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skzdarlings · 2 months

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vexatious vixen ; felix x reader ; part 2/2

masterlist.

PART 2/2. READ PART 1 HERE. ( READ ON AO3. )

You always get what you want. When an unassuming security guard named Felix stops your latest venture, you escalate the stakes until he has no choice but to put you in your place.

pairing: lee felix/reader content info: romantic comedy. strangers to enemies to lovers. cat-and-mouse. dom/sub dynamics, dom!felix and sub!reader. brat tamer!felix and brat!reader. everything that transpires is fully consensual with implied conversations on kink preferences, and an established colour safeword system before the scene. that being said, they still get a lil kinky. please heed the following content warnings: fear kink/cnc, hiding, chasing, lots and lots of dirty talk, fingering, blow jobs, face fucking, throat fucking, a little bit of crying, penetrative sex. (protected but dirty talk like it's not.)

(chapter word count: 7750 words.)

enjoy! <3

The gentlest nip of a summer breeze moves through the settling blue darkness. Everything feels romantic. Everything except the handcuffs chaining you to Felix, Security Guard of the Year, Man of the People, and Defender of Propriety and Pop Star Penis.

Felix does not look at you as he drags you away from the stadium. He smiles sweetly at passersby, doing his best to hide the handcuffs no thanks to your flamboyant gesticulations, but it dissolves again to that grim, determined countenance.

Felix has an interesting face, so many sharp lines, but the overall effect is somehow delicate. A body of contradictions, slender but strong, a stark masculinity rippling beneath the glittery prettiness he happily indulges in. Blue hair should not look that good on anyone, but you doubt anything could make him look bad. He sparkles like the glitter star on his cheek.

You poke that cheek. A muscle in his jaw twitches. He looks at you sideways, all pretty brown eyes and a constellation of even prettier freckles.

“Do not,” he says.

“Do not what?”

“Just. Do not.”

You obey his demand for silence. For about six seconds.

“So how long have you been a security guard?” you ask amiably.

“You’re really trying to have a normal conversation with me,” he says. “Now? After that introduction?”

“I prefer the term meet-cute.”

“We wrestled on the ground then you handcuffed us together and threw away the key—”

“Adorable.”

“Right.” He picks up his speed. You could easily keep pace but you decide to stagger along like he is too fast for you, whining as he drags you behind him. Felix sighs but slows his pace. To your surprise, he answers your question. “A month,” he says. “I’ve been working there a month.”

“And you’re already gunning for CEO,” you say. “Considering how dedicated you are to bringing justice—”

He slams to a stop. Your chain jingles when you collide, hands smacking together. He faces you. Wisps of blue escape from his half-ponytail to dance across his face.

“I already told you,” he says. “My job is checking tickets. Chasing you down was my personal pleasure.”

“You’re a sick bastard,” you say.

He smiles. It is a gentle smile, seemingly sympathetic out of nowhere, his eyes softening with the lift of his brow. He has an uncanny ability to make softness more threatening than roughness. It gives you a shiver.

“Let me guess,” he says. “You don’t have a job, do you, sweetheart? You can’t hold one down. You don’t know how. Your parents have money and it’s nice, sure, but they were overbearing your whole childhood, weren’t they? Until one day they decided you were grown and just stopped caring. And now you’re out in the world with no more rules and you don’t know how to deal with it. Except by acting out. It’s fun, right? Looking for trouble. Makes you feel something for a minute. Because even though you have everyone fooled into thinking you’re this wild and carefree person, you’re locked up inside. You’re not scared of consequences because you’re already trapped. Oh, uhh, stop me if I’m getting cold, yeah?”

You just stare as he blithely runs his pretty mouth.

“You don’t really care about the prize, it’s just about the chase,” he continues. “You told me I was a good boy, yeah? Your words. And you think you’re bad. A bad, bad girl,” his deep voice drops even more, like the heavy-handed thud of a low blow, striking some place intimate inside you, “but that’s not really true, is it?”

He smiles that particular smile again, full of affection and tenderness, an expression that is completely alien to your brash and aggressive nature.

“Deep, deep down, you just want to be good,” he says. “But you need to earn it to enjoy it, don’t you? You need someone to tell you that you can, that it’s okay. But you don’t make it easy. And you’ve been running for so long, you probably can’t even remember how it feels when someone cares enough to catch you.”

You suddenly feel the weight of the handcuffs. You expected this dull pretty boy to have a hidden mean streak to rival your own, not for him to blast through your barriers and drag your innermost thoughts to the surface. To say nothing of his perfect speculation on your background.

“So what, you’re some kind of stalker with a philosophy major?” you ask.

He is still smiling.

He laughs, a low chuckle. He looks like a star, glittering silver and blue in the moonlight.

“No, I’m not,” he says. “I’m just the same as you. Vexatious, apparently, because I’m all smiles all the time. Just so good, you know?” He is almost theatrical in tone. “Of course, that’s technically the opposite of you. Isn’t it?”

When you don’t answer, he touches your chin, just his fingertips. It is still enough to guide your face to his, locking eyes.

“I said, isn’t it?” he asks, his tone sharper.

If he is insinuating that you are only pretending to be bad, then that means he is only pretending to be good. If you are secretly good, then he is secretly—

His mouth hovers close to yours. He abruptly steps back.

Oh. You blink quickly. Yes. Of course. It is always the real bad boys who take care to be good, isn’t it? He does not need to flaunt it. He can just smile at you.

“Come on,” he says, interlocking your fingers with his. He tugs you along, humming to himself as he leads you down the street. So seemingly innocent. Grinning to himself like the cheshire cat.

You stare at those freckles, the glitter stars, his dimples.

A vexatious vixen, indeed.

“So that Jisung guy,” you say. “The one who gave you these handcuffs. He thinks you’re a nice guy who needs some adventure in his life. It was just a prank gift and he thought he was being funny.”

“Yup,” Felix says, popping the sound.

“Little does he know you’re actually some sick and twisted pervert,” you say.

“Tsk,” he says, looking at you with a cheeky grin, as if to say what a silly girl you are. “I’m not sick. See, unlike you who bothers everyone whether they like or not, I only chase the ones who like to run. Twisted, on the other hand… well…”

The handcuffs jingle, strung around your joined hands like the red string of fate. You look at each other, starlight on your faces, a noisy arena behind you and a game ahead of you.

You smile back at him.

You still intend to win.

It is a twenty minute walk. Your conversation weaves around implications, some very forthright flirtations, and a couple scandalizing explanations. Despite his previous goading, Felix is far more reserved in his desires. He blinks when you describe a very dirty scenario and get detailed. Very, very detailed.

“Um, right,” he says. “Fun as that sounds, I’m pretty sure that constitutes as a human rights violation.”

“So?”

“I, uhh, prefer to do things that don’t get me put on an Interpol watch list.”

“Coward.”

You nonetheless accept this and describe a totally different scenario. He looks a little wan.

“Where would I get a rocket launcher?” he asks when you are finished.

“I dunno, get creative. My friend Seungmin once—oh shit, my friends!”

“Wait, huh? Your friend Seungmin has a rocket launcher…?”

You take out your phone to find a gathering collection of texts from Seungmin and Minho, ranging from teasing you about losing your touch to asking if you got arrested and they need to bail you out. Your friends are a nightmare which is why you like them, but they always get you out of trouble in the end.

You confirm you are safe, that you already left, and that you are trying to have sex with a hot, insane, kinky sadist of a security guard.

“You know I can read everything you are typing right now,” Felix says. “I am standing right beside you. You’re typing with a hand literally attached to mine.”

“Well, mind your own business.” You do not bother hiding your texts.

“You are giving them my name and address,” Felix replies. “It sounds like my business.”

“Well, it’s not. We’ve already established the world revolves around me. You’re the supporting character, pal.”

“Right,” he says. He blinks at the screen. In a more serious voice, he asks, “Do you want the postal code too?”

It never hurts to be thorough. You type the address and send it to the boys.

Good thing you waxed, Seungmin writes.

Felix squints at the screen and tilts his head like a curious cat. “You waxed for a concert?” he asks, giving you a once-over. “What did you think was gonna—”

“I am prepared for every eventuality,” you interrupt. “It’s why I always win.”

He holds up your handcuffed wrists and cocks an eyebrow. “Is this what you call winning?” he asks.

You smirk, your whole expression bright despite the suggestive wiggling of your eyebrows. “Matter of opinion, I suppose,” you say. “And my opinion is the only one that matters.”

“Right,” he says, forcing a frown. Despite his efforts, a smile is tugging at his lips. He suffices to roll his eyes and march ahead, yanking you along behind him. “Come on,” he says. “We’re almost there.”

Once your friends have your information, you put your phone in your little purse. You turn the corner and find yourself looking at an absolutely gorgeous house. Your jaw drops as Felix leads you up the driveway. It is an ostentatious design to say the least. You pass a gate mounted with two lion statues.

“Not my style,” he says when you gawk at the stone kitties. “This place belongs to my parents. They usually rent it out but they let me live here while I go to school.”

“So you weren’t kidding,” you say, a funny sensation in your chest and stomach. “About your background, I mean. You and me really are alike.”

You realize the sensation in your chest is an inkling of feelings. Genuine, heart-felt, soul-stirring feelings. You look at Felix and see a lot of yourself, though he is like a mirror version, exactly the same and completely the opposite. It makes you huff, holding a hand to your stomach like you can control the butterflies there.

“What’s wrong?” Felix asks, pausing at the front door.

“When was the last time you had a feeling?” you ask.

“A… feeling?” he asks. He stands silent for a long moment. When he realizes you are not going to elaborate, he asks, “What kind of feeling?”

“Just a feeling,” you say. “You know.”

“Uhh.” He blinks quickly. “I have feelings all the time. Every day.”

“Wow,” you say. “That sounds exhausting. Explains a lot about you.”

“All right.” He shakes his head. He reaches into his back pocket and fishes out a set of house keys, twirling them around his fingers until he finds the right one.

“Wouldn’t it be funny if I threw those keys too?” you ask.

He gives you an exasperated look. You grin.

With a shake of his head, he sighs and unlocks the door. The foyer lights flicker to life and the house alarm starts ringing. It gives you a punch of adrenaline which has the predictable effect of getting your blood pumping. Your body does not know the difference between fear and desire. You have only been here two seconds but you are already licking your lips.

Felix is none-the-wiser. He flips open the alarm panel and punches in a code. It beeps and goes quiet. You look at each other in the soft golden glow of the foyer lamplight. He still looks stupidly pretty, blue hair and glitter, sleeveless shirt and jeans. Unassuming, gentle, sweet. Not at all like he could throw you over his shoulder or manhandle you in the grass. ��But he can. He did.

“Come on,” he says, tugging on the chain between you.

You feign disinterest but your eyes scour his space. You pass through the kitchen where there is an array of baking utensils drying in the dishes rack. The entire kitchen is clearly maintained with great care. The rest of the space is a little chaotic, shelves and desks and units overflowing with technological equipment that you can neither recognize nor name.

“I build computers,” he says, catching you staring at the pile of miscellaneous parts. “Sorry for the mess. I wasn’t expecting company.”

This is uttered dryly and you wave it away. You do not want to admit you find it somewhat endearing. Your hobbies primarily consist of keeping the local PD on their toes, but you appreciate the practice of a craft. It only adds another layer to this weird dude, pretty but athletic but intelligent but ridiculous but charming but geeky. And just as competitive and crazy and freaky as you.

“Bedroom’s this way,” he says. “And, uh, don’t get any ideas.”

“Too late,” you answer, though truthfully your filthier fantasies are fracturing in wake of the reality of him. The computers, the baking tools, the wall of games and consoles, collectible toys and ughhh why did he have to be kind of adorable and secretly have a personality. Mutual objectification is more your style. Not quivering under a gentle touch and feeling… feelings.

“You look like you are thinking way too hard,” Felix says, pausing at his bedroom door. “It’s freaky.”

“Not thinking anything,” you say, because you are too busy feeling to be thinking. Ugh. You shake it off and push open his bedroom door.

He shakes his head and leads you in. He has a pretty elaborate gaming setup, the rest of the room plain in comparison. His bed is neatly made and you cannot help but envision a mess of sheets. Yes. That is more your thing. Taking that sweet and gentle façade and corrupting it, right down to the core. You want him to lose control. You want to drive him crazy. You want to draw this out, use the handcuffs and—

“Aha,” he says. “Right here.”

He pulls open a bedside drawer. A pair of handcuffs is sitting inside it, the key right on top. He takes it out and immediately unlocks you.

The cuffs fall to the floor. He scoops them up and jingles them in your face.

You stare at them then slowly meet his gaze.

“Oh,” you say. “You evil son of a bitch.”

He looks at you with a soft little pout, like he cannot imagine why you would be upset and you are hurting his oh-so sensitive feelings. But he knew you wanted to play him. He knew you wanted the handcuffs a little longer. Now there is no reason to linger. Now you can just walk out the door and never see him again.

He is going to make you ask for it.

That is not your style. You hate being out-smarted. And you really, really, really hate losing.

“Right,” you say. “I guess that’s it then.”

“Guess so,” he says. “Bye.”

“Bye.”

You are still standing in his bedroom. It is dark but there is an elaborate lighting rig around his computer, all bright blue neon and blinking lights. You are swimming in blue, breathing it in. His hair, the room, and moonlight.

You will never see this colour the same way again. Of that much you are certain.

“Blue,” you say.

His brow crinkles. “Blue?” he repeats.

“Mm.” You look around the room, pretending you are unbothered by the intensity of his gaze. “Red. Yellow. Green. Colours can say a lot, don’t you think?”

“Yes,” he says, exhaled on a breath. The neon light catches the little star on his cheek, glinting at you. He is dazzling. This moment is larger than life.

You take a step back, holding his gaze.

“Red for stop, yellow for slow down, green for go…” you drawl, backing out of his room. “It’s amazing what you can say with just a colour…”

“Uh-huh,” he says. He looks at you like he did at the arena, maybe even more intensely. Now he knows what you are capable of doing. Now you understand each other.

He follows you, assessing every step you take. There is a subtle flex to the lean muscles of his arms, reminding you that while he is beautiful, he is also capable of more.

“And what does blue mean?” he asks. “To you?”

You walk backwards, an unspoken understanding that once you turn your back, the game begins. So you hold his gaze, smirking, inviting. The foyer lights flash on and gold light fills the space between you, casting shadows across your smiling faces.

He walks like a predatory cat, slow and smooth. His confidence is easy. He needs no grand display of machoism. He just smiles that pretty pink mouth. The glitter on his cheek sparkles.

“Blue is the colour we show on the outside,” you say, “when deep down we really want something else.”

“I see,” he says. Abruptly, his intensity vanishes when he laughs and says, “Put it back.”

Somehow, despite diverting his attention, he still saw your slight-of-hand. You swiped the closest object, a little jewel-encrusted clock on the nearby table. You waited until your body obscured the view but he still saw.

He can read you that easily, predict your moves that well. Because it is not as though he loves the clock. It stands out from his things, clearly one of the ostentatious designs, courtesy of his parents. You can read him that easily too. He does not like gaudy, shiny little knick-knacks. He likes neon and blue and you.

“Put what back?” you ask. You have reached the front door. Your hands are behind your back, the bauble in one, the other twisting the doorknob.

“I’m not gonna ask twice,” he says.

You push the door open.

“I’ll give it back, if that’s what you really want,” you say. With a suggestive little smirk, you ask, “So what’s your colour?”

Red to stop. Yellow to pause. Green to give in.

“Blue,” he says. To play.

You smile. You hold up the bauble, wink, then zip it into your purse.

“In that case,” you say, “you’ll have to catch me first.”

His expression changes in an instant, that playful giggling gone as quickly as it came. He breathes and it fills him, makes him look sturdy, makes him look ready.

“Sweetheart,” he says. “Don’t make me do this.”

The softness of the pet name is completely undone by the dark tone of his voice. There is nothing soft about him. He is ice cold blue and burning red heat at once, searing you with his eyes, the way they rove your whole body. You feel each glance. A shiver races down your spine. Instinctively, your body braces itself, fearful of that voice and that gaze.

It also gets you so, so hot.

All that tension snaps.

You turn and run, bolting down the driveway and past the fancy gate. You are quick on your feet, practiced and lithe. You show him no mercy this time. Earlier you were unprepared, severely misjudging his capabilities, but you will not make the same mistake again.

You glance over your shoulder. He is no where to be seen so you slow your pace, bemused.

A minute later, he comes tearing around the corner and your heart starts pumping again. Just like back at the arena, he grins as he thunders after you.

