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quickandsilvers · 5 months

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REQUEST FROM THE SLEEP HEADCANON!!!¡

💤💤💤💤

peter and reader are the closest best friends can be, even having the biggest crush on each other they keep pretending they don’t.

one day, they fall asleep together at peters bed after a movie night, and reader ends up having a wet dream with him.

peters wakes up spooning asleep reader while she’s quietly moaning and rubbing herself against him…….. BE CREATIVE I LOVE ALL YOUR CONTENT 💞💘💕💖💓💕💗💖💘

UHM YES?!?!

A:N- Sorry this took so long to get out, i wasn’t liking how dragged out it was so i had to edit a lot of this!! I hope you like it though🩷🤍🩷

Wet Dream 🔥

Peter Maximoff x fem!reader SMUT

Summary: Reader has quite the raunchy dream about Peter one night. Spoiler alert; he’s right there to see it 👀

Warnings: switch!Peter, slow burn, kissing, grinding, humping, oral sex(fem receiving), unprotected P in V, fingering, hand job, porn with plot, Peter comes like 3 times before p in v even happens.. THE WHOLE PACKAGE PEOPLE!!!

Word Count: 6914 (had to shorten it sos!!)

Taglist: @kaismanwich @evpeters87 (Let me know if you want to be added or removed!!)

After a long week at the mansion, softened by your regular visits to the record store with Peter, you were finally free for a long weekend with your best friend and you had decided to celebrate with a movie marathon in your dorm room.

A glance at your phone read 11:06 PM.

Your roommate, Jean, was bunking with Scott tonight; and you had grasped the opportunity for a several hour long marathon- complete with bowls of sugary snacks and two-litre bottles of soda.

“You ready?” you asked Peter as he stumbled into your living room with a variety of cake snacks in his grasp.

“Hol’ on-” he grumbled, brows furrowing in concentration as he dumped the plethora of cake snacks onto the coffee table in front of you.

Fwip.

Your eyes trained on your best friend, who was now in your kitchen jabbing numbers into your microwave.

You watch, amused, as Peter impatiently taps his foot against the tiles, closely observing the popcorn in the microwave rotate. With every pop of a kernel came Peter’s childish explosion mimic in response. Sighing, you lean back into your seat.

You were sitting on an old, yellow 70's style vintage leather couch. Its material was ripped in various places, allowing bits of white fluff to peak through the tears. These fissures in the leather scraped across your bare legs, leaving little red marks each time you moved.

Peter was the one to ‘buy’ the couch for you when you first moved into the mansion, arguing to your horrified self that the piece of furniture had ‘character and personality’ to it.

The couch was tatty and torn apart, but you couldn’t find yourself able to get rid of it, despite Charles’ frequent offers to replace it free of charge.

It was by no means comfortable, but you found that you were able to sit back and relax soon enough.

As you heard the finishing beep of the microwave and Peter’s elated exclamation of delight, you got up to rifle through a box of DvD’s, searching for the first movie of the night.

Peter, busy with squirting a sickly amount of caramel sauce on his popcorn, gave you a bit of time to get ahead and choose the movie before he could pipe in with something like E.T. You swore you could recite that film backwards from the sheer amount of times Peter forced you to watch it.

Kneeling in front of the cabinet you began to sift through your collection.

The shining? You cringed at the thought. Granted, you absolutely adored the film, but watching it with Peter was something you wouldn’t wish upon your worst enemy. You were jumpy enough without Peter’s sudden ‘BOO!’ yelled down your ear just before a scare.

Pretending to be scared and cuddling into your best friend was pretty nice though; that boy had enough body heat to put Lucifer to shame.

You grab a pile, rifling through them in quick succession. Ghostbusters? You had watched that last week. Grease? No one wants to see Peter’s Danny Zuko impression. E.T? Think again, motherfucker.

By the time Peter had proudly walked in with his creation, you had narrowed it down to 2 films. You turned to smile at him, and he flashed you a broad grin as he tossed a piece of popcorn into his mouth before appearing next to you.

Fwip.

The speedster peered over your shoulder at your movie picks and cocked a silver brow.

“Can’t we jus’ watch E.T?” Crunch.

You shudder. Whether it was due to the abominable mention of that ghastly excuse for a film, or the obnoxious chewing in your ear, you weren’t sure.

You gaped up at him. “Whaddaya mean? Carry on films are classics! Better than a film we’ve seen 12 times already.”

You weren't even lying.

“I dunno, it’s jus’ the same sex-crazed people recitin’ the same half-arsed scripts for 30 films straight. Don't even get me started on the laughin’ tracks, babe.”

You shoot up and point an accusing finger at his pajama-clad chest. “This film deserves way more respect than the utta bullshit you’re tryna spew!”

Peter presses his lips into a line to avoid a snicker, smirking knowingly at you and holding up a caramel coated finger to your own chest.

“One word. Emmannuelle.” Crunch.

You whine and Peter smirks at catching you out, raising his eyebrows and walking backwards onto the couch, licking his finger and closing his eyes to relish in the sugary goodness.

“That’s not fair!” Your voice raises a few octaves as you eye his adam’s apple in motion, before continuing to search through your stack, “There’s 30 films and you picked the worst rated one!”

“Princess, don’t hate the player, hate the game.” Peter responds nonchalantly, hand reaching into the popcorn bowl that he had already ingested three-quarters of. “Once yer’ve seen one, yer’ve seen them all, really.” He shrugged.

You couldn’t really fight his reasoning, instead settling with a short huff. Finally, after a quick eeny-meeny-miny-mo, you picked one of the films and popped the disc into the DVD-player.

“Buuut it is yer turn to choose. And i guess yer did sit through the last one.”

You turn to him. “‘Sit through’? I liked it!”

“Yer eyes were glazed over not even 10 minutes in!” Peter chuckled, “It’s alrigh’, babe. It’s not to everyone’s taste.” Crunch.

“Well atleast i’m not the one geekin’ out the whole way through!” You scoffed, plopping yourself on the couch and knocking knees with your bestfriend “You fuckin’ clapped when RD-23 came on the screen!”

“R2-D2.” He corrected under his breath, his unoccupied large hand moving to rest on your lower thigh.

Peter loooved Star wars and it clearly showed. In this moment he was adorned in a plain black t-shirt and stormtrooper pajama pants, of which hung deliciously on his hips, showing off his V-line which had you watering at the mouth. God, he had such a slutty waist.

He ‘bought’ you a matching pair like ‘all best buds do!’ except yours were little shorts and a smaller black t-shirt.

“We could just watch Revenge of The Sith instead yunno?” You offer, eyeing the slither of skin where his shirt had ridden up.

Peter shook his head, his soft silver locks moving with it. He was still hung up on when you “fainted” at the sight of Harrison Ford. You wouldn’t shut up about how good he looked for his age.

For his age? Pfft! He’s got nothin’ on a mutant with his slow-agin’ genetics!

Clicking play on the remote, you settle back into the cushions with an eager smile as you subconsciously snuggle into your best friend’s right side, easing him into a lying position.

You grin up at him and nuzzle your nose in his cheek. He tickled your side in response, making you erupt in small giggles at the feeling.

Peter happily grabbed another handful of popcorn as he watched the film, looking for a piece drizzled with extra caramel.

“Oi, not gonna share?” You jokingly pout, tugging on his wrist to take it out of the bowl.

Peter froze as he realized he had just grabbed the last of the popcorn.

Whenever you had movie nights in either of your dorms, Peter always fought you for the last of the popcorn. You always acted upset, but he knew you always saved the last bite for him.

He hadn’t thought twice, assuming you left it for him, but what if you were actually angry?

But when he tore his eyes from the comedy and peeked over at you, you were grinning teasingly at him. Peter relaxed, and threw the popcorn into his mouth. When he bit down, he winced as his tooth nearly cracked on an unpopped kernel. Curse that goddamn microwave.

“Serves you right!” You snort, sticking your tongue out at him and laughing at the speedsters' screwed up expression.

“Go ahead, princess, laugh at my pain!” Peter groaned, rolling the kernel around in his mouth until he had positioned it just right so he could spit it out at you.

You shriek as it catapults onto your cheek and bounced off somewhere in the sofa. You grab the decorative pillow you had been hugging and hit him over the head with all the strength you could muster.

When you aimed another blow to his chest, Peter caught it, and easily tugged it out of your unsuspecting grasp. You huff and lay down on the armrest, snatching a quilt laying over the back of the couch and smothering yourself with it.

Peter dove down into the back of the couch beside you and pulled the quilt over his legs, his sock-clad feet sticking out of the material and over the other side of the furniture.

His mood changed quickly: energetic and playful, and in mere moments, calm and collected.

It was helpful, sure, as he could match your energy easily and keep a conversation going.

But it’s not that great having to take over as tour guide for new students when their prior escort falls asleep whilst showcasing the professor’s english lectures. Or perhaps that was a fault of Charles’ monotonous presentations?

“Ready?” You ask, spreading the comforter over the two of you.

“Ready,” Peter affirmed with squinting eyes, and you chuckled at his tone. You knew how he took movie marathons, claiming it to be an ‘olympic sport’.

Clicking play on the remote, you settled back again, this time into his chest as he wraps a strong arm around your waist.

It still made your heart all fluttery when he did so, and you thanked the lords above you weren’t facing him, revealing your cheeks dusted with crimson.

Peter tilted his head. “What’s this one?”

“One’a my favourites.” You answered quietly.

By 20 minutes in, all soda bottles had been drained (courtesy of Peter) and abandoned in the middle of the coffee table. You had intertwined your legs with him, and Peter’s arm was now slung over your hips.

A yawn slipped past your lips, which you thought was a miracle that it had taken this long for your first sign of weariness, and your best friend glanced over at you with a knowing smile.

“I thought yer said that yer weren’t tired.” He teased, tongue in cheek.

“I never said that,” you yawned again, “I said I wanted to do movie night.”

“We can do this another time–”

“I wanna do this.” You placed your hand on his arm along your body to stop him from talking. “I’ll stay awake.”

Peter gave you another knowing look and you stared right back at him. After a few moments, he sighed and gave in.

“Alrigh’, alrigh’.” He put his hand up in mock defense. After a moment more of looking at your heavy blinks, he sighed softly. “Oh, c’mere.”

As if you weren’t already impossibly close, Peter slid his left arm under your body, moving you further towards him with a grunt and practically cradling you. You rest your head against his shoulder, melting into the familiar position with ease.

Anyone who walked in on you would think you were in your honeymoon phase, but you knew better than that. What you had didn’t need a label. You didn’t even know what label you could put on yourselves. But it didn’t matter. You were best buds. And that was enough for you.

You weren't entirely sure when you had closed your eyes. The movie was like white noise in the background, unintentionally lulling you off into sleep. You heard a soft chuckle and knew Peter had finally noticed that you hadn’t kept up your end of the bargain.

“Jus’ restin’ my eyes…” you mumbled as an excuse, yet failing to open them.

“Mhm.” Peter hummed, clearly unconvinced.

You were right on the cusp of conscious and unconscious, and right as you were about to topple over, you felt his lips on the top of your head. They lingered for 5, 10, 30 seconds. Your smile didn’t fade the entire time his lips were touching your head, nor did it fade when he moved away.

‘I wouldn’t mind if you kissed me in other places.’ You thought to yourself with a sigh.

You were aware of Peter shuffling to get comfortable and pressing into your side, lingering a light boop to your nose with his finger and observing your features as you teetered off the brink of consciousness.

——————————————————————————

Soft, supple lips fluttered down the side of your neck.

You smiled and squirmed at the pleasure brought on by the teeth that slowly scraped along your collar bone and gently nipped across the front of your throat.

The hot breaths that caressed your skin with each sensual kiss and nip set your blood on fire and forced moisture to pool between your legs.

Looking up, you saw twinkling chocolate brown eyes behind sections of silvery hair staring down at you. Your eyes widened with embarrassment when you realized who was on top of you, grinding into you slowly.

Peter ran his hand through your hair and placed a tender kiss on your forehead. He ran his lips down the sides of your crimson cheeks and down the front of your neck, biting the sensitive flesh where the neck and shoulders meet. You tilted your head to the side and sighed.

The speedster ferociously claimed your lips once again. He pressed himself between your legs and teased your center with a purposeful, slow grind. You moan, wrap your arms around him and rake your fingernails up and down his back, deep and hard enough to leave proof of the sinful pleasure building inside you.

Suddenly, Peter tore his puffed lips away from you. You gazed into his eyes and watched him smile a surprisingly effective seductive smile, nothing like the attempted smolders he had sent your way before. He slid down your body and stopped by your feet. He spread your legs wide before him.

"...Peter, what...?" you began, but your words caught in your throat.

Peter arched your leg over his shoulder and began to softly place deliberate kisses up your leg. Each graze of his wet lips scorched your skin and left a trail of endless fire burning in their wake.

You laid beneath Peter's touch, flushed and writhed in torturous pleasure. Bolts of what felt like lightning shot down your spine. Heavy pants escaped your body, chest heaving, as he kissed higher and ran his tongue along the inside of your thigh until he reached the apex of your trembling limbs.

“Peter.. Ngaah- wai-!”

Without warning, Peter latched onto your swollen clit and pulled it between his lips.

You arched off the sweat slicked couch and shoved your hands deep into his ruffled, untidy hair. You cried out and yanked his hair each time you felt him wrap his powerful tongue around your clit. The pleasure he built inside you was intoxicating and frankly, dangerous. You felt as if you might burst into heavenly fire.

Peter looked up at you through heavy lidded eyes. He gently removed your leg from his shoulder and slid up your body once more. He trailed kisses up your stomach and pinched a hard nipple between his fingers. You quietly moaned, silently hoping this would never stop.

Breathing heavily and licking his lips, Peter settled himself on top of you. He kissed your bare shoulder and ran his teeth up your throat as he did prior. He pressed a soft kiss behind your ear.

"Princess..." he whispered. You could feel hot breath caressing your neck.

You squirmed beneath him, reveling at the feel of his hardness pressed against your center. You felt his dick twitch when it came in contact with the slick dripping from your core.

"Babe..." soft moaning graced your ears. He tugged on your earlobe with his teeth.

He reached between your thighs. You bucked against his hand as you felt him slide his long finger inside you.

"C'mon," Peter begged, pleading for your sweet noises.

He slid in a second finger. You arched your back and moaned when his fingers began teasing the spot that would send you over the edge. He used his thumb to push down on your clit, vibrating it delicately. You closed your eyes as you threw your head against the rough couch, Peter wrapping his hot mouth around your swollen breast.

“..-up” You furrowed your brows at his inaudible whispers, mumbled against your supple skin.

“Wake up..” heh?

"C’mon. Wake up!"

Your eyes snapped open, alarmed and chest heaving. Your body was flushed, covered in sweat. Hair was plastered to the back of your neck and your hands were fisted in your lap. Sitting up onto your elbows, you look around the room with wide and confused eyes.

"Nice dream, princess?" Peter asked, cheeks flushed, yet smirking knowingly.

Oh. OH.

—--------------

Sharing a room with you was normal. It was. Peter knew that. Sure, it wasn’t exactly a thing that platonic friends would partake in, especially comfying up on the couch together, but whats the harm in it?

So okay, it wasn’t normal by definition. But he wasn’t going to make it weird . Just because he had a small crush on you did not mean that he would let it be weird. You were colleagues, Xmen, and you even spent time together outside of work too! Peter would come to your room to watch old movies, and you would go to his so you could cook and listen to music with him. So he knew he could spend time with you alone, that wasn’t the problem.

It was the sleeping that was potentially the issue.

His little crush had been invading his subconscious almost constantly nowadays, and peter was notoriously known to talk in his sleep. He was so scared he would say something wrong whilst snorin’ away next to you. If you overheard something like that, he knew your friendship would never recover. How can you act normal around someone who said your name in their sleep?

Good thing you did it before him then.

Peter was just doing his own thing, flicking through channels on the 70’s style television on low volume so as to not wake you. Dynasty, Seinfeld, Star Trek… not tonight.

He yelped quietly as Return of The Jedi appears on the screen, changing the channel in quick succession. You had yet to watch the film with him, and Peter didn’t want to ruin it for you by watching it beforehand.

He sighed, shoving the remote down the side of the sofa, nothing seeming to catch his attention.

Nothing, before you let out a low whimper and shuffle back into the heat of his chest.

“Babe?” Peter called quietly into the dark.

You were sleeping soundly, the muted reflection of light streaming in from the TV casting thin slivers of white across your face.

Peter rarely had the opportunity to watch you as you slept, normally being out like a light long before you and not waking up until hours into the afternoon, so he took a moment to indulge himself.

Your hair was an utter mess, with it falling into your forehead and sticking out from where it was smooshed against the pillow. Your lips were slightly parted and dry, and Peter shivered as he finally attuned himself to the soft whisper of your breath hitting his shoulder.

You were beautiful, and his heart clenched with adoration for you. This wasn’t at all what he had expected when he began his job with the Xmen, but he was not complaining in the slightest. Free food, permitted to use Charles’ credit card whenever he pleases, and a smokin’ hot, funny girl cuddling up to him every night; what's not to like?

On second thought, scratch the former two benefits. Peter was quickly banned from using Charles’ card, ever since he took advantage and bought enough cake snacks to put Hostess out of stock for three weeks. He had the best four hours of his life that night.

Peter sighed contentedly, and unthinkingly reached back to brush a few strands of hair from your forehead. Your hair was so soft and smooth and he wanted to run his fingers through it, but even the gentlest touch of him moving your hair from your face had stirred you.

Peter reluctantly curled up on his side with his stomach facing your own, in an attempt to bury his desire to keep touching you. You snuffled out a breath and shifted around, and Peter held his breath, hoping you would fall back to sleep. He was pleasantly surprised when you continued shuffling until your sleep-heated body came into contact, flush with his.

You exhaled deeply and nestled your face into Peter’s neck as his arm came up to drape across your hip. He smiled into his own pillow, pleased with this development, and he relaxed back into your embrace…

…And then nearly rolled out of it again when your pelvis brushed something between his hips. Holy fuck!

Peter immediately thrust his hips forward and away from your jutting, not wanting to take advantage of you in your sleep-induced state, but you grunted in dissatisfaction and thrust your hips closer to him until the burning heat through your shorts was trapped right against Peter’s length again.

As if just feeling that you were horny and dreaming about somethin’ naughty wasn’t enough, you then began to rock your hips into his. Fuckin’ hell!

“-agh-.. princess?” Peter whispered, panic-stricken, feeling his cheeks flame in a combination of embarrassment and excitement. He groaned as his dick twitched in interest in an attempt to reach your alluring heat.

You let out a soft sigh, and the rocking of your hips slowed. Peter wasn’t sure if he was grateful or disappointed, however he ultimately decided it was for the best; he’d rather you to be conscious if you were about to make a massive jump in your platonic relationship to physical.

Despite the already raging boner that was growing and painfully restricted by the confines of his stormtrooper pajamas, Peter let his eyes slip closed, content to cradle you in his arms and go back to sleep. However the solid pressure of your heat on his thigh kept the speedster wide awake.

Then you began moving again.

You pressed your pelvis forward, rubbing your clothed core onto the muscled thigh of Peter’s mid-thigh. Then, you let out a shuddering moan that made all of his wild fantasies about the way you sounded seem entirely tame in comparison.

Your hips were no longer rocking, but they were actively grinding and stuttering against him. Peter could feel the exact shape of your pussy through the scant layers of fabric separating you from him.

Your hand moved to curl around his bicep, firmly anchoring yourself to your best friend. You were breathing raggedly and the motion of your hips was getting faster and deeper, more sensual than ever.

Peter’s own noises failed to be kept silent, as he whimpered in response and rested his forehead into your hair as you frantically humped his thigh.

Jesus fuck, how were you still asleep? And what were you dreaming about that got you this riled up?

Even if he wanted to move, Peter was effectively trapped between your weight and the back of the couch, your motions making the old thing squeak and groan in answer.

Warm, wet heat throbbed between your legs, and Peter desperately wanted to flip you onto your back, rip off your tiny shorts, and fuck you until you both passed out from exhaustion.

You were making the most devastating noises as you rutted your heat against him harder and faster, whining in desire as you worked for your release.

Peter had half a mind to reach down and give you a hand, but he instead gripped on tight to the couch cushions, eyes wide and lips parted in astonishment.

Ohh, he shouldn’t be doing this, he shouldn’t be lying here, practically taking advantage of you whilst you rubbed yourself upon him. If you were awake you’d be mortified, ohh-, but you sound so good and feel so good and, really, it would be cruel to stop you. Especially when you were enjoying yourself sooo much…

Peter lay there for a few more moments, swallowing the lump in his throat and trying to ignore the burning want in his rock hard cock.

Then, you moaned something that had him spluttering in surprise .

“Nghnaa- Peterr,” you whimpered.

Peter came instantly, covering a guttural moan with his hand.

Holy. Fuck.

You were dreaming about him? Your best bud since forever?

You whined in pleasure as you felt the surge of heat from Peter’s load. Frantically, you arch your hips into his again, once, twice, three more times, before you let out a wrenching moan and stilled behind him.

Peter shivered as he felt his cock throbbing against your core, and as he felt a wet warmth seep through your pajamas and onto his clothed thigh.

Holy-

Peter panted harshly for a few moments as he stayed tightly pressed against you, large hands coming to grip on your arms. Him, really? Of all people you decided to get off to, you chose him! Frankly, he was flattered; and clearly so was his dick.

The fuckin’ thing seemed to have a mind of its own! The sticky, burning mess that had erupted in his Pj’s made him grimace uncomfortably, knowing it would soon dry into a crusty disaster. But the thing seemed to get hard and stay hard whenever he was around you. How embarrassin’!

A glance towards the clock; 12:43. Peter hummed, turning back towards you and lightly squeezing your arm. As you stirred he put on a lazy smirk, hoping the flaming blush in his cheeks had subsided enough by now.

As your eyes snapped open, disoriented, Peter propped himself up on his elbow and wiggled his eyebrows.

"Nice dream, princess?"

Ooh, he is gonna ruin you.

—-----------------------------

Trying to collect yourself after being awoken, your eyes landed on your best friend, inches away from your own face and wiggling his brows. For mere moments you were puzzled, wondering why his cheeks had more of a reddish tone than normal, then you came to a conclusion.

Oh fuck.

You nearly jumped out of your skin as you realized what you had done, placing a hand over your chest and taking a deep, panicked breath. It took a few pounding heartbeats to get the courage to look at Peter. You prayed your demeanor wouldn't give anything away.

"H-Huh?" You replied, braving a glance at him. Oh wow, real smooth.

"I asked, 'nice dream’?" Peter repeated, nonchalantly. His fingers tickled down your arm, only aiding in the nervous sweat that dripped down from your hairline.

"What makes you think that?" You stuttered.

"Well, yer were talkin’ quite a bit, babe. There was a moan a’ two thrown in there. Oh! And a 'Don't stop, Peter!' happened, too." He winked. “I must’ve given you a hella good time, princess.”

Ok sure, maybe he was exaggerating a little. But he reallyyy wanted to know exactly what happened in your dream..

Your cheeks flamed beyond recognition. You were fucked. Or rather, about to be.

"Hmm..." He looked at you with a piercing stare as a dimpled, wry grin split across his face. Before you could react, Peter laughed.

"Oi, shut up!" you giggled, slightly relieved at the humor that came out of this.

