frido began to push you back a bit to catch her breath. you let out a whine as her lips moved off of yours.
"i've wanted this for so long that i don't ever want to stop," you said quietly. frido smiled as she pressed a quick kiss to your lips. "i thought you'd hate me if i told you how i felt. i had tried for so long to be cool and casual, but i couldn't. the more time we spent here without ingrid, the harder it became."
"i wish that you had told me how you felt, but i am not sure that i would have accepted it at first. i think we were both going through something, but that's over now. we have each other, and if you're willing to give me a chance, i'd like to see where this goes." frido's words made your heart swell a little with happiness. it was an odd feeling, finally having your feelings reciprocated. you didn't know what to do with yourself. you didn't know where things were going, but you hoped that they flowed as easily and naturally as your friendship with her had.
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