An instinctive little yelp leaves your mouth. You resume your pace, booking it for the corner of the block. There is a little patch of green park so you run there, disappearing between the bushes.

It seemed like a good idea but the streetlight barely breaks the thick tree branches. It is darker and eerier here, genuine fright overcoming you. You come to a clumsy stop, fumbling with your purse to grab your phone. A flashlight will stop you tripping, but it will also lead Felix right to you.

You hear him behind you, clambering through the bushes. Your heart leaps. The darkness makes you forget this is all pretend. You run without a light, dashing down the narrow path and squinting for even a glimpse of street light. You need to get out of the bushes otherwise you risk falling on your face, then he will be right on top of you in seconds. But running on the road will expose you too quickly.

You will not surrender that easily. He knows that.

Torn between the garden and the road, you get a brilliant idea. You dash back onto the street and hope it takes him a minute to follow. He is not behind you so you race back to his house.

There is no way he will circle back here. He knows you want a chase, so a chase is what he anticipates. He would never guess you ran back into his house. Oh, you can’t wait for the look on his face when he finds you perched on his bed, feigning boredom as you wait.

You run back up the driveway. The front door is closed and you crash right into it, assuming it would be unlocked. Nope. He locked it. Maybe that is why he was delayed.

You spin around, halfway expecting to find him there, ready to push you up against his door and cage you in. But no, you are still winning. He is undoubtedly still running through those bushes. He will circle the whole block before heading back here.

You hurry down the side of the house, looking for any open windows. You do not think he had time to set the alarm. Did he? Maybe that is why he was so far behind.

The side gate is unlocked so you slip into the backyard. You come to a surprised stop because it is a beautiful landscape. The greenery is pristine and there are little couches and chairs scattered around. There is a shed, some storage trunks, a fire pit. In the middle of everything is a pool, sparkling blue in the golden lamplight. Of course.

You do not rush. You cross the yard in a slow walk, taking a moment to catch your breath. You strategize your next move. Should you pose on one of the pool chairs? Wait by his back door and knock when he gets home?

Your thoughts are interrupted by a low hum. Someone is making their way down the side of the house.

You panic. You are often caught scampering around places you are not supposed to be, so instinct propels you to hide. You run to one of the storage trunks and duck behind it.

No sooner have you hidden does Felix stroll into the backyard. He is a little dishevelled, a few strands of hair escaping from his half-ponytail, but he seems mostly unbothered. He moves at a leisurely pace, humming to himself as he swings the gate open.

He pauses there, leaning against the tall fence. You are quite certain the world has never been this quiet.

“I know you’re here,” Felix says, his deep voice shattering the silence.

Your heart leaps into your throat. You should have known better. Of course he had the same idea as you. Now what? How can you outsmart someone who can predict your every move?

You peek around the storage trunk. Felix is smiling, all dimples and delight. Even his eyes are glittering as he swings the gate shut. He looks across the yard as he curls his fist around the padlock. He slams it shut, effectively locking you in with him.

So that is why he took so long. He unlocked the gate before giving chase. He laid a trap and you ran right into it.

His walk is more of a prowl, a slow but steady tread across the grass.

“Come out, come out,” he sing-songs, uncannily chipper.

You cannot believe you are about to be beaten so quickly. It has your head spinning, your heart racing from your run, your adrenaline pounding as he approaches.

Your heart tempers itself when he stops. He pokes his head around the fire pit to see if you are hiding there.

“Sweetheart,” he says, casting his gaze around the yard. “You don’t need to hide. I promise I’m not mad.” He strolls around the pool, looking from here to there, even up at the trees. He hums thoughtfully to himself. “Now, now… If I was a troublemaker who needed to learn a lesson, where would I hide…” He ducks behind a pool chair, frowning. “Hmm, hmm, hmm…”

He stands for a minute, tapping his chin. You want to glean some semblance of your surroundings, but you do not want to take your eyes off him. You are convinced if you do, he will manifest right beside you. So you look at the house then at him, the gate then at him, the trees then at him. You almost want to scream. He is not even moving and he has you completely captivated, every last sense in your body attuned to him.

“Pleeeeease,” he says in a long drawl, a cute little tone. He ambles over to a different storage trunk and lifts the lid. “I promise I won’t hurt you.”

He slams the lid down so hard it makes the unit wobble. Even though you are far away, it makes you jump. You have to cover your mouth to stop a yelp from escaping.

You stare as he leans over the other unit, peering behind it. He huffs in frustration when he finds nothing. Despite the angry grimace, when he stands upright, he is wearing that saccharine smile.

“You’re hurting my feelings, sweetheart,” he says. “I thought we were turning into friends. Don’t you want to be my friend?”

He flings a chair out of his way, then swiftly drops to his knees to peer under the picnic table. He is getting closer, bit by bit, which is somehow more terrifying than if he beelined right at you.

He is giving you time, you realize. He wants you worked up. He wants your heart racing. He wants you quivering and soft and afraid.

You look around frantically, searching for an escape.

Your hope rises then plummets. The back door is ajar but that is an obvious trap. It leads into the house but there is no way you are crossing the yard without him seeing you.

You jump at another slam. It was the shed door. He is stepping inside it, rifling through the yard tools in case you are crouched inside.

“Come on,” he says into the shed. “Don’t be scared.”

You take a deep breath. You have only seconds to cross the yard while his back is turned. You do not waste another moment, jumping to your feet and running as quietly and as quickly as you can.

He is just as quiet. You shriek at the sudden arm that catches you, just like it did at the arena. Felix tackles you onto the grass again, pushing you down on your back and covering your mouth.

You wrestle him, just like last time, ignoring his laughter as you claw and bite at him.

“You’re a little mean, you know that?” he says, waving his hand after narrowing dodging your teeth. He dives back in, undeterred, grabbing your face in one hand. “Yeah, that’s it,” he says. “Fight me. Brat.”

You do not surrender easily, but he manhandles you with the same effortless skill as before. There is no doubt he has training that you lack, flipping you in his arm then pushing you down on your front. You kick your legs as he straddles your backside. He brings your hands together on the base of your spine.

You know what is coming and it makes you shriek with frustration. Just like last time, he slaps the handcuffs on your wrists and locks your hands behind your back.

“You stupid little—” you start, your words stifled when he puts his hand over your mouth and yanks your head up. He holds the handcuff key in front of your face, then makes a show of throwing it. You are pretty sure it is still in his fist, but the very idea has you whimpering into his palm.

“That’s better,” he says, slowly taking his hand off your mouth. It hovers like he expects you to start screaming. You just exhale heavily, glaring. “All right,” he says. “Very good. Come on.”

You play at obedience long enough to get off the ground. He helps you stand, then you immediately kick at him. He tries to grab your leg but you dodge the swipe of his hand, running the opposite way.

Your balance is thrown, dizzy from the takedown and the handcuffs. He catches you quickly. You yelp when he sweeps you off your feet, boasting all that hidden strength again.

He carries you over to the deck where he drops down, sitting with his legs spread to fit you in between. With your back to his front, he pulls you against him, an arm across your chest to keep you pinned together.

“Oh fuck you,” you say, wriggling helplessly.

“Not quite,” he says, laughing. “I’ve been picturing something else.”

He covers your mouth again, catching your shriek when he tugs your shirt open. The flannel falls down your shoulders and he yanks the tank top down, getting a handful of everything you inadvertently flashed him earlier.

Despite the force of his initial touch, he is not rough. You might have kept your cool if he was; you are used to rough, fast, hard. But his hand is tender, almost loving, a slow touch that trails from your neck down your chest, thumb circling the peak of your nipple before he squeezes your curves in the cup of his hand. It is maddeningly slow and careful, your whining trapped in the palm of his hand.

“This is what I was picturing,” he says. It sounds like a growl, his deep tone just above a rough whisper. His lips graze your ear and you shiver.

You gasp, taking in deep gulps of air when he frees your mouth. A weak whimper is all you manage when he hooks his legs around yours and pries them apart. His hand dives down to your shorts, making swift work of the buttons.

“Yup, just what I thought,” he says as his fingers sink inside you. “Do you feel that?” he asks, as if your attention could be on anything but the thorough, rolling touch of his fingers, torturing the sensitive bundle of nerves between your legs. He slides his fingers into you with no resistance whatsoever. He starts finger-fucking you, laughing when you moan, when you rear up under his hand for more. “Mmm, yeah, you want it don’t you?” You try to resist but it is hard, especially when he teases you, making you chase him with your hips. He just laughs again, slowing his touch maddeningly. “God, that’s hot,” he says. “You might be a brat but your pussy... It’s begging for it, isn’t it? Does it like this, sweetheart, hmm? Hmm?”

He is absolutely torturing you, rubbing those swollen nerves to the crest of an orgasm then withdrawing, again and again, until you swear it burns. You make a strangled sound, clutching his hand on your chest, still cupped possessively on your naked breast.

“Tell me,” he says. “Tell me how much you want me to make you come.”

“Mmmph,” is your oh-so intelligent reply.

“You can do better than that,” he says. “Come on. Show me how much you want it. You can’t lie to me, sweetheart. I can feel it, hmm? Gonna feel it when you come. Gonna feel your pussy get nice and tight around my fingers, asking for it, baby—oh yeah, what’s that? What’s it want?”

“Ugh, fuck you,” you whine.

“Nuh-uh, sweetheart,” he says. “Fuck you. You can run that pretty mouth but I know what you really need. You’re gonna be begging me for my cock, to fill you up and make you feel all full for real. Isn’t that right? Go on. Show me you want it. Show me.”

Your chest is heaving. Your eyes close. You concentrate on that orgasm, chasing it desperately. It approaches rapidly and your thighs start shaking.

He covers your mouth again, once more predicting you. He knows you are about to come. This time he takes you right over, groaning in your ear, clutching you tight while never once slowing the deft thrust of his hand. You scream into his palm, the intensity of the orgasm washing over you. The blue light of the pool flickers even with your eyes closed, seeing nothing but blue, blue, blue. He surrounds you, his voice, his moans, his touch.

Your hips buck, your heart skipping a frantic beat when pleasure turns to sensitivity. He chuckles but stops, dropping his hand off your mouth. You catch your breath, slumping against his chest.

He touches your face with the hand he just used to fuck you, wet fingers streaking across your mouth as he turns your head. You blink at him and part your lips just for him to shove his fingers in your mouth. You cannot help but moan, eyes closing as you suck the tangy wetness right off his fingers. You watch when he takes them back, when he licks them for himself. Strands of blue fall across his forehead. He looks as flushed and filthy as you feel.

He grins around his fingers. Then he grabs the back of your neck and pulls your face to his. He kisses you for the first time with the taste of your pussy on both your mouths. His kiss is deep and bold, as if you are already his. You are dizzy when he stops, gasping when he pecks your lips with sweet, chaste little kisses.

“Gonna uncuff you now,” he says softly. “Because for what we do next…” He grabs you by the throat and you mewl, clenching around nothing when he rolls his hips under you, showing you how hard he is. “Yeah, sweetheart. For that, I need all of you.”

You sit quietly while he uncuffs you. You feign complacency, standing on shaky legs when he guides you upright. You fix your shirt, glaring at him, though it is a little harder while you are still catching your breath.

He was right about one thing; you need him like you have never needed anyone. You are throbbing, completely and totally aching with the loss of his touch. You have never felt such clear pulsations, your body begging for more even while your expression is petulant.

You follow him to the open door. One step, two steps.

Then you say, “Blue.”

You take off running into the house.

He laughs incredulously, not even making an attempt to grab you.

He slams the door shut behind him. You skid to a stop in the hall, listening to the gentle beeping of the alarm as he arms it from the inside. It is the same quiet threat as the padlock; there is no escape.

Giddy, excited, practically vibrating with anticipation, you run and hide. There are boxes and tables piled high with gadgetry, not to mention his couch and bookshelves and general appliances. Plenty more places to hide than that big back yard. And when he finally does find you, when you have worked him up the way he worked you up—

That is what winning is all about.

You sit in your hiding place, breathing hard.

“Sweetheart,” Felix says in that too-sweet voice. His footsteps are slow, unhurried, casual. “Stop hiding. I said I didn’t want to hurt you, but if you keep this up…”

You peer at him between some boxes. He stops in the middle of the room, catching his breath too. The glittering amusement has left his eyes. They are narrowed, his flushed cheeks and sweaty hairline only exacerbating his predatory air.

He unties his half-ponytail, then bends over to run his fingers through the length of it. He flips back up, all that blue falling prettily in place. He licks his lips as he prowls through the room, looking behind boxes, ducking under tables.

You shuffle with him, moving when he does. He checks your previous hiding space with a jaunty, “A-ha!” then curses.

“Come on now,” he says, turning around. He smiles like a shark, all teeth, hungry despite the innocent flash of a dimple. “You’re only hurting yourself,” he says. “I know you, sweetheart. You’re in here somewhere, and you can’t tell me you’re not thinking about what it’s gonna feel like when I catch you, yeah? Hmm. You’re fast. I bet you’re flexible too. I bet I can get you into all sorts of positions. Get you making all sorts of noises for me…”

It is a struggle to be quiet as you move. Your limbs are still shaky. Every word out of his mouth makes your breath catch.

You swallow hard, freezing when he pauses. Did he hear that? Maybe not. He turns the other way, heaving a deep sigh before he laughs. It lacks amusement, a harsh sound as he turns and turns.

“Come out, come out,” he sing-songs. In a harder voice, he snaps, “Stop hiding from me.” Then he smiles again. He turns in your direction slowly. “You’re not scared of me, are you?”

You cover your mouth, cowering down when he seems to look right at you. Your heart is pounding so hard, you would not be surprised if he could hear it, even feel it, shaking this whole damn house.

“If you come out on your own,” he says, “I promise to make you feel good. You’ll come so hard, you’ll forget how scared you are.”

You keep that hand over your mouth, fighting to keep quiet. It stifles a shriek when he suddenly waves at you, a drole little finger-wiggle.

“Come on, sweetheart,” he says. He crouches down, putting himself at eye-level, peering between the boxes that shield you. “Don’t make me come get you,” he says. “I’ve been nice, haven’t I? Don’t make me do something we’ll both regret.”

You shuffle to the side. He slaps a hand over his face, shaking his head while he laughs.

“Right,” he says. “Fine. We’ll do it that way.”

You bolt when he does, shrieking as you clamber around some equipment to get away. You manage to escape to the foyer, cursing when the automatic lights flash on. It feels like a spotlight, illuminating you in the middle of that big empty space with no where to hide.

You can hear Felix stomping after you. You scurry into the kitchen, looking around frantically for somewhere to hide.

You yelp when he bursts in behind you. This time, he does not give. He grabs you roughly when you try to run again. With very little effort, like you are scarcely more than a mild inconvenience, he lifts you off your feet and slings you over his shoulder. He says nothing while you curse and squirm and slap his back.

“You know what I wonder?” he eventually says, marching you right into the bedroom. “I wonder… if I make you cry, is that gonna make you tighter, you think?” He slides you down his body, holding you flush against him. He smiles. “Worth a shot, no?”

And then he handcuffs your wrist to his wrist and tosses the key across the room.

“Oops,” he says.

He grabs your throat and you gasp, spilling onto the bed when he pushes you. He puts your on your back then straddles your chest, swiftly unbuttoning his jeans.

“Open up,” he says, practically prying your mouth open, just giggling when you bite at him. “If you bite me,” he says, two fingers shoved deep in your mouth, “I promise, I’ll give you something to be fucking scared of.”

You were right. You will never see the colour blue the same way again. You will never be able to settle for anything less than Felix again.

With a whimpery sigh, you relent, blissful as your mouth falls open. He shoves his clothes out of his way, just enough. He is rock hard and wet at the tip when he guides your mouth around his dick. He cradles your head gently, even if the rest of him is not gentle.

You moan, your pussy literally twitching for attention as he shoves into your throat and makes your eyes water. You take him well and he groans, pulsing in your mouth when tears start running down your face. He fucks your mouth and throat, a back and forth that has your seeing stars. Eventually he pulls back, laughing as runs his fingers through his hair.

“Oh, baby,” he says. He reaches down to wipe a tear. “I wanted to do that the second you started mouthing off to me.”

“Asshole,” you say, though it comes out with a giggle.

He laughs, sliding down your body to get between your legs. He gets your shorts and underwear out of his way, kissing across your pussy and up your stomach. He lifts your shirt and crosses your breasts with his mouth, leaving little bite marks in his wake.

With the hand cuffed to yours, he interlocks your fingers sweetly, pressing it into the mattress. Then he swoops up. He kisses you, his tongue a soothing touch after everything.