Your giggles came to an abrupt stop, however, as Peter shuffled impossible closer to you, his lengthy erection threatening to tear his pajamas. You fought with the Gods themselves not to look down, knowing the tent in the material would expose something you have thought of everytime you’d touch yourself.

A grumble erupted from Peter’s throat, his cocky facade crumbling away with every involuntary rut of your hips.

"How ‘bout yer show me what happened in yer dream?" he suggested, hand snaking around the small of your back as Peter sat up, pulling you into his lap.

You squeaked, nibbling your lip nervously. Peter pressed himself flush to you, his cock pressing against your pelvis angrily. A familiar aching tingle took up residence low in your belly, and you huffed out a shaky sigh as you pressed the ache closer to him.

“I’m gonna kiss you now.” He whispered, his breath fanning over your lips as he said it, albeit very shakily. Before you could even nod, his lips pressed to yours.

You instantly relaxed into his lap. Peter’s lips were soft and urgent, catching your bottom lip between them.

Your hands pulled him closer by the neck, and he let his hands mold against your waist, urging you closer. Your hands roamed into his hair, pushing it off his forehead and carding your fingers smoothly through it, causing him to let out a muffled moan into your mouth. You hummed.

Experimenting, you clumsily tugged at his silvery strands with fevor. With a whimper that had your walls clenching around air, Peter’s eyes rolled back in his head, and he let his hands drop to your ass.

He squeezed and pulled you down onto him, letting his lips find your neck. You let out a loud groan as he sucked a mark into your pulse point, but you pushed him away with both hands on his cheeks.

“Not above the collar,” You reminded meekly. He smirked at the idea of everyone on the team knowing what you had done. And everyone knowing that someone like you wanted to do this with someone like him. Take that, Scotty.

“But.. what if I want people to know yer mine?” Peter asked, pressing a quick kiss to your lobe as he said so, nibbling it carefully. You grinned.

“I think you’ve got this whole thing wrong then.”

“Hm?” You smiled as you felt Peter’s brows furrow against the side of your head.

“You belong to me.”

He whimpered. Your eyes lit up, and you simply smirked at him.

“Good boy.” You whispered, and pressed down hard with your hips, rolling them once.

Peter came in his pants. Again.

With a loud groan and a thrust upward, he shot into his pajamas. You chuckled through flushed cheeks as he shuddered through his orgasm, and leaned down to kiss him. As soon as he came down from the high, embarrassment overtook him.

He had a chance with his dream girl, and he literally blew it not five minutes in. Literally and figuratively. And all because you called him a Good boy?

Peter brought his hands up to cover his face, but you caught his wrists before he could reach. He closed his eyes and turned his face away, breathing heavily, not ready for the ridicule that was sure to follow.

“Awh, did I make you cum?” You rolled your hips a few times, and he hissed at the oversensitivity. “That’s so fuckin’ hot.”

“Yer- W-What?” Peter asked, turning back towards you slowly. You were beaming at him.

“The cutest boy, all worked up, jus’ for me.” You arched your back so your clothed tits were shoved closer to the poor boy’s face, yunno, just for good measure.

He blushed again, and swallowed as he grinned back at you. “But what ‘bout yer?”

“What about me?” You asked. Peter’s hands danced along your sides, cupping your breasts and teasing your nipples through your shirt.

“Wanna make yer feel good.” He whispered while you gasped.

“What’s stopping you?” You asked with a whisper. Peter surged upwards and began kissing you again, only stopping to finally rip your shirt off and get his hands on your bare breasts.

Peter’s tongue flicked against your own as you moaned against his lips, the feeling of him kneading your tits too much to bare.

“You’re so fuckin’ hot. Such a good, good boy.” You praised, stroking his hair.

He whines, playing with the hem of your shorts and his hips rut, seeking for friction. You take the hint, shimmying your pajamas down off your legs whilst helping Peter with his own.

You salivate at the sight of his lengthy cock, slapping up to hit his abs and glistening from the pearly white release running down it. Thick veins traveled upwards, buzzing from the speedster gene and throbbing with anticipation. His angry red tip leaked, twitching and begging for your warmth.

You use a hand to grip the base of your best friend's cock, his fluid running over your knuckles and providing you with a natural lube. Peter hissed with gritted teeth, watching as you slowly jerked him off with a tight embrace, circling the tip of his dick with your other hand.

“He-hey! Too much!” Peter yelped, bucking his hips up despite his protests.

You complied, stopping your actions briefly before sitting up, aligning your dripping wet entrance with his tip.

Schweeeett.

You laid a hesitant hand over his chest, and gooseflesh sizzled across his skin, sending another bolt of heat to his already overheated cock. He bit his lip to keep himself grounded and to keep from dropping his hand to his pants and rubbing himself to relive the pressure.

He felt so shaky and on edge and so, so horny.

Your lips pressed lightly against his, and while Peter’s brain seemed to short out, his body and his hormones knew exactly what to do and took over. He wrapped his arms around your shoulders, anchoring you to him as he flipped over so he was laying on top of you.

You made a breathy little noise, and Peter’s brain finally started up again.

“This okay?” he panted between the gentle little kisses he was peppering across her jaw.

“Almost,” you teased.

Before he could ask what you meant, you looped your leg around his Peter’s and tugged so that he was fully nestled in the cradle of your thighs. He groaned as he felt his aching erection settled against your heat.

He could feel the heat radiating out from your center, and Peter grew impossibly harder.

“Princess” he whimpered, rutting restlessly against you. “Please… fuck, yer feel so good…”

You arched up into him, grinding yourself equally as wantonly against him.

“So do you,” you hissed, tightening your hold around his hips for more leverage.

Your hands wandered aimlessly, but Peter was too lost in the feel of you beneath him, so soft and warm and beautiful. The pressure in his abdomen deepened until it almost hurt.

“I need… I want… Please, babe.. I’m gonna…”

He was well aware he was babbling, but his brain was a little more occupied by the delicious friction his cock was getting against your hot and damp center.

Peter tucked his face into your neck as he focused on the pleasure burning through him, soaring higher and higher until he could barely take it anymore.

You arched up hard against him as your fingers raked through his hair once more, and he was lost.

Deciding he had enough, Peter aligned himself with your entrance and slammed into your wet cunt with one thrust, eliciting a moan from you that threatened the coil in his lower stomach to snap already.

He kissed you once more, this time taking control as his tongue glided across your lips passionately, far from the blubbering mess you made him previously. The taste of caramel and sugar invaded your mouth, trickling down your throat with the same side effect as an aphrodisiac.

With every kiss Peter sped up his frantic motions, rendering you brainless on his dick as you could only focus on the slapping of skin and wet noises of your soaking pussy.

You were about to open your mouth to tell him to hurry up when Peter’s fingers reach between your folds, circling your clit with a steady pace. A loud, shuddering moan echoes around the room.

You don't even realize the noise came from yourself until you feel Peter’s shoulders move against your own because due to his cocky laughs. Airhead.

He was going so fast you couldn’t tell whether he was thrusting in or out, you could only feel an overwhelming pleasure consuming your mind and body.

Just when you thought you were on the brink of feeling the epitome of heaven itself, a buzzing vibration echoed deep within your walls, sending you into a frenzy.

You writhed and clawed at Peter’s back, a wordless plea for him to continue. Faster, Faster. Please.

He mumbled incoherently, which would’ve made you chuckle if you had the ability to do so, as his hips stuttered against your own, hitting a spot that had you clenching his buzzing cock like a vice.

With the remaining piece of consciousness you had left, you reached up to yank on Peter’s hair, forcing his head back as the building pleasure inside you exploded.

Peter let out a wordless cry as the hot coil of tension in his belly snapped, and white hot pleasure took its place.

He was dimly aware that you let out the most beautiful, sexy noise he’d ever heard as you tightened your hold around him, but he was more preoccupied by his cock filling you to the brim of cum that splattered your pulsing walls.

His skin prickled pleasantly, his ears ringing and his vision blurred, and he felt completely weightless. His vision darkened and he held you tight and panted his release into your neck.

“Shiiit,” he gasped, lifting his hips away from you as his cock softened and became too sensitive to be touched.

His arm muscles shook as he hoisted himself away from you, and collapsed onto the couch beside you.

Staring up at the ceiling, Peter let an exhausted grin cross his face as a few aftershocks rolled through him. Gaze shifted, He admired you as you came down from your high, moving to the bathroom to wash your hands and get a rag to clean yourselves up.

When you came back you went to wipe you down, but Peter took the rag from you.

“Sit. I get to take care of yer now. I owe it to yer, babe.” Concentrated, he wiped your dripping cunt with the rag, then making his way to the bathroom to get rid of the dirty towel.

When he came back you were still sitting on the edge of the bed. You smiled meekly up at him and reached out a hand, which Peter eagerly took, gladly letting you pull him in for a hug, with him standing between your knees.

“I really like you, you know.” You said, head resting on Peter’s chest as he stared down at you.

“I know. I really like yer too, babe.”

In answer, you shifted slightly and tilted your head up to face Peter’s flushed cheeks as he pressed a kiss to your nose. You couldn’t help but giggle softly, and you felt his smile as he pulled away. You could feel his breath as he moved to the side of your face, and placed a kiss on what you were sure was a very rosy apple of your cheek.

As you settled down together for the remaining hours of the night, the tense air between you and Peter had diminished, morphing into one of that had you giddy and excited.

You needed to bring out the movie nights more often.

~~~~

When morning rose and you walked into the briefing room the next morning, you were wearing a scarf, despite the hot Westchester heat. You hadn’t quite caught Peter in time, and he had in fact left a mark.

Of course the whole team noticed.

“Hey, twinkle toes, did you guys have another movie night?” Scott asked from his seat at the back of the room. Luckily Peter was facing away from him, so Scott didn’t see how his immediate reaction was to blanche at the memories from the night before. He gathered himself quickly.

“Yer, of course, what’s it to yer?” Peter asked shortly as he turned around, stirring a coffee with six sugars mixed into it.

Scott’s attention was on you, as you were talking to Kurt on the other side of the room.

“That scarf is only there to hide something, I think our lovely lady might’ve got some last night.” Scott said with a smug smirk. “Don’t let it break your heart, you still have a chance!” He turned to Peter and clapped him on the shoulder, who was blushing intensely at the tease. You had, in fact, ‘got some’, and he was the some you got with.

Scott soon noticed Peter was off, as normally he would be granted with some teasing retort or slap against the back of the head.

“C’mon, I’m just teasing. She probably didn’t get a chance to-” While he was talking, Peter caught your eye from across the room.

You smirked at him and waved, and he smiled and waved back.

Scott cut himself off when he saw Peter’s wave, turning to see just as your face turned back to Kurt. “Oh my god. You crazy man, you actually did it!” Scott exclaimed, shaking Peter by the shoulders. Peter pursed his lips to try and contain his smile as he nodded. “My man!” Scott exclaimed, pulling him into an awkward hug.

Peter caught your eye again over Scott’s shoulder, and the smile you gave him made him smile right back.

#peter maximoff #quicksilver #evan peters #xmen #evan peters masterlist #peter maximoff fluff #peter maximoff x y/n #peter maximoff x you #peter maximoff x reader #xmen peter maximoff #peter maximoff smut #evan peters x reader #evan peters headcannons

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boldlyvoid · 8 months

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Boldlyvoid fics set in the fall masterlist

Spencer Reid x reader:

Hypothetically -- 89k | reader and Spencer were friends in kindergarten, she watched him grow up and explore the world while she was still trying to catch up to him. now that they work together, they fall in love incredibly fast.

friends to lovers, case-of-the-week style story

State of Grace -- 26k | While trying to find herself after college, Y/N moves in with her aunt in D.C for a while. Falling in love with the city, her aunt’s job and the cute co-worker she’s heard so much about

Redamancy -- 5.4k | The co-op librarian at the FBI Academy has been secretly crushing on the smartest agent in the Bureau, TA, Doctor Spencer Reid, and he’s been crushing on her too.

New Romantics -- 23k | She needs help studying for her Case Exercises at the Academy, He needs a date for the annual Banquet… they just so happen to be neighbours who aren’t afraid to lend a helping hand, or in this case, a helping kiss.

Don't Let Me Go -- 6.4k | Reader comes home for her moms funeral and ends up falling for her dad’s co-worker

Red Alert -- 2.7K | For the 55th Anniversary of Star Trek (sep 8), the local bar is hosting a Pon Farr night…

Chip Taylor x Reader:

Forever is the Sweetest Con -- 6.2k | Reader’s dad is a carpenter; sometimes he takes on apprentices and sometimes, if they’re lucky, they get his daughter’s number at the end of their training. Chip Taylor, however, hits the jackpot when her father invites him over for one of her homecooked meals.

Spencer Reid stand-alone fic:

Found Family -- 3.4k | Henry’s best friend, Taylor, is struggling to take care of her mother’s schizophrenia, Spencer knows exactly how to help and it’s by getting her out of that environment while her mother gets help.

Halloween Fics:

Spencer Reid x reader:

Hallo-ween -- 4.1k | Reader has had a crush on him for the last 9 weeks of her semester, but on Halloween night she finally has the courage to walk up to him at the local bar and offer to go home with him

The Reidd Family -- 4k | For Spencer’s 40th birthday his wife and kids want to have a costume Halloween party

Raymond x Reader:

Alone Together -- 2.4k | Raymond moves into a haunted house and ends up sleeping with the ghost who lives there… only he doesn’t know that when you fuck a ghost you also become one.

Spector Spooktacular -- 1.6k | for their first anniversary, Raymond takes his girlfriend to a cemetery for a Halloween picnic… having dinner while giving the spirits a show

Franklin x Reader:

Trick or Treat -- 3.1k | Franklin and Reader are paired up for costume bowling as their costumes accidentally match. she’s a sexy cheerleader, and he’s a 70’s porn star… they spend most of the game teasing each other instead of trying to win

Chip Taylor x Reader

Rater R for Revenge -- 6.7k (murder tw) | Chip’s new neighbour doesn’t answer to her name… he remembers settling into a new town with a new name and no friends, so he helps her settle in. learning about her abusive husband, the reason she’s on the run and falling in love with her in the meantime. he loves her so much he can’t imagine someone ever hurting her and getting to live freely, so they plan to murder him.

Wes x Reader:

House Calls -- 2.5K | Wes asks his receptionist if she’s coming to the building’s Halloween party, letting it slip that he just wants to spend time with her outside of work.

#fics set in the fall masterlist #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #chip taylor #68 kill #raymond #suburban gothic

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deandoesthingstome · 1 month

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Exactly What His Heart Meant

Pairing: Pornstar!August Walker x Pornstar!Reader

Summary: August Walker has wanted you forever. You want him, too. It's perfect.

Word Count: 7.4K

Warnings: This is Pornstar!AU, okay? 18+ ONLY Drug and alcohol use, mentions of a three-way, generic anal, bad business practices, oral sex (F & M receiving), vaginal fingering, anal fingering, P in V missionary and doggy style, sex toys, pegging (gasp - yes I'm going there), aftercare. Love.

A/N: I am nervous, okay? This is not your average everyday August Walker, but I love him and I hope you do too. I have been wanting to do this since forever. I've posted a few blurbs in WIP tag games here and here. I gushed about the song that kicked the whole thing into high gear and the fic title is taken from "Do Ya Think I'm Sexy?" - Rod Stewart. Both songs can be found on the playlist.

Bonus points if you can find the nods to other HC characters. There is definitely one, maybe two or three if you squint hard. (These points don't get you anything, sorry.)

Playlist: Listen to the music of the night on Spotify here.

Header and dividers by me.

August owned his entrance like no other. The studio made sure to send a PA ahead to prep the DJ and once he heard the first strains of “Night Fever” spill out of the club, he stepped out of the shadows and headed to the entrance, ready to start his decent down into the lights and glitter and debauchery as soon as Here I am sounded through the speakers and a spotlight made its way to him.

The already celebratory crowd went wild as he struck the iconic pose and thrust his hips in time to the rhythm. He couldn’t wipe the smile off his face if he tried, no matter how he had protested his employer’s choice for him. He would have sworn on any stack of bibles he didn’t like disco and abhorred polyester, yet here he was gyrating away. First time for everything. Starting with enjoying this awards night and after-party.

Each one prior had a story already attached to it from the beginning of the night, starting with his inaugural ceremony and guaranteed newcomer award, and trailing through the end of every relationship he thought would be the one. He finally stopped assuming because they said yes to the event after a few months or more of dating, that meant they were saying yes to him forever. The next few years were brutal and lonely, not that he couldn’t find some starfucker to take home at the end of the night, but that wasn’t what he craved.

Tonight was Club Retro themed. Award ceremony glamor as usual, but a costume change was required somewhere on the way from the venue to the after-party if you wanted to really up your game. Arrive in club gear of whichever era you wanted, but arrive dressed to impress nonetheless. He wasn’t the only actor a studio had convinced to go for the Travolta look, but he was probably the most surprised to find himself exhilarated by it and the attention it received. He kept all three pieces of the white suit, but he ditched the dark blue shirt altogether. Maybe he didn’t have a full head of hair, but the ‘stache and chest hair on display held 70’s swagger and he was running with it.

He grabbed a glass of champagne from one tray and a pill from another and set off into the crowd in search of the rest of his crew. He caught glimpses of the fresh-faced sweetheart who’d just inked a new deal grinding on the studio’s number two out on the dance floor and knew his plan to link them up had worked. The fans would eat them up, he knew it.

Knew it better than the owner, who wanted August to break her in. Ethan had begun making some really bad casting and scripting decisions and August was glad his contract was coming to an end. He was starting to feel like he wanted to just blow the whole studio up, let loose with all the bullshit he knew about his boss and how he ran his business. The industry could be awful, plenty of horror stories, but August had initially thought he’d found a place to call home.

What he’d begun to uncover about Ethan Hunt could fill a manifesto that would take the place down. And as crazy as it sounded, though he was tired of breaking in new talent, he wasn’t ready to be the reason all his friends lost their jobs. Not everyone was in a position to land on their feet. Regardless, at least now, with the sweetheart and the roughneck on a solid trajectory he wouldn’t be in the middle of something if tonight panned out the way he hoped.

Though, to be honest, it wasn’t looking good. He’d found his crew and then scanned the room for her with no luck.

“She hasn’t shown up yet,” his agent purred in his ear. Kelis was always down to party whenever he had an itch no one else would scratch, and he appreciated how decidedly non-attached she always was. No clingy phone calls or pouting over non-existing anniversaries. It aggravated him, though, that she was looking to seduce him here, tonight of all nights. Especially because she knew where his mind would likely be, but it didn’t stop her from begging for his cock every now and then. He could tell she’d gotten the hint his look gave by the way she toned it way down to answer his next question.

“A few from her studio have shown up but she wasn’t with them and they wouldn’t tell me where she was. It was all very secretive. So at least let me have my way with you on the dance floor if you won’t take me home tonight. Please?”

He relented and found himself having the time of his life. Song after song flew by as he grabbed water then whisky, a line, then water, another line, then whisky, water, whiskey, whisky, water. Dancing with Kelis gave him a chance to forget about his frustration with his studio and everyone, here or not, for the moment. He let himself be free and felt a weightlessness he hadn’t in a long time. No call sheets waiting at home. No scenes to prep. No “scripts” to read. Tonight and the next two weeks were his and his alone. Time for some decisions.

He noticed the crowd had begun to thin, and realized he wanted some fresh air, so he peeled himself away from Kelis with a promise-to-return kiss and tap on the ass. He took the elevator to the rooftop bar and found himself a little amazed at the streaks of light just beginning to emerge in the distance. Time had really flown while he was having fun.

He was about to head towards the drinks when he spotted her leaning against the railing in the opposite direction. The white-golden hair flowing behind her was an obvious wig. He’d seen her step to the stage to accept multiple awards tonight (or is it last night now?) and she had looked just as gorgeous with her natural color as she did all done up in her Farrah waves now. An unexpected jolt of excitement coursed through his veins as he realized she’d also opted for a 70’s look, complete with a scandalously (though by whose standards?) short metallic silver skirt with slits on either side and what he assumed was a matching top, though with her back to him as she peered out over the awakening city, all he really saw where the two thin silver chains that criss-crossed across her back. They looked like they would hold nothing up.

But she was alone and he knew it was now or never, so he strolled around the roof-top pool to step up beside her.

"I’m glad I finally found you. I wanted to congratulate you. It's not often a producer gets awards for both behind and front of camera work," he opened.

She turned her head and beamed a dazzling smile in return before thanking him and offering her own congratulations along with her hand and then a surprisingly friendly hello hug.

“I saw you nailed Best Male Performer and Best Anal again. Your Missionary: Impossible series was a true stroke of genius. I wish I had thought of it first.”

“So she’s not immune,” August thought as he peeled himself away from her warm body. “She remembers my name.” At least she recognized his star status. Maybe she hadn’t forgotten him. He pressed his lips to the back of her hand and trained his eyes on her through his lashes.

“You know I’d love to have you join the cast,” he spoke as he finished the hello hand kiss and lifted his head to gaze directly at her. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen eyes that scream ‘spy’ quite as much as yours do.”

“And I don’t think I’ve ever heard of a producer acting for another studio. You’ve got balls to ask, that’s for sure,” she laughed, tossing back the rest of her whisky before grabbing another off the tray passing by.

“Where’ve you been all night? I tried to find you right after the ceremony, but you disappeared and I had to run for a wardrobe change.” August tossed a casual grin and motioned at the cheesiness of his costume, though inside he was kicking himself.

The point of engaging wasn’t to offer her a part. How ridiculous! He’d been doing that for months now and she wasn’t biting. No. Tonight he was going to get answers. Why had she consistently denied him another shot with her? It had to be more than just the technicalities of trying to untangle ownership and percentages filming another studio’s producer would bring. She broke into his train of thought with an explanation of her quick and sudden departure from the award banquet and why she hadn’t arrived at the after party locale for what had to be at least a few hours.

“Already prepping material for next year. We had a newcomer attend with the studio tonight. He’s an absolute stud. Looking to get his name out there so we filmed his first scene backstage.”

August’s hopeful heart sank a little. He couldn’t expect her not to keep putting out material just because his advances might finally be successful, but it would take all his cool charm and guile to woo her if she was already cock-drunk tonight. He put out another feeler.

“You look well put back together already,” he commented, eyes tracing her figure with obvious intent.

“Oh not me. No, I was directing. Looking to nab that ‘behind the scene newcomer’ award next year,” she beamed, her smile still welcoming. “No, Mikey did a little gonzo three-way for his first official movie with Darkk Angel. We’re releasing it next week after a quick trip to post and then have him lined up for three more scenes next month. I’m wondering if we can talk AVN into a “most prolific” award.” Her laughter was infectious and he found himself with a wide grin, verging on goofy in spite of his aim.

“You’ve never directed? How have I missed that?” August sought to focus attention away from whoever this Mikey kid was and back on her completely, then mentally kicked himself again for admitting something that could only make him look desperate and maybe a little creepy. From his statement, and along with all the official asks from his agent, she had to think he was a stalker, completely obsessed with her.

Not that he wasn’t. Not since that very first time. Her “first’ anal scene. He understood she had to be a little overwhelmed at that shoot with so many people on set. She had clearly already fucked the director (for a scene) and was now just taking on a few actors who were already on a rise. It was his last commitment to the old studio and then he was off to a new contract with Hunt. God, he wished he could have taken her with him. As it was, the only thing he kept was her scent that lingered not long enough.

"You know, I've asked my agent about another scene with you more times than any other actor. He never has a good enough reason to tell me no. What gives?" August inquired.

She debated telling him the truth. That she was completely enamored of him despite, only having met once, and afraid to ruin her own fantasy. Yes, she thought about him often. She’d be lying if she said otherwise.

But what if he refused her counter-offers? What if he didn't play the way she had come to discover she wanted sometimes, needed even?

She could accept if his big dick in her pussy or ass was all he'd agree to again for one scene. But she wanted more. More than a scene. More than a spectacle.

"Industry's hottest stars finally fucking again!" she imagined the trade headlines would scream, not bothering to temper her own ego about her status.

And which studio got the rights? His or hers? Of course she would never give up the rights to those shots, those stills, that video. It had been years since any studio other than the one she owned had any rights to any images of her. Why August Walker didn't make the same professional move she had was beyond her, but at least she could play the upper hand if it came down to it. It was power to own the rights to your own material and that power trumped his studio contracts. Or at least she'd make that case. Plus Ethan Hunt was a little bitch and she’d be damned if she contributed to his profits in any way.

Still, she couldn’t get past the concern that having his big dick in her ass again would ruin her for anyone else ever again. It wasn't the size. Hell, she'd had two almost equal to him in there just the other day.

No. It was the fantasy. Not only what she already knew of his prowess, though if she’d improved over time, and she knew she had, he had to have gotten better too. But also what she imagined she knew based on the stories she'd heard. Stories about his true personality as well as the image she made up in her head based on tidbits of their past and innuendos of his present.

On set, she'd heard he’d become a bit of a prick. Even worse when the storyline called for Daddy. Not that it didn't make her wet to watch. And daydream about. Calling him Daddy, mmmm.

Except that wasn't her. Not her kink. Not her need. Not really.

And off set? Well, lips are usually loose in the industry, but somehow very few factual stories about dating August Walker were out there. Most of what she'd heard was easily dispelled rumor.

No, he wasn't into animal play. Either kind. Good.

No, he didn't force his partners to sleep in separate rooms after finishing. Why would someone even start that rumor? To what end?

Her private private detective had tracked down the source and verified quickly. It was a little bit of column a, a little bit of column b. The studio was looking to cash in on the mystery and intrigue of their dashing playboy, and a jilted date wanted more. Who wouldn't want more of him? But that choice was self-sabotaging to say the least.

She was well aware that some women, and men for that matter, liked to imagine their favorite actor to be the world's largest asshole. No, not that way.

That was the way she liked to imagine him. And the basis for her declination. He'd never say yes. She was sure of it.

And yet here he was. Blushing at the mere mention. Maybe she should have countered with that when he first started seeking her out. But she hadn't been ready to give up the rush she felt every time a message from Hunt Club studios appeared in her inbox.

August felt the heat rise in his cheeks and knew someone out there would say he was blushing, but August Walker does not blush.

As she leaned in, he swiped another surreptitious peek at her gorgeous and barely covered tits, though he was so smooth no one could have seen this time. Not that it mattered. He was right about the thin silver chains holding onto barely anything up front. Where she found tissue paper thin metallic material, he had no idea but her nipples showed through what little fabric there was making up the plunging neckline of the deep-vee tank, as if they weren’t also practically peeking out of the top as it was. She had them on display for a reason. But he was trying to make a move here. Trying to differentiate himself from the rest of the industry players and hangers-on hoping for a hook-up after the awards.

Champagne and liquor had flowed all night, powder cut, pills popped. He was tipsy but it was really the sunrise inching its way into the sky behind her, here on this rooftop bar next to the pool full of drunken, naked bodies, and the angelic halo circling the crown of her head that had him staring back into her eyes in no time, enraptured. Well, that and her reply.

“I have certain … desires that I’m not convinced you’d be amenable to and I didn’t want to alienate you.”

He went on to ask, no - insist, she explained her terms, right here right now. And she obliged, clarifying that she didn’t intend to be filmed at all. That her interest in climbing into bed with him was related only to the burning desire she’d felt to track him down, beg him for more, practically every day since that shoot. And the thing that convinced her not to bother was the never ending stream of talent she’d seen draped around him months, years later.

But she wouldn’t, couldn’t deny that she wanted him. Wanted to relive that moment and then build on it. Take the scene farther than was written. Fuck him right off the page and into her life forever. It was indescribable the way he felt listening to her narrate her desire to own him. She was only mentioning the bedroom, but he got the feeling she meant the heart as well.

Still, she was being mysterious with the details, so August began to mention specifics. What he wouldn’t do.

"I won't lick your boots," he'd said with a grin after a shorter than expected list, still wavering on if he actually meant to convey the opposite.

"Maybe not," she replied before leaning in and whispering in his ear as he tilted down to meet her. It was clear from her next sentence that she’d finally figured out he’d say yes. He was practically begging for it right here in front of these few end-of-the evening stragglers. "But you will take every inch of me."

Negotiations had already begun and this was just ink on the dotted line. Along with a string of consent questions with compatible answers and now she knew his safeword and he knew hers. It wasn’t what it used to be. Because things can change. But not his desire for her.

He brushed past her non-binding handshake and drew her in for a confirmation kiss, hands gently pulling her waist towards him. “You still smell the same. It drives me crazy,” he admitted before pressing his lips to hers with a smile. Then he broke the kiss, which had begun to turn lascivious even for the nature of the event, afraid they’d never make it off the roof-top if he didn’t.

He gave a deceptively shy smile and knowing nod to Kelis as he passed her on his way out with the true object of his desire draped along his arm.

She sent her limo off with whatever crew was left at the party before climbing into the back of his. They had no sooner pulled away from the curb and begun to make their way to his hi-rise apartment building than the driver’s shield went up and she went down, unzipping his trousers and slipping her hand in to coax him out.

She had gotten incredibly better at sucking dick in these interim years. But it was like she was finally home. Like her mouth opened magically around him to hold him close and taste his skin. It took everything in his power not to blow his load down her throat in the car. He wanted to be in her pussy when he came and there wasn’t much he wanted more at this moment.

He managed to pull her off and get her back on the seat, legs spread and ready to take his shoulders as he slipped his tongue deep inside her core. Moving the floss she’d bothered to pull on out of his way wasn’t hard in the least. He had her screaming by the time the limo pulled up outside his building.

August draped his suit jacket over her shoulders before he helped her out of the car and into the lobby. When the elevator doors closed around them, she turned and pressed him back into the wall, staring up at him with hunger and power equally.

“That’s the last time you call the shots tonight. I’m taking my shoes off as soon as we walk in your door, so you can’t accuse me of asking you to lick my boots. But you will be on your knees and you will put your mouth back on my pussy and do that one more time before anything else happens tonight. Understood?”

He stared down at her with amusement that morphed into understanding that ended in solemnity before the ding at his floor broke the silence.

“Yes ma’am,” he finally replied, resigned to her whim. He opened the lock with practiced ease, nothing shaking out of fear but only vibrating with anticipation. How had he missed her meaning all those years ago?

“I wish I could show you how this feels,” she’d whispered in his ear as he held her chest tight against his. “But it’s nothing compared to how it feels from behind.”

At the time he thought she had meant for him to turn her around, still on top of him but back to chest. So he did. And she liked it. She came like a banshee and that squeeze is something they can’t fake. That’s what wins the awards anyway. The audience knows it’s acting, but when they can tell it’s something the actor actually wants, when the chemistry is kinetic, the high is so much higher.

Clearly she’d had so much more in mind. When she came back down, he made sure to check the front door lock before he turned back to scoop her quivering body into his arms and carry her down the hall to his bedroom.

“Don’t think I’m anywhere near done with you just because I’m a wreck right now,” she called to him as he set her onto his bed. “Where are you going?”

“I would never think you’d consider that enough for an evening. I want to freshen up, if you don’t mind. May I?” August quirked an eyebrow awaiting her response and it was clear he’d come right back to the bed if she forbade it. No questions asked. But she allowed it and that only made him ache for her more. He’d be quick.

“Damn right you will!” she called out after him before ridding herself of her own garments.

Her hand must have found its way to the soaking mess between her legs and this is how August found her when he stepped out of the bathroom a very short while later, rubbing a towel over his head after peeling it off his body. He watched her luxuriate in the slippery slide feel of her fingers dipping in and out, rubbing, pinching, pumping, pumping, pumping.

He dipped carefully onto the bed. He had no desire to startle her out of her joy, he only wanted to witness it up close. He crawled alongside her and watched as her chest heaves softened and listened as her sighs became longer. When she finally opened her eyes on a deep inhale, he smiled at her.

“May I join you?” So respectful.

“Kiss me,” she commanded, and while he heeded she lifted his arm and guided his hand between her legs. “And touch me,” she whispered into his mouth.

He obeyed. His fingers drifted through her folds and made use of the slick that remained to press up into her. One, two, one, two. And now three. And now she’s grinding up against his hand and breaking the kiss to demand more and he’s giving it to her but it’s not enough, is it?

“More,” she cried out. “Fuck me, August.”

He was grateful at that moment for two revelations from the rooftop. He already knew his own status, testing often despite Hunt’s lackadaisical studio regulations. But she had shared that her studio adopted the standard of routine and regular testing early on and therefore she knew exactly what her status was, too. And, coupled with the fact that she had the implant, she had no qualms going bare. All these things led to the next thing he was grateful for and that was the feel of her pussy wrapped all the way around him as he slipped his prodigious cock deep inside her.

He mused he could do this all night. Or rather all day and into the night, when the moon began to rise again. Because it wasn’t night at all. It was broad daylight now and it was streaming in through the mirrored windows. Nobody could see it, even if they did find themselves on level with the height of his apartment. But no curtains meant he could see the way the sunlight brightened her face and it made him want to see all of her.

“Will you take it off, too?” he asked, staring down at her while he pistoned his hips into hers and felt her open and warm around him. “Please?”

He wasn’t used to begging. As much as he wasn’t a blusher, he definitely wasn’t a beggar but he found himself wanting to do anything for her and she wanted him to beg. Or at least ask nicely. And he wanted to obey. For the first time, maybe ever, August Walker wasn’t in charge.

She obliged and pulled the wig off easily. It wasn’t even pinned on, there was so much bang to cover the cap. All that meant was she was able to free her natural hair with ease and he was thankful. Now she lay bare before him and he got to take a good long, up close and personal look before she took it all away.

Faster than he would have preferred she slipped back and eased him out, but turned just as quickly to take him in her mouth. August let his eyes fall closed while he relished the feeling of her mouth around his cock again, but just when it started feeling really good, it also started feeling too good. If she continued he was going to come and he really meant it when he decided he wanted to be inside her for that. And not her mouth.