You moan, literally shaking with need as he smiles against your lips. He speaks in that low, rasping voice when he says, “I can’t wait to see the look on your face when you realize you’re gonna come all over my cock.”

“Oh god,” is your rough reply.

“It’s Felix,” he says. “You’re gonna be screaming it in a second, aren’t you, sweetheart?”

He has a condom in his bedside drawer. Though you see him put it on, he still leans down to dirty talk, holding your throat as he whispers, “Was gonna be nice and wrap it, but you don’t like it nice, do you?” He spreads your legs with his own, pushing down with his hips. You whimper when the head of his cock glides over where you are very wet and very needy. “No, sweetheart,” he says. “I’m gonna have all of you. And you – are gonna – take it.”

He punctuates this with short thrusts, gradually easing inside you. You moan, canting your hips to meet him, needing more. When he starts fucking you in earnest, your whole body gets pliant like it never has before. You let him hold you, tethered to him by the handcuffs and something else, something to do with those feelings inside you. You let them melt into the physical sensations. When he touches you, working you into an orgasm while he is deep inside you, it all washes over you. You come with a cry, screaming his name just like he said.

“Yeah, that’s it,” he says. Your bodies are flush together, chests touching, your legs wrapped tightly around his waist. His face is in your neck when he laughs. It is not a fake laugh, not coloured darkly, but ringing with true amusement. “What’s your name?” he asks.

You laugh too, whispering it against his mouth when he leans in to kiss you. He groans, kissing you, and says your name against your lips when he comes. It binds you to him more effectively than the handcuffs.

You lay there for some time afterward, all that pent-up adrenaline taking its time to dwindle. He lays on your chest, your free hand in his hair, stroking it. Eventually he looks at you with wide eyes.

“I’m not, you know, like that, I mean—” he says.

“I know,” you reply, massaging the nape of his neck. You get uncharacteristically bashful. Usually your partners, being more dominant, are the ones offering consolation to you, and you seldom need much. Felix, you can tell, needs something, and it draws something out of you that you hardly knew existed. Something tender and soft, that enjoys touching him and soothing him and making him smile.

“Do you still have that, uh, feeling?” he later asks.

You nod. He smiles.

“Me too,” he says.

“That’s nice. Can we get the handcuff key now?” you ask, making him laugh.

The handcuffs end up on the floor with your clothes.

This is usually the part where you run away, but you think you are done with running for a while. You lay down with Felix, side by side, washed in the neon blue light. You take a breath and roll onto his chest, resting your head there, and he runs a hand down your back in a soft caress.

“I’m just glad I didn’t wax for no reason,” you break the silence, making him snort. He slaps a hand over his face, shaking his head. “What! Don’t look at me like that or I’ll try and sneak into another concert when you’re on the clock.”

“Mm, will you?” he asks, grinning. “I better be prepared.”

“Oh no, I’m not messing with you. I’m picking an easier target next time.”

“I’ll find you anyway,” he says. “Can’t hide from me, sweetheart.”

“Hmm,” you say, hiding your face because that squishy feeling in your chest is back. “I still won this round.”

He lifts your face so he can look at you. Your eyes close when he swoops in and kisses you. You can’t even pretend to be annoyed with him anymore. Vexatious vixen, indeed.

“I think,” he says, “we might have tied this round, sweetheart.”

“Fine,” you say. You kiss again, long and sweet. Then you bop him on the nose. “But next time it’ll be me.”

He sighs but smiles, shaking his head. Then he cups your face and pulls you in for another kiss.

#lee felix x reader #felix x reader #lee felix smut #felix smut #skz x reader #stray kids x reader #skz smut #stray kids smut #lee felix x you #skz x you #stray kids x you

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oozedninjas · 9 days

Text

Snap call

Summary: You send him nudes while he is on patrol, and Raph isn't quite happy about it.

A/N: I've been working on this for a couple of days! Hope you like it :) To that person who's been asking for Nightwatcher smut, wink, wink

Warnings: 18+ /NDNI / Breeding / sending nudes / Nightwatcher!Raph / Raph is around his early 30's / super brief ass-eating / dirty talking/dom!Raph

It is past midnight when he slips through the narrow window of your apartment’s room, still wearing his vigilante armor. His labored breaths rumble within the helmet, delivering them with a metallic tint that makes you tingle.

"Do you think you're funny, sending dirty pics all night while I'm on patrol?" He says, his voice raw as he approaches. It only takes him a few swift strides to stand beside you. The metallic clang of his boots on the floor sends a shiver down your spine, building anticipation. “Strip, now.”

A grin threatens to arise at the sight of him in this state, burning for you, but you bite it back, ditching the thin fabric of your pajamas in a heartbeat. The moment the last strand of clothing falls off your body, Raphael grips your arms, forcing you to turn around, back to his front. He closes the space between you. The icy metal of the Nightwatcher’s armor to your bare skin makes you gasp.

The cool of his gloves scrapes against your heated skin as his palms trail a path from your shoulders to your arms to dance lower, dipping across your abdomen and up from there. His grip tightened around your breasts. You catch your breath.

Expert fingers pinch your nipples, pulling, rolling them just enough for a soft moan to leave your lips. Raphael growls, enjoying the sound. His voice echoes through the metal helmet.

"Look at my little whore, too desperate to have me filling you up that you can't even wait for me to finish patrol?" he teases, as he keeps playing with them.

"I've been wanting this the whole evening..." you mutter, voice trembling.

"And you're not even sorry! Fucking cheeky of you," he chuckles, it's dark and sexy. "Let's fix that."

Raphael lifts the helmet from his head, placing it carefully on the bedside table. Under the room's dim illumination, the metal surface becomes a hazy, distorted mirror. He pushes you to the bed, barely giving you time to adjust on all fours before he licks a strip from your cunt to your ass. Your mouth gapes, and a whine puffs off.

"Mmm, so fucking tasty,"

His voice makes your blood run hot. Raphael sinks his face into you with not even a hint of shame as he starts fucking you with his tongue, wet and warm, impossibly soft against your pussy. He'd slide it over your clit from time to time, granting it the tiniest of attention.

You whine, pushing yourself to him, but Raph bites the inside of your thigh adequately hard to make you yelp. His hand fists your hair, pulling just enough to tingle your scalp. "Don't be greedy," he murmurs in your ear from behind. You can make out the scene of the reflection on the helmet.

"Tell me, what do you want?"

His hot breath tickles your ear. Everything he'd just done left your pussy a complete mess. You could feel the dampness dripping. God, you wanted him to fuck you stupid, nothing more. But the fear of another bite from a direct answer keeps your lips sealed.

"What’s the matter? Can't my doll think straight?" Raphael says, pushing a metal finger inside your cunt, dreadfully slow.

"Please— " your voice weak and desperate.

He smirks. "Yeah, that's more like it. But, please what?" he says, rubbing the tip of his finger on that sweet spot inside as he keeps you still by the hair. "Please stop?"

"No!" it came out so desperate you cringed. His soft chuckle soothed you a bit. "Please fuck me,"

He withdraws, emptying you. You want to jerk back to chase the delicious feeling of being full, but he halts you.

"Yeah? How bad do you want it?"

"Very— please," you whisper. His grip on your hair burns so fine, "Please, I'll be good... I'll be good."

"Fuck yes, you will," Raphael says, thrusting inside in one motion. It janks your breath off. He reaches deep, just the right spot. You can't help the lewd moan that follows.

"Look at that drunk-like smile," he tells you, letting go of your hair as he brings you up to embrace you against him. This shift has you on your knees, back resisting against his torso. The cold armor soothes the fire of your skin. Raph holds your face toward the reflection on the helmet, forcing you to watch your blissful expression. "You're such a good little slut for me. Gonna make you feel good, you want that?"

"Yes," you breathe, desperately holding his hands where they rest over your body, clenching and unclenching around his shaft.

He mutters praise in your ear, but you can't make it out as he starts pounding in and out, rhythmically, building a pace that makes your head fall back, mouth gaping while loud moans along with the filth of skin slapping fill the air.

He curses under his breath, you're tight, he says. You feel good, he's going crazy. "Touch yourself, let me see you," Raph takes your hand to drive it down to your front. You reach your clit, not losing detail of his dark gaze reflecting on the helmet, absorbing the whole scene.

It takes you a few seconds to pair his thrust with the circles over your soft nub, but once you do, it feels fucking heavenly. You make it last for as long as you can, right there where pleasure lingers strongly right before the peak. Your orgasm crashes over you, numbing everything.

"Fuck, yes, just like that- t- that's a good fucking girl,"

The pulsations of your high around his cock trigger his own, and he comes loud and long. The hot loads filling you up weaken your knees.

He holds your ground before gently placing you on the mattress, allowing his weight over you as he rests.

"Remind me to send you nudes more often," you say, once you catch your breath.

A raspy laugh pours into your ear, tickling.

#Nightwatcher!Raphael x reader #twenty something ninja turtles #tmnt smut #tmnt x reader smut #tmnt x reader #tmnt 2007 #tmnt raph x reader #tmnt raph 2007 #raph 2007 #2007 raph x reader #tmnt

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bettyfrommars · 2 months

Text

Dirty Metal Summer

a Dirty Dancing au

Part 4: Never Say Never

18+ONLY, MDNI, eventual smut, mention of blood and violence, a knife wound, mention of wounds, Jason being a typical prick, mention of assault, Steve gets hurt, misogynistic language, some angst, hurt and comfort. Reader goes by the nickname Bird. Eddie is in his late 20's and Reader is 21.

word count: 4.3k

masterlist playlist

Summary: You learn everything you need to know about both Jason and Troy while getting a taste of what Chrissy has had to deal with. Eddie tries to push you away but fails miserably. Robin and Steve are in a dire situation, and you turn to one of the only people you trust. A new opportunity presents itself and you decide to take the leap.

A/N: It's been so fun to put all of these characters into the setting of this beloved film. For those of you who are familiar with Dirty Dancing, I hope you enjoy a few of the scenes in this that were taken directly from it.

The next day, the three of you made your way to another spot on the lake in a rented boat for a picnic. Under the shade of a tree while your dad napped and Kim read a romance novel, you tried to draw Eddie. The curve of his mouth, the way his bangs skirted his eyebrows, the blunt nature of his nose. When you got home, you practiced in the attic for an hour, thought about throwing your cello off the balcony just to watch it splinter to pieces, and then you found yourself staring out the window, hoping for a glimpse of Eddie.

After dinner, you were the last one to leave the table, and the waiter Jason nudged your shoulder.

“Your dad seems really cool,” he gave a toothy, golden boy smile. “He signed a copy of one of his books for my mom.”

“He’s alright, I think I’ll keep him,” you said without returning the smile. Kim stopped in the archway to the foyer to turn and check if you were following, but you waved her off. Getting to know Jason was not high on your priority list, but you remembered Eddie flicking his cigarette at him that first day you arrived, and your curiosity was piqued.

Jason bent at the waist to stack some plates together, giving you a wink over his shoulder. “Listen, I know you’re kinda seeing Troy and all, but if you ever want to hang out we can—”

“I’m not seeing Troy,” you hissed, making sure the last few tables full of people couldn’t hear you. You were about to say he was “just a friend” but he wasn’t even that. “I barely know him.”

“Well, that’s not what he says,” Jason cocked his head, placing the used silverware on the tray as he moved around the table. “But anyway, if you ever want to have some fun, get away from this place or whatever, I could show you some stuff,” he lifted his eyebrows a few times suggestively. “Wait, you’re over 18, right?”

You followed him, ignoring his offer. “What did Troy tell you?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” he chuckled, as if it were funny. “Hey, I saw you talking to Chrissy the other day and, friendly advice? I’d keep your distance from that whole group if I were you.”

You held up the flower vase so he could pull the tablecloth off. “How do you know Chrissy?”

Jason cleared his throat, glancing at the people eating across the way. “I guess you could say Chrissy and I had some fun last summer.”

“She was your girlfriend?”

“She wishes,” he scoffed. “God created girls like Chrissy for one reason and one reason only.”

“Oh? And what reason is that?” You stopped helping him and stepped back.

“C’mon Bird, I know you’re from the suburbs, but you’re not that naive,” he moved the bin of dirty dishes to an empty chair.

He stepped closer and leaned in, whispering. “Girls like Chrissy, with serious daddy issues, they’re a great fuck, but no one wants to marry them. Same reason your boyfriend Troy had a turn with her.”

“He’s not my boyfriend,” You said through gritted teeth, an internal rage building as you watched his mouth, picking up a piece of silverware as you went.

“She hides it well at work, but Chrissy’s one of those satanic metalhead freaks you’d never want to be seen in public with. Not if you had any self respect anyway.”

He continued, and you followed him over to the alcove by the kitchen, out of view from the other customers. “Some people matter and some people don’t, that’s all I’m saying. If she thought Troy would ever get serious with a girl like her, that’s her fault, not his.”

“Is that why I saw them arguing the other day? She wanted to be with him but he ended it?”

You were pushing the boundaries of gossip, but could tell Jason enjoyed the attention.

“I doubt it, those two were never serious,” he moved back for another waiter to pass by. “Chrissy keeps threatening to tell Joyce that Troy forced himself on her the last time they were together, but we all know that’s a lie. She was practically begging for it. Plus, it’s her word against his, and everyone knows she’s a whore.”

“I see.”

Jason leaned in so close his lips were almost grazing your ear. “If you want to come by later, my cabin number is—”

The fork you had in your hand jabbed between his legs, points finding their soft target with ease. Jason let out a high-pitched curse that made a few heads turn, but he was helpless not to back up as you moved forward, forcing him further down the hallway, out of sight.

“Whattt the fuck, shit, fuck you, bitch, what the shit—”

When you pushed the utensil in further, he whimpered a gasping plea to stop, but your aim made him too vulnerable to move.

You leaned in so that your body was close to his in the darkness of the corner, close enough to smell the cheap cologne he wore. “Do you have any idea how powerful the lawyers are that work for my dad? Try anything with me or Chrissy, and you’ll be sorry you ever met me.”

You stepped back and he coughed, bending over to cover his crotch with both hands, trying to catch his breath.

“You’re a fucking cunt,” he spat.

You charged forward again, forcing him to stumble back, putting his hands up as a form of surrender.

You winked, and threw the fork at him on your way out, letting it clatter to the ground.

—-------

The adrenaline was still pumping when you were halfway back to your cabin on foot and spotted Eddie. He was cutting across the grass from the sidewalk, heading away from you.

“Eddie!”

But he didn’t falter, as if he couldn’t hear you, but that was impossible. Unless he had headphones on? Nope, you didn’t see any.

He picked up his pace.

Instinct told you maybe he didn’t want to be bothered, or he was in a hurry somewhere, but your buzzing brain overrode all of the logic.

“Hey, do you have a second?” You finally caught up to him on the lawn under the trees where the outside movie was usually playing.

He stopped abruptly and dropped his shoulders, taking a breath before he turned, albeit reluctantly, to look at you. His expression was weary, if not wholly nonplussed.

“What’s up?” His tone was cold as he wet his lips and braced his hands at his hips. His toolbelt and his staff shirt were still on, as if he were on the clock so late in the evening. “I’ve got a…thing to get to. But if you need something, you just gotta ask up at the front desk. Or dial 0 on the phone in your—-””

“A thing at the Hideout?”

The muscles in his jaw tightened at that. You looked fucking adorable standing there with your hands balled into fists as if you were bout to punch him.

He breathed out, looking everywhere but your face. “Don’t you have some other vacation thing you should be doing right now? Like charades in the west lobby or salsa dancing on the veranda?”

You crossed your arms over your chest. “I suppose anything would be better than this lame conversation.”

The retort made his brows jut up. “Well, keep on walking, your highness,” he extended his arms in a flowing gesture. “Don’t let a lowlife like me stop you.”

“Fine.”

“Good.”

So, he turned and continued on his way, wood hammer handle slapping his thigh from its side holster. But it only took a few steps for him to halt, cursing through gritted teeth when he realized he couldn’t walk away from you, it just wasn’t that easy.

When he spun around, you were standing in the same spot but with your back to him. “Was there something you wanted to ask me?”

You pivoted on your heel, prepared to be cunty right back, but you couldn’t help but soften once your eyes met. You could’ve made something up in that moment, or you could’ve feigned forgetfulness, but instead, you told him the truth.

“I just wanted to see you.” You swallowed hard and so did he.

Eddie stiffened; a grin teasing at the corner of his mouth. He didn’t smile though, he couldn’t. Such a gesture would betray everything he did not want to feel at that moment. A pregnant silence lingered thick in the space between you while he worked his jaw, once again trying to avoid looking directly at your face. He wasn’t ready to have those types of feelings, especially for someone he could never have.