“Please,” it was practically a whisper. She almost hadn’t heard. But she let go with a pop and asked.

“What was that?”

“Please,” he begged again, raspy but with sound this time, voice hitching as she took him back in her mouth for just the briefest of sucks.

“What are you asking for?”

When he pleaded again with a cracked voice, she smiled as she let go.

“What is it, August? Huh? What do you want? Or not want?”

“Please…please don’t.” he stuttered as she continued to toy with him. Dick in and then out of his mouth with no concern for his predicament.

“Say it, August. Ask nicely.”

“Don’t make me come,” he begged, even as she sank to wrap her lips around him once more. “Please.”

“If that’s what you want. You only have to ask. Nicely.” She was so proud of him and he could feel that. Could tell she’d do anything for him. And let him do anything for her.

“Let me fuck you,” he asked. “Please. Just ….”

“Don’t bother saying it, you and I both know 5 minutes turns into 20 in no time,’ she laughed with him as she lay back with her legs spread wide for him. He stayed kneeling between her legs and watched her face explode with pleasure as he rocked deep and strong inside of her. He wasn’t trying to overcome her, wasn’t looking to establish any kind of dominance. Not on purpose at least. Because the fact of the matter was, that no matter how much he wanted to let her be in charge, it just came so naturally to him. It was hard to drop that mantle. Especially while fucking into her and watching her fall apart around him.

Then she shook her head and through sheer will, dragged herself back from the precipice to snake an arm up his chest, fingers drifting to his neck and drawing him down against her.

“Kiss me again, August,” she commanded and he obliged with no hesitation. It wasn’t that he couldn’t resist and instead put her right back in the trance his cock had caused, but he didn’t want to. They’d agreed on this night. Agreed what it would mean. He was finally getting what he’d craved all these years. And so was she.

Their tongues tangled while his fingertips traveled over velvety skin, her legs wrapped around hips, his thick member pistoned in and out of her wet and slippery cunt that she controlled so well. She hadn’t been wrong. August imagined he could stay like this forever if she’d let him, drowning in her glory, ego stroked with every gasp and whimper and cry of hers. It was music to his ears. He’d heard enough fake moans and pants over the years to know what the real thing sounded like and he never wanted to give it up.

When he felt her squeeze tight around him for the second time, he began to slow, sure that more than twenty minutes had passed but completely uninterested in confirming his suspicion. No, he wanted her on her knees again.

“Can I have you from behind?” he murmured in her ear after kissing his way along her cheek and neck. “Just for 5 minutes.”

She could feel his grin, but before she could compose an appropriate response, he’d shifted, changed tempo and hit a different spot that had her howling and fighting the urge to beg him for more. Even then brief respite she’d have while they switched positions should allow her to gather her wits and tamp down her desire to just let him rail her into the next day. Because tonight was for something more. So she pushed him back away from her, flipped and pulled herself to all fours while crawling towards the center of the bed.

With a seductive glance over her shoulder, she called to him, “Come and get it, stud.”

Five minutes in heaven. That’s all she was going to allow him. She pressed her chest down into the bed and let him drag her hips into the air, flesh captured under his strong fingers. She screamed into the sheets as August directed her pleasure with practiced skill and just when she felt she couldn’t hold on any longer, he slipped a saliva-coated thumb into her ass and sent her reeling. He’d timed it perfectly.

“You’re done,” she fought through her haze to flip to her back and clarify. “We still have a deal, right?”

She watched him stroking himself lazy and slow to stay hard while his eyes blinked shut with relief almost involuntarily.

“Yes,” he replied, his exhale full of yearning. “Will you show me?”

“Show you what, August? Hmm?” she asked with a tilt of her head, pleased he was finally ready to give in to what he’d already agreed to back on that rooftop.

“Show me how it feels.” It wasn’t a question, yet still not a command. He’d never dare to command her. Not until she was ready for him to. And that wasn’t tonight.

“I’ve been waiting for you to ask me that since we met.”

All those years. All that time. August closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and told himself it’s fine. It’ll be fine. He pulled back a bit from the ledge that he wanted to step over for missing her meaning all along. As if she could read his mind, she spoke from somewhere that felt like a dream.

“I’m glad you waited though. I wasn’t ready either. I was trying to get over my nerves and thought a little brazen tease directed at the top talent on set would help. But I’ve discovered I really do like sharing that experience, knowing I can make a man feel the way he makes me feel. Make him understand how much better it is when it's from someone who cares."

When he opened his eyes, she was pulling herself up to her knees to meet him. He felt her hands trace along his chest as she pressed her lips to his. It was almost sweet, but definitely a relief. She really did want this as much as he did.

For a mini-eternity, they let their tongues tangle and hands roam. August shivered as her nails traced down his back with the perfect dig and smiled into her lips as he thought about the red lines he’d be left with the next day. He cradled the nape of her neck as even on knees he towered over her and let a hand drift down the soft skin of her side and around her waist to cup her ass.

When her hands finally landed in the same spot on him, he felt another layer of tension release as she caressed and squeezed each cheek with passion. She broke the kiss and nuzzled down his chest, landing on her elbows before him. With eagerness, she took hold of his still invigorated member, gave a few soft strokes, and then put him back in her warm, wet, inviting mouth.

But this blowjob had an ulterior motive that August felt as soon as it turned sloppy and her saliva began to drip and pool around him. With a now slick hand, she slipped her fingers off the base of his cock and in between his legs, tracing past the waxed-bare skin off his balls and teasing his entrance.

She circled and smoothed and kneaded until he finally felt a finger ease past the first ring of muscle and he had to put a hand on her head to slow the bob that was already threatening to pull his orgasm too soon. Surely she didn’t want that, did she?

August dropped his head back with a groan of pleasure as she let her spit drop onto her fingers again before pressing a second digit inside, just beginning to open him up to all her possibilities. It already felt so, so good. If this was all she did for him, it was worth it, but not really what he wanted. He’d had a few other lovers tease him like this, but he always stopped them short, still too nervous to let them go all the way to where he needed.

He’d kept this part of himself secret, shared it with no one, tested it only when alone. He knew it was stupid to hide this craving, especially given how exposed he allowed himself to be on film. But this was something different. Something personal. Private. That’s what he told himself. And he let his stature in the industry dictate the type of man he was in a bedroom, with a woman but without the cameras, for far too long.

His head was spinning as her tongue licked his length and her fingers teased and touched. She was pressing and pushing deeper and when she finally found his spot it took every ounce of willpower to maintain composure. He still wanted more of her, still didn’t want to come yet.

It dawned on him then that she hadn’t brought an overnight bag with change of clothes for the morning or toys for the evening. Just her ridiculously sexy wisp of an outfit and a tiny clutch that couldn’t have hidden even a bottle of lube, let alone the tool she needed to fulfill their bargain. She’d promised him he’d take every inch of her. Could she really have meant only this? Was she expecting him to come as she beckoned inside him?

“I can hear your thoughts, August” she purred up at him with a smile, mouth off his dick, but fingers still toying with him. “I don’t want to stop here either. I’m sure you can help me out, can’t you?”

She felt him tense and knew he was weighing the pros and cons of admitting what she had guessed when he agreed to take her home immediately without offering to make a stop along the way. August had his own equipment. No doubt about it.

“It’s okay,” she soothed, removing her fingers completely and returning to her knees to kiss him hard and deep before speaking to him on his level. “You don’t have to hide anymore. Show me what you need.”

She watched the seas of his eyes storm with fear before settling into calm as she held his gaze with no judgment, no mockery. She kissed him again, licked into the space between his lips and felt the passion as he held her tight, almost holding on for his life while he kissed her back.

When he finally broke free, he stepped back off the bed and opened the nightstand to remove a bottle of lube before he moved across the room to a mirrored armoire. He opened the doors and removed a sleek, black box which he brought back to place slowly on the nightstand, clearly deep in thought. And then he hesitated, hands resting on the lid of the box, head down.

“I don’t…” he started, and she felt a small ache in her heart. She had never seen him so vulnerable. Not that she spent much time alone with him at all, but this was truly a side she hadn’t quite expected after everything she knew about him.

“We can take our time, August,” she spoke with a careful tone and no desire to spook him. He remained still and she felt reassured he wasn’t running, not in his mind or his body. When he spoke, she had to stifle a small laugh for fear she would send him running from misplaced shame.

“I only mean, I don’t have a harness for you.” He turned, fingertips of only one hand still on the closed box, eyes scanning hers for understanding. And she understood completely.

She moved closer to the edge of the bed and grinned at him. “Oh, August. Oh baby, this is what has you worried? You think I can’t make it good for you if I’m not wearing it?” She watched this new layer of tension begin to melt away as he registered her words. “August Walker, I meant what I said and I can’t wait to fuck you however I can. And believe me, I know how to make it good.”

She waited for him to relax, to speak, to return to his usual manner and let her back in. Then she took a calculated breath, dropped the timbre of her voice, and called to him.

“And you’re going to let me, aren’t you August?”

Her eyes dropped just in time to see the twitch in his still hard-cock and she knew he was back and ready to let her have him. He flipped the lid to the lacquer box with one finger and revealed a small treasure trove of devices, any of which she’d be thrilled to treat him with. With no idea how prepared he really was, she let him choose.

“Will you start with this?” August handed her not the smallest, but not the largest either and she accepted willingly. “It’s been a minute.”

With complete understanding she led him back into bed on his knees before grabbing the lube from the nightstand and setting about her business. Kisses first. Deep and hungry. She wanted his tongue down her throat and he obliged while she held the dildo and lube in one hand and stroked his rock hard cock with the other.

Before too long, she’d dropped the toy to the bed and flipped the lid to the tube, using proprioception to drop several dollops onto her open hand before reaching between his spread legs while still commanding his kiss. Her fingers smoothed the viscous fluid over his entrance and dipped a little in with a finger before she reached for the prosthetic and smeared the rest around the tip and down the base.

Her lips left his reluctantly as she ordered him to hands and knees while she maneuvered behind him. With practiced skill, she massaged and manipulated her fingers inside him once more, listening for the moans and groans that told her he was ready for her to place the tip alongside a finger and ease the toy inside. She watched him carefully, moving slowly and waiting for him to relax fully before she slipped the whole thing in and he took it with the sweetest grunt.

“You’re doing so good for me, August. Just like I knew you would. Does it feel good?” she questioned, while gently pulling and pushing, twisting and pressing, smiling when he answered in the affirmative. With each motion she listened for the sounds that would tell her where and how it felt best and she was quick to learn his needs.

“Fuck…just like that,” he begged and hitched back into her, already wanting more.

“Impatient,” she teased lightly as she shifted to the side so she could both lean over to capture his lips again and still work the toy in and out of his slowly writhing body. She kept him wanting, shifting the speed and direction, for as long as he could last before he finally begged for the real thing.

She left him face down and ass up while she switched gear, careful to add more lube to both him and the larger phallus. But when she was ready to finally give him what he wanted, she paused for just a moment to consider orientation. She was certain positioning him to face the mirror would be too much for this first time together, but there would be others, she was sure now.

Other times to see the exquisite pain she knew would soon drip down his face as she wielded the apparatus and gave him every inch he asked for. She ran a hand up his back and grabbed onto his shoulder for more leverage as she worked him into a frenzy. He was bucking back into her and the moans that drifted from his lips were music to her ears. All the practice and care she’d taken, learning how to please a lover this way were paying off.

She knew how it felt, knew how he was riding each high and low. Watched him relax into his pleasure, at times letting her control him completely before he shifted his hips and dug into the bed with hands and knees to find purchase that would allow him to grind hard onto the sizable dildo she brandished with expertise. She’d go all night like this if he wanted.

As his circuits finally broke, she could see the waves of pleasure begin to ripple along his spine. He was coming furiously hard, perhaps harder than he had in a long time, no matter how many uses this toy of his had gotten on his own. She was that good at sensing and feeling and pushing and pulling exactly how and when and where he needed.

And August definitely needed. That much was abundantly clear as he collapsed fully to the bed, panting and gasping for air as he rode the waves of his lingering orgasm. She could see him twitching and knew the feeling because it was exactly how she felt after everyone of the orgasms he’d given her tonight. Like an explosion of sensation she never wanted to come down from and she’d given that to him finally.

She left him to catch his breath and stepped to the bathroom to run warm water over a soft washcloth and grab a fresh towel on the way back. When he was cleaned and dry, she tucked into the covers with him and pulled him to her, guiding his head to her chest.

“You feel okay? Need anything else right now?” she asked him quietly as her hand drifted up and down his back.

“I wanted to come inside you,” August admitted with an exhausted sigh.

“We’re gonna have a lifetime of that.”

Everything HC Taglist: If this isn't your thing, no hard feelings? (as always, let me know if you want on or off; if you've asked and your aren't here, try me again but know that Tumblr sometimes doesn't let me tag everyone.)

@sillyrabbit81 @mayloma @geralts-yenn @raccoon-eyed-rebel @kebabgirl67 @beck07990 @itsrubberbisquit @sweetdreamsofgelato @liveoncoffeeandflowersss @alexakeyloveloki @marantha @aireraume @angelmather1 @lizzystuffsthings @enchantedbytomandhenry @omgkatinka @littlefreya @avengersfan25 @just-chirpin @thesaucynomad @valacirca @henryownsme @summersong69 @foxyjwls007 @peyton-warren @irishavengersassemble @brattymum96 @ellethespaceunicorn @juliaorpll78 @martha-oi @cardierreh15 @cinnamoroll-things @caramariehurst @zombicupcake3 @openup-yourmind @shellyshellshell @nickfowlerrr @greensleeves888 @misshinson @thelastsock @princessaxoxo @justjulie1105 @minimin1993 @agniavateira @sammat97 @meb79 @kittenofdoomage (as always Rhi. Smooches!)

#august walker fanfiction #august walker #august walker x reader #pornstar!august walker #pornstar!AU #august walker fanfic #august walker!AU #exactly what his heart meant #deandoesthingstome #mine

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shuadotcom · 8 months

Text

Curse The Stars | HJS (M)

🪩 Summary: Meeting someone at the disco to take home for the night is customary for you, especially in your line of work. But meeting this man on this night at this disco feels more like fate as Joshua becomes much more than just your routine one night stand.

🪩 Pairing: Salesman!Joshua x Starlet Afab!Reader

🪩 Genres + AUs: Smut, fluff, a little bitty bit of angst, strangers to lovers, fwb to lovers, 1970s Hollywood au, porn with a lil plot

🪩 Rating: 18+ (MINORS & AGELESS BLOGS DNI)

🪩 Words: 8.4k

🪩 Warnings: Profanity, mentions of alcohol/drinking, poorly written 70s themes and slang (I’m a 90s baby I did my best okay)

🪩 Smut Warnings: Dirty talk, oral (f & m receiving), face-fucking, praise, fingering, pussy slapping, spitting (it’s tame lol), marking, doggy, mating press, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, overstim, creampie, reader is called good girl once, breeding kink?, big dick!joshua as usual

🪩 Note: Here’s my fic for @svthub’s 70s;teen collab!

This fic was heavily inspired by Virgo’s Groove by Beyoncé. It’s my 2nd favorite song off of Renaissance and as soon as I heard it I knew I needed to write some horny little songfic. At the same time it came out I was rewatching some Home Run performances and Joshua in those stages drives me absolutely insaneeee and here we are 🤗 This was supposed to be much shorter but I got carried away and added a little more plot than intended oops.

Thank you to my amazing, sweet, lovely beta @horanghater. I promise I’ll stop asking you to beta for me last minute!!! 🫶🏽🫶🏽 And thank you to the talented and wonderful @playmetheclassics for always making the most gorgeous banners for me! 🥺 💛

“Hi there beautiful, can I trouble you for a dance?”

This isn’t the first time you’ve been approached - not tonight or any night when you find yourself out on the town. You’ve already had a handful of people propose a dance, but all of them were men that did nothing but stare at your tits or give off the finest of sleazebag energy.

This man though…this man is different.

His round eyes stay locked on yours, an unassuming, even sweet, smile plastered onto his lips that makes the corners quirk upwards. The smile reaches those brown eyes that bat at you and render you speechless for a moment.

He’s pristinely styled, with perfectly slicked back white-blond hair, and wearing fancy attire like everyone else is; this is a new disco, and only the people with money or connections are allowed in. A freshly pressed blue suit, a very fitting lavender turtleneck, and shiny chains that glisten under the bright lights overhead, all cling to his body in ways that make your eyes linger on him longer than you should.

When he notices you ogling him, his smile becomes more of a smirk, one full of charm, and on any other man, it might’ve been suspicious, but this man has an aura to him that doesn’t make you immediately put your guard up.

“Sure,” you finally say, putting your hand in his outstretched one. With a small wave to your friends who are all giggling behind you, you’re off to the dancefloor, the man’s much larger hand engulfing yours.

With “Last Dance” having just been released, it’s the only thing that’s been playing everywhere you go for the past few weekends and tonight is no different. It plays over the speakers while you and the handsome man dance together, your bodies seeming to know where the other is moving without even having to say anything. Any hesitation that you’d enjoy your time with him fades away as the song plays, both of you singing the lyrics along with Donna Summer as he spins you around.

Typically after the first dance, you’d prepare to have your partner offer to buy you a drink in the hopes of letting the liquor loosen you up, or they’d even skip straight to the part where they’d offer to find a hotel room nearby for you to be alone.

Once again, though, he is different.

This handsome stranger simply asks if you want to keep dancing and you do. Song after song, you stay on the dancefloor under the bright, multi-colored lights, laughing and singing with him until you’re both finally in need of a rest.

“I’m Joshua,” he says loudly when there’s a slight, brief lull in the music. “Joshua Hong.”

“Y/n Y/l/n.” He smiles that sweet smile again and repeats your name back to you.

“Such a gorgeous name, but I would expect nothing less from someone so gorgeous.” The line is cheesy and you’ve heard it too many times, yet somehow, Joshua still manages to make your skin hot.

“I bet you say that to everyone you dance with!”

“Only the ones I really like.” The mischievous quirk of his lips has you rolling your eyes, but you still think it’s cute.

That’s when you decide that you want to be the one to speed the night along this time.

“Wanna get out of here? My place isn’t that far from here.”

Joshua seems surprised, though only momentarily, at your bluntness, but he nods, taking your hand in his again and letting you guide him through the crowd, catching your friends’ attention with a wave on the way out and going out into the crisp fall night.

“How’d you get here?” he asks once you’re out of the doors.

“One of my friends’ boyfriends dropped us off.” He makes a noise of acknowledgement and leads you both to the busy parking lot full of people standing around and laughing, the good times spilling out from inside the bustling building.

Joshua approaches a sleek, teal convertible Cadillac. When you reach the passenger side, he holds the door open for you, gesturing you inside with a bow and flourish of his hand.

“Out of sight! I shoulda known you’d have a fancy car.” With a whistle, you slide in and he gently shuts the door behind you.

“And why is that?”

“Most actors your age do. I would know - I’m an actress. I’ve had many a fellow actor try and get me in his Caddy.”

Joshua gets in on his side, tilting his head in question. “You think I’m an actor?”

“You’re not?” He shakes his head. “Oh.”

“Why’d you assume that?” At being questioned you clam up, clearing your throat a few times.

“Well, you’re just, you know.”

“No, I don’t know.”

“Ugh, because you’re crazy handsome, okay?! You have a face that should be on film, but don’t go getting a big head about it!” You can tell he’s going to do exactly that, the corners of his mouth raising in an infuriatingly attractive way.

“Well thank you, beautiful. Good to know you find me ‘crazy handsome’.”

“Don’t start! Now I have to wonder what it is you actually do.”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?”

“Are you a screenwriter? You seem like you have a lot going on upstairs.”

“Thank you, I think? But no way. I wouldn’t even know where to begin writing a movie.”

“Okay, then a singer?”

“I do enjoy music.” At your victorious look, Joshua shakes his head. “But nope, not a singer.”

“What about -”

“What about telling me how to get your place so we can leave the parking lot?”

“Oops.” You had been so wrapped up in marveling at the fresh leather and knowing a little more about your partner for the night that you nearly forgot you’re still surrounded by the nightlife in the parking lot.

The drive to your apartment is only about ten minutes away. Between telling Joshua where to turn, you sing along to the radio. Now that you’re not being inundated with booming music, you get a chance to hear Joshua’s singing voice and it only serves to leave you breathless.

His voice is so soft and sweet yet confident as he hits the notes effortlessly. Momentarily you falter, forgetting to warn him of the next turn simply because you’re too busy staring at him slack-jawed.

He has to call your name to bring your brain back from the Joshua-shaped hole it was slipping into just listening to him. You point out the final right turn to him, doing your best to ignore how much more handsome he is out of the bright disco lights with just the moonlight illuminating his immaculate features.

As soon as you step inside, he’s taking in your apartment, complementing your pad, your choice of furniture, and the paintings hanging on your walls. You, on the other hand, have only one thing on your mind.

When you approach Joshua, stopping him mid-sentence with your lips as he’s asking you a question about your record collection, he’s surprised, but only momentarily as he kisses you back, warm hands cupping your face.

Joshua fucks you stupid into your mattress that night. Making you cum over and over again with his dirty words and names and his big dick keeping you full and satisfied more than any other hookups from nights past.

When he finally lets you rest, body spent and listless, you all but pass out on his chest with him making no move to leave you alone for the night which is enough to have you dreaming about him when your tired eyes slip closed.

When you wake up the following day it’s to an empty bed and a note on your nightstand.

Sorry to leave you like this beautiful, but I’ve got work.

I’d love to dance with you again. Call me xo

Joshua

His phone number stares back at you at the end of his note and you mull over the idea of calling him before putting the note in your nightstand drawer instead. You can’t say you’ve ever had a hookup earnestly leave their number, so you need to let the thought of calling him back ruminate.

By the next weekend, Joshua is still on your mind and you find out that you can say the same for him. You’re back at the disco with your friends, the one you met him at, and when you’re at the bar getting drinks, a familiar voice sounds in your ears.

“You know, I waited by the phone for you all week. I was pretty hurt when every time it rang you weren’t on the other line.”

You practically jump out of your skin when Joshua appears, a pout on his pretty lips as he hovers close to your side.

“I…I um,” you stammer. You hadn’t expected to see him again, especially not so soon.

“If you don’t wanna see me again-”

“I do!” The words tumble out, cutting him off and he snickers at your eagerness. “I mean, I do wanna see you again. Truth be told, I’ve never had someone leave me their number and honestly want me to call them. It’s usually just for show.” Anytime a number was scrawled on your arm or a business card was left and you called the day after, you were usually met with disinterest or a nonchalant promise to meet up again. They never kept their promises.

“I wouldn’t leave my number if I didn’t want you to use it. I swear.” Joshua’s smile is sincere. His eyes meet yours, pinning you in place, and soon neither of you are moving or speaking - only searching the other for the answer. Eyes are the window to the soul, and when you search Joshua’s all you can find is honesty and gentleness and you allow yourself to believe it.

“Okay. I’ll call you later this week?”

“I hope you do, but do I have to wait that long to spend time with you or do you wanna get under that disco ball with me?”

The idea to buy a drink is forgotten when you take Joshua’s hand and get lost in him and the music all over again.

That night ends up the same as before with you in his car being driven to your apartment.

Tonight, though, your destination is your couch, talking to one another, drinks in hand to keep the mood comfortable. Joshua is an incredible listener, nodding along in a way that you know he’s truly taking your words in, and asking you questions about yourself. He asks what got you into acting and where you’re from. He asks about your friends, your favorite restaurants, and your favorite things to do when you’re not working.

If you rack your brain, you can’t remember the last time you had a meaningful conversation with a partner. It’s…different, in a good way.

You find out that he was invited to the disco you met at by a friend of his named Taehyung, whose name you had heard in your circle before. Hollywood isn’t that big a place.

“So, I completely forgot to ask, what movies have you been in? Truth be told, I don't recognize your name or your face, and believe me, I'd remember if I saw such a stone-cold fox on the big screen.” His words are flirty, but he asks with genuine interest.

“Well, I’ve only been in a few films, but they’re probably not ones you’ve seen.”

“Try me.” After you name the five medium-sized, indie films you have a spot on the credits in, Joshua tries to nod along but you can tell how obvious it is that he hasn’t seen any of them.

“That’s okay. I wanna be the next Pam Grier or Cicely Tyson, but I’ve still got a long way to go.”

“Hey, I’m sure you will be. No - I know you will. I can tell you’re gonna be a real star.” There’s no hint of sarcasm behind what he says. He’s so sure of himself - of his words - and a warmth overtakes you, settling deep in your chest.

“Thank you.” Your words are bashful and he seems to notice, scooting across the mustard-colored fabric of your couch, closer to you.

“Anyway, what do you do other than make people all flustered just for fun?”

“I work with people,” Joshua answers with a chuckle, taking a sip of his drink.

“You work with people?”

“Yep, all types of people. Demanding people, nice people, some of the worst people I’ve ever met. You name it.”

“I work with people too, Joshua, and we already established you’re not an actor.”

“I could never be an actor. I don’t think I have it in me.”

“Okay, so what are you then?”

“What do you mean?”

“What do you do?”

“For what?”

“For work, Joshua!” Throwing your hands in the air at his back and forth you nearly knock your drink over, but catch it in time, setting the glass on the oak coffee table, not noticing when you completely miss your coaster.

Joshua laughs, commenting on how cute you look frowning at him like this. “I’m a salesman.”

“Is that all? Jesus, stop being so weird and elusive. What do you sell? Houses? Some fancy, shiny cars or something?”

His expression stays neutral, suddenly transfixed by the ice swirling in his cup.

“Joshua?”

He heaves a sigh and finally meets your eyes.

“Washing machines,” his words come out in a rush. “Appliances in general, but I uh, I’ve sold the most washing machines in my department.” He takes a hearty sip of his drink, not meeting your stare.

“Okay? What’s the problem with that?”

“I - you don’t care?”

“Why would I?”

Joshua chuckles, running a hand through his neatly styled platinum hair. “Whenever I’m on this side of town, the second someone finds out I’m not an actor or model or whatever they assume I am, usually they lose interest in me. I know we’ve only seen each other twice but I really like spending time with you. I was worried you’d tell me to get out or something.”

The man whom you’ve only known for a week at best and who always looks so confident and self-assured is wringing his hands in front of you, an air of nervousness surrounding him.

“Lucky for you, I’m not as shallow as the other folks in Hollywood and I don’t care what you do. Besides, spending time with you is the most fun I’ve had in a long time.” Joshua seems to search your face for any hint of doubt behind your words, but he finds none.

He takes this as a cue to lean over and kiss you and you don’t think twice to kiss him back, melting into his lips and his hold.

Once again, Joshua fucks you within an inch of your life, staying over again, but this time he doesn’t have work until a little later so he sleeps in with you. After breakfast, he props you on your laminate counters and rocks your world, the remainder of your eggs and toast left cold on the side.

Joshua Hong is quickly proving to be someone you’re unable to let go of and you’re starting to believe that you don’t want to.

You and Joshua expertly fall into a groove. The next few months with him are the same; meeting at the disco on the weekends, sometimes he comes over during the week after you’ve been on the phone for a few hours, and he has sex with you on every surface of your apartment (even a few times in his Cadillac he had saved up for), then he sleeps over and goes home, only for you two to do it all over again. It becomes routine and is the very definition of your relationship with him for months.

Joshua is easy to be with and talk to and what you have works with him - you’re comfortable with him - more comfortable than you’ve ever been with a man.

That’s why it’s so easy to fall in love with him.

You don’t notice it at first and you’re not sure when your enjoyment for being around him morphed into a need to see him or when you went from butterflies fluttering in your stomach when he complimented you to full-on fawning over him internally, but it snuck up on you and hit you like a bus.

The first time it dawns on you is when you’re both cuddled up on your couch, watching a new episode of The Jeffersons. George Jefferson makes a joke that you both find particularly funny, causing you both to erupt in a fit of laughter. You peek over at Joshua and you feel your heart skip a beat. His eyes are in the shape of crescent moons (which you’re realizing you always notice and it always makes you melt) and his radiant smile that makes his whole face light up is as infectious as always, and you can’t help but beam even more. His laugh, always so airy and melodic, rings through your apartment and you think to yourself how much you wish you could hear it every day for the rest of forever.

The next time your feelings make themselves known is when he’s over and he offers to cook you dinner, which you eagerly accept.

It’s just a simple pasta dish, nothing too fancy, but seeing Joshua float around your kitchen in your frilly red apron does something to you. Every so often he’ll pause in singing along to the record playing in the living room to let you taste the sauce or the noodles, sometimes planting a kiss on your forehead or cheek before feeding you. Your heart (and your pussy) clenches at how attractive he looks and at the thought of seeing him like this more often. And by “more often”, your brain attempts to conjure up the question, “What if you lived together?”

You quickly shake the thought away, scolding yourself. You and Joshua have only been…whatever this is for a little over four months. The idea of living together is simply ridiculous.

It’s when four months roll into six, then eight, and nearly nine that you accept that your thoughts now belong to Joshua Hong and Joshua Hong only. When you start seeing him in the sunshine and away from the bright night lights, you feel the shift in your heart finalizing. In simple flared-bottom jeans and fitting shirts, Joshua is just as stunning and alluring as he is in his finest suits and quaffed hair. He can still make you laugh the same and you have the same meaningful conversations and he can still fuck you better than you’ve ever been fucked in your whole life. He’s the same slick guy that dances with you whenever you’re both feeling good and after nearly a year of knowing him, you finally accept that you’re in love with him.

The decision to tell him is one you have to make on your own.

“When are you going to stop messing around with the washing machine salesman?”

“Yeah, you need someone who will put you on the map! What about Hyungwon Chae? He’s been in a few flicks and he’s sooo handsome!”

“Yeah! Oh, or Jungkook Jeon?! His latest album is rumored to be wildly successful and I’ve heard it’ll be just as groovy as his last!”

The conversations with your friends around Joshua are always the same. It doesn’t matter how much detail you go into about the latest sweet thing he’s done for you or the latest concert he took you to or how good he is in bed (you keep that to yourself now since they never appreciate it), it’s always the same criticism. He’s not famous, he’s not rich - he’s just some “normal” guy to them and they can’t seem to fathom why on Earth you’re still seeing him.

They don’t seem to get that he’s so much more than a frequent hookup to you. At least - you want him to be. You can’t tell how he feels or if he wants more, but how will you ever know if you don’t tell him?

Your heart hammers against your chest at the thought of telling him and having him turn you down. The worst he can do is say he wants to keep your time together the same: doing things that make it feel like you’re more than what you are. Even worse is that he can stop seeing you altogether. Even the whisper of that makes your head hurt and your stomach tangle in unfixable knots.

But then there’s that possibility that Joshua digs you as much as you dig him, if not more. That possibility is what burrows deep into your brain and gives you the confidence you need to tell him.

Confidence or delusion - either way, it’s a chance you’ll take.

As an actress, you have to remind yourself that life is full of risks. You wouldn’t have any of the flicks on your resume that you do if you didn’t go to those auditions, put yourself out there, and give it your all. That’s what you want to do with Joshua - it’s what you need to do. You don’t need so-called friends to tell you that.

You have to tell him. You have to know if he’s also too nervous to admit his feelings or if you’re being foolish and pining for nothing. He’s quite possibly the love of your life and you need to tell him.

You don’t see Joshua for two weeks after you realize how you feel about him. Between his extra shifts and a rush of auditions from your manager, life seems to keep you apart for much longer than you’d like.

It’s when you finally have a night to yourself, away from the hustle and bustle that you get the time you’ve been yearning for.

You’re stepping out of the tub when you hear your phone ringing, the shrill sound breaching your quiet evening.

“I’m coming!” You call out to no one, slipping on your fluffy robe and slippers before shuffling through the apartment and to the kitchen. You make it just in time, picking up the pink phone dangling from the wall.

“Hello?” The tone you take on is slightly annoyed, hoping the caller knows you’re unhappy with the interruption.

“Hey, beautiful. Hope I’m not interrupting your night.” The smooth sound of Joshua’s voice melts you on the spot, expertly deflating your growing irritation as easily as popping a balloon. You’re embarrassed to admit just how easily Joshua Hong can get you to abandon anything else that isn’t him.

“Hey, Shua. No, I’m just at home tonight. I just got out of the tub.”

“Oh yeah? No big fancy parties with your fancy friends?”

“Nope. It’s just me, all alone with no plans for the rest of the night.” Your fingers tangle in the phone cord, wrapping the springy wire around your hand.

“I see. That sounds pretty boring if you ask me,” he hums, quickly picking up what you’re putting down. “No one to talk to or spend time with.”

“Hmm yeah, you’re right. Just me, myself, and I, all alone here,” your true intentions behind those words dripping from your flirty tone like honey. Not even five minutes ago that sounded like a perfect evening, but you already know why he’s calling, and spending the night with Joshua sounds like a much better option.

“Such a shame for you to be home alone all night. Maybe you can get someone to keep you company?”

“I think I’ll have to. I just don’t know what to do with myself otherwise. Plus, I’m feeling awful lonely.”

“Well we wouldn’t want you to be lonely now would we?” Joshua is smirking into the phone, and you can so clearly envision his grin with mischief written all over his pretty face. He wants you to initiate tonight and he’ll go back and forth as long as you’ll let him. Typically you have no problem keeping up with his snark, but the sound of his voice alone has you craving him like some sex-crazed lunatic.

Which you suppose you are when it comes to Joshua.

“Baby,” you breathe out, deciding you’re yearning for him far too much to play this game tonight. “Please come over?” You make sure to add a sprinkling of a whine at the end of your request, punctuating the entirety of your words with a tiny moan.

Joshua hums into the phone, pretending to think even though you both already know his answer.

“And how could I say no to you, hmm?” Joshua shuffles on the other end, his voice lowering an octave, but volume loud and clear to you. “I’m done work in a few. Give me fifteen minutes and I’ll be over to see you. Think you can wait up for me, darling?”

“Always, Shua,” the implication behind his words has you buzzing with excitement, your own voice lowering in a hushed tone even though you’re home alone.

“See you soon, beautiful.”

As soon as the phone hangs up you rush into action, shuffling back to your bathroom to completely dry off and moisturize your skin. With styled hair and a spritz of Joshua’s favorite perfume on you, you slip into your favorite silk nightie, the one that dusts your ankles with the slit in the side that goes up to the middle of your thigh. You don the matching robe and put on one of your favorite records, mixing two drinks after you do so.

Just as you’re about to sit down there’s a knock on your door. Your stomach does flips as you go to answer it. You hadn’t known when you wanted to tell Joshua that you want him as more than a friend he sleeps with every weekend, but this feels like the right time. Truth be told you don’t know when the right time even is, but the longer you wait the more it’ll gnaw at you and won’t leave you alone.

“Look at you,” Joshua wraps his arms around you as soon as you let him in, drawing you into his embrace. He places a kiss on your lips, lingering for a second before pulling away. You hate the way you want to chase his lips.

He follows you into the living room, sinking into the couch next to you and you hand him the drink you made.

“It’s just an old-fashioned, nothing fancy.”

“An old-fashioned is pretty fancy to me. You didn’t have to make me anything, darling.”

“Yeah, but I wanted to.”

Your words earn you another kiss, this time on your cheek and you get a new round of tingles across your body.

Joshua tells you about his day as you sit and drink together and the whole thing feels so painfully domestic. And you want it to be, so badly. Not that you want to stop acting - it’s been your dream as long as you can remember so you would never abandon it, but you want Joshua to be a part of this now and a small piece of you worries that he won’t want to. Hollywood isn’t for everyone and he’s voiced time after time how he could never see himself in showbiz or the business in general. But that’s fine with you. The time you’ve spent with Joshua far surpasses anyone else in the business you’ve ever given your time to anyway.

“Y/n?”

“Huh?”

“I lost you for a moment there. I didn’t mean to bore you with my department store tales,” Joshua chuckles, sipping his drink.

“No, you could never bore me! I was just thinking is all.”

“About?”

“You,” your answer is automatic and it’s the truth.

“Oh yeah?” You nod in response as Joshua tilts his head at you, eyes sparkling as he looks you over. “C’mon. Let’s boogie.” He puts his glass down and grabs your hand instead, leading you to the middle of your living room.

Minnie Riperton serenades you as Joshua brings you closer, your bodies slotting together perfectly as you sway to the music. He hums along, his eyes closing as he dips you for show, both of you sharing a giggle as he brings you upright.

These are the moments that let you know that you’re in love with Joshua Hong. Everything he does, everything he says, it’s all with a tenderness and a care that you’ve never experienced, but it still makes you feel incredibly special.

The beginning chords of “Lovin' You” fill the room, as Joshua’s fingers dance across your waist.

“I love this song.” He begins humming along again, and this is the moment you’ve been waiting for, you think, sucking in a huge breath of air.

“And I love you,” the words fall from your mouth before you can think twice and you do your damndest to make yourself sound confident.

Joshua’s smile slips in an instant, his expression turning serious. “What?”

“I’m into you, Joshua. So much. I wanna be more than what we are.” He’s stopped swaying completely, neither of you moving. The only sound other than the song still playing is the sound of the blood rushing loudly through your ears.

“Y/n…”

Your heart is this close to shattering into a million pieces. “What, you don’t like me back?”

He must notice your forlorn expression, because he reaches for you again, gently touching your arm. “No, it’s not that I just…”

“What is it then? Huh?”

Joshua heaves out a sigh, eyes closing before fixing you with a steady gaze. “I just sell washing machines, Y/n. I don’t have some bright future like you. I’m not getting a star on the Walk of Fame. I’ll get promoted to a store manager at best. I’m not like you.”

You blink at him, taking in his words. “That’s what you’re worried about?! Joshua, I don’t fucking care! I wouldn’t care if you worked at a factory or were a carpenter. Hell, I wouldn’t care if you were unemployed - I like you for you. No, I love you. I love you for your heart and your sense of humor and how sweet you are to me and how you actually, genuinely care about me and my interests and my dreams. I love you for every little thing about you, Joshua. Not for how much money you make or any of that.”

He’s silent, letting you pour your words out, your thoughts flowing from your mouth like a broken faucet. “Y/n…” he finally starts. The fear that he’ll turn you away just because he feels like he’s not enough grips you. Your ears tune into the song still playing and you do the first thing you can think of to get him to stop. You sing.

“Lovin' you I see your soul come shinin' through…”

He looks confused, almost unsure if you’ve truly begun to sing to him. “Y/n -”

“And every time that we oooooh. I'm more in love with you.”

“I’m-”

“La la la la la la la…do do do do do-“

Joshua closes the small gap between you two, his lips colliding with yours, putting a stop to your serenade before you can hit Minnie Riperton’s falsetto. You don’t object in the slightest, kissing him back with all your might.

“Did it work?” You mumble against his lips as you separate. “Did I get through to you? Are you staying?”

“I mean, you definitely made me lose track of what I was thinking of saying to you. I think I also know why you told me that one time that you’ve never considered being a singer.”

His teasing earns him a push against his chest, barely even moving under your force. “I pour my heart out to you in song and this is what I get?!”

He dodges the remainder of your playful hits and grasps your hands in his, his thumbs caressing your skin.

“Seriously, Y/n. I’m just a guy who works at Sears. Are you sure you want to do this? Are you sure you want me like that?” You can’t help but lift a hand and smooth out the crinkles on his forehead with your thumb, attempting to push the frown off of his perfect face.

“The only other time I’ve been this sure about something I wanted was when I knew I wanted to be an actress.” His eyes shine as you speak, searching for sincerity. “Do you want me like that?”

“God, yes, I do. I have for months.”

Relief washes over you, putting you at ease. “Then you can have me. In any and every way.”

Joshua doesn’t hesitate in the slightest. Soft lips meld into yours, your body molding against his as he holds you around the waist. His hands roam your body, his touch leaving searing warmth in its wake. He kisses you, sufficiently taking your breath away as he does. Your fingers card through his platinum locks, mussing the strands, but he pays it no mind as his lips trail from yours, down to your jaw and your neck. Joshua is nothing short of an expert when it comes to your body and the places you like to be touched and kissed.

When he reaches the most sensitive spot on your neck, the spot that makes your toes curl, he sucks, sinking his teeth into the soft skin. A sharp cry slips out of your mouth as he nibbles on the skin, sucking hard enough that there’ll surely be a mark there in the morning.

His hands wrap around you, palming your ass through your nightie and bringing your body impossibly closer to him. His erection strains against his corduroy pants, hard and aching just for you. You heave a heavy sigh when he finally leaves the patch of skin he’s working at alone, only to move to another swatch of skin. Your knees almost give out and you have to grab onto his blazer to stay upright.

Joshua’s hands roam over the silk and he continues to spend extra time on your most sensitive of areas before he decides he’s satisfied with the marks he’s decorated you with. He moves to kiss you again and with each slide of his lips against yours feeling more frantic by the second, so does his grip until his fingers catch on the knot of your robe, tugging it gently.

“Can I…?” he questions into your mouth.

“You never have to ask.” His lips curl into a smile against yours as he makes quick work of removing your robe and tossing it aside. He gently bunches up the fabric of your nightgown and eases it up and over your head, letting the fabric fall to the floor.

Now with no barrier between his wandering hands and your bare skin, Joshua’s hands move across you with purpose, one hand cradling your lower back and pushing you into him again. The other beelines for one of your breasts, his large hand scooping one up to knead at. He kisses you with so much hunger you can feel the need rolling off of him in waves and his hands that paw at you serve to make you even wetter.

He bucks his hips shallowly against you and your need for him reaches an all-time high. When you pull away, Joshua looks forlorn at losing your warmth, but when you drop to your knees in front of him, letting the brown shag underneath you dig into your skin, his expression morphs into one of excitement.

Hands work at his belt buckle, undoing it, then his pants, and you help him step out of the fabric along with his underwear. His cock, in all of its thick, throbbing glory feels as heavy as always in your hands when you pump him a few times, watching the precum bead at his tip. Wrapping your lips around the bulbous head, you suckle at it a few times, loving the way that Joshua starts breathing heavily above you, one of his hands coming up to settle on the back of your head.

You ease his length into your mouth bit by bit, enjoying the way the thickness stretches your lips and your throat as you take him in. You clench around nothing, already anticipating that same stretch in your dripping cunt.

“Fuck, just like that, darling,” Joshua grunts when you finally take him as far as you can fit him in your mouth, your hands wrapping around the rest of him. Your head bobs in tandem with your hands as you stroke him, letting him hit the back of your throat.

Both of Joshua’s hands are on your head now, his fingers getting caught in your hair as he tugs a few times. You’ve had his dick down your throat enough times to know what he wants, so you go slack, letting him fuck your mouth, gagging each time he pushes your head to meet his thrusts.

Your eyes slip closed, letting him use your mouth to the pace he wants. Your core throbs almost painfully as you suck him off and you have to rub your thighs together to feel any semblance of relief, although it’s nowhere near enough.

Joshua stills his hips then, keeping his length buried in your throat, your nose touching his pubic bone as you slowly breathe out of it. You swallow around him a few times, Joshua letting out a long, rumbling groan from his chest before pulling you back, his cock leisurely sitting against your lips, both of you trying to catch your breaths.

“Keep sucking me off like that and I’ll have to paint your pretty face.”

You suck him in one more time then pull off of him completely with a pop, tongue dipping into his slit just to tease him. “Do it. Want you to cover me in your cum.”

Joshua hisses, the grip on your hair tightening as he pulls you off of his length once and for all. “Fuck, you’re so nasty. Sit on the couch, baby.”

Ignoring the soreness in your knees, you crawl to the couch and perch on the edge, awaiting Joshua’s next instructions. Joshua unbuttons his shirt, your eyes greedily drinking in every inch of his toned, honeyed skin as he does so. Once he’s fully naked in front of you like he has been so many times before, you lick your lips, wanting nothing more than to cover him in marks of your own.

That will have to wait as it’s Joshua’s turn to drop to his knees and make his way over to you, settling in between your already open legs. His hands, always so big and warm and strong, grip your thighs, spreading them even further, so agonizingly slow.

“Mmm, there she is - drooling for me already. Crying to be filled up.”

“Josh- shua, please!”

“Please? Please what, sweetheart?” Joshua drags his finger through your sticky folds, watching your arousal coat his fingers.

“Please finger me or fuck me - anything!”

The smirk that tells you he plans to tease you plays on his lips, the corners quirking up in the most aggravating, charming way.

“Anything?”

“Please!”

His palm meets your core with force, smacking your pussy and sending a jolt through your whole body. Back arching in the air you let out a tiny scream, and more follow as he does it a second, third, fourth time.

“Joshua, baby, fuck, please!”

“Hmm? Thought you wanted anything I give you? Slapping your greedy pussy isn’t enough?”

Shaking your head vigorously, you beg him for something more. “Wanna be stuffed, please, Shua!”

His eyes darken at your words and he takes a mercy on you, landing two more smacks against your mound before he dips a finger into your core, a sigh of solace leaving you. He watches your mouth hang open as he works his finger in and out at a torturous pace.

“Always so warm and wet for me.”

“Always,” you assure him. You’ll always be ready for him in any way that he wants you.

Joshua slips a second finger in, stretching your walls more. You can write a whole dissertation about how good Joshua is with his hands and how much you love them, but his pace picks up, sufficiently wiping your brain of any of those eloquent words.

“Fuck!” You yelp as he keeps pumping his fingers into you and leans over to wrap his lips around your aching clit. He sucks at the bud, pistoning his digits and crooking them, his fingertips catching against your g-spot. “Shua!”

“God, I love it when you say my name. Say it again, baby.” To coax you, he flattens his tongue against your clit, putting pressure on it as his fingers move faster, and rougher, bringing you closer to your peak. If it’s up to Joshua, he’d have you cumming until you pass out, but you have to draw the line somewhere after the first night he wanted to see how many times he could get you to cum for him (his record is eight, and you haven’t had the fortitude to let him try and break it just yet).

“Joshua - Shua, gonna cum!”

“Go on then, do it, baby, cum for me.” He continues to suck on your clit, his teeth grazing the nub a few times and that’s all it takes to have you let go, yelling out Joshua’s name again as you do. He doesn’t give you time to catch your breath because his mouth then latches onto your pussy, tongue darting into your wet heat.

“T-too much!” Your whimpers are half-assed and he knows you don’t actually mean it which is why he keeps at it, slurping your juices and fucking you with his tongue. Joshua hums against you as he goes and it’s embarrassing how quickly you cum again, but your partner loves it, chuckling against you as he laps up your release and places a kiss on your puffy lips.

“You always taste so sweet, baby. Flip over for me?”

“‘Course,” you rasp, turning your already tired body over, Joshua helping with gentle hands on your hips. He stands up, stretching tall as he walks to his forgotten pants and gets out his wallet.

“Damn it,” he huffs, rifling through his wallet and checking the pockets a few more times.

“What’s wrong?”

“I forgot to bring more condoms. You okay waiting for me to -”

“No.”

“No?”

“No. I need you now.”

“Y/n, we’ve never -”

“I know, but I haven’t been messing around with anyone else since we started seeing each other. Have you?”

“No, I haven’t. How could I when I have a whole you waiting for me here?” Even with your ass in the air and pussy glistening with his spit, it’s the way he says this - with so much care and admiration in his tone - that has you flustered.

Joshua joins you again, hands running down your back, goosebumps popping up on your flesh under his touch. He stops at your ass, squeezing and kneading your cheeks, spreading you open, the cool air of your apartment making you jump.

The chill is quickly replaced with the searing warmth that is Joshua as the tip of his dick nudges your entrance. He purses his lips, leaning over to spit on both his length and your hole before plunging into you. His girth stretches your walls deliciously, inch by inch of him entering you.

You let out an audible shudder as he goes, relaxing your body as best you can as he stuffs you.

“Look at you,” Joshua coos once he’s fully sheathed inside of you. “Taking my fat cock so well, darling.”

“Feels so g-good, Shua. So fucking good.”

“Yeah? I’ll make you feel even better, baby.” Joshua grips your waist and pulls his hips back, all the way until only his cockhead catches at your hole before snapping forward, shoving his dick back into you to the hilt. You can’t help but wail at Joshua’s thrusts, hips meeting you repeatedly as he drives into you over and over again.

Your record still plays in the background, the slaps of Joshua’s skin against yours mixing with the melody along with yours and Joshua’s moans. The drag of Joshua’s dick against your gummy walls has you shuddering underneath him. Without a condom, he feels so much hotter inside of you as every vein, every ridge, every pulse of his cock can be felt with each thrust.

“Shit, just like that, Shua!” Your neck cranes to look over your shoulder, attempting to gain some leverage against the couch cushions by leaning on your elbows. The sight of Joshua, skin flushed and shining with perspiration, eyebrows knitted in concentration with his bottom lip pulled between his teeth is enough to send you careening towards your end. You don’t get a chance to warn him before it hits you, the building pressure in the pit of your stomach releasing as you’re pushed to let go, burying your face in the cushions with tears pricking at your eyes.

“Fuck, look at you. Couldn’t even hold off from cumming again. You like my cock that much?”

“Yes!” you sob. “So much! So good…”

Joshua pulls out, you whimpering at the loss of him, but he doesn’t leave you empty for long. Joshua’s big hands help flip you over on your back, ass almost hanging off of the couch. He grasps your thighs, pushing your knees into your chest as he enters you again, burying himself in your messy heat. Joshua’s hips drill into you, balls slapping against your ass each time he surges forward.

Your record has stopped playing by now, the only song sounding through the walls of your apartment are your sobs of Joshua’s name and his grunts as he uses all of his strength. He keeps you pinned between his body and the couch, dick battering your sore cunt as both of you chase your ends.

“Shit, baby you’re so fucking beautiful. Taking my dick like a good girl.”

“Y-yeah. I’m your good girl!”

“Yeah, you are. Always so good. Letting me fuck you raw. Wantin’ me to fill up this filthy little pussy.”

Joshua swivels his hips, tip grazing against your spongey bundle of nerves. “Just like that!”

His hands keep your legs up and spread open as he does what you beg for, repeatedly pounding into your g-spot as your eyes roll back, mouth hanging open as any more sounds die on your tongue.

“Look at you. All fucked out and drunk for my dick. Gonna pump you full of my seed, maybe even fuck a baby into you. Would you like that?”

“Yes! Fuck me, Shua!”

“Fuck yeah, I will. Gonna flood this cunt with my cum and get your belly nice and round. Gonna make you mine forever.”

The Earth shatters around you and a tsunami of fire washes over you when you cum again, your back arching painfully as you scream out for him. Your pussy clenches around him, squeezing his cock like a vice which triggers Joshua’s orgasm.

“Shit - fuck, Iloveyousomuch!” The words tumble from Joshua’s lips as he cums, painting your insides sticky and white. He milks himself as he keeps his pace, his seed spilling out around his cock, leaking out and dribbling down your ass. Feeling him stay true to his word and pump himself dry into you draws a final, much smaller, weaker orgasm out of you as tears fall from your eyes both at the oversensitivity and hearing Joshua say to you what you’ve hoped he would for nearly a year.