“There is something I have to do first, but I’ll be at the Hideout later if you want…I mean, if you want to walk down there and have a beer…that’s where I’ll be.”

“I’d like that,” was all you should’ve said, but then you added. “I like beer.”

—-----

Your heart was in your throat as you made your way back from the cabin in a fresh change of clothes. You practiced the things you would say when you saw Eddie again, in case your brain to mouth connection betrayed you again.

The path you were on led down beyond the tennis courts and the golf course, and then along a strip of parking near the employee cabins. The Hideout was not too far off, you noticed, but then there were bright headlights beaming at you, and you kept your head down, pumping your arms to the beat of your own thoughts.

But then you heard a scream.

It was someone in distress, and it sounded like…Robin?

Stuttering to a halt, you squinted looking into the headlights that were a good many yards away, not yet able to make out a person or even what type of car was there.

“Hello?” You stepped from the sidewalk, inching closer, but your words were only met with the sound of a door slamming. “Are you okay? Who is there?”

Robin came toward you then; there was what looked like blood smeared on the front of her shirt.

“Bird!” She seemed so relieved to see you, hurrying forward with tear-soaked cheeks. She was speaking in a tense whisper, checking around to see if there were others who might hear her. “Have you seen Eddie?”

You forgot how to speak as you took in the situation, mouth agape. “Are you…hurt? What’s going on?”

“I’m–I’m fine, it’s Steve,” a sob caught in her throat. “I need to find Eddie. Can you help me?”

“Yeah of course,” you gushed, following her to the van to maybe see what the damage was.

She opened the passenger door to the van and Steve would’ve fallen out if she hadn’t caught him. He was slumped there like dead weight, his face a sheet of white.

You hurried to help hold him up and your hand at his hip slipped along something warm and viscous over his jeans in the dark. His head lolled forward and he mumbled something incoherent, but it was good to know he was conscious.

From what you could see, one side of his face was swollen, his lip split open and bleeding. The hand closest to you looked raw and angry like he’s been punching a brick wall, and there were cuts on his arm from where he’d tried to block the strikes.

“One of them had a switchblade,” Robin gushed. “Motherfuckers, they stabbed him and I—-there were too many of them. We didn’t know. My ex, she had all of her friends there. She lied and told them Steve hurt her. He’d never even met her before and then—-”

“Robin, we need to get him to a hospital,” you propped Steve back up in the seat, ready to get behind the wheel if necessary. “He looks like he’s lost a lot of blood.”

“No hospitals!” They both said in unison, but Steve’s voice was more of a groan. “I can take care of him. Help me get him back to my cabin?”

“But, Robin—” you were genuinely concerned for his welfare, but also could not force them to go.

“This isn’t the first time Steve’s been hurt, okay? They find out he’s been involved in any type of fight and he’ll be on his ass. Help me, please.”

With Steve’s arms hooked around each of your shoulders, you went step by step. Steve barked in pain a few times as your free hand hugged the clothing to his wound. You could tell his leg was hurt too, as he was having a hard time walking.

Halfway to Robin's cabin, which was maybe a 100 yards up the sidewalk but felt like 10 miles, Jamie, Eddie’s new assistant came rushing down off of his nearby porch.

“What the fuck happened?” He moved to help you, to shift Steve’s weight onto him.

“Go get Eddie please? Tell him to hurry!”

Jamie looked from you to her, calculating where he thought Eddie would be, and then took off at a jog.

By the time you made it to the cabin, a handful of other employees were rushing in to help as well, following Robin’s instructions as she told them to put a clean sheet on her bed and boil some water. Once he was safe on the bed, more people rushed in, and you sunk back in the crowd.

They said no hospitals, but you knew someone who could help.

—------

You couldn’t remember running back to your cabin, it all happened so fast, your brain could barely keep up with your feet. Not to mention that you hated running. You paused at the door, hoping your dad wasn’t awake. You couldn’t let him see the blood on your clothes, he’d overreact in the worst way, and then the cops would be involved. Not to mention the fact that you’d lied earlier and said you were going to hang out with Troy.

Just in case, you took off your stained sweater and tucked it under your arm, revealing a clean tank top underneath. Thankfully, the house was dark and quiet, and you tip-toed in a rush to your aunt’s room.

“Kim?”

She was on her side with a pillow over her head.

You rushed up and sat on the bed, jostling her a bit until she pulled the pillow away and blinked at you.

“What the—what’s going on?” She sat up. “Is your dad okay?”

“No, he’s fine,” you whispered, tugging at her arm. “But I need you to come with me.”

“You need me to come with you now?” she balked, swiping hair out of her face, scrambling for her eyeglasses to look at the numbers on the bedside clock. “Bird, it’s almost midnight.”

She kicked her legs off the bed with a groan, watching you dig through her closet. You pulled out her leather, Swiss Army medical bag with all of her emergency travel supplies in it and slung it over your shoulder.

“I need your help,” you paused to make sure you were being quiet enough. “Someone’s hurt. I can’t explain right now, there’s no time. Please just trust me.”

She could see the fear and the emotion in your eyes, and didn’t ask any more questions as she went over to pull some clothes out of her drawers, removing her nightgown to get dressed as fast as she could.

—------

You filled her in on what you knew as you both hurried along at a fast pace. “Bird, a stab wound is serious. We need to call the—”

“We can’t!” You barked it much more harshly than you’d intended. “Please,” you softened. “It would take another hour for an ambulance to get out here anyway. Plus, I don’t think he has insurance.”

There was a crowd of people mingling on the porch around Robin’s cabin, and Kim pushed through them. The doorway itself was blocked by bodies, and once inside, the bed with Steve on it was at the center of the room. The employee cabins were all small and quaint, with a kitchenette against the far wall, and a beaded curtain that led to a bathroom with a standing shower. Kim raised her voice to be heard over the ones still blocking her way.

“Everyone stand back, please? I'm a nurse.”

Eddie was almost as pale as Steve when you saw him at his friend’s side. He was shirtless under his leather jacket, atop his black, belted jeans, like he’d left his cabin in a hurry. They’d removed Steve’s shirt, revealing an expanse of chest hair, cleaned him, and put a fresh towel over the wound. The blood wasn’t gushing, but he was gritting his teeth in pain, and the puffiness on his face made him almost unrecognizable from one side.

Kim looked from Robin to Eddie, rolling her sleeves up. “I need a sink to wash my hands in. Tell everyone else to leave, please?”

While Eddie forced all of the gawkers out, he made lingering eye contact with you, and you nodded to let him know everything would be alright.

Kim scooted a metal camp chair up by the bed and opened her medical bag, snapping her latex gloves on. “Hi there Steven, do you remember me? I’m going to take a look at you, okay?”

He swallowed. “How could I forget you?” His voice was scratchy, and when he tried to smile, he blanched in pain again. “You should see the other guy.”

“I know that must hurt,” Kim pulled a vial of liquid from one of the many pockets in her bag. “I’m going to give you something for the pain.”

She was doing her best to soothe him, keeping him apprised of every move she made, keeping him comfortable.

Eddie shut the door, locking everyone else out, including Chrissy, and came to stand behind you, cupping his hands on your arms, his warm body pressing into your back. The sensation made you dizzy. Maybe he needed the comfort, or he thought you did, but either way—you were grateful.

Kim looked up. “Robin? Is that your name?”

Robin nodded, inching closer, her eyes puffy from crying.

“You did a really good job of cleaning his wound. Do you think you could stay and assist? He’s going to need stitches.”

Robin was quick to nod emphatically. “You think he’s going to be okay?” A sob hitched in her throat. “He was protecting me. If I’d never gone there…if I…then he wouldn’t…” You went over to put your arm around her as fresh tears fell and dripped down her chin.

Kim caught Steve staring at her, dragging long blinks as the morphine took effect, his dry lips parted and pink with blood from his broken nose. She didn’t like answering those types of questions when she knew so little about the internal damage, but she found herself brushing hair off his forehead in a way that was not normally in her bedside manner.

“I have a good feeling he’ll live to make plenty more mistakes,” but then she quickly dropped her hand and went back to work.

“What can I do?” Eddie asked, stepping out from behind you, to the foot of the bed.

Kim frowned as she inspected the two broken fingers on one of Steve’s hands. “I’d like some coffee. Black, two sugars,” she said without looking up. “But the rest of you might as well go get some sleep. This is going to take a while.”

—-------

Kim begged you to go home so as to not worry your father when he woke up to an empty house, being that the sun would probably be up before she was done. You knew she was right, but you watched Eddie and Jamie go up the hill to the main house for a coffee run with longing reluctance. He ended up grabbing an entire coffee maker from the kitchen and a pitcher of water to make sure Kim had everything she needed for the night.

The next day, after pretending like nothing happened over brunch, and your dad went back to writing, you returned to Robin’s cabin with Kim to check on Steve.

Before rounding the corner to the porch, you heard Eddie’s voice before you saw him.

“...Chris, there is no way we’ll be able to find a bass player this late in the game,” he huffed.

And then Chrissy spoke up. “We can’t just bail on this gig, Ed. This could be huge for us. There has to be some—”

“Who?” His tone was annoyed. Not so much at her, but at the situation. “Emily will be out of town and Sean has a gig with his own band. We are out of options.”

“We have two weeks to find someone,” she chimed, full of hope.

“Yeah. Barely two weeks.” He leaned back against the railing of the porch so he could see him from where you and Kim stood frozen. “That’s not enough time.”

But then Kim stepped forward. “Hello everyone. It’s me again. Nurse Ratched.”

They both turned to greet her with enthusiasm, and Eddie extended his hand to help her up the stairs, even though she didn’t need it.

A smile quivered on his mouth when he locked eyes with you.

Kim knocked first, and then you heard her ask how her patient was doing once Robin let her in.

Chrissy and Eddie got quiet, possibly wondering how much you had heard. He wore a black, ribbed tank top under his unbuttoned work shirt, and Chrissy was in her waitress uniform as if she’d stopped by on her way to the main house.

“Everything good?” You broke the silence, feeling awkward.

They both spoke at once, but then Chrissy gestured for Eddie to continue. “Everything is good, it’s great. Your aunt, what she did for Steve last night, it was incredible,” he turned to snatch his smokes off of the table as he said it. “I didn’t know there were still people in the world willing to help strangers like that.”

“She’s pretty terrific,” you swallowed, noting the looks that the two kept exchanging. “What about the two of you? I guess this means you are out a bass player for a while?”

Besides the obvious trauma to his face and stomach, fingers on Steve's hand were broken from how hard he’d fought back. Even though Kim had been able to set them in splints, and they would eventually heal, it’d be a while before he could pick up a guitar again. She couldn’t speculate on the nerve damage, but there was a chance the dexterity would never be the same.

Chrissy sat on the edge of the railing with her hands folded in her lap. “Our band was invited to play at a show called Pedal to the Metal. It’s a once in a lifetime chance to get our name out there,” she glanced up at Eddie but he was staring at the ground, working his jaw.

“There’s always next year,” he deadpanned in a way that made you think he didn’t believe it.

“We won’t get invited again and you know it, Ed,” she tucked some hair behind her ear and avoided eye contact with you. “The Dead Alive and Heaven’s Harlots will be there. I’ve been dying to meet them.”

“Who are The Dead A—-” you were about to ask but then Eddie interrupted.

“Fuck those bands and fuck that stupid festival,” he grumbled. “We don’t need them. When Steve recovers, we’ll figure out how to pick up the pieces.”

The wheels in your brain were spinning so fast, you wouldn’t be surprised if smoke came out of your ears.

You cleared your throat. “Do you think maybe you could teach someone to play bass?”

Eddie barked a laugh out of his nose. “In two weeks? Hilarious.”

“I mean,” you scrambled for the right words, hoping they wouldn’t laugh you off the porch. “W-what if they already know strings really well? Like maybe, the cello? Wouldn’t it be easier for them to learn?”

Chrissy shrugged, not sure where you were going with the story, but Eddie cocked his head at you, eyes narrowing.

“It’s possible,” Chrissy frowned down at her lap and then swept her gaze up to you. “Do you have someone in mind?”

Before you could answer, Eddie waved his hand in the air and leaned his shoulder against the cabin. “Nope. No way,” he popped the “p” and shook his head, hair falling in his face. “It wouldn’t work, we don’t have enough time.”

Chrissy got to her feet. “C’mon Ed, someone like that could learn 5 songs in 2 weeks if they wanted to! But do we even know anyone like that?”

You swallowed hard, waited for both of them to stare at you, and then offered a nervous smile.

-----

Thank you to everyone reading and enjoying this little world. You know I always love hearing what you think ❤️🚬

------

taglist: @micheledawn1975@kurdtbean@katethetank@elvendria@spookysqaush86@somethingvicked@stylesxmunson@laurenlokirby@sapphire4082 @kellsck @motherfckerrr @emxxblog @justdamnpeachy @dashingdeb16 @corrodedcoffincumslut @bexreadstoomuch @ohmeg@marrowfrog00 @ahoyyharrington

#Eddie Munson #Eddie Munson series #Dirty Metal Summer #Eddie Munson fic #Steve Harrington #Robin Buckley #Dirty Dancing au #Steve Harrington fic #Eddie Munson smut #Stranger Things Fanfiction

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lvrslvt3 · 9 months

Text

POOL CONFESSIONS | j. fisher

main masterlist | tsitp masterlist

PAIRINGS : jeremiah fisher x reader

SUMMARY : the two friends try to do a movie stunt in a pool, but they end up making there own movie.

WARNINGS : none

NOTES : i haven’t proofread this

“looks like your having fun.” you sarcastically commented while taking a seat beside jeremiah, your bare legs dangling into the cool pool water infront of the pair of you. you glanced over at the boy, concerned at the expression on his face and the tightness of his jaw. he had a solemn look about him as he gazed down at the pool and you knew why. you had accidentally caught him kissing belly in it just the night before but you hadn’t told him. you didn’t want your own emotions to get on the way of his.

“bad memories?” your voice was quieter this time, more reserved, as your curiosity got the best of you. you also wanted to make sure that he was okay since he did not currently look it. “something like that.” he mumbled before finally facing you. his jaw softened but you could tell he was keeping something in. he was mad at something or someone but it wasn’t you, if it was he would’ve already started an argument or atleast made a few passive agressive comments by now.

“what about you?” he leaned back on his hands instead of crossing them and you notice the slight falter in his breath, his chest hitching for a second longer before finally calming down. you pretended not to notice it. “honestly?” you asked with a sigh while looking away from jeremiah and back into the water, “i’m thinking about that scene from dirty dancing right now.” you failed to hide the small smile on your face.

jeremiah shot you a confused look before he finally broke out into a real smile, a soft chuckle leaving him. “when johnny lifts baby up in the water?” he questioned, recognition sparking all over his features. you hummed before facing him fully, a michevouis smirk on your face. “why don’t we do it?” you shrugged as you spoke before lifting up an arm to flex your hardly there muscles, “i’ve gotten pretty strong—“

“why don’t i do the lifting?” he suggested while standing up, pulling off his shirt and jumping in while his shorts on. you laughed while taking off your shirt aswell, leaving you in only pyjama shorts and a sports bra.

you slipped in the water before the effects of his stare took place, a shy smile overcoming you as you faced each other — now soaked in the water and underneath the starlight of cousins. “don’t go shy on me now.” jeremiah teased after shaking his hair, some of its fluffiness coming back before taking steps in the water over to you, “your gonna have to run and jump—“

“run?” you interrupted before he could finish his sentence, “i cant run in deep water.” you reminded him before pushing back your hair so it wouldn’t fall in front your face any longer. “i’ll just,” you paused for a moment, “come at you fast.”

“so run?” he raised a brow and you splashed water towards him, scrunching up your face in annoyance before readying yourself. “just come at me, i’ll catch you.” he promised, bringing his arms out to do just that. “you better.” you mumbled before stretching your body, a little dramatically, to prepare yourself. “just to let you know, the music is playing in my head.” you told jeremiah before you started towards him.

“mine too.” he chuckled before you finally began to move, going as fast as you could to get past the heavy water trying to keep you back until finally his hands were on your waist and he could attempt to lift you. he got you up into the air but perhaps too fast since you had went over him, your hands in the air as if you was flying as you dived back into the pool on the other side of the fisher boy. when you resurfaced he was laughing.

“you came at me too fast.” he joked as you went back to your place from before. “if you can’t handle me, jere, just tell me.” you teased him. the boy chuckled and shook his head, “i can always handle you.” you rolled my eyes at the comment but you still blushed at his attention.