Neither of you move, panting like crazy as the sweat on your bodies starts to dry along with the cum still slowly trickling out of you. When Joshua finally eases out his softening length, it’s with a groan on both your parts. Your sore legs lower, limply hanging off of the couch. The sensation of the rest of his cum seeping out of your abused hole and down your legs makes you sigh, your hips wiggling in response.

“Look at you, baby. You’re a mess.” He’s still a little out of breath but still manages to tease you.

“And whose fault is that?” He simply chuckles at you and you watch him through bleary eyes, heave himself off of the couch, and go into your kitchen.

He’s back in no time, two glasses of water in his hand. He offers you his bicep which you take, using him for leverage to sit up. You eagerly accept the water, downing the glass in less than thirty seconds, dry throat more than grateful.

Joshua’s next to you on the couch, watching you as he hydrates as well. The two of you sit in silence, emptying your cups and catching your breaths. For a moment, you worry that his confession was only in a bout of pleasure, but as if reading your mind he speaks.

“I meant it, you know. I love you.”

That’s all you need to hear to have you practically launching yourself in his lap, your lips crashing into his for a long, but sweet kiss. Joshua cradles your face, kissing you back just as hard, both of you eventually giggling into each other’s mouths.

When you need to breathe again, you pull away just enough to rest your forehead against his. Joshua’s brown eyes shine as they meet yours, your stomach flipping as you’re reminded for what feels like the 500th time just how handsome he is.

“I know you already took a bath, but I think we need to get you in the tub again,” he comments, gaze flickering down to the cooling streaks of his cum on your legs. And how he’s all yours.

“Only if you join me this time.”

“Only if you make time to let me take you on a proper date tomorrow night. We’ve spent a ton of time together, but I need to court you for real now.”

“As if I’d say no to you. I’m in love with you after all.” A brilliant, blinding smile takes over Joshua’s face and your heart leaps. No matter how much time you spend with Joshua, you don’t think you’ll ever get tired of laughing with him or smiling with him. And especially not dancing with him. You’ll never tire of that.

Net tag: @kflixnet

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lotusconstellation · 1 year

Note

Well, I had an idea for you to do...

The reader is a streamer who enters the Welcome website and, together with the live people, gets to know this Welcome and Yandere! Wally.

Well, how would Wally react to that? And as time goes by wally falls in love with the reader, how would he see the reader's fans and his job of doing live, playing games, watching videos?

-🐰

{Sorry this took so long! But I ended up getting to caught up in the request and ended up having to make a pt. 2, I do apologize though, I hope you don’t mind. As always, I hope you enjoy! And thank you for the request!}

(Art, Wally and Welcome Home all rightfully belongs to @partycoffin)

“Nostalgia” Pt. 1

Pairing: Yandere Wally Darling x Streamer! GN!Reader

Tw: Yandere behavior, cussing

Summary: You decide to take a trip down memory lane with your Viewers. Unaware of the consequences.

Y/N was a daily streamer under the name of {Streamer name}.

Y/N wasn't very big or popular, maybe with a few frequent watchers here and there that would greet them in real life and ask for a quick picture, but that’s all Y/N could ask for really.

They didn’t need to have a big platform or have a lot of money. They just wanted to stream for fun, just something they could do in their free time when they had nothing else to do.

Y/N didn’t really have a main style of content to put out. Sometimes it’ll be them reacting/watching something a viewer recommends, playing a video game, or even just making a relaxing space for anyone who needs it— playing soft music in the background while answering to any comments.

One day, Y/N was hit with an unexpected wave of nostalgia. They had started remembering fond memories from childhood. From the happy ones to the embarrassing ones— down to the old shows they used to watch as a kid. The sudden wave gave them an idea. Once they would get home from work, Y/N would take their viewers down memory lane and react to old shows and/or movies from the early 2000’s.

“That theme song had no reason being that good, I’m telling you,” Y/N said, taking a sip of their drink while reading the chat.

=======

NeonLeon: No fr

Anxpsyche: The Little Einsteins theme song from season 2 is the best, I know they just added clapping but it made it sm better

WhimsicalWanderbitch: I remember I used to watch Little Einsteins and The Backyardigans all the time when I was kid with my brother

Passionfruit69: Pls play the wonder pets theme song

WhimsicalWanderbitch: me and him always sang along to the songs

Theanklebreaker: I loved wonder pets, omg

JumpInTheMacaque: Does anyone remember Sharkboy and Lavagirl?!

Kirbolissous: OH MY GOD I REMEMBER I USED TO LOVE THE SHIT OUT OF YO GABA GABA THAT SHOW WAS MY SHIT

Escapeben: Do you remember Oswald?

Scouts_Kubs: all I remember watching is little bill and how the teletubbies scared tf out of me

Springday23:SAME!

lychee_jelly_tea:I REMEMBER SHARKBOY AND LAVAGIRL

=======

As Y/N was talking with the chat, they had let out a gasp. “Aweee, oh my god, I just remembered this really old show I used to watch,” The Streamer cooed, flashbacks flooding their mind of them watching said show for hours on end. Recalling all the soft yet bright and vibrant colors of the show, and all the lovable characters.

Y/N waited a moment for the chat to respond. Seeing most of them asking for the name of the show, while a few others carried on with their own conversations. “It wasn’t an early 2000’s show, it was like…” The streamer’s words trailed off, trying to remember when the show was made. “Ah fuck, when was the show made? It was made in the…70’s..? I wanna say, oh my god, Wait, what was it called? God damn it,” Y/N leaned back on their chair, with their hands over their face, as they tried to remember the name of the show. Meanwhile the chat was listing off shows from the 70’s to try and jog their memory.

========

lychee_jelly_tea: Lupin the third pt. 2?

JumpInTheMacaque: The Addams Family?

Theanklebreaker: Uh…New Fantastic four?

Kirbolissous: Was it The New Adventures of Batman?

NeonLeon: Scooby doo?

======

“Oh my god it was called Welcome Home!,” Y/N shouted, jumping up from their previous position.

“That one show that looks like it was inspired by Sesame Street? Oh my god wait-“ Y/N went to Google and searched up, “Welcome Home Characters” the results popped up right immediately. “These bitches!” The streamer circled their cursor around a big JPG image of all the ‘Welcome Home’ characters.

“I remember that whenever I would have to be babysat by my grandparents, all they had was this old Combo television unit and a bunch of old VHS tapes. So all I had to watch was whatever VHS tapes they had and Welcome Home was one of them,” Y/N explained, unintentionally looking further down the rabbit hole of the show, reminiscing in all its glory. By now, Y/N was grinning from ear to ear.

“Oh my god, this is gonna be embarrassing but I remember Wally, the main character- er the one with the blue hair, low-key used to creep me out,” Y/N laughed, feeling embarrassed how a puppet with a blue pompadour used to creep them out.

“Like, I wasn’t scared of him but the way he laughed and the way he would just stare at people for an uncomfortable amount of time in the show is what creeped me out,” Y/N had elaborated after noticing the chat was clowning them for being scared of a puppet.

====

Anxpsyche: Bro, you were scared of him? He looks gay as shit

lychee_jelly_tea: I ACTUALLY REMEMBER WATCHING THAT SHOW AND HAVING A HUGE CRUSH ON WALLY!

JumpInTheMacaque: @Lychee_jelly_tea had me watch that show when we were younger and I low-key loved it

NeonLeon: You were really scared of a puppet? This puppet out of all of them?

JumpInTheMacaque: They actually have a website for that show now

Theanklebreaker: I would be scared of the chicken that looks like Big bird

Passionfruit69: I’d be scared of the gray one that’s looking at the butterfly

=========

“Okay- Later on I wasn’t scared of him. He grew on me, I’m just saying when I first watched him I thought he was a little off!” Y/N defended, it took awhile for them to notice a specific comment. “Wait, JumpInTheMacaque, you said they have a website?” Y/N leaned forward, scrolling back up to where JumpInTheMacaque made that comment before scrolling back down.

======

JumpInTheMacaque: Yea, but you can’t really do much with it rn, you can only see the neighborhood from a Birds Eye view and see the Info about the characters

====

“I still wanna see it, give me a sec,” The streamer went to The search bar before pausing. “Is it just called ‘Welcome Home website’ Or…”

“Oh! I found it!” Y/N exclaimed, clicking on the website without hesitating The website opened up and a picture faded in with the title in big pastel letters on the left center of the picture and Wally sitting on a painted rock with colorful flowers, trees, and home all right behind him. Wally stared at you with his round eyes and had an opened mouth smile. Y/N oooh’ed in awe, fascinated by the way the site opened up. “Oh my gosh, this is so cool,” Y/N tried to contain their excitement, but the shake in their voice and the huge smile on their face was a dead give away. They apologized when they realized their failed attempt. “Sorry guys, I’m just so excited right now.”

"With a hop, skip, and a jump, you are ushered into the colorful, serendipitous world of Welcome Home! It only takes one stroll down the neighborhood to know this is just the nicest little place you’ve ever seen! Watch Wally and his colorful array of friendly neighbors learn about the vibrant world around them and take part in nonsensical fun!"

“Oh Jesus Christ, alright, let’s get started- There’s a guestbook?!…YOU CAN WRITE IN IT?! Wait- I wanna look at everything else first before I do the guestbook.“

The rest of the stream was filled with Y/N clicking around in the neighborhood and reading the info about the characters, expressing memories and giving info about some moments they remember from certain episodes. Y/N was about to click out of the neighborhood and take a look at the guest book. However, they caught a glimpse of something that seemed…out of place. “What the hell is that?” Y/N questioned, pointing to the small black spot under Home with their cursor. “What the hell is that?” The streamer leaned closer to their screen, squinting their eyes to try to get a better look. Right away, they tried to see if they could move Home out of the way, but it didn’t work. Whenever they clicked on Home it either opened up to Wally’s info or it didn’t move. “What…what do I do? That’s not just me right, you guys can see that?” Y/N was at a loss, what do they do?

====

Kirbolissous: What the hell?

lychee_jelly_tea: I’ve never noticed that before! What is that?!

Anxpsyche: what in the actual hell is that?

NeonLeon: Why is there just a black hole under Wally’s house?

JumpInTheMacaque: Try inspecting it, find Home’s code, delete it, then get out of inspect

=====

“Okay, hold on,” Y/N followed the instructions the best they could, they wouldn’t really skilled in this type of stuff, so they struggled a bit, though they figured it out pretty quickly. “Okay…” They mumbled, now seeing a huge black hole in the place Home was. Y/N was confused and clicked on the hole. The computer suddenly opened up a new browser and it seemed to be taking awhile to load. However, Y/N said nothing, sitting in silence as the air slowly started to grow thick, and their palms started to sweat.

Y/N’s eyes grew wide once the image finally loaded. The whole screen was black other than a red outline of Wally on his knees, reaching up to a window and Home’s eyes staring back at him. Y/N stared at the image for what seemed like hours. They just sat there, inspecting the image in horror, but mainly in bewilderment.

What was this?

Why was Wally on the ground?

What was going on?

Why was this on the website? Was it supposed to be?

Slowly, Y/N clicked off the browser. The computer immediately took them back to the Welcome Home website. Y/N scratched their nose and clicked out of the neighborhood, going to the guestbook. “Okay, I don’t know what that was but let’s-…” The Streamer put in the name they go by online. “Let’s just do the Guestbook then I’m calling it a day,” Y/N tried not to let people see how spooked they were, but again, their now quiet and soft tone, gave it all away.

Y/N wrote in the guestbook.

“Looked around the neighborhood with all my viewers, everything was so bright and colorful! Really loved it!”

With that, Y/N bid their signature goodbye to everyone before stopping the stream and turning everything off, but Y/N didn’t move just yet. Their mind was still stuck on the image of Wally.

Was that supposed to be on the website? Why would it be? Are they just trying to add a twist to the franchise now? But why would they, it was fine the way it was. Yes, it got canceled, but that’s only because it became outdated. Was this a sign for something big?

Gah, Y/N shouldn’t be worrying about this. People are allowed to add things to a franchise as long as it stays true to the characters (to a certain extent) and stays respectful to the creators boundaries, and Wally was a bit of an odd one. Maybe they’re just now going more in depth with his character since now it’s a new time with new interest, and they have to get people’s attention somehow, right?

Whatever the reason, it was getting late, and Y/N had to get up for work tomorrow. With that, they finally got up from their uncomfortable chair they use for every stream and stretched. Satisfied when they heard some joints pop and crack. Y/N let out a yawn, realizing how tired they were before walking off to their bathroom to brush their teeth..

𓆩ᥫ᭡𓆪 𓆩ᥫ᭡𓆪 𓆩ᥫ᭡𓆪

…Through the static of the TV, you can hear Wally’s muffled voice boom through the tiny speakers.

"That concludes our time together for today, my dear neighbors. But rest assured, tomorrow is another day, and I'll be watching over you just as diligently. Goodbye, neighbor. Ha ha ha.”

*Click*

The End! I hope you enjoyed and keep on the lookout for pt.2!

That is all for today, I hope you are having a good Day/Night/Afternoon and I will see you all in my next writing, au revoir!! 💜💜💛💛

#welcome home #wally darling #wally darling x y/n #wally darling x reader #fanfic #fandom #x gender neutral reader #gender neutral post #x reader #yandere #yandere wally darling #yandere wally darling x reader

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upon-a-starry-night · 5 months

Text

Number Neighbors Pt. 10

Natasha Romanoff x Fem! Reader

Natasha Masterlist Series Masterlist

Word Count: 1.6k

Summary: When you catch sight of the newest trend going around you know you’re all but bound to at least try it, it was harmless anyway. What could possibly stem from something so little?

---

You layed in bed as the sun shone through your curtains, it was well past the time you would usually wake up but who could blame you, weekends were your happy place. Although as of late you’d been getting your source of serotonin from somewhere else. You rolled over and picked up your phone, checking the time. Noon. nice.

You tried not to be disappointed at the lack of notifications on your screen, it’s not like you got messages from anything but take-out places and…

You sighed, Nat hadn’t responded for an entire week now.

You knew she told you about how her job would cause her to go remote but it didn’t make it any easier, and after last weekend… god you needed to get a life. You really couldn’t let your whole life revolve around one woman you met on the internet. So what if she makes you laugh harder than you ever have in your life, and listens better than the copper statues in the park downtown?

You wondered if she even considered you a friend in the same way you did her.

The fact that she hadn’t blocked you yet meant she was at least entertained by your personality but did she feel the same connection you did? The same loneliness when you didn’t text her back for a while (not that it was ever that long). Did you help her unwind after a long day at work as well?

You sighed, pulling the covers over your face and groaning. Maybe you were becoming too dependent on someone who only saw you as entertainment. The one time you decide to try something new ends up with you having a quarter-life crisis, it’s just your luck.

You layed in bed staring at the ceiling until a sudden wave of irritation washed over you, you were not going to waste the rest of the day wallowing in self-pity like this.

You threw the covers off of your body, a newborn determination in your bones.

Today you were going to try something new and it was going to be great. You’d make sure of it.

Your initial intention had been to try a new activity; pottery or rug making or something hands on but when your stomach grumbled you figured a new restaurant was still as adventurous as you were looking for.

You weren’t in a particular mood for anything so you entered “restaurants near me” into your phone and scrolled until you found a cute retro-looking diner that was only a thirty-minute walk from you.

You could use the fresh air and the exercise so you clicked on the directions and placed your headphones into your ears as you began walking down the street.

The diner was as cute as the pictures had shown, if not cuter. The retro 70’s style of the seats and decor was always a style you’d been a fan of. It was the kind of place where a lot of influencers would probably come to take pictures. You wondered why you’d never come across this place only to spot the “Just opened!” sign on the cherry red counter.

As soon as you sit down you’re approached by a man who seems too cute to be a server, he’s dressed in a leather jacket and jeans with a simple white T-shirt underneath. He looks like he’s straight out of Grease and it almost makes you laugh at how much he fits in.

Much to your surprise, the handsome stranger pulls a notebook and pen out of his pocket and smiles at you.

“What can I get for a pretty lady such as yourself?”

The compliment makes you blush and you quickly realize that he fit in so well because he did work here. You figured there would be some sort of uniform or apron the servers would have to wear but apparently, they were all free to come dressed like they just walked out of a teenage vampire TV series.

He tilted his head when you didn’t respond and you watched the way a strand of his hair fell in front of his face and suddenly you felt like a teenage girl all over again.

You quickly cleared your throat and looked back down at the menu “Oh uhm- I will get…”

You looked over the menu and picked out the first thing that sounded appealing, tacking on a milkshake at the end of your order.

Your server wrote everything down with practiced ease and flashed you a charming style before going to put your order in.

Once your food was delivered and you were chowing down you began absentmindedly scrolling on your phone through your Instagram fyp, it was all your typical preferred content and you liked and saved a few posts before your milkshake was brought out by a woman who was dressed in various shades of red white and pink, an apron sat tied around her waist.

So they did have a uniform?

Or was this one of those places that only made women dress up? You smiled at the waitress as she handed you your drink and you thanked her and began scrolling through your coworker's posts.

One of the women you worked with had just gotten engaged. You clicked on her profile and scrolled through the posts of her with all her friends. The sight only reminded you of your lack thereof and your current… predicament with your only friend.

Your mood quickly turned sour once again and you found yourself sadly sipping your milkshake as you stared out of the window, watching couples pass by and squinting your eyes at them in jealousy.

You're sure you probably looked weird and you weren’t all that surprised when an older man approached your booth. You were sure you were about to get kicked out for glaring at potential customers when his lips turned down into a frown and his hands landed on his hips, he was wearing a white apron and a nametag that said “Dale”, and from the looks of it, he was some kind of cook.

“Never in my 30 years running this place have I seen someone look so sad eating my food” Before you had a chance to respond he was sliding into the seat across from you and telling you about how the restaurant came to be.

He told you a lot of stories about his wife and all the ways he tried to win her over before she finally agreed to date him.

You laughed more in the 30 minutes he was talking to you than you had in over a week and you smiled at the warm sensation that filled your stomach. You forgot how good it could feel to interact with other people in person.

After you finished laughing at Dale’s most recent tale you sighed with a smile on your face and made eye contact, hoping to convey your sincerity

“I’m sorry I looked so upset earlier- I swear it wasn’t because the food was bad”

Dale just smiled knowingly and nodded his head at your phone

“Partner troubles?”

You blushed, not able to make eye contact with Dale as thoughts of you and Nat swarmed your head. Briefly, you wondered if she’d like this place, and you quickly shook the idea from your head.

“Not exactly, I’m just a little salty I guess. Everyone my age is getting married and I can’t even keep a boyfriend.” You covered your face in embarrassment, unable to face the complete stranger whom you just spilled your guts to. When you finally gained the courage to remove your hands Dale was looking at you with a mischievous smile.

“What” You tilted your head, a confused smile overtaking your face

“Let me introduce you to my son. He’s around your age, very outgoing, very charming” He winked at you when he said the last trait and you couldn’t help the small chuckle that left you. You were always anxious when it came to new people but you promised yourself you were going to try new things today so you lightly nodded your head and Dale immediately stood up to go fetch his son.

A minute later your original server begins heading your way and you prepare to hand him your card but you’re surprised when he sits down in the spot where Dale sat. Before you can say anything Dale is back with another milkshake telling you it’s on the house and leaving with another quick wink.

It finally registers in your head a second later that the man across from you is Dale's son, hence why he probably didn’t have to wear a uniform. It was nice of him to help out his father.

You stuck your hand out across the table and felt your lips curl into a friendly smile.

“So you’re the infamous son I’ve heard so little about?”

A smirk appeared on your table buddy's face and his warm hand reached across the surface and clasped yours in a firm grip.

“So I am”

The two of you talked for what felt like 4 hours but was only one, During that period you finished your milkshake and learned that Dale’s son’s name was Dolion after his Greek great-grandfather but that he preferred to go by “Leon”, you also learned that Leon and his father had just moved here on account of his mother passing away.

The two of you hit it off more than you thought and you found you shared a lot of similar interests, although he was a lot more outgoing than you were.

Leon was by far one of the most charming men you’d ever met, his father was right, and when you found yourself getting up to leave he grabbed you by the arm and asked you for your number, how could you say no?

The walk home was a happy one and you found yourself stopping to sit at a park with a smile on your face as you thought about your day.

Maybe it would be a good month after all.

Maybe this was the start of something really lovely

Pt.11

No Nat content this chapter sorry guys :( ~ Starry

----------Taglist------

@marvelwomen-simp @cd-4848 @wandanatlov3r @rebeltombraider @ctrlamira @fxckmiup @aliherreraaa @natsxwife @la-douler-ne-finite-jamais @romanoffsgal @moistblobfish @natashaswife4125 @elenimoris @how-to-disappearrr @screechcat

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saintmagx · 30 days

Text

NSFW Alphabet 🥵

Grayson Waller x reader

‼️ Warning: 18+, smut, swearing, mature content, cringe writing ‼️

an: not proof read in anyway shape or form cause I cannot 🫣

Thought I’d try a little something different. Been wanting to do one of these for a while 👀 everyone I write for will eventually have one of these - was just desperate to write something for Grayson 🥲

Grayson fic coming soon - if anyone is interested 👀

Aftercare, what is he like after sex?

Grayson is not overly huge on aftercare. Once he is out of his post glow orgasm state he will ask you how it was for you, offer you a drink then either get back to fucking you or going to sleep. Sometimes too much aftercare is a huge ick.

Body part, his favorite body part on him and also on you.

He likes his arms, he loves showing them off to you trying to impress by showing how strong he is. He is such a thigh man, absolutely adores your thighs - infact it’s his favourite place to be. He is always touching them, grabbing them when you sit next to him, he is extremely primal in staking his claim and leaving hand/bite marks I’m all over them to show everyone who you belong to.

Cum, anything to do with cum.

This man goes feral for creampies. He HAS to finish inside of you. Again it’s all about him showing you who you belong to. His second favourite place to cum is on your face. You looking up at his doe-eyed face full of his cum MAKES.HIM.WEAK

Dirty secret, pretty self explanatory.

For as long as he can remember, you’ve always got his blood pumping. When he started at the performance centre the same time as you it was as if fate brought tall together, however Grayson was too shy to make a move on you - which sounds completely out of character but I think if he really liked someone he wouldn’t be his cocky ass self. When he followed you on insta, he would pleasure himself to your photos, it didn’t have to be bikini photos, it could be normal ones - that’s the effect you had on him. This man was weak for you. It’s something he hasn’t shared with you as he doesn’t want to come off as being weird.

Experience, how experienced is he? Does he know what he’s doing?

It’s pretty obvious he is experienced with the ladies. He knows all the right buttons to press to get you off. Even though he has been with alot of women he still had to learn what you like and dislike, but it didn’t take him long to find a rhythm with you and have the best sex of yalls life.

Favorite position, this goes without saying.

This man loves having you cowgirl. Seeing you bounce on top of him, boobs at his disposal, seeing your face twist and contort to him thrusting up into you, he is in heaven.

Goofy, is he more serious in the moment? Is he humorous?

Grayson is naturally a goofball but in the bedroom something takes over him, the goofiness is left at the door and this darkness comes over him. There’s no giggling and playfulness, he is intense and passionate when fucking you.

Hair, how well groomed is he?

Grayson has hair, it ain’t a full grown 70’s style bush, it’s neat and present and he isn’t ashamed about it.

Intimacy, how is he during the moment? the romantic aspect.

He is intense and passionate. Always whispering compliments into your ear telling you how well you are taking him, how much of a good girl you are. There is LOTS of forehead resting/kissing that gets you weak. He gives you glimpses of a tender side when fucking you and it’s just as good as when he is being rough and assertive.

Jack off, masturbation

When yall were on different brands this man would constantly be touching himself to the thought of only you. He would look at the pictures and videos of you on his phone. Grayson would call you up on so many occasions to watch you play with yourself wishing it was him with his fingers inside your pussy and not yours.

Kink, one or more of his kinks.

The thought of you pregnant with his children DRIVES.HIM.WILD. He knows yall ain’t ready for kids but just the thought of it makes him crazy. Cumming inside you is a must, he loves nothing more than telling you when he is fucking you he is going to put his kids in you, and how amazing you’ll look round and full of HIS babies.

Location, favorite places to do the deed.

The old faithful in the bedroom is one of his favourite places, he wants to make sure you are comfortable and laying you down on a soft mattress that he fully intends to pound you into - nothing beats it. When he is feeling more risky and adventurous fucking you on a balcony comes in at a close second, the rush it gives yall - the thought of being caught, it all adds to the pleasure. Lastly a mirror. This one is more intense as he makes you watch yourself as he is fucking you from behind, he loves seeing your face twist and contort in pleasure and he wants you to see exactly what he sees.

Motivation, what turns him on?

This one is simple. You. You turn him on. Everything you do, everything you say, the way your clothes hug your body, the innocent look you give him when you are teasing him, the teasing of him is something he doesn’t tire of. Nothing gets him harder than when you tease him, dropping something between his legs so you have to kneel down in front of him, looking up at him through your eyelashes, gripping his thighs, to then pick up what you dropped, wink at him then leave.

No, something he wouldn’t do.

There is nothing that’s off limits to Grayson. You want to try it? He will do it for you, just like when he comes to you with his fantasies you never say no.

Oral, preference in giving or receiving, skill?

Grayson isn’t a selfish lover by any means, however he will admit he does prefer getting blowjobs. He would happily sit and let you suck his cock all day till there is nothing left to empty into you. He will always return the favour and does love eating you out, the taste of you is something he can’t get enough of, but will admit that his tongue spends less time in you than you spend with your lips wrapped round his cock. It’s never really been an issue for you though cause that boy knows how to use his tongue.

Pace, is he fast and rough? slow and sensual?

It depends on his mood. He can be slow and sensual, or rough. You tend to find when he is frustrated, angry or annoyed the sex is rough. I’m talking hair pulling, biting, spanking, throat grabbing, grunting it’s nothing but pure animalistic.

Any other time he takes his time to worship you, to make you feel loved and adored. It’s a health mix that you both love.

Quickie, his opinions on quickies? how often?

He’s not a big fan of quickies because he likes to take his time with you, but sometimes when yall on the road or backstage and the tension between you is high he has to take you right there and then. Bless his heart he tries to be quick but it’s almost never quick.

Risk, is he game to experiment? does he take risks? etc

The risk of getting caught is a turn on for him, he likes to play with fire and luckily never gets burned. Nothing is off limits, he will sit next to you in restaurants just so he can rub your clit, have his fingers inside you when yall travelling on the tour bus. He wants to try cockwarning with you but has yet to find the opportunity.

Stamina, how many rounds can he go for? how long does he last?

2 maybe 3 rounds depending on how long yall been fucking. Sometimes yall have been locked away in your hotel room for hours. When it comes to Grayson he’s more about the quality of the fuck than how many times he has you cumming - though that can be a fun game too for him.

Toys, does he own toys? does he use them? on a partner or himself?

He doesn’t have toys for himself, however he does have for you. A nice butt plug that he sticks in your ass whenever his attention is on your pussy. Cause each hole deserves attention. Sometimes he even has you wearing it when yall go out for a meal or out doing errands. He is normally trying to keep himself soft when out in public, but the thought of your ass stuffed until he is ready to use your hole makes it so hard to stay soft.

Unfair, how much does he like to tease?

Grayson teases you alot. He likes to get you all riled up ready for his cock then he will stop what he is doing and go back to doing whatever he was originally doing. He is a menace, making you grind on his thigh, cock starved only to have you a whimpering mess and not give you the cock you crave. He isn’t all bad though, eventually he gives in and fucks you, but not until he says.

Volume, how loud is he, what sounds does he make?

Just like he is loud and proud in his normal life and in the squared circle, when it comes to the bedroom he is extremely vocal. His moans can drown out you at times, he grunts, swears and praises you throughout, every sweet sound that leaves his lips sends goosebumps rising all over your body.

Wild card, a random headcanon.

He loves making home videos with you. Who needs porn when he has a mountain of videos and photos at his disposal on his phone. When yall fucking he always has his phone out whether it’s taking pictures of his dick in your mouth of videos of him filling you with his cum, he has something for every mood.

X-ray, what's going on underneath his clothes?

Honestly he’s a solid 7. It ain’t the size that matters it’s how it’s used and he can definitely use it.

Yearning, how high is his sex drive?

He thinks about fucking you ALL.THE.TIME. The sight of you, your lingering touch all of that make his cock twitch in his pants, however he knows your sex drive isn’t as high as his so he tries to be respectful most of the time.

Zzz, how quick does he fall asleep after?

Honestly, because of the intensity and passion, Grayson falls asleep pretty quickly, once he’s snuggled up next to you (sometimes he even likes to be the little spoon) he quickly melts away into a deep sleep.

Tagged:

@jeysbae

@blueflowermentality

@co-sharkie

#wwe fanfiction #grayson waller x yn #grayson waller x reader #Grayson Waller smut #wwe x you #wwe x oc #wwe x reader #wweedit #wwe smut #Grayson Waller x you #Grayson Waller fan fiction #Grayson Waller imagine #wwe imagine

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sister-lucifer · 1 year

Note

yo i want to see headcannons of any of the marble hornets or even ticci toby with a cottagecore fem s/o, how would they react with the way she styled herself? i mean.. they are a vicious ruthless monster and then here she is their s/o who is just love nature, 70s fashion, sweet and friendly like yk

Proxies with a cottagecore S/O

Toby, Tim/Masky + Brian/Hoodie x Gender Neutral Reader (Separately)

Genre: Fluff, Headcanons

Content/Warnings: Toby’s section gets a bit suggestive because that’s how he is (small touches, staring, ogling, but it’s all light), a minuscule mention of blood, mostly fluff

Like my writing? I take requests! NSFW or SFW for any fandoms in my bio (request rules + masterlist in pinned post)!

Also, please reblog! it’s free, takes two seconds, and really helps me out

Feedback is encouraged and appreciated:)

Not fully proofread! Let me know if you see any errors!

Toby

Oooohhhh this boy

Keep in mind, he’s about 19, 20

Those horny teenager hormones are still coursing through him, and they aren’t leaving any time soon

Seeing you in such cute little clothes gets him a liiiiittle worked up, he just can’t help it!

If you’re wearing pants, he’s eyeing you up when you walk away, 100%

If you’re wearing a skirt, don’t be surprised if his hands wander up your thighs

He’ll stop if you tell him to of course, he doesn’t want to make you uncomfortable! But if he knows he’s got the green light, you know what to expect

He also loooooves that you love nature! He loves it too!

Be prepared to pick all the leaves and sticks out of his hair when he comes back home after a long day/night

And also wash the blood of off him (don’t be surprised if he asks you to join him in the shower)

AND be prepared for him to bring back random bugs, frogs, and other small animals and try to convince you to let him keep them

(do not let him)

He’ll definitely be bringing back random plants and berries to see if you can cook with them

He’s really good at foraging, although he’d be significantly better if he could remember what’s edible and what’s not

He’s got some brain damage and ADHD but he tries his best yk

Just pat his head and tell him he’s done good

He also may or may not sneak into your closet to try on your clothes every once in a while

Masculine, feminine, androgynous, he doesn’t care! He likes your clothes!

Overall he’s rather sweet, if a bit oblivious; you may have to teach him a few things, but he’ll learn for you!

Tim/Masky

Tim grew up in an old farmhouse, he knows a lot about this sort of thing!

In fact, your cottagecore aesthetic is borderline nostalgic for him, it really warms his heart in a way he’s waaaay too embarrassed to ever admit, even if he personally doesn’t partake in the lifestyle

He’ll totally adjust fine to the cottagecore life

He’s had his fair share of experience with cooking with whatever he can forage from the woods (and he actually knows what can and can’t be eaten), so he’s very helpful in the kitchen!

He’s also a very skilled hunter, so he’s more than willing to bring back a fresh kill for you to cook

He’ll skin it and do all the dirty work for you, that way your job is easy

In return all you have to do cook him dinner while he’s in the shower washing off the smell, and he’ll be happy

He thinks your style is absolutely adorable, even if he won’t outright say it!

That’s okay though, because you can see it in the way his eyes widen a bit when you come down the stairs all dressed up in the prettiest little outfit he could ever imagine

He’ll pause and look down, exhaling the smoke from his cigarette before looking up and giving a brief compliment:

“Lookin’ good, sweetheart.”

He’s kinda emotionally constipated, but you’ll learn to read him

If you craft, please give him homemade gifts!

Baskets, wreaths, flower arrangements, whatever little cottagecore trinket you can conjure

You’ll have his heart forever

One of Tim’s favorite pastimes is whittling, so don’t he surprised if he leaves a little deer statue on your beside table as a thank you

Tim isn’t high maintenance or hard to satisfy at all, he’s more than happy to share a quaint little cottage with you

All he needs is a kiss on the cheek when he leaves for ‘work’ to keep him warm until he can hug you again

Brian/Hoodie

Brian is probably the most well versed on internet aesthetics, and dare I say may even be a bit cottagecore himself!

It’s a lot more subtle of course, but you can see it in the way he hoards potted plants and persistently makes sure the hummingbird feeder and bird bath are full

He’s also the most invested in nature, if that makes sense; he knows a lot about the native flora and fauna of his area and will always point them out to you if you’re around

It’s not unusual for you to catch him staring out the window at the birds

He doesn’t really like to cook and he doesn’t forage since it’s not something that’s ever interested him, but he has a way with sewing!

He collects patches for his bags and clothes, and he likes to alter and add to his own garments

He’s phenomenal with patchwork and fixing up tears

Never again will you have to be upset about a rip in your favorite dress or a split seam in your best pair of pants!

Brian will have it fixed up like new in no time

You won’t even be able to tell it was ever torn!

Although he doesn’t forage, Brian always brings a bag with him to pick up any plants he hasn’t seen before or wants more of

If he particularly likes one he’ll uproot it and put it in a pot to keep in your cottage

Soon half of your house will belong to the plants, but it’s okay because he makes sure they’re arranged cutely

He cares just as much about the aesthetic as you do, don’t worry

He definitely likes to match outfits too!

If he’s ever in town and sees a piece of clothing he likes, he’s buying another (or at least the closest thing) for you too

Be ready for many fashion shows, all while he compliments every single outfit (and you’d better do the same for him!)

When he’s home there will certainly be many calm, domestic nights filled with mundane couples activities and exhausting laughter

He’s a romantic at heart, and nothing will ever change that

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bettyfrommars · 2 months

Text

Ring of Fire

a biker Steve au

Part 2: More Than Words

masterlist playlist

18+ONLY, MDNI, longing, friends to strangers to lovers, mature themes, mention of sex work and violence, reader has secrets, so does Steve, eventual smut, dirty deeds, biker!Hopper. It's the mid 90's and Steve is in his early 30's.

word count: 4.3k

Summary: Getting to know the town of Hawkeye, including Munson's Garage and Patsy's diner. Steve has dreams of another life he never lived. Reader has dreams of Steve. Hopper spends his spare time looking out for Lorelei.

A/N: There will be references to I'm on Fire in the first part of this chapter by way of dreams, but it is not a crucial plot point to the story, just in case you are not familiar with the other series. I keep wanting to bring more of the places/people in from IoF, but every time I do, this Steve morphs into the old one, and I love the idea of exploring him this way, without the other backstory.

Morning cracked open through your blinds, a bright sun void of warmth. Rolling to face the wall on your floor mattress, you curled the lemon-yellow comforter up over your head, only to be bludgeoned by the onslaught of birds tweeting outside your window.

A motorcycle grumbled by on the street below and you were officially awake.

There was a kitchenette in your apartment, but you didn’t have a coffee maker or grounds yet. The diner opened at 6am on weekends, and that is where you planned to go. You considered throwing a coat on and shuffling over in your pajamas, but ended up pulling on a change of wardrobe that did not match and a shirt that was inside out.

7:30 was far too early for clever dressing.

The sky matched the color of the pavement by the time you stepped out onto the sidewalk, now that the sun had been obscured by hulking clouds. You pulled the hood of your sweatshirt up as a soft drizzle misted your skin, waiting for a big truck to pass before making your way across the street.

One block over and two blocks down was the red and white sign for Patsy’s Diner. You spotted it just as the rain fell unyielding, your feet picking up the pace.

There were three cars in the slant street parking out front, including a big black Chevy truck with a square body style from the early 70’s.

You didn’t see Steve until it was too late. Not until you locked eyes through the diner window.

—-----

Steve picked Robin up every Saturday morning to have breakfast at Patsy’s, which had been their ritual for almost a decade. There’d been a couple exceptions, including the months Robin was locked up for voluntarily taking the fall for the weed possession for one of her girlfriends, and a few when Steve had been out of town on a run with the Coffin Kings. Other than that, even with the worst head-splitting hangover, they never missed it.

Robin threw her leather jacket into the booth first before she slid in wearing paint-splattered overalls over a baggy tee with the band Heart on the front. Her warm golden hair was long, passed her shoulders, and worn in a low ponytail, exposing the “lover” tattoo inked in cursive just under her ear.

Their booth was right at the front corner of the L-shaped diner, next to the window. Steve had even carved their initials under the table at one point with his old utility knife. The booths were burnt sienna vinyl that were so worn at the seat that they were ripped in places, exposing the gauzy innards. The waitress Jeanette collected steaming plates from the kitchen hatch to carry to another table while Sharon, her co-worker, brought over a steaming pot of coffee and two stout, brown mugs.

Steve rolled a toothpick around in his mouth from side to side as he held open the laminated menu to look it over, even though he could read the whole thing with his eyes closed.

“Rough night?” Robin asked while she concentrated on stirring three spoons of sugar and a hearty dollop of cream into her coffee.

Steve didn’t look up from the menu. “How could you tell?”

Between the raw strawberry on his knuckles and the dark purple half moons under his eyes, he knew the answer was obvious.

“Your hair looks like it’s trying to evacuate your scalp.”

She waited for him to start combing the mess back with his fingers to give a soft chuckle.

Steve let the menu go flat on the table and palmed the rim of his black coffee to pull it closer. “I had another one of those dreams last night.”

His best friend’s eyes snapped up, but then Jeanette was there to take their order and the conversation had to pause while Steve got his standard hotcakes with bacon, and Robin her omelet with hash browns and sourdough toast. They exchanged a few pleasantries, since Jeanette had worked there as long as the two of them had been alive, and then Robin settled back in her seat with a weary huff.

Steve felt like he had to remind himself to blink, his eyes were so dry. He stared out the window as he spoke. “I had a kid, a little boy.”

Robin leaned forward to rest her forearms on the table. “Was I his mother in this one? These dreams of yours freak me out. I can’t imagine being someone’s mother, like, not ever.”

“You were a really good one though,” a hesitant smile quivered on his lips. “You helped me raise him even though he wasn’t biologically yours. But in the dream last night I—”

Every time he woke up from those particular dreams, he mourned the loss of a child he never had.

He cut off what he was about to say as the memory of the love he felt in his dream hit him like a wave. “Last night I was about to get married to some woman, and we had a baby on the way. My baby.”

She was about to crack a joke, but then thought better of it. “I know what it feels like. To have the kind of dreams you don’t want to wake up from. Who in the hell would want to wake up to our lives.”

“Wayne is healthy though,” Steve nodded to himself, trying to find the positives. “In these dreams he’s…sick or something, and I’m always worried he's not going to live much longer.”

“The apocalypse couldn’t kill Wayne,” she smiled. “Old man will outlive all of us.”

The food came, and the topic of conversation changed, until Robin shoved a bite into her cheek. “What was his name? Your son?”

“His name was Oliver,” Steve held a strip of bacon out, not ready to take a bite yet.

Robin bobbed her head a few times. “That’s a good name,” and then, “you want to talk about what happened last night?”

“Same old shit,” he huffed, slapping a few crumbs off his black tee while he chewed. “Hop and I were called out to the junkyard and—”

There you were again, like another dream he was bound to wake up from.

Robin was concentrating on shoveling a particularly big bite into her mouth, so she didn’t know why he’d gone so quiet, until she followed his line of sight.

You stepped inside, wiping the rain off your face, but you kept your hood on while you waited for a waitress to greet you. Inside the diner was cozy, wall to wall carpeted a teddy bear brown, and smelled of cooked meats, coffee, and syrup. It made your mouth water, and you wondered if you should splurge on something as frivolous as eating out.

Jeanette tried offering to seat you at the bar, but you were adamant that you’d take a brew and some sugars to go. Also a toasted bagel, you added that in at the last second.

“You want egg on that, honey?” Jeanette asked, nestling her pen in the curly silver hair above her ear.

Peeking out from the side of your hood, you noticed Steve lifting up to get a better look at you from his window booth. “No, plain is fine, thank you.”

“Who is that?” Robin asked, wiping her mouth as she turned around in her seat to get a look at you.

“No one. Someone I knew in middle school,” Steve mumbled, hacking into his stack of pancakes with the side of his fork. “She’s the new renter above Donna’s place.”

“Huh,” Robin turned her attention back to her plate. “Why do you look so flustered?”

You were standing at the door, watching the rain come down in sheets, when you felt a warm body sink in behind you.

“You need a ride back?” It was Steve with his hands in the pockets of his jeans. “It looks pretty…wet out there.”

When you turned to face him, you brushed some forgotten crumbs off of his chest with your hand. It was a very familiar gesture, one that neither of you thought too much about until much later that day.

You were about to decline, but it was the integrity of your bagel that concerned you. Jeanette brought you the big to-go cup and warm bread in a paper bag.

“I don’t mind getting wet, just as long as you aren’t here on your bike.”

—------

Steve ran over to tell his companion to sit tight while he drove you the 3 blocks home. His friend waved at you from her seat, and you gave a tentative wave back. More like just holding your hand up in the air actually, something of a Spok greeting.

“I don’t want to interrupt you—”

“She’s fine,” Steve assured, lifting his jacket up to hold over your head as the two of you pushed through the door and into the frey. “This will only take a minute.”

Hunkering down in your hood, you jerked the heavy metal door of his ‘78 Chevy pickup open, and then spread yourself long across the bench seat to reach over and pop the lock on his door.

Rain dripping down his face, Steve watched your two fingers pluck the lock up, and it was a small gesture to most, but a tender one for him. Even his ex-girlfriend hadn’t afforded him that, not once.

You weren’t his girlfriend though, you were barely a friend. An acquaintance he’d fantasized about in his formative years.

Once you were both under shelter in the dry cab, you glanced up through the windshield and saw Robin keeping an eye on the two of you from her place at the window. Even through the visual distortion from the rain, you could make out a soft smile lingering, perking up her cheeks.

The interior smelled like him: old leather, cigarettes, and the yellow, vanilla, tree-shaped freshener hanging from the volume knob on his radio.

“Sorry if it stinks in here,” he reached down to swat the ashtray closed that was full of smoked filters. “I need to clean that out.”

“Are you familiar with the dumpsters in the alley behind Donna’s place?”

He nodded yes as he put the key in the ignition.

“Well, they are right under my bedroom window, and I have no air conditioning. I’m looking forward to how my place will smell in the dead of summer.”

The truck grumbled to life and he anchored his arm around the seat to turn and see where he was going as he backed up. “You just need one of those air conditioning units that fits in the window. I know a guy, I’ll get you one.”

You hadn’t been fishing for help but, “that’s really nice of you, thanks.” His offer made you feel small for a second.

Less than a minute later, you were at your place. He pulled in as close as he could to the awning without crashing into the cement structure.

Not many words were exchanged as you got out, just a few mumbles of “thank you” and “good to see you”, but then you were out and slamming his heavy door shut to hurry inside. He waited out there for a few beats, wishing he would’ve said more before coasting back to the diner.

—---

Later that day, as the sun faded to a collage of pink orange behind the low hills, Hopper sat on his Harley in the parking lot of the Rosebud Motel.

The amount of time spent waiting there, watching the door to room 11 might have sounded absurd to some, but he knew that no one could look after her like he could.

He’d read about a trucker in the news who was paying women for sex and then hurting them. A few of the girls were missing, and foul play was suspected, but no one cared about the victims enough to investigate much. Most of Lorelei’s clientele were locals; lonely hired hands and married men, but there were always transient travelers looking for some company when they passed through town. Those were the ones he was concerned about.

The door to her room opened just as he lit a fresh cigarette. The guy that stepped out was pushing 70, adjusting his suspenders over his shoulders. She stayed in the doorway, covered in one of her satin robes, and kissed him on the cheek. Her appointments weren’t always about sex. Some were, for sure, and those he preferred not to think about, but a lot were touched starved hermits who craved conversation and a shoulder rub from a beautiful woman. A few liked to worship her feet. One guy preferred to feed her ice cream while they watched Cheers reruns on the bed together. Bottom line, nothing she shared surprised him any more.

The local customers knew that Hopper was her watchdog, and they’d be too afraid to cross a line with her, even if they wanted to.

Hopper had not yet been intimate with Lorelei though; not even a kiss.

For years, he’d managed to keep it platonic, ever since she hired him to be her driver and bodyguard for a date with a new customer she wasn’t yet comfortable with. He’d known that same night that he wanted to be with her, but he also knew he wasn’t special, that she saw him as a bit of a necessary evil to keep the bad man away.

But, Hopper was a bad man who had done many bad things. She deserved better.

He would protect her with his life at the drop of a hat.

Ned, the guy in the suspenders, shuffled to his Chrysler LeBaron, and then Lorelei turned to smile and wave at Hopper.

He fixed his hair, slicking it back on each side, squinting as he plucked the last of his smoke from between his lips, tossing it to the pavement before adjusting his Coffin Kings cut to wave back.

—----

The rain was off and on all day, until the night shadows snuffed it out, allowing only a damp mist to remain. Earlier, you’d found a coffee maker at the thrift store, and when you still couldn’t sleep at midnight, you decided to caffeinate yourself to see if it counteracted your awakeness and made you sleepy. Not much logic to it, but still, there it was.

Deciding to go out for a walk, you zipped your jacket up and headed out, down along the dumpster alley, and out into the street that led to the park. The playground equipment sat so ominously motionless, the empty expanse felt eerie for a moment as you made your way over to the swings, hands shoved deep into your pockets.

You grabbed onto the chain, sitting in the teal plastic seat. Beneath you, the ground was worn into a large divot where years of dragging feet had been. You remember sitting on the same swig when you were a little kid and your feet couldn’t reach the dirt.

“Do you want to be alone?” His voice came out of nowhere, making your head turn so fast you almost kinked your neck.

You saw the plume of cigarette smoke before you saw him. He was cloaked in darkness, but there was something about his shape, the way he sauntered forward.

“Steve?”

“Miss me?”

You took a deep breath, attempting to slow your heart rate. “What are you doing out here?”

“I was just wondering the same thing about you,” he came fully into view then, illuminated by the full moon through the tree boughs. “This is my park.”

“Oh,” you looked around with mock surprise. “You own this whole park? You did well for yourself.”

With a flick of ash from his cig, he sank down into the swing next to you, chains clinking against the aluminum bracing as he did so. His hair curled at the base of his neck, the thick top part flopping to one side as he raked a hand through it. He was wearing that same type of v-neck shirt under his leather jacket to give a peak of his chest hair and tattoos, as if he knew you’d be looking. As if he’d known he’d run into you.

He smirked. “When Eddie and I were kids, we lived in that trailer park a few blocks that way,” he nodded over his shoulder. “We spent a lot of time here. Any excuse to get out of the house.”

He extended the pack of cigarettes out to offer you one, but you declined that time. “What were you out here doing tonight though?” You pressed.

“Couldn’t sleep,” he grumbled a laugh. “Decided to go for a ride. You?”

“Same, with the not being able to sleep thing. In the city there is more to do but not many options here.”

“Tell me about it,” he scoffed.

You shared a silence then, one that did not feel empty or awkward, but then he looked up at the sky that was clear and bright with stars.

“Do you wanna get out of here? Go for a ride?”

It took you a full minute to answer, but it was not a hesitance based on uncertainty. It was hesitance based on wondering if Steve knew what he was getting himself into with a girl like you.

“Where are we going? New Mexico?”

He shrugged, making eye contact again. “We could. If that’s what you want.”

You ran your tongue along the tips of your teeth, waiting for him to come over and take your hand to help you out of the seat. He pulled you up so fast, your chests crashed together, your mouths inches apart.

“I want to show you something,” he said, brushing his lips against yours.

—-

When you blinked awake the next morning, you realized that meeting Steve on the playground had been a dream. You let the weight of its loss sink in as you rubbed sleep from your eyes, fumbling for the key around your neck as if you might’ve misplaced it in another dimension.

On the other side of town, Steve revved his bike to life in the garage of the picket fence house he’d been renting from Eddie Munson. Eddie’s ex Melanie left him high and dry with a mortgage on his hands, and he was quick to offer it to his friend when he had nowhere to go. Steve took care of the small lawn, and did any repairs with money from his own pocket. He didn’t really care about the quaint seaside bungalow look of it—the garage was all that mattered to him. He could keep his bike in there and fix up project cars when he had the means.

He was running late, so he took the shortcut through the back alleyways of town.

Or maybe he knew he’d be on time, he just wanted to cruise by your apartment and see if he could get a glimpse of you.

Coffee was brewing in the office at Munson’s Garage when he got there and from behind the desk, Robin looked surprised.

“You’re almost a half hour early,” she dropped her attention to the papers she was organizing. “Did you get any sleep at all?”

“I slept great actually,” he lied, pulling a styrofoam cup off the stack to fill it with steaming brew. “At least five hours.”

“No shit,” she returned under her breath. “If you’re ready to clock in, Eddie has that Plymouth up on the lift for you to take a look at. The owner wants to pick it up this afternoon.”

She stood to hand Steve a sheet of paper as she spoke. “A few vehicles are coming in to get serviced at 9. Eddie has to pick up a tow in Everett, so it’s just you and Hopper today.”

Through the window over Robin’s head, Steve could see the inside of the garage and Hopper leaning against a tall, red tool caddy to have a smoke. He bucked his chin at Steve when he caught his eye.

A few hours into the daily grind, Steve was murmuring the lyrics to the song More Than Words by Extreme while he was on the creeper under a car, thankful for Hopper’s presence since he really didn’t give a shit about the music. Eddie though? His tastes were very particular, and they usually had to flip a coin. When Steve won the toss, Eddie grumbled around the bay all day, rolling his eyes at Steve’s enthusiasm for Prince’s entire discography.

Hopper kicked Steve’s foot to get his attention.

“What’s up man?” Steve grunted, continuing to work.

“Protection run tonight with Bones and a few of the others. Are you coming?” Hopper had on cement gray coveralls and pulled a red rag from his back pocket to wipe carburetor fluid off his hands.

Steve stopped what he was doing and used his legs to inch out from under the Pontiac Firebird. He’d scratched his neck several times and wiped his eye, so there were dark smudges in those spots. A protection run was when members of the Coffin Kings went along to escort precious, most likely illegal, cargo across state lines.

Steve didn’t answer, so Hopper continued. “Sounds like we’ll each be getting a couple grand a head.”

A couple grand? For a few hours of work when he wouldn’t be sleeping anyway? Oh yeah, Steve was going on the protection run, no matter the risks.

“Steve?” The voice belonged to someone else at that time. Someone who sounded a lot like you.

Steve sat up on the creeper and fiddled with the wrench in his hand, sure that it was only Robin and he was just hearing things.

But, there you were, stepping into the garage from the parking lot with what appeared to be a casserole dish in your hands.

“Um, hi, you—um,” Steve got to his feet after a clumsy shuffle with the creeper, wiping his hands off as well as he could on his jeans.

“I brought you some lunch,” flustered, you realized it was past noon and surely he’d had lunch already. “Or dinner, whichever. As a thank you for driving me home yesterday.”