“if you drop me one more time, then i’m gonna drown you.” you joked as you once again came from underneath the water, slicking your hair back to keep it away from your face and swimming back towards your spot. “i just don’t know my own strength.” he joked, bringing his arms up and flexing the new muscles he had gotten over the year. you tried not to stare too intensely at them and instead kept your eyes focused on his face.

“is that why you keep dunking me?” you questioned with a tilt of your head. he nodded with a grin, bringing his arms out to catch you again. “this time we’ll do it, i know it.” he stated confidently. you smiled, beginning to rush towards him. you had managed to get faster each time. the water was easier to break through and it swiftly moved by you until finally you reached jeremiah.

he caught your waist just like last time and held you up, your hands coming to steady yourself on his shoulders automatically. “don’t worry, i’ve got you.” he mumbled and you could feel your stomach tighten, feeling on fire from his touch. you brought your hands up just like they had in the movie, giggling along with jeremiah’s chuckles before finally he let you down and you were stood infront of him with a sheepish grin still on your face.

“we did it!” you cheered while hugging him, his hands holding your waist tighter as you both celebrated. “i told you we would.” jeremiah stated before you pulled away to look at him again. “your so cocky.” you laughed through your own words. “when a pretty girl like you wants to be in my presence i have every right to be cocky.” he looked smug as he spoke and his hand tightened on you once more. “am i wrong?” he raised a brow as if to challenge you.

you didn’t respond, rolling your eyes playfully and turned to escape his grasp before you exposed the little crush you had on him. but his grip tightened so your movement halted, and you looked back around at his emotionless face. he was staring down at you with an unreadable expression. “jere, you okay?”

he didn’t respond, his eyes glancing down to your lips before he finally kissed you. without warning, without asking he simply pressed his lips against yours like that was the only way to answer your question. once he kissed you, your heart flowed and every muscle in your body relaxed. how much you needed this terrified you. you wondered if everyone felt this way. maybe it was just you, or maybe it was just you and him together.

he pulled away after a few seconds, squeezing your hips as if to ask silently if you were okay, and when you didn’t do anything he spoke. “i always knew i loved you.” he whispered in a hoarse voice that made you involuntarily shiver. you opened your mouth to speak, to say it back, but he stopped you. “i didn’t say it just to hear it said back. i said it to make sure that you knew.”

you spoke just as he finished, “i love you too, jere.” you smiled up at him and he returned it easily, your heart beginning to race again at this bubble of happiness you were confined to as you held each other. you leaned your head up to kiss him once again. this time, he grabbed your throat but didn’t choke you, just brought you so close that when you kissed you weren’t sure whose air you were breathing.

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andysorbit · 6 months

Text

On the Edge of a Knife (M)

Sadist boyfriend!Jisung x Masochist girlfriend!reader

Genre: Smut

Warnings: knife play. face slapping, light spit play, degradation, name calling, light choking, dirty talk, breeding kink, unprotected sex

Word count: dude idk I'm sorry

Author's note: this is loosely based off a dream I had and yeah... thank you, brain

Jisung is restless with a head full of thoughts that he won't share. You can tell by the way he fidgets beside you as the movie you both agreed on plays on by unwatched eyes. You give him the space to find his words and perk up a bit when he sets his phone down and turns to press a kiss to your shoulder,

"So... I have... I-" he says reluctantly. He's got that look in his eyes and you turn your head to look at him, "Cat got your tongue?" You chuckle, "Just say it, Jisung. The worst thing that could happen is that I say 'no', baby."

Jisung shrugs, "Remember how we were watching that movie a while back and you were so obsessed with the butterfly-knife that guy had in that scene?"

You nod and purse your lips, "Yeah?" You lilt and set your phone down in the tiny gap of space between your bodies.

"I bought one," he states and you can tell that he's finding his words and choosing them carefully, "I got it like... that night. I ordered it and I was practicing how to use it and... I'm pretty decent with it now and I..."

His silence is full and you turn your body to face him, giving him your full attention, "Did you bring it?" You ask him eagerly. You roll over onto your side and he presses a soft kiss to your forehead, "Yeah... I did," he replies in a soft tone and lifts his t-shirt to show you the knife secured in a sheath that he clipped to his pants.

You both stare at each other as the television light dances across his daring expression; the thick silence between you both is somehow louder than the television and he firmly places a hand on your hip.

"I wanna see," You whisper softly. You stave off a chill and he smiles fondly at your interest before unsheathing it then twirling it a few times between his long fingers. You feel your body heating up and Jisung chuckles a little as his fingers come to a stop.

"I- wow, Jisung," You breathe.

He turns to you and presses a kiss to your lips, "I see that look in your eyes... do you want me to do something with this knife?"

You nod and he traces the blade along the pulse at the base of your throat. A deep chuckle rumbles in the base of his own throat as he kisses down to your chin before kissing his way back up to your lips to give them a playful bite, "Want it rough?" he whispers as he grabs your face. You nod and look him in his eyes as the coolness of the blade trails down the center of your chest.

"Is it sharp?" You ask him.

Jisung shakes his head slowly, "No but we'll pretend it's very sharp. How much do you want it to hurt?"

You nod again, "A lot," you sigh; feeling your body heat up.

"How far is too far? Am I hitting you or no?"

"God, Jisung, please- fuck yes."

You reach out to grab his shoulders and with a quick twirl of the knife, it's closed back up and he's giving your knuckles a firm rap with the safe handle and the bite handle.

"Don't touch me," he says shortly.

"Sorry," You gasp as you wince at the throb on your knuckles.

He twirls the knife back open, "Lick it," he orders you as he grabs your throat with one hand and holds the knife up close to your face with the other hand. You eye each other as your tongue darts out to the lick the dull side of the knife and Jisung shakes his head disapprovingly, "Slower. Like you're trying to get my dick hard," he says coarsely.

There he is.

You repeat the action again, this time much slower and Jisung nods as he holds your gaze, "Good girl."

You do it again and he rears back, "Take your clothes off. Now," he says, untying the string of his sweatpants.

You sit up and clumsily remove your t-shirt then your pajama bottoms then finally your panties.

Jisung situates himself between your legs and spreads them, "Did I do that or did the knife do that?" he asks, voice dripping with condescension. You flinch and whimper when you feel the knife drag slowly over you mound. His free hand comes up to slap your thigh,

"Speak."

You gasp, "I- You... you did it."

He sighs and swipes his thumb against your clit, "Liar."

Your heartbeat hammers in your ears as he strokes you slowly and in your absent minded state, you reach out to touch him again.

This time his hand comes down across your cheek, "Hands off."

You squeak and feel your stomach flutter at the delicious sting on your cheek.

Jisung pushes his pants down and pulls you down a bit closer to him, "Should I be nice and stretch you out or should I force that pussy to take me?"

"F- force it," You beg him as you squeeze your eyes shut.

"Of course you would want me to force my dick in you- say 'please', bitch, and open your fucking eyes," he hisses.

"P- please," You whimper as you open your eyes and meet his gaze. His blown pupils are hypnotic as he stares you down. He lines himself up against your soaking cunt and fills you in one quick motion, drawing a strangled cry from you as he stretches your walls.

You bask in the pain as his hips meet yours in quick and brutal succession, his heavy sighs mixing with the wet sounds of his cock slamming into your soaked walls, "Pussy's so fucking wet for me. Taking all this dick without even getting stretched first. Such a greedy pussy just sucking my cock in just like it should," he growls; poking the tip of the knife against your cheek.

You whine and feel the sweat begin to form on your skin as you take each thrust desperately. His eyes find yours again and he reaches up to slap your face just because he can,

"You're nothing to me... Just a hole. Just a bitch with a slutty little hole that I use to get my dick wet," he snarls as the rhythm of his hips meet against yours harshly. He traces the tip of the knife over your left nipple before spitting on the valley between your breasts. You sigh and your skin tingles more feverishly as you watch him use the knife to collect his spit.

He stares at you for a moment, expecting you to do something but you just whine and his hips slow down. His hand comes off of your neck and he slaps your cheek first with the front of his hand then the other cheek with the back of his hand. You clench around him, "P- please... ple- ease..." You sob desperately, clenching around him over and over again.

"I shouldn't have to keep telling you what to do. You can't be this stupid all the goddam time. You have one fucking job and you can't even do that right," he spits at you peevishly. You open your mouth and he spreads his spit across your tongue with the knife.

His hips speed up again as he crosses your arms beneath your breasts and holds them there,"You get so fucking stupid for my dick... so fucking stupid. Aren't you embarrassed? How do you let a dick have this much power over you?"

You ramble out something that's meant to be an apology but it sounds like random sounds. Jisung laughs and pounds into you harder, "What are you saying? Are you telling me how much you like it when I fuck you like a whore? You like how I pound that dirty little pussy? Huh, baby?"

You nod slowly and blink away tears. Jisung sighs, "I don't care if you're too fucked out to speak and I don't care how stupid you sound right now. When I ask you a question, I expect a fucking answer. I won't think you're any dumber than I already do. Now answer me," he growls and slaps your face a little harder.

You bask in this, the safe word not even being a second thought; these moments are when you feel the most alive. When you crave him the most.

"Uh huh... fuck... love it," You gasp as his hips meet yours.

"Of course you do... fucking cock slut," he moans, "I'm gonna cum in that tight little pussy... gonna breed that cunt til I'm spilling out of you... til you're begging me to stop."

You heave and whine desperately; spreading your legs as wide as you can to let him slam into you. The pressure of his cock bumping against your cervix draws a cry from your mouth and you thrash against the mattress in a frenzy of desperation: sweat becoming that more prominent on your heated skin.

"Sungie!" You cry out.

Jisung gives you a disapproving frown, "Sungie? Really? What's my fucking name?" he spits out angrilly and slaps your cheek. He leans down to bring his face to yours and kisses you harshly; teeth bumping yours and tongue stroking into your mouth hungrily.

"Sir... sir," You whimper against his mouth.

"That's right... don't forget it again," he grunts.

"C- can I... I touch you?" you squeak.

He scoffs, "Gonna fall apart if you can't?"

"Yes, sir... please?" You plead as Jisung takes your hand and brings it up to his face. He gives the palm of your hand a soft kiss then sucks your third and fourth finger into his mouth. You look up at him in awe and grunt as he pounds you harder.

He pulls your fingers out of his mouth with a pop, "Gonna cum... fuck. Fuck, baby. Gonna be a good little bitch and let me cum in that wet little pussy?" he pants as his hips stutter.

"Ye- es," You cry weakly.

"Yeah... that's my good little slut. Gonna put a fucking baby in you tonight."

Your eyes roll to the back of your head and you moan weakly. He slams into you as he traces the tip of the knife over one nipples and then the other, sending hot tingles over your skin.

"Get me pregnant," You plead as you claw at his shirt, "Please... want it so bad, sir... please, please, please."

Jisung brings his hand down to toy with your clit and the room spins, encircling you in the musky smell of sex and sweat.

"So fucking close... fuck," he sighs and takes his thumb off of your clit. You scream and try to grab his hand to bring it back to your pulsing bud but Jisung yanks his hand away and slaps the back of your hand, "You get what I give you, bitch. Be grateful," he hisses and you nod.

His hips grow sloppier and when a bead of sweat rolls down the side of his face, a light of realization comes alive in his eyes and he frantically claws at his t-shirt to pull it off before tossing it aside. He groans as his come to a stop and he pulls out of you, "Turn around."

You weakly roll onto your stomach before raising up onto your hands and knees. Jisung gives your ass a harsh slap and you cry softly at the impact. He chuckles darkly and slaps your ass again before slamming back into you. This time, the feeling of his balls slapping against your pusling clit drives you mad.

"This is all you're good for... don't you ever forget that," he sighs as he grabs the back of your neck and pulls you up so that your back is pressed to his torso; sweat and heat blending in as he brings the knife up to press to your throat. His other hand fondles your tits before easing down to nestle in your folds.

"You wanna cum?" he asks you.

You nod, "Please."

"Dirty little bitch has such good manners. Do you deserve to cum?"

"N- no... no, sir."

"Damn right... but... I'll be nice to you. You're making my cock feel so good, baby, I think I'll be nice to you just this once."

You breathe a sigh of relief as his middle finger strokes your clit. Your body jolts and trembles as he brings you closer to your release and that knife pressing against your throat adds to the thrill of this building release.

"If you cum before I do, I'm gonna ruin your whole fucking night- I promise you," he growls against your ear. You nod obediently and hold it in as best as you can. More relief washing over you when his hips stutter and he gasps, "Fuck... M'gonna cum," he curses, "Gonna cum... fuck, baby."

He cums with a shudder and you squeeze your eyes shut as he keeps stroking your clit, his hips still slamming into you but with much less fervor.

"Cum... Now," he growls as he presses the knife harder against your throat. You cum. Hard and frantically with weak cries and a trembling body.

Jisung pulls out of you before shoving you down onto the mattress, "Turn over. I wanna watch my cum drip out of you."

You do as you're told and you catch a soft smile grow on his kiss swollen lips as you spread your legs for him. He sits back on his haunches, cock still out his pants and hard. He looks down at your pussy and sighs, "There it is... I did that to you," he whispers before fucking his cum back into you with two fingers.

He pulls them out and brings his fingers up to your lips, "Taste us, baby," he says softly. You can tell that he's beginning his process of grounding you as you take his fingers into your mouth and suck them, savoring the mixed taste of his cum and your own juices.

He closes the knife and sets it down on the bed then points to the center of his forehead, "Look here," he says softly. You follow his finger and he gives you a gentle "Good girl." before pointing to the tip of his nose, "Now look here."

You do and he smiles and points to the center of his bare chest, "Now look here, sweetheart."

You follow his finger again.

"Good girl now tell me your name."

"My... my name is Y/n."

"Yes and that's such a pretty name. Can you tell me what my name is?"

"Jisung."

"Good girl. Good, good girl. Now can you take a deep breath for me?" he lilts.

You inhale deeply and let it out slowly.

He nods, "True or false... Does Jisung love Y/n?"

"True," You reply weakly.

"Yes that's true. I love you so much. When you're ready, we can get cleaned up, okay?"

You nod and reach out to grab at his hands. He lays down on top of you but supports his weight with one arm, "You did a great job," he whispers.

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whisperingtales · 1 day

Text

You and Eddie, silly grins on your faces, high and feeling groovy as you dance around the trailer, playing and singing to that one scene from Dirty Dancing.

"How you call your lover boy?"

"Come here, lover boy!

You collapse on his bed, smiling and giggling as he cages you in, peppering kisses to your face. His hand cups your cheek, leaning up to admire his girl.

He kisses you delicately, but fueled with passion and love. You pull away first when a light bulb goes off in your head. "LET'S DO THE LIFT!"

"Absolutely not!" He states, sternly.

Okay, that's all. Have a wonderful night. Bye

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #stranger things #side note #fluff #*emsidenotes #*emfics

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pedrito-friskito · 10 months

Note

happy summer babes!!! 🍉🦀🏄‍♀️ thank you for the amazing sleepover fun!! I'm going with 🎲 ROLL FOR FIC 🎲 because it just sounds so fun and I hope I do it right lmaodvdf rose gold sparkles set PP character list and ofc smutty (are we surprised??? no ofc not)

love u to the moon and back!!!

MY DARLING SWEET SIL 🤍

yes yes yes roll for fic ROLL FOR FICCCCCC - we landed on: Frankie Morales and “You better watch your fucking mouth.”

love you MORE 🥰

done for - frankie morales x fem!reader

word count: 3.4k

warnings: drinking, brief violence (frankie punches a guy), unwanted advances from a third party (nothing explicit), car sex, dirty talk, I love frankie morales this was way too much fun to write

You’re the only reason Frankie comes to this bar.

It’s not his usual scene. Will dragged him in a few months back — despite his protests, but the eldest Miller brother was always stronger than Frankie, so he was left with little choice. But then he stepped through the doorway, spotted you behind the bar, and it didn’t matter that the music was too loud and every other person in the place looked to be at least ten years younger than him.

“What can I get ya?” you’d shouted over the music when he and Will approached the bar, leaning forward and giving him a healthy eyeful of your cleavage. Will shouted back his order and had to elbow Frankie in the ribs to get him to spit it out.

He called out the first beer logo he saw on the taps to your right, and you winked at him as you fished a glass out from beneath the bar and started filling it.

The pair of them lingered at the edge of the bar a while, Will combing the crowd for his fiancé, who had said she’d meet them there, and Benny, who was never one to say no to a night on the town. Will eventually spotted her, and after polishing off his drink, headed into the throng of people on the dance floor, leaving Frankie alone..

“Your friend abandoned you?” you called, and Frankie turned so fast he nearly fell off his stool. “That wasn’t very nice of him.”

“Nah, his girl’s here,” he responded, finishing his beer.

You took his empty glass and refilled it without asking, and when he opened his mouth to protest, you waved a hand at him. “It’s on the house.”

He shouted his thanks and you winked again.

The bar became an almost weekly occurrence, every Friday night like clockwork, either or both of the Millers in tow, and Frankie knew he was getting a little too hung up on the way your eyes lit up when he walked up to the bar. A few times, you finished your shift while they were still there, and finished your night on the other side of the bar top, drinking Benny under the table and talking to all three of them.

Before Frankie knew it, you were…friends, for lack of a better word.

“I don’t know why you don’t just ask her on a date, Fish,” Benny drawled, turning and walking backward in front of Frankie and Will, putting his arms out wide. “She’s into you, I know she is.”

“Yeah, cuz you’re the great expert on women,” Will jabbed, grinning at his little brother.

Frankie shook his head, lifted his shoulder. “I dunno. I don’t wanna screw it up.”

“Can’t do that if you don’t give it a shot,” Benny threw back, dodging Will’s fake punch. “What’s the worst that’s gonna happen? She says no?”

Both the Millers looked at him and Frankie felt his cheeks flush. “Well, yeah.”

“Then onto the next one, my guy!” Benny shouted, grinning broad. “That’s how it goes!”

Will rolled his eyes, shoving at his brother until he nearly stumbled backward. “Ignore him. You know I hate admitting when Benny is right, but I agree with him. She does seem into you, Fish. Gets all smiley when you show up.”

It just became a matter of finding the courage.

Tonight’s the night, he’s decided. It’s been a few weeks of hyping himself up, fake conversations in the bathroom mirror until he gets sick of staring at his own pathetic reflection. He’s seen you a couple times since Benny and Will’s pressing, and he’d be lying if he said he hadn’t noticed your being a little more attentive to him than the Millers, leaning a little closer on the bar, your shoulders pressed together when you’re off shift and flagging down another bartender to order.

It’s late. He had a long day to say the least. He’s tense, his whole back a twisted knot of muscle from the moment he woke up. You seem a little off too, your smile tighter than usual when you greet him, something strange in your eyes when you slide his beer across the bar top. When you bring him a second, nearly an hour and a half since he arrived, he sees it again, and catches your wrist lightly.

“You okay?”

“Yeah,” you answer, too quickly, eyes darting down the bar before meeting his. “Fine. No Millers tonight?”

“Nah, just me,” he replies, “sorry.”

“Don’t be,” you shoot back and your face softens, the tightness receding. “Always happy for your company, Frankie.”

The corner of his mouth lifts. “The feeling is mutual. What time are you done?”

You flick your wrist, glancing at your watch. “Another hour. Why?”

“You wanna go somewhere after? Get something to eat?”

He’s shocked at himself. The words roll so smoothly off his tongue, but when your eyes widen just slightly, embarrassment makes a home in his gut, his ears scorching and for once, he’s grateful for the dim lighting in the bar.

But then your face splits in a smile, and that strange look in your eyes is gone. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

You tap your fingers against his on the bar as someone calls your name and he nods as you step away, grinning to himself as he sips his beer.

An hour later, and you’re cashing out for the night, talking quietly to one of the other bartenders. You’ve stopped by a few times to check on him now, getting him a glass of water and confirming you’ll still be out on time. The second time you came by, the strange look in your eye had returned, your gaze darting around as you spoke to him, and the tightness wasn’t just in your voice, in your mouth, but your whole body. It makes him uneasy.

He watches as you disappear through the doors that lead to the rear of the bar, and five minutes later, you reappear at the far end, changed out of your work uniform, your purse over your shoulder and a sweater slung over your arm. Frankie keeps his eyes on you as you try to close the distance between you and him, but halfway, something stops you.

Someone stops you.

It’s a hand on your arm first, halting you, and then the man rises from his stool, towering over you, and Frankie knows what that strange look in your eye is.

It’s fear.

His gut twists as he pushes himself off his stool, tossing a bill on the bar top as he steps away. He’s far enough that he can’t hear what the guy is saying to you, but judging by the look on your face — your eyes not only fearful, but watery too — it’s nothing good.

“Hey, is this guy bothering you?” he says, trying to sound as smoothly as possible as he steps around the man, offering you his hand. Your eyes go wide when you see him, and Frankie slides himself between you and the guy, turning to face him. They’re about the same height, and Frankie squares his shoulders.

Behind his back, he flexes his fingers wide, and you slip your hand into his, squeezing tight.

“Move, asshole,” the guy spits, and Frankie raises his brows.

“Well, since you asked so nicely,” he quips, “no.”

“We were having a conversation,” the guy continues, and makes the most comical looking angry face that Frankie has to stifle his laugh, “and you interrupted it.”

“Didn’t look like a conversation,” Frankie replies and pushes you another step back, trying to angle you towards the door that leads outside. “Looked like you grabbed her without her permission and were trying to scare her. Not a good look, my guy.”

“I’m not your guy, fucker. Now let me finish my conversation; you don’t wanna get your lights punched out for a dumb bitch like this one.”

Over his shoulder, he hears your sharp inhale, and the hand not wrapped in yours clenches into a fist. “You better watch your fucking mouth.”

“Do you even know her? Clearly you’re just as dumb as you look if you think she’s worth this sort of trouble. You don’t—”

Frankie decks him.

His knuckles explode in pain as his fist connects with the guy’s jaw. When was the last time he even threw a punch? He’s honestly not sure, but he releases your hand to hold his hurt one, and you cling to his arm.

“Frankie.”

It’s a good shot, cuz the guy drops. He falters back against the bar, spilling his glass, and it pours over the edge of the bar and onto him as he falls to the ground beneath the bar. His mouth is full of blood, and he moves like he’s trying to get up, but Frankie steps forward, you still half-wrapped around his arm, and steps on the guy’s chest.

“I said, watch your fucking mouth,” he spits, and pushes his boot down hard before turning away. Your eyes are wide, shining in the dim light, and you grab his bad hand gently, inspecting it.

“You…” you trail off, shake your head. “Why did you…”

“You still wanna get out of here?” Frankie asks, and he swallows hard, waiting for your answer. Did he scare you off? Fuck, did he—

“Yes.”

The moment the night air hits his face, Frankie feels like he just ran a marathon. He’s never been the guy to go punching other guys in bars. That’s been Benny’s MO, most of the time, Will a few times. Santi only gets testy when he drinks tequila, but that’s almost every time they go out.

But…he put his hands on you. And it was obvious you didn’t want him to.

He offers you his good hand as you step off the sidewalk, crossing the street to where his truck is parked. He walks you around to the passenger’s side, opens the door for you, and you clamber inside, dropping your purse to the floor of the truck, but then you turn back, grabbing his shoulder.

“I should explain,” you start, fingers curling in the fabric of his t-shirt. “He’s…he was a mistake.”

“You don’t have to explain anything,” he tells you, and your eyes soften again, your hand tugging at his t-shirt now. “I don’t make it a habit to go around punching people, but anyone could see he was making you uncomfortable, and I…I’m sorry, if it freaked you out.” His gaze drops, staring at his boots on the curb, your feet resting on the truck’s sidebar.

You cock a brow. “You’re apologizing? You just defended my honour in front of a bar full of people and you’re apologizing? Frankie.” You slip two fingers under his chin, lift his eyes back to yours. “I might have some explaining to do when I go in for my next shift, but you don’t have to apologize, Frankie. I should be thanking you.” Your hand curves to cup his jaw, and your thumb fits perfectly into the sparse patch in his beard, stroking light at his skin. “I am thanking you.”

He doesn’t know who leans forward first. He feels like he’s falling, for a moment, until his palm hits the leather of the seat, and your other hand moves up, knocking the hat from his head before your fingers lock into the curls at the back of his head. Your mouth tastes like mint and he hopes he doesn’t taste too much like beer as your teeth graze his bottom lip.

It’s a heavy kiss. He can feel it seeping down his throat, spreading through his limbs, spiking his bloodstream. He’d be a liar if he said he hadn’t thought about kissing you from the moment he first laid eyes on you, but something in the way you’re kissing him now, something like desperation in your movements, tells him he’s not alone in that.

The noises you make have him half-hard in his jeans. He goes to plant his other hand beside your hip, but you let go of his jaw to grab his wrist, redirecting it so his palm lands on your thigh instead, feeling how warm you are through the soft fabric of your leggings. His thumb digs into your muscle, finding you hotter towards the seam, and his breathing comes faster. “You still wanna go get something to eat?” he asks, the question more of a gasp than anything as you first try to chase his lips, but then instead let your mouth glance across his jaw, down his neck and over his pulse.

“No,” you answer, kissing your way back up. “I want you to take me home, Frankie.”

He makes it halfway.

Halfway before the hand you’d curled around his bicep slides further and further down, cupping his cock through his jeans, your body leaning across the centre console and your breath hot on his ear: “Pull over.”

He does as you ask, coasting the truck along the dirt shoulder. The road is empty; you’ve only been passing cars once every few minutes thus far. As soon as he shifts into park, your belt clicks open, and you’re shuffling across the seats, swinging one leg over his waist to settle into his lap.

You kiss him hard, licking into his mouth, hands roaming his hair, tugging at the strands. It steals his breaths, pulls low moans from his chest, and you drop your hips, grinding down on him. He palms your hips, tilting his head back against the headrest as all his blood flows south, cock now straining against the zipper of his jeans.

“Would you fuck me right here?” you ask, your mouth sliding across his jaw, to the sensitive spot beneath his ear. “Right now?”

You’re wearing a skirt, and as Frankie opens his mouth to answer you, you grab his wrist, leading his hand right up under the edge of the fabric, between the juncture of your thighs. He hisses when you press his fingers against your underwear, nearly soaked through.

“You feel that?” you murmur, and Frankie feels like he’s drunk, desperate to press his fingers into you, hear more of those noises you’d made when he first kissed you, see what other sounds he can pull from you.

“You’re sure…?” he asks, the words trailing off, one brow arching, and the hand not curled around his wrist moves from his hair to cup his cheek, thumb stretching up to trace his eyebrow.

“I’m sure,” you answer, “if you are.”

It’s a mad shuffle of fabric and hands, you reaching for his belt as he shifts you back slightly, both hands diving beneath your skirt. You moan as he runs his hands over you, unabashedly reaching beneath the elastic of his boxers to pull his cock free. Frankie groans when you lean forward and spit, saliva dripping off the end of your tongue and bullseyeing the tip of his cock. Your palm covers him a second later and his hips lift off the seat, chasing your warmth.

He gets his fingers beneath the band of your underwear, smirks when he strokes you clit and you mewl, your hand stuttering on his cock. “So wet,” he remarks, leaning forward to bury his face in your neck, licking at your pulse. “Wanna spread you out and eat you for days.”

You say his name like a prayer, and Frankie can’t help himself. His fingers pinch the fabric of your underwear and he tugs. The lace rips easily, the soft tearing sound mixing with your breathing and moans.

“I’ll buy you new ones,” he tells you, and you shake your head, sinking down deeper onto his lap, guiding his cock to rut along your soaked pussy. “Fuck.”

“I’m on the pill,” you breathe out, and he nods, “and I’m clean.”

“Same,” he replies, but the word snaps when the tip of his cock catches where you’re the wettest. All you’d have to do is angle your hips and—

You slide onto him in one fell swoop, his cock filling you to the brim. It’s your turn to toss your head back, and your hands move to his shoulders, fingers curling in the fabric of his t-shirt while his return to your hips.

There’s something desperate in the way you move, and Frankie hopes his movements echo yours. He’s never had his cock ridden this hard, and when you grab his chin in one hand, force his eyes up to yours, he knows he’s done for.

“You feel so goddamned good,” he manages to grit out, and the face-splitting grin you give him makes his heart ricochet in his chest.

You tilt your upper body back slightly, and Frankie takes it as an opportunity. He grabs the hem of your shirt and shoves it upward, exposing your bra. Your eyes follow his movements, and you open your mouth, letting him press the hem between your teeth, you keeping it held up while he curls his finger in the cup of your bra and pulls. Your back arches when your nipple becomes exposed, and he moves quickly, latching his mouth around it, scraping his teeth against the sensitive skin.

It’s hard to meet your thrusts, bodies bent in the truck cab as they are, but he does what he can, both hands roving your back as you keep moving, pulling yourself up and slamming back down. A few more thrusts, and he finds your clit with his thumb, fingers curling around your thigh as he strokes it.

“Frankie,” you nearly wheeze, head tilting back on your shoulders, lips parted in the most perfect o-shape. “Oh fuck, god, fuck, I’m gonna—”

“Do it,” he commands, head snapping up to stare you in the face again. Your features are bathed in moonlight, shadowed and illuminated, and he’s struck by how beautiful you are. “Cum for me.”

It ripples through you like a tidal wave, and Frankie feels every single moment. The way you go impossibly tight, every muscle in your body bearing down on him, but your hips still snapping. The way you flood his cock, the way your face screws up with pleasure, hands clawing at his shoulders as you ride him through it. It’s a miracle he doesn’t follow quickly, forcing his body to savour your orgasm before trying to find his own.

You drape yourself over him as you come down, your chest heaving as your hips slow, but don’t stop. He turns his head as you rest yours on his shoulder, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead.

“You look so pretty like this.”

The corner of your mouth quirks. “Fucked out?”

He grins back, hums in approval. “Can’t wait to see what you look like once we actually get home.”

“You didn’t cum yet,” you nearly pout, and he opens his mouth to protest, to tell you he can wait, but you shake your head, a finger over his lips that has his cock twitching inside you. “I wanna see you cum.”

It doesn’t take much. You’re so warm around him, doubly wet from your orgasm, and you ride him impossibly harder. The whole time, your hand cups his jaw, lips near his ear, whispering the dirtiest things that have sparks of pleasure shooting down his spine.

He tries to stifle his shout as he cums, painting your insides, and you swallow the noise, lips covering his, tongue poking past his teeth. He leans his forehead into your chest, tries to catch his breath. “If we were closer to my place, I’d drive the rest of the way just like this.”

You grin like the devil as you slowly disentangle yourself from him, both of you groaning as he slips out of you. He mourns the loss of your weight against him as you shuffle back into your seat, the scent of sex now permeating the air in the truck. It’s intoxicating.

You don’t settle back completely, however, still leaning halfway across the console, your thighs pressed tightly together as you lay your palm on his thigh, resting your head on his shoulder. “I have other ideas as to how we can spend the rest of the drive,” you say, lifting your jaw to kiss his. “How long’s your refractory period?”Oh yes, Frankie thinks to himself, he’s done for. He had a hunch the first time he saw you behind that bar, but now, as he shifts the truck back into drive and feels his cock twitch with attention as your hands roam, he knows it for certain.

#my fics #frankie morales #sleepover sundae #frankie morales fic #frankie morales fanfiction #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x you #triple frontier fic #frankie morales smut #done for

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yournameloveskpop · 3 months

Text

Pool Party Teasing

Paring: Felix x Reader

Summery: Y/N is having fun at her friend’s pool party. When she gets grabbed by Bangchan to jump on the pool with him she loses her swim top and Felix helps her

Style: smut, romance, fluff, friendship

Warning: oral, a lot of teasing, dirty talk

Word Count: 2113

Y/N laughed, the sound mingling with the cacophony of music and chatter that filled the air around the bustling pool party. Her friend had outdone herself this time, inviting a mix of familiar and new faces, creating an electrifying atmosphere. The night sky was a canvas of stars, a perfect backdrop for the evening's festivities.

Yeonjun, with his signature charm, approached Y/N with a playful grin. "Hey, Y/N! Care to join me for a dance?" he asked, his eyes gleaming with excitement.

"Sure, why not?" Y/N replied, her own smile matching his enthusiasm. They moved to the rhythm of the pulsating music, lost in the moment. Yeonjun's hands found their way around her waist as they danced closer, the crowd around them erupting in cheers and whistles.

After a while, Y/N felt the urge to cool off and decided to take a dip in the pool. As she neared the edge, ready to dive in, she felt a pair of strong arms lift her from behind. She turned to see Bangchan, his mischievous smile indicating his playful intent.

"Christopher!" she exclaimed, using his English name in a lighthearted attempt to dissuade him. "Put me down!"

Bangchan just laughed, joined by Chanbin, Hyunjin, and Minho. "No way, Y/N! You're coming in with me!" he declared before leaping into the pool, Y/N still in his arms.