Hopper looked from Steve to you and then back to you again before excusing himself to the other side of the garage.

Robin hurried to spy on the conversation from the air conditioned privacy in the office.

“For me?” He wasn’t trying to be obtuse, he was genuinely confused.

“Well,” you steadied the ceramic dish in your hands, glancing around. “Or whoever else might want some. It’s lasagna. My mom’s recipe. I made some for myself earlier and just thought you might…um…do you like lasagna?”

“Sure,” he reached out to take it from you. “Who doesn’t like lasagna?”

The words were there, but you couldn’t read the expression on his face. The scowl lines in his forehead and the down-turned side of his mouth told you that he was repulsed by all of it: the lasagna, you, everything.

Steve was speechless. Not for lack of words, but more an abundance of them. The last time anyone had cared to make something for him was his grandmother before she passed. Robin had made him dinner a handful of times, but that was different. Still, all he could do was stare at the tin foil cover and wet his lips.

Your brain raced. “If it’s too much, I can take it back?”

“No,” Steve moved the dish away as if to protect it from your reaching hands. “I’ll make sure to clean the dish when I’m done and get it back to you.”

“Don’t worry about it,” you shuffled back, turning on your heel to beeline for your car as fast as you could.

We were going to run away to New Mexico together, remember?

A few other Coffin Kings had just pulled into the parking lot, and with narrowed eyes, Steve noticed that they were all watching you walk away.

Fuckers.

He struggled to find a place to put the blue dish down, and finally settled on the concrete, so he could head off after you at a jog.

“Hey,” he caught your arm, moving with purpose to block their leering view of you. “Is that your car? Let me walk you over there,” pointing to the yellow Dodge Omni parked under the awning.

You moved a few steps, so did he, and then you eyed him suspiciously. “What’s going on?”

One of the Kings whistled their approval of you, and Steve gnashed his teeth.

“Nothings going on, I just wanted to make sure you know how grateful I am. For coming over here. With the food. For bringing me food.”

You tried to see where the whistle had come from, but Steve darted to the side to block your view.

God, he was blowing it. What a tool.

You wanted to tell him about the dream you had, but right then didn’t feel like a good time.

“I have to get back to work,” you looked at your hands, and then lifted them to the heartbeat in his tan throat, and eventually up to his full lips. “See you later?”

He reached out as if he might hug you, but then put his arms down again, slapping them to his sides. “Hey, are you busy tomorrow night?”

“I work during the day, but otherwise I’m never busy,” you swallowed, avoiding his gaze.

“Do you want to get out of here? Go for a ride?”

But then, your eyes snapped up at the familiarity of the questioning.

“There’s something I want to show you,” he added.

----

Thank you so much to my readers, I love you and love to hear what you think.

#Steve Harrington #Steve Harrington au #biker!Steve #biker Steve Harrington #biker!Hopper #Ring of Fire #Steve Harrington fic #Steve Harrington series #Steve Harrington smut #biker au

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pedros-husband · 9 months

Text

You have a big ass

pedro pascal characters x male/gn! reader

characters included: Javier Pena, Joel miller, Javi Gutierrez, Marcus Moreno, Ezra, Din Djarin, Frankie Morales, agent whiskey, Silva, Oberyn Martell

javier pena: he loves a juicy ass so his eyes are constantly on yours, especially if you wear any of his 70's style jeans. he has no shame so wether your in the office, in town, or at home he will slap your ass or squeeze it. he especially likes it if your bent over someones desk trying to speak to them, he loves picturing how you'd look bent over his desk whilst he fucks you.

Joel miller: hes not into PDA so he'll only ever stare at your ass if your in public, but he'll still do it shamelessly. sometimes he'll let you walk ahead with someone else on patrol or by yourself simply so he can stare at your ass and they way your jeans cling to it, or the way yoour hips move at each step, making your ass jut out.

when yoru at home though, hes completely different. he has absolutely no self restraint when your in the comfort of your house and no ones prying eyes are on you. he'll smack, slap, kneed your ass, at every chance he gets, in the morning or evening thoguh he loves smacking your ass in the morning whilst you make coffee, making you stand up straight and let out a surprised snort, snapping you awake.

Javi Gutierrez: he’s a sucker for you in anyway possible and he loves praising you in any shape or form so he loves commenting on how much he loves your body, especially your ass. When your cuddling his hands will subconsciously move to rest on your ass, sexually and non sexually. If he’s feeling more frisky he’ll squeeze and/or slap your ass. He’s also a sucker for making you feel good and he loves eating you out. (I totally see him as a power bottom)

Marcus Moreno: he’s super cheesy and I can totally see him as that chest single dad so he’ll mostly make cheeky comments and jokes about your ass (In a cute way though) he totally loves eating you out and holding your ass cheeks as he does so, because like javi he’s all for making you feel good and giving you the pleasure, because he gets pleasure from yours.

Ezra: he is a man of words and poems so he’ll go on long tangents about how much he just loves your ass or he’ll talk in great detail about what he wants to do to your ass/ with it. He also likes smacking your ass when you don’t expect it.

Din djarin: he’s not very touchy especially because he’s spent most of his life alone, but he’ll admire the way your armour/clothes cling to your ass. He loves watching you work or train in silence, he is so grateful of his helmet so you can’t tell that his gaze is almost permanently on your ass. When you do get more intimate or touchy he’ll mumble about how sexy your ass is and if he’s feeling particularly bold he’ll grab it and pick you up, punning you against the wall.

Frankie morales: he also is shameless in public so he’ll smack/slap your ass as a greeting or in passing. He smirks when you gasp and smack his arm, smiling at your angry blushing face. In bed/cuddling he’ll

Agent whiskey: he’s got no shame as well, in public, at work, or at home. He loves if you wear tight fitting jeans and if you do he looses all self restraint. If it’s in the office he’ll fully pick you up by your ass and onto his desk, he can and will take you at work, tequila and ginger are used to it by now and have earplugs for when you do it. He’s slap your ass as he walks by you as reflex, sometimes he doesn’t even realise he’s doing it.

Silva: he’s so sweet and soft for you, but he worships you and your body so he’ll constantly mumble under his breath to you about how much he loves your ass, how it drives him wild. When cuddling on the bed/couch he’ll pull you into his chest by your ass cheeks and knees them softly.

Oberyn martell: everyone knows he’s a complete man whore with no shame at all. Hell fuck you all over the palace and in the garden. So sometimes he’ll slip out of meeting and duties just to watch you train, admiring the way your armour and underclothes excentuate your ass. Hell not necessarily slap your ass but he does like to knees it in his hands and watch as it goes redder with his touch. He also likes eating you out and holding your ass cheeks as he does so.

————————————————————————————

I didn’t include as many characters this time because this serves as more of a placeholder whilst I finish my main fic that hopefully should be finished soon. It’s already over 1.5k long and I’m not halfway finished yet 😅

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filthyjoetini · 2 months

Text

Stumblin' In

a/n: Here we are guys. The last part. Thanks for sticking around <3 feedback, reblogs and likes are as always very appreciated. beta-reader, editor, partner in crime: @barfightzanddiscolightz

warnings: rpf, fem!reader, could raise your blood sugar...

wordcount: 4k

part 1 - part 2 - part 3

Part 4

“It looks so stu-hu-hupiiid.”, you groaned, stomping your feet and throwing your head back in frustration. You stood in front of your full-length mirror. One of your legs was only halfway inside your tights which had a run from you pulling too hard on them. Your lace corset-top, which was halfway tucked into your faux-leather skirt, hung loosely around your torso because you couldn’t find the laces. You were sure that one of your cats had stolen them and hidden them under your bed, where you couldn’t reach them without crawling under it. But the worst thing of all was the fact that your flat iron decided to die on you mid-way through styling your hair. Luckily, you had already finished your make-up, which turned out to be perfect.

After unplugging the broken styling tool, you took it to your bathroom and placed it in the sink to cool off. Looking down at it with a sneer, you quickly grabbed your hairdryer and curling brush. Returning to your bedroom, you plopped down on your bed and took a few of deep breaths to ground yourself. You needed to calm down. Why were you so nervous? You knew when and where you needed to be. It was a cute little café that also served a variety of sandwiches and other finger foods. You had already checked the menu online and knew exactly what you were going to get.

And you’d read the book twice. For your book club, of course, and not at all to impress him. No need to, right?

With one last big breath through your nose, you stood up and took off your damaged tights. You threw them on your bed, telling yourself you would throw them away later. Later meaning ‘three weeks from now’ later. Pushing yourself up from your bed, you walked over to your commode and picked your second-best pair of tights out of your drawer.

“Yeah...you’ll do.”, you sighed and pulled them on gently. They didn’t really go with the rest of the outfit, but you didn’t have time to go out and get a new pair that would suit your style better. The next step was to find the laces for your top. You got down on all fours and crawled halfway under your bed, where most of the cat toys had found their final resting place. After rummaging through the pile of toy mice, hair and zip ties, you finally found a huge ball of laces. You pulled it out from under the bed and immediately spotted the silk fabric of the strings.

“Fucking cats.”, you muttered under your breath, shaking your head. Carefully, you began to untangle the ball of laces and gently pulled out the one you needed before skilfully threading it through the corset’s grommets, tightening them and finally tying them on your back.

Two tasks down, one more to go.

You plugged your hairdryer into the outlet, turned it on, grabbed your curling brush with your other hand and started straightening the second half of your hair. The brush left a little curve at the ends, making one half of your head look like a 70s actress, whilst the other half screamed late-00’s emo kid. Groaning, you got to work on the emo side again to even it out a bit. You weren’t fully satisfied with the result, but at least it looked somewhat presentable now.

After staring at yourself in the mirror for far too long and almost spacing out, you decided to pick up your mobile phone from where it was lying on the bed. You gasped when you saw the time. You were running royally late.

Panicking, you grabbed your purse and your trusty leather jacket and sprinted for the door. There you slipped into your Dr. Martens and tied them up properly. Another trip to the hospital wasn’t in your books.

As you opened the door, you yelled back at your cats to behave before hastily locking the door and speed walking down the corridor and stairs.

---

Heaving and panting, you entered the café. You prayed that Joe wasn’t there yet, but unfortunately, you spotted him already sitting down in a cosy armchair, dressed in his overly expensive trench coat, phone in hand.

You collected yourself and stepped into the room, slowly making your way over to him.

“Hey,”, you greeted him, clearing your throat.

Joe turned around quickly when he heard you, beaming grin on his face. He immediately stood up and pulled you into a bone-crushing hug.

When he pulled back, he was holding you at an arm’s length, eyes narrowed, lips between his teeth. He studied your face. Then his eyes darted down your body, a smirk forming on his lips.

You rolled your eyes, snorting at his expression.

“Yeah, I know. For once I don’t look like a hag. All put together, like a normal human being.”

“You never look like a hag,”, he scoffed at your self-degrading remark, “and you always look put together. With or without make-up. I like it though. Suits you very well.”

He said the last part with a wink that made you blush instantly.

Quickly, you took the remaining couple of steps to the second armchair and sat down. Joe though, didn’t move an inch, instead opening his mouth again.

“Do you know what you want? There’s a menu on the table.”

“Oh. Can you get me a cappuccino with the Toblerone sprinkles and one of those egg and cress sandwiches? They look delicious.”, you blurted out without looking at him or the menu at all, shrugging off your leather jacket.

When Joe still didn’t move, you looked up at him and saw him grinning down at you.

“What?”, you asked, innocently.

“Nothing.”, he smirked and then walked off to place your orders at the counter.

---

Joe placed your sandwich and hot beverages neatly in front of you on the very tiny table and his in the same orderly fashion on his side before sitting down.

“How was your wor-”

“How’s your nec-”

Joe and you both started to speak at the same time and stopped abruptly again when you noticed. It made you both giggle.

“Sorry, you first,”, you urged, gesturing for him to start talking again.

“How is your neck?”, he asked, the giggle still evident in his voice.

“I had a check-up two days ago and the doctor said I’ll be just fine, although there is no cure for my clumsiness.”, you giggled and shrugged your shoulders.

“Good. Because otherwise I’ll have to find a new nickname for you, and I’ve grown quite fond of Bambi.”, he explained, a gentle smile now sporting his lips.

“Shut up…”, you muttered bashfully before composing yourself and taking a huge gulp of your cappuccino and a bite of your sandwich. “How was your foreign mission? Any more planned?”

“Oh, you know, the usual. And yes, always.”, he replied nonchalantly, as he leaned towards you. He had his elbow propped on his knee and slowly rested his chin on the heel of his palm, smirking smugly at you.

Two can play this game, you told yourself, mirroring him.

“And what is it you do? Mr. Over-Secretive?”, you inquired further, returning his smug expression.

“I’m an actor.”, he responded quickly, leaning back casually into the backrest of his armchair, hands placed flat on his knees.

“Oh.”, you replied, somewhat taken aback. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in anything before.”

“Ouch.”

“No…I didn’t mean it like that.”, you apologised immediately, leaning further forward and grabbing his hand without thinking. All Joe could do was smile down at your hand.

“It’s alright. I’ve been in a lot of period productions, and I know they are not for everyone.”, he replied, adjusting his hand in yours by lacing your fingers together.

“Yeah, they are not my cup of tea.”, you nodded, staring at your intertwined fingers before moving your eyes up to his face. “Have you been in anything else?”

“Yep.”, he replied, popping the p. “I was in the latest season of Stranger Things.”

“Wha-?”, you started, mouth agape now and eyes wide. “That’s one of my favourite TV shows. Who did you play?”

“Eddie Mun-“

“GET OUT OF HERE!”, you almost shrieked, pulling your hand away from his and clapping it over your mouth. An elderly couple two tables over glared daggers at your outburst. “Sorry…I didn’t mean to shout.”, you spoke through your fingers, muffled.

All Joe could do was laugh at your reaction. You were so bloody adorable. Especially when you started blushing as soon as you did something out of character.

“Eddie is my favourite character this season.”, you confessed, almost whispering.

“Yeah?”, he asked, giggling.

“Yeah.”, you confirmed sheepishly.

“Anyway.”, Joe continued, trying to divert the attention to something else. Something else was obviously you. “What do you do for a living?”

“It’s really not that interesting.”, you explained with a shrug. “It’s your usual boring desk job.”

“I bet it’s not as boring as you make it out to be.”, Joe spoke, an encouraging smile on his lips.

“It really is.”, you concluded with tight lips, leaving no more room for an argument. “In contrast to my job, yours is very multifaceted.”

Nodding, Joe didn’t inquire further, sensing your discomfort with the subject. You let out a shaky breath and then put on a smile again. You didn’t want to dampen the mood. Joe returned your smile and leaned forward to take your hand in his again. It was very warm whilst yours had become clammy.

"So…what do you do for fun then?”

“Well, I really, really enjoy going to the cinema to see obscure films and I love to read a book every now and then.”, you stated with a chuckled. “Oh, and I love music. I love, looove love going to concerts.”

Joe couldn’t take his eyes off you as you rambled on about your passions and favourite past times. You animatedly recounted the story of the last concert you went to, and Joe basically hung on your every word.

“What do you like to do for fun?”

“Hmm...”, Joe pretended to think, putting his free hand under his chin, which made you giggle again. “I love going to the cinema, especially to study the work of other actors as well as the directors. I also like to write scripts. They’re usually silly little stories. And I love to read. Speaking of reading. I just finished the book this morning.”

“Did you? How did you like it?”

“Considering I literally devoured it between shoots, I’d say pretty good.”, he said with a chuckle, letting go of your hand to reposition himself in his armchair.

“Well, I was hoping so.”, you giggled, pulling your hand back and you crossing your legs. “Otherwise, I’d have to disband our book club.”

“Bambi, book clubs are for discussing different opinions about a book.” Joe retorted. “Disbanding it prematurely would defeat its purpose.”

“Nuh uh.”

“Yuh uh.”

“Nuh uh!”

“Yuh uh!”

“Ugh. You’re even more annoying than my cats.”, you groaned, knowing he could go on like this forever.

“You have cats?”, he asked, his eyes widening with interest. His whole body moved forward again.

“Yep. Two little bastards.”, you replied with a chuckle. You took your phone from beside you and showed him a picture of your two fur babies. “Do you want to meet them?”

“Yes. Duh!”, he responded, immediately getting up from his armchair and pulling on his coat.

“Uhm, Joe. You still have some coffee and food left.”, you pointed out with a raised eyebrow. Joe looked down at the table and quickly downed his now cold coffee and stuffed the rest of the food into his mouth.

“Okay. Let’s go.”, he spoke again after he had swallowed everything. You were still sipping the last of your drink and wrapping your sandwich in a serviette when Joe was already halfway out of the café.

“Hey. Wait up.”

“Hurry up! I’ve got cats to meet.”

“Idiot.”, you muttered under your breath, shaking your head, grinning and following him out.

---

“Joe, you really don’t have to do this.”

You slowly climbed the stairs up to your flat, Joe beside you, hovering like a mother hen. An arm was draped around your waist. A safety precaution.

“I won’t fall down again.”

“Says you!”, he objected, jabbing a finger into your side almost causing you to lose your balance nearly missing the next step. You cursed under your breath. Why do you have to be so ticklish?

“See? You almost fell again!”, Joe pointed out the obvious, grinning like a madman. That dick knew exactly what he was doing. You responded by giving him a light shove.

“Of course I’m gonna fall if you poke me in the side, Joseph. I’m ticklish.”, you huffed, feigning annoyance.

“Good to know.”, he countered with a wink.

Rolling your eyes, you wiggled out of his grasp and took the last few steps up the stairs to the door of your flat. Joe was hot on your heels, not wanting to be left behind.

“Uhm. Just so you know. My cats are very skittish and don’t really like strangers. Please don’t be offended if they don’t come to you straight away. They’re drama queens.”, you explained before inserting the key in the lock and slowly unlocking the door.

“Don’t worry. I won’t be.”, Joe smiled at you. He leaned his arm against the wall for support as he unzipped his boots to take them off. His tongue was sticking out in concentration. It made you snort a little, because you found it very endearing.

Gently, you pushed open the door and your cats immediately greeted you. As soon as they noticed someone else was standing there, they took off. Probably hiding under your bed.

“Told you.”, you said matter-of-factly before stepping aside to let Joe in. “The living room is this way.”, you pointed in its direction, “make yourself comfortable…uhm…do you want something to drink? What do you want?”

“What do you have to offer?”, Joe asked sweetly, not yet moving.

“I have water, both still and sparkling, tea…I should have beer…”, you listed, making your way over to the kitchen to check, leaving Joe standing in your narrow hallway.

“If you’ve got beer, I’ll have one.”, Joe called, following you.

“Shit. I’m out!”, you winced lowly after rummaging through your fridge. “I do have a liquor shelf though – holy FUCK. You scared me!”

Joe was standing right behind you as you turned away from the fridge. You hand’t expected him to follow you.

“I thought you’d gone into the living room.”, you explained frowning, hand covering your chest. Your heart was racing at a thousand miles a minute.

“Fuck. I’m sorry, Bambi.”, he apologised, mirroring your frown. He gently took your free hand in his and rubbed it softly to emphasise how bad he felt for scaring you.

“Alright...it’s alright.”, you murmured, slowly smiling at him and giving his hand a quick squeeze before taking yours from his grasp. “Would you like a drink instead of a beer?”

“Sure…uhm…a gin and tonic, maybe?”

“Gin and tonic coming right up.”, you announced, turning to your liquor shelf. “Go sit in the living room. I’ll be with you in a minute.”

“Alright.”, Joe chuckled and wandered off.

---

As you entered the living room, two gin and tonics in hand, you saw Joe coaxing Kiro over from the other side of the sofa. Your black panther of a cat was the braver of the two but totally unimpressed by Joe. The man in question clicked his tongue and stuck his pointer finger out at him.

With a low chuckle, you set the two drinks down on your coffee table and sat down in between them. Your addition to the scene awakened Kiro’s interest and he now ambled over to you and plopped himself down on your thighs.

Joe, who was now sporting a huge grin, slowly scooted closer to you and held his still outstretched forefinger directly under Kiro’s nose. The cat sniffed it and eventually gave it a lick. Joe had been approved.

Giggling, Joe moved his hand to the top of Kiro’s head and scratched it softly before pulling his hand away and grabbing his drink from the table instead. You had watched the whole interaction with a soft smile gracing your lips.

“Would you like to watch something on Netflix?”, you inquired, leaning forward carefully so as to not crush your cat, and grabbing both your drink and the remote.

“Sure. Anything obscure on there you haven’t seen?”, he asked, taking the first sip of his long drink and nodding in approval.

“Not really. I’m kind of in a mood for some nostalgic rom coms.”, you giggled as you launched the app. “I’m talking early 2000’s, baby.”

“Oookay. Whatever floats your boat.”, Joe chuckled and put his drink down again.

You chose the corniest one the streaming service had to offer, but before you hit play, you asked Joe to hand you the blankets that were draped over the settee’s armrest. Before you could drape one over yourself, Kiro jumped off your legs and sat down beside you.

“Do you want the other one?”, you asked Joe, holding it out to him.

“Sure. Thanks.”

You nodded at him as he gently pulled his blanket over his own legs.

Just as you were about to press play, Freya decided to show herself by sauntering lazily into the living room. When Joe saw her, he let out a small audible gasp. She decided to jump on the sofa, right between you and Joe. He immediately held out his hand to her as well. She sniffed it and then turned her behind to him. She opted for your legs instead.

Joe’s shoulders slumped in defeat, and you smiled at him apologetically. He just grinned and waved you off.

“She’ll get around to you…eventually.”, you promised and finally pressed play.

Less than twenty minutes into the film, Freya had had enough of your legs and moved over to Joe. There she scratched gently at the blanket. Joe looked at you with questioning eyes.

“She wants to go into the blanket cave.”, you explained. “Is that OK for you? If not, I can make one with my blanket.”

“Is that OK? Of course it’s OK!.”, Joe confirmed, face beaming and you leaned over to help him make it. Snug as a bug in a rug she now lay against Joe’s thigh, fully covered by his blanket. One of Joe’s hands was underneath the blanket as well, gently stroking her fur.

Surrounded by the warmth of two cats and a man, you grew more tired by the minute. It wasn’t even that late, only a quarter to five but your brain still hadn’t fully recovered yet and the circumstances you found yourself in didn’t really benefit your condition. You tried very hard to stay awake, but your eyes grew heavy, and your head was inching closer and closer to Joe’s shoulder, eventually landing on it.

Joe looked down at your sleeping form, moving as little as possible to make you more comfortable and not to disturb the cats. He wrapped an arm around you and pulled you a little closer, so that your head rested just below his collarbone. Unconsciously, you snuggled closer to him and let out a soft sigh. Joe grinned and continued to watch the film which he hadn’t followed at all.

He let you sleep like that even after the film had ended. You were snoring softly, and he found it to be very soothing whilst he tried to solve his sudoku on his phone. 45 minutes after the credits had finished rolling, he received a text message from his manager saying he had to get up early the next day due to a spontaneous work commitment all the way up in Scotland.

Groaning at the text, he pushed himself up a little, much to Freya’s dismay who now crawled out of her cave and glared at Joe.

“I’m sorry, girl. I didn’t mean to.”, he apologised, scratching her ear. Then he gently placed the palm of his hand on your cheek.

“Bambi…wake up.”

“No…five more minutes.”, you whined and tried to swat his hand away, making Joe snort out a laugh.

“Unfortunately, I have to go. I just got a text saying that I have to get up early. I’m needed in Scotland.”, he explained, rubbing his thumb along your jaw.

You slowly opened your eyes and mumbled something about another secret mission.

“That’s right…now come on.”

He moved his hands to your arms and slowly helped you up which irritated the two fur balls even more. Kiro toddled over the sofa cushion next to Freya and lay down again with a grunt.

“You just lost at least four brownie points in their book for that rude awakening.”, you muttered with a yawn and stretching your arms over your head.

“In yours or theirs?”

“Hmm.”, was all you replied, shrugging your shoulders.

“I’ll make it up to them.”, he grinned, gently petting them to say his goodbye. A little more awake than before, you smiled at him and made your way to the hallway to see him out.

After Joe had put on his coat and boots, he slowly turned to you.

“I’ve really enjoyed spending time with you, Bambi.”

“Likewise.”, you retorted having grown rather fond of his silly nickname for you. Slowly, you pushed yourself up on your tiptoes and wrapped your arms around his shoulders, burying your face in the crook of his neck. Gently, he returned the embrace, and swayed you in his arms for a couple of moments.

Pulling back a little, you stared into his deep caramel eyes, a soft smile tickling at the corners of your lips. Smiling himself, he stared back down at you, lowering his face until you were nose to nose. Joe then gently tilted his head, brushed his nose against yours, causing you turn up your nose a slightly. Your reaction made Joe grin even wider, and you took the opportunity to close the distance, pressing your lips tenderly against his.

He immediately reciprocated the kiss and sweetly pecked your lips a few of times which made you open your mouth just a little. Taking this as an invitation to go further, Joe gently nibbled at your lips and finally captured them passionately with his.

Breathing heavily, you both reluctantly pulled away, resting your foreheads against each other. You took one hand from around his shoulders and ran your fingers delicately along your bottom lip. Both his and your cheeks were slightly rose-tinted, and Joe’s ears were glowing red. He quickly placed another soft peck to your fingertips and gingerly let go of you.

“I’ve got a train to catch.”, he whispered, and you nodded, reaching behind him to unlock the door. He took a step back into the stairwell and turned back around to where you were standing in the doorway, the blush still evident on your face. Joe took a step back towards you and gave you one final peck to your lips.

“Let’s do this again, Bambi.”, he winked, making you giggle again.

“Get home safe.”

“I will.”

“Text me?”, you inquired, crossing your arms around your middle.

“Of course.”, he promised as he descended the stairs. You watched him disappear before you opened your mouth again.

“Bye!”, you called after him.

“Bye, Bambi!”, he called back, and you eventually heard the front door slam shut far too loudly. This was in no way Joe’s fault but the doors itself. The mechanism was broken.

Turning around, you quickly closed the door and ran into your living room to look out the window. You caught him just in time to see him disappear around the corner. Smiling to yourself, you touched your lips again. Your smile turned into a snort and finally into a full laugh.

Oh, you so were gonna do this again.

The End

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