The splash echoed as they hit the water. Y/N emerged, feigning annoyance at Bangchan, who had already swum away, evading her playful splashes. That's when she realized her swim top was gone, lost in the playful chaos.

As she frantically searched for it, she felt a pair of eyes on her. Turning, she saw Felix watching her intently, his expression a mix of concern and curiosity.

"Hey, are you okay?" Felix asked, swimming closer, his tone gentle yet hesitant.

Y/N, one arm self-consciously covering herself, nodded. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just... lost my swim top."

Felix's cheeks turned a shade darker at her words. "Oh, um... do you need help finding it?"

After a fruitless search, Y/N sighed. "I guess I'll have to change. But I can't just walk out like this..."

Felix thought for a moment, then his eyes lit up. "I've got an idea. Climb onto my back, and I'll carry you inside."

Hesitant but seeing no other option, Y/N complied. Felix lifted her effortlessly, making sure she was secure before heading towards the house. As they approached the door, Yeonjun and Soobin blocked their path.

"Where are you two off to in such a hurry?" Yeonjun asked, a playful smirk on his lips.

Felix, maintaining his composure, replied, "Just helping out a friend. Nothing to see here, guys."

Soobin chuckled. "Seems like quite the heroic rescue, Felix."

As Y/N clung to Felix's back, the situation quickly drew the attention of Yeonjun and Soobin. "Hey Felix, what's going on here?" Yeonjun asked with a curious smirk, noticing the unusual scene.

Felix, feeling Y/N's grip tighten, hoisted her up slightly to secure her hold. He could feel the heat of embarrassment rising in his cheeks. "It's nothing, just helping Y/N with a... a little problem," he stammered, trying to sound casual.

Soobin, always observant, tilted his head, "A problem? Everything okay, Y/N?"

Before Y/N could respond, Wooyoung and Chanbin joined the group, their curiosity piqued by the sight. Chanbin, aware of Felix's feelings for Y/N, was quick to intervene. "Felix is just being a good guy, helping out a friend in need. Let's not make a big deal out of it, okay?"

Y/N, feeling a bit exposed and vulnerable, tried to hide herself further against Felix's back. Felix, meanwhile, struggled to maintain his composure, especially with the close contact between them.

Wooyoung laughed, "Alright, Felix the hero! But we're here if you need any help!"

Felix nodded, grateful for the light-hearted diversion. "Thanks, guys, but I've got it under control."

As the group dispersed, leaving them be, Felix finally reached the guest room where Y/N was staying. He gently set her down, trying to maintain a respectful distance. However, as he turned to leave, Y/N reached out, grabbing his hand. Their eyes locked, and Y/N's heart skipped a beat.

"Thank you, Felix," she said, her voice soft but sincere.

Felix, feeling a surge of emotion, nodded. "It's nothing, Y/N. I'm just glad I could help."

The air in the room grew thick with unspoken words and feelings. Y/N, taking a bold step, leaned in and pressed her lips against Felix's in a passionate, heated kiss. Felix, taken aback, responded instinctively, his arms pulling her closer.

Their kiss deepened, and Y/N's hands found their way around Felix's neck, one hand tangling in his hair. Felix's hands roamed her body with an eagerness he couldn't suppress. The frustration of seeing her with others throughout the night – Yeonjun's dance, Bangchan's playful antics – had ignited something within him.

Feeling Y/N's knee rubbing between his legs, Felix pulled back slightly, his voice low and urgent. "Y/N, be careful..."

But Y/N was undeterred, continuing her movements, deepening the kiss. Felix, overwhelmed by the intensity of the moment, quickly locked the door. In a swift motion, he lifted her up, carrying her to the bed, where he gently set her down.

Hovering over her, their lips met again, their moans mingling in the charged air. Felix then moved to her neck, leaving marks that spoke of possession and desire, marks that Y/N welcomed with soft sighs of pleasure.

Felix, looking into Y/N's eyes, asked gently, "Are you sure about this, Y/N? We don't have to..."

Y/N, her eyes shining with certainty, nodded. "I've never been more sure, Felix. I want this, with you."

Relieved and exhilarated by her assurance, Felix adjusted their position for more comfort. His lips found her skin, kissing around her chest with a tenderness that sent shivers down her spine. Their hips met in a synchronized dance, each movement amplifying the waves of pleasure that washed over them.

"Felix," Y/N whispered, her voice laced with a desire that matched his own. "I've been waiting for this moment, just as much as you have."

Felix paused, his breath hitching. "Really? I thought... I mean, I saw you with the others and..."

Y/N cut him off with a soft laugh. "My friend suggested I try to get your attention by being with them. Seems like it worked, huh?"

Her confession made Felix's heart race. He realized just how much they both wanted this moment. Smiling, he began to trail kisses down her belly, slowly moving towards her swim bottoms. His lips against her skin felt like a revelation, especially as he paid attention to her thighs and more sensitive areas.

Y/N's fingers weaved into his hair, encouraging him further, her back arching in response to his touch. "Felix..." she moaned, her voice filled with a mixture of pleasure and longing.

Felix's hands gripped her waist, steadying her movements, intensifying their connection. He looked up at her, his eyes locked with hers, and let out a low hum that resonated with her desires.

"Felix, I'm... I'm close," Y/N gasped, her voice trembling with the intensity of her feelings.

Felix, devoted to her pleasure, continued, unwavering in his actions. Y/N finally reached her peak, crying out his name, her legs wrapping instinctively around him.

Even as she calmed down, Felix's actions persisted, albeit more gently, eliciting a soft whine from Y/N. She gently pushed his head back, signaling enough.

Felix chuckled, a sound filled with affection and satisfaction. He pulled away, his lips glossy from their shared intimacy. Climbing back up, he captured her lips again in a kiss that spoke volumes of their newfound connection and understanding.

Pulling away from their kiss, Felix raised an eyebrow, a hint of playfulness in his tone. "So, you were just trying to read me all night?"

Y/N looked at him with a playful glint in her eyes. "Yes," she admitted, her voice laced with a mischievous undertone.

Felix's gaze drifted to the marks he had left on her skin, and he gently traced them with his fingertips. "Well, these marks will let everyone know they shouldn't touch you like that anymore," he said, his voice deep and low, sending a shiver of delight through Y/N.

He removed his swim shorts, joining her with a careful, intimate closeness. Their hips began to move together in a slow, teasing rhythm.

"And maybe the pretty noises you're making will let them know too," Felix whispered, his breath hot against her ear as he gradually quickened their pace.

Y/N's hands gripped onto Felix's arms, steadying herself. She hummed in response, trying to match his movements. Felix let out a low sigh, his hands gripping her hips firmly. He then spanked her, a bold move that elicited a surprised yelp from Y/N, but she found herself enjoying the sensation.

"You've been quite naughty, teasing me all night like that," Felix murmured, his voice heavy with desire.

They shifted positions, with Y/N kneeling in front of him. The change in angle intensified their connection, each movement sending waves of pleasure through them both.

As they neared their peaks, Felix encouraged Y/N. "Just a little longer," he breathed out.

Y/N couldn't hold back any longer and cried out his name, reaching her climax and gripped the pillow below tightly. Felix followed soon after, his own release marked by a low groan of her name.

Afterward, they collapsed onto the bed, exhausted yet fulfilled. Felix drew Y/N close, planting a gentle kiss on her lips as they lay in comfortable silence.

After a moment, Felix spoke up, his voice soft but certain. "Y/N, will you be my girlfriend?"

Without hesitation, Y/N smiled and whispered, "Yes, Felix. I'd love that." She chuckled softly, finding it cute that he still asked after their moment together.

They lay together for a while longer, basking in the afterglow of their newfound intimacy. Eventually, Felix slipped on his swimming shorts and fetched a cute one-piece swimsuit for Y/N, mindful of her comfort and the need to return to the party eventually.

Y/N, now wearing the one-piece swimsuit, stood up, feeling a slight weakness in her legs from their passionate encounter. Sensing her unsteadiness, Felix wrapped an arm around her, offering support as they made their way out of the bedroom.

As they stepped back into the pool area, they were greeted by the flushed faces of Beomgyu and Hueningkai. The pair had been sent to find Felix and Y/N, as they had been away from the party for quite some time.

"It took you guys forever," Beomgyu said, trying to mask his embarrassment with a light tone.

Hueningkai nodded, avoiding eye contact, "Yeah, everyone's been wondering where you two disappeared to."

Y/N's friend, noticing Beomgyu and Hueningkai's reactions, quickly pieced things together. She made her way over to Felix and Y/N, followed closely by Chanbin, Bangchan, Yeonjun, Soobin, and Taehyun.

"What's with the red faces, guys?" Bangchan asked Beomgyu and Hueningkai, his eyes then shifting to Y/N and noticing the love bites on her skin.

Yeonjun, catching on, let out a low whistle. "Looks like you two had quite the adventure."

Y/N, feeling a mix of embarrassment and happiness, leaned into Felix. "We just needed some air," she said, trying to sound casual.

Felix, with a slight smirk, added, "Yeah, it got pretty hot out here, didn't it?"

Soobin laughed, "Well, I guess that's one way to cool off."

Taehyun, always the observant one, commented, "Seems like more than just cooling off happened."

Chanbin, grinning, nudged Felix. "Looks like you finally made your move, Felix."

Felix, not wanting to divulge too much, simply smiled and pulled Y/N closer. "Let's just say it was a memorable night."

Y/N's friend, with a knowing look, teased, "Well, I'm glad you two found a way to enjoy the party."

The group shared a moment of laughter and playful banter, the atmosphere light and filled with unspoken understandings. As the evening wore on, Felix and Y/N stayed close, their newfound relationship evident in their smiles and the gentle touches they exchanged.

The party continued around them, but for Felix and Y/N, the world seemed to revolve just around them. They had found something special in each other, and as the night progressed, they knew that this was just the beginning of their journey together.

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f10werfae · 2 years

Text

All Worn Out

pairing: Husband!Henry Cavill x Wife!Reader

summary: Movie night turns saucy ( not a joke, sauciest thing i've ever written | think)

Disclaimer: This story is fiction and should not be taken literally, the behaviour is simply imaginative and the content may be inappropriate

Warnings: Spit, Degradation, mentions of lactation, breeding kink, dirty talk, squirting, fingering

-Requests are open!

Likes, Comments and Re-blogs are appreciated♥️

Full Masterlist✨

Henry Cavill Masterlist💫

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(Y/n's P.O.V)

My husband and I had this weekly routine, every Friday no matter what was going on, we would have a movie night with a bunch of takeout. My choice this time was a good old Chinese takeaway, with Henry this time choosing the movie.

After eating our food, we found ourselves situated on the sofa snuggled up together, the intro of the movie playing on the screen.

“What movie did you pick?”

“You’ll find out soon pup” He whispered pressing a soft kiss to my forehead, his arm rubbing up and down my arm softly.

“Hold on is this fifty shades?” I said recognising it, Henry shushing me promptly, his eyes focused on the screen. As the movie went on, the environment around us got tenser, the only source of light coming from the T.V screen which was playing erotic scenes constantly.

None of us moved an inch the entire movie, shortly after the movie had ended we just resumed our normal bedtime routine. Almost as if we just hadn’t watched one of the most sexual movies of all time. Which was unusual, because Henry was always up and ready to initiate sex.

Finishing my skin care routine, I was wearing my usual large sleep shirt, well it was actually Henry’s but we don’t mention that.

Walking back into the bedroom, Henry had already fallen asleep, his body facing my side of the bed. Slipping into the soft fluffy covers beside him, his arm pulled me closer to him subconsciously, his lips giving me a soft often mouthed kiss onto the back of my neck.

“You asleep hun?” I asked quietly, grazing my fingers over the hair covering his arms. His fingers dancing over my stomach.

Hearing him grunt in reply, I turned around in his arms to meet his half lidded eyes.

He smiled softly, and I instantly knew what he wanted.

“H-hen”

“shush love, let me take care of you yeah?”

(Third Person P.O.V)

Y/n let herself submit to Henry's touch, his fingers wandering below her dress shirt, only to discover his lover had decided against wearing anything else.

Smirking against her neck, he got up a bit leaning on his below, letting him overlook her.

“Please Hen, i’ve been waitin'”

“Oh have you sweet girl? Don’t worry, i’ll help you” He smirked darkly, his fingers starting to draw circles on her precious button, whimpers and gasps leaving Y/n's rosy lips.

“Yeah you like that hun?” He asked already knowing her answer, watching her nod helplessly as he spread her folds with his fingers.

His hand diving deeper as he inserted two of his fingers into her honey centre.

“Aw babe you’re absolutely soaked” He cooed almost embarrassing Y/n, “Hen I wan' more” She gasped out, grabbing onto his wrist herself and trying to thrust it into herself. Sexual need now taking over her body.

“Be patient love” Henry then urged her to lift up her shirt, bunching it up above just enough to reveal her breasts. Henry wasting no time at getting his mouth on them, spitting on them, licking them and sucking on them. Tugging on Y/n's nipple with his teeth before letting it go, only to let his lips wander over it all over again.

Henry watched in awe as he thrusted his fingers rapidly in and out of her, watching as her breasts bounced crazily with the way her body was reacting.

“Henry, Henry i’m gonna-“

“Oops sorry luv” Henry chuckled, pulling his fingers out, watching the wetness that had collected

“Look babe, you got my ring all wet, you dirty girl”

He growled out watching his gold wedding ring shine against the soft lamp that let out a soft yellow glow over their corner of the room.

Y/n whined at the loss in contact, a shade of red glossing over her cheeks as she listened to how Henry taunted her.

“Open your mouth”

Henry's hands went to her jaw holding it open as he hovered above her, licking his fingers clean before letting a glob of spit drip from his tongue onto her outstretched one. Lust clouded of their eyes, their tongues meeting in an open mouthed kiss, saliva covering both of their lips and chins.

As Y/n tastes herself she couldn’t help but feel so rushed out by the adrenaline, every time her and Henry had sex she felt this way. It was absolutely amazing.

Letting their tongues wrestle it out, Henry felt Y/n's fingers already palming his hardened cock in his boxers. Smiling into the kiss Y/n was elated at the fact that she had never failed to get Henry excited, only showcasing even more how they were made for each other, both physically and emotionally.

Without another word being spoken, he rid himself of his boxers, looking into Y/n's eyes as she nodded giving him permission to slowly push himself inside her. Both of them sighing out in relief at the fact they were finally full of each other.

Sitting up, he held onto both of her legs by his shoulders, slowly picking up the pace; Y/n's beautiful mouth falling into a perfect “O” Moans leaving her mouth as she tried to hold onto Henry's hands.

Leaning forward with her legs now bent over his shoulders, his cock drove into her wet pussy, his hips smacking continuously against hers. Creating a lewd wet sound due to Y/n's wetness now leaking down her thighs.

“F-fuck Hen, I l-love you so much” She cried out, her hands cupping Henry’s face, their foreheads against each other’s.

Dipping his tongue into her mouth once more, Y/n found herself sucking onto Henry’s tongue almost as if it was his cock, finding other ways to taste him even more.

“You are so fucking dirty, my own wife slut” Henry groaned out once Y/n had stopped her work on his tongue, Y/n and Henry’s face wet with spit and sweat.

Henry instantly pulled out, both of them whimpering at the loss of contact. Henry pulled her up and forced her onto all fours.

“You doin alright baby?” He whispered checking in on her over her shoulder, his hands grabbing onto her brings which were now dangling down.

Smiling at her husbands still caring nature, she smiled and said yes, turning her head halfway bringing him in for another filthy wet kiss.

“God I really do love you” He moaned out not wasting any time putting himself back inside her, her back arching and near making her fall due to the immense amount of pleasure.

Holding her up against him by palming her breasts, Henry found himself nearing his first orgasm, while Y/n was near tipped over the edge.

Doubling back over the bed, Y/n screamed out in pleasure as she squirted over the bed, wetting both Henry and the soft cotton sheets.

“S-sorry Hen, I didn’t mean to sq- OH”

In the midst of her apology, Henry had started pummelling back into her, Y/n felt a shock go through her body with the overstimulation.

Letting her back down to support herself, Henry held onto her hips from behind, slipping one of his hands onto her clit from behind.

“Fuck baby, tell me what you want me to do to you”

“Fucking cum inside me baby, get me all round and big with your baby yeah?

“Want my baby batter all up in you?”

Despite the odd choice of words, it only left Y/n feeling even more horny if that was even possible. Making her nod rapidly in response.

Henry tugged on her hair making her turn round to look at him, spitting onto her face just missing it by a little bit.

He smirked as his wife’s tongue went out, collecting any that had missed her mouth, sticking her tongue out at him before swallowing it all.

“Baby, i’m going to cum” He groaned out going even harder, his thrusts although getting sloppier.

“Cum inside me baby, i’ve been waiting to be a mommy”

“My wife? A mommy, givin me her beautiful big tits to nurse on?”

“Mhm all for you Hen, make me your mommy slut”

She screamed out as they both came together, Henry collapsing on top of her, but holding his waist up by his arms. Throwing himself to the side, Henry felt his loving wife snuggling up to his side, Y/n's head finding her usual spot on his chest, her arm stretched over his torso.

“Did you mean it? Wanting to have kids with me” Henry whispered out, his hand resting on her head, gently brushing the hair out of her face.

“Of course I did hun, I’m deeply in love with you. I have no worries that you’ll be a great daddy to our kids” She croaked out, her voice now hoarse.

Henry noticing the difference sat up and reached over for his bottle of water. Picking up Y/n to lean against him, he tilted her head up and helped her to drink some water. Also grabbing a tissue in the mean time, cleaning away remnants of their lovemaking from her face and then her body.

“Wanna take a shower love?”

“No jus wanna cuddle with you Hen, too tired”

“Alright then, I love you so much”

“I love love love you too Hen” She giggled out, hearing Henry swat her ass as he laughed out too.

#romance #henry cavill x you #henry cavill x female reader #henry cavill #henry cavill x reader #rpf #henry cavill fandom #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill oneshot #fanfiction #x reader

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abouttofillhisshoes · 15 days

Text

You said some day we might - M.H x Reader // pt.3

A/N: This one's a bit NSFW (minors please don't interact), also angsty and sad at parts. TW for hard drugs, take care of yourselves! This is loosely based off of my own experience, and I am not trying to glamorize it. Ily my dearest @beforeyougo-turnthebiglightoff for making sure it isnt shit xx

wc: 4k

part four

Picture a scene: flashing lights all around you, colors blinding as they move through the room, seemingly liquid. Music pounding in your head, almost as if it was trying to force its way into your body. People sweating, dancing up against strangers. You feel alive.

Matty dances next to you, throwing his hands up into the air. You can hear screams as the music changes, now playing Britney Spears’ ‘Toxic’. He wouldn't admit it if you held a gun to his head, but he loves this song. Your hips sway to the beat, and you can feel arms on your waist. It's not Matty. The fuck?

You didn't know this guy, but his hands were grabbing at you roughly like you were supposed to. His grin disgusted you. (Not so) politely shoving him off, you dance toward Matty, tapping his shoulder three separate times. That was code for ‘bathroom, now’. He nods, taking your hand and leading you towards the edge of the crowd. The sea of people thins out as you finally spot the glowing sign for the loo.

“You alright?” He asks as you enter the bathroom. The walls were covered in graffiti, stickers, and the occasional phone number. There wasn't the classic smell of piss and sweat, which is why you liked Sound. It was fairly clean. The sinks were made of metal, and so was everything else. The lights were dim, and the mirrors dirty, lipstick stains adorning the edges. You can hear the faint noise of toilets flushing in the background.

“I'm fine, I s’pose, just that guy was rubbing up against me all weird.” You fix your hair in the mirror, refreshing your eyeliner before passing it to Matty so he could do the same. You had taught him how to do it himself, saving you a load of time and effort whenever you were getting ready together. Tonight's color was red, both of you were wearing the same shade.

The stall door flings open as a girl stumbles out, almost falling before she caught herself on the hand dryer. Fixing her bra strap, she wiped the edges of her mouth clean before reaching into her small blue handbag. Out comes a small baggie with white powder in it. You immediately recognise it. Blow.

While you and Matty smoked copious amounts of weed, neither of you had ever tried anything harder. An exception was the occasional acid trip, and even that was a one off on Ross’ 18th birthday.

Both you and Matty watch her intently as she starts cutting up lines on the edge of the sink, not caring that both your eyes were on her. She takes out a £5 note, rolling it before snorting the line. Her hair is wild as she lifts her head back up, turning to the mirror to fix it.

“D’you fancy some, love? I have plenty for you,” she looks over to Matty, flashing him a smile “and your friend, as well.”

It takes you a split second to realize her statement was directed at you. Matty turns to make eye contact, before doing something you didn't expect.

He nods, taking a step towards the girl. You do the same. ‘If you're going to try it’, you thought, trying to rationalize, ‘who better than with Matty?’

She shakes more of the powder onto the sink, cutting two lines for the both of you, and one more for herself. You notice the card she uses is a school I.D. A high school I.D.

She hands you the rolled up note first, and for some reason, you feel calm. ‘This is fine’ you repeat in your head, before opening your mouth to speak.

“This is blow, yeah?” you ask, looking up at her from your position, which was currently hunched over the sink. It's cold, colder than it was.

“Yeah, clean shit too, don't worry,” she offers a genuine smile, stroking your hair with her long, black nails. You steal a glance at Matty, who was now sitting on the sink next to you, watching closely. You nod, turning back to the line of white powder in front of you

You take a deep breath before snorting the line. It burns as it travels through your nostrils, and you don't feel anything for a second.

And then, it hits you.

It hits you fast. Everything feels amplified, and you barely register as Matty snorts his. You feel good, euphoric even. Matty feels the same way, letting out a shout when he does lift his head from the sink.

The girl was long gone when you exited the bathroom and reentered the crowd. You danced with Matty, the music controlling your movements. Deciding to get a drink, you drag him to the bar. The bartender looks you up and down, before shaking his head. He knew you were on something, but that wasn't a rarity in clubs like Sound. Everyone was on something, so, fuck it! Why couldn't you do the same?

Matty orders for you. A french martini and a glass of Malbec for him. The bartender raised his eyebrows at his drink order. “Who orders wine at a club?” he shouts over the music. Matty rolls his eyes before responding “I do! Why, d’you fancy buying me a drink when you get off?” he winks at him provocatively before taking the drinks from the counter.

He hands you your drink, bringing his hand up to your face, wiping off the smudged makeup underneath your eyes. That's when you realize how hot it was. ‘Fucking hell’ you thought. ‘When did it get so hot? Jesus Christ, it's like I'm in a sauna’.

Matty had downed his glass of wine in two large gulps, wiping his mouth on the sleeve of his your wine red jumper. You rake your eyes over his body, a thin layer of sweat shone on his forehead. His eyeliner was somehow still perfect.

He was perfect.

March, 2008 // two months earlier

The mid afternoon sun was beating down onto your skin. The blanket beneath you molding to the ridges of the earth, digging into your back. You were lying in a field, surrounded by daisies and dandelions blowing softly in the breeze, a half-empty packet of crisps on your left. Your arms were sprawled out to the side, with Matty lying peacefully on top of you.

Adam had situated himself on a flimsy fold up chair. He hated sitting on the ground with a burning passion. You had promptly forgiven him for leaving you to fend for yourselves that past weekend, seeing as he promised to pay club covers for a month as an apology. Just you though, seeing as Matty would have abused the ever living hell out of Hann’s wallet if given the chance.

George and Ross were in the lake located a few dozen meters from where you were sitting, having a swim. The weather was uncharacteristically nice given that you were in Great Britain, land of miserable weather, so the five of you had set out for a makeshift picnic at the last minute.

It wasnt aesthetically pleasing by any means, with fag packets litering the dirty old blanket Ross had found in an old closet. Ross’ beer bottles were lined up at the edge of the blanket. You grab a pack, presumably Georges, and light up. Marlboro golds, not your favorite, but they’ll do. Breathing in the smoke, you turn your head to get a better look at Matty, who was draped over you, using your chest as a pillow.

You wore Mattys sunflower shirt, unbuttoned, revealing a black sports bra underneath. He, in turn, wore one of your tops. Specifically, a lavender baby tee with the words ‘dump him’ scrawled across the chest in white glitter. Adam was dressed like a divorced dad, beige linen trousers paired with a Metallica band shirt. You laughed when you saw him, knowing he’d be sweating in under an hour wearing that.

Soft music played in the background, the speaker having been lost underneath the pile of Ross and George's clothes. The air smelled of summer, even if it was only March. You spot the wine bottle in Mattys hand as he tilted his head up, taking a drink. You tap him on the arm, and he hands you the bottle.

White wine? Matty rarely drank white wine. You brushed it off, it was probably just the cheapest thing at the store. Matty loved expensive red wine, but did not have the money to pay for it, always settling for the bottle with the lowest price tag. Your attention is drawn to George screaming incoherent curses at Ross for throwing a rock at him. Absolute knobheads.

“D’you reckon we need sunscreen? I don't wanna age my skin anymore than it already has.” he asked, his fingers lingering on his face. His skin was perfect, not a single blemish tarnishing it. “I dunno, I don't think we need to. It's not that hot.” you answer, looking around you. “It's not looking like we have any anyway” you add.

You could feel Mattys' breath on you, ghosting over your chest. His legs moved, brushing against yours. You were suddenly very aware of the fact he was laying on top of you. It made you feel hot, and not because of the sun.

He rolled on top of you, now straddling your legs. He was clearly drunk, slurring his words. His eyes stared into yours with such an intensity, you would've thought he was trying to read your mind. His face was bare, but the glitter from last night's adventures still stained his face, giving him a slight shine.

A smile crept onto his face as he brushed his hair out of his face. The blonde highlights had slightly grown out by now, and you made a mental note to ask him if he wanted you to do his roots.

“Didnt you want to cut my hair?” He asked, and you recognised that look in his eye. Excitement. He jumps up, crawling to get his bag.

“I brought a pair of scissors, d’you wanna cut it now?” He held up pink kitchen scissors, handing them to you as you moved to a sitting position.

“Are you sure? These are not meant for ha-” “I don't careee, just do it!” he slurred, cutting you off and settling between your crossed legs. He turns and looks at you expectantly, and you sigh in defeat.

You try your best, snipping away at his hair randomly. Cutting layers into his hair, you try to make the strands around his face shorter. He giggles as it tickles his face, brushing it off his skin. The sun made him appear as if he were glowing, painting him in an orange hue. Trying not to cut it too short, you tug at it to get a good idea of the length.

A soft groan escapes Mattys mouth, and he tries to pass it off as a cough, avoiding your gaze. A few minutes later, you tug at it again. A little experiment , if you will. This time, the noise is slightly clearer, and his whole body twitches. He busies himself with the bottle of wine in his hands, inspecting the label.

He admires your work in a little compact mirror you had found in your bag. “So.. do you like it? Or have I completely fucked your hair?” you ask, watching his reflection. Matty grins, slamming the mirror shut.

“I love it! The layers make me look hot, so you did your job right!” He pulled you in for a hug, kissing all over your face: He was obviously drunker than you thought.

You lay back on your elbows, closing your eyes, letting the sun shine onto your skin. This was nice. You felt truly alive.

—---------------------------------------------------------

Skin against skin, soft moans filled the room. You didn't even know who they belonged to. Desire took over your bodies like a foreign force. The room was dark, the only light coming from the streetlamp just outside, illuminating the space.

“Fuck- can I?” hands trailed down your chest, toying with the buttons of your shirt. You nod frantically, smashing his lips back against yours. You find his hair, pulling slightly as he lets out a pathetic whimper. You drink in the noise as if it was the very essence of life, tugging even harder at the curls. Curls. Matty.

“Mmh- ah, fuck-” You can feel him against your thigh. You can feel Matty grinding against you. The thought makes your head spin, and you throw your head back, your hair splayed over the baby blue pillows. Mattys pillows.

“You're so- you’re so beautiful, just let me- i’ll-” he cuts himself off, trailing his lips down your jaw, leaving searing, hot kisses in his wake. His mouth makes contact with your collarbone, biting down. You hiss, your nails digging into his scalp. He groans. Matty

His rough hands rub the tattoo on your hip, you feel his rough calluses. You pull his hair, making him look at you. Your eyes rake over his face, the glitter around his eyes shimmering in the faint light. His hand comes up to push your shirt up, the material bunching up where his mouth had just been. You make eye contact again.

He grins before licking one long stripe along the expanse of your ribcage, letting out an obscene moan as he did. He was putting on a show, for you. The noise goes straight to your core.

His fingers snap the elastic of your black underwear, making you jump. A laugh. Teeth graze your hip bone, tracing the tattoo. You can feel him slipping the lace down your thighs, licking and sucking lower, lower, lower…

You jolt awake suddenly, hot sweat running down your back. You turn to look at the time. 2:53am.

What the fuck was that?

You close your eyes, the dream replaying in your head. Lips, your lips and his. Teeth, kisses down your neck, Matty, Matty, Matty-

You stop yourself, shoving your face into a pillow. This can't be happening. This wasn't real. This was all hallucination and you didn't just have a wet dream involving your best mate.

Letting out a groan, you lay back down facing the wall. You desperately, desperately needed a good lay. If it had come to you having fucking dreams about Matty of all people, you knew it was time to find a guy and just shag him. That would solve your little predicament, you were sure of it.

—------------------------------------------------------------

Admiring yourself in the mirror, you hike the ruched material of your dress up even further. Jewelry covered you from head to toe, complimenting the details of your bag perfectly. Hair done up in curls, you knew you were ready.

You were going out. Alone.

The heel of your shoe clicked nervously against the pavement as you queued, giving the bouncer, James, a nod as he waved you through. “No Matty today?” he questioned, referring to the fact that you were alone.

“Yeah, I'm out alone tonight. Matty is… sick. The flu.” you lie through your teeth, not wanting to disclose the real reason behind your solo-mission. The plan was to find a guy, any guy, and forget about that godforsaken dream.

The music was loud, even louder than usual, and you were stone cold sober. Not good.

Making your way to the bar, you order your usual, a french martini. Tobias, the bartender, handed your drink, and you close out. You didn't want to get hammered tonight.

Your fingers drum along to the beat as you sip your drink, scanning the crowd. There weren't many people dancing, seeing as it was a Sunday night. Most had work in the morning, so going out wasn't an option. He had asked you if you really didn't want anything else, even offering you a drink in the house. You politely decline with a shake of your head, assuring him it was alright.

Suddenly, a tall man appeared in your peripheral vision. You had seen him a few times before, wandering about, flirting with the female waitresses. Blonde hair, blue eyes. The complete opposite of Matty. His arm rested against the bar, and you could see him flexing his muscles. On purpose. Jesus.

He strolled up to you with an air of confidence. Turning to Tobias, he asked him what your drink was. “A french martini,” he answered, looking you up and down “and she's only had one the entire night.” The man laughs, “Well that wont do! Let me buy you a drink sweetheart, on me.”

You nod, turning to face him. A smile makes its way onto your lips. Perfect .

He introduces himself as David. He works an office job down the road, something something marketing. You didn't really listen to him, only laughing when he paused, expecting it

He seemed solid, and he was 19, so not too old. You really didn't want to deal with another Phillip situation. He had bought you three, quite pricey, drinks, and you knew he wanted more.

He eventually asked if you wanted to come back to his place for some wine. You agreed, letting yourself be led out of the club by your wrist. James winked at you knowingly as you left.

He had a silver Toyota, the interior a cream leather. It was a big difference to Hann’s beaten up red Kia, but you weren't complaining. He was nice enough, opening the car door for you.

The inside of his flat reeked of sickly sweet vanilla and cheap cologne. He opened a bottle of wine for the both of you, pouring two glasses. The conversion was mundane, but he was nice enough. You had switched your phone off, not wanting anything to distract you from your mission. He had made a move to sit next to you, his hand trailing up your thigh, inching higher with every word he uttered.

His mouth was against your ear, whispering sweet nothings into it, his other hand finding your chest, pushing you down onto the sofa. You let him move you, twist you as he pleased. It didn't mean anything to you, you just needed to get Matty out of your head. Matty.

His hands were soft, like he moisturized them regularly. You could feel his lips on your chest, leaving bite marks and kisses, but you didn't feel anything. Closing your eyes, you decide to let him do all of the work. You had even worn your only pair of lace underwear, a black number with a little bow on the front of the matching bra. The same pair you had worn in the dream.

You mentally curse yourself, kissing David deeper, harder than you did before. Forget, forget, forget.

—--------------------------------------------------------------------------

He wasn't the worst, but at least he tried. You tried to give him the benefit of the doubt. Laying on his (quite expensive looking) leather couch, you watch him as he gets dressed. He asks you if you need anything, and you answer with a shake of your head. You just wanted to leave.

A phone buzzes, and you quickly realize it's yours. You pick it up, the screen lighting up. 3 missed calls from Matty, and 4 texts from him as well.

// Where r you? I’m at your window.

// Are you well?

// Answer me for fucks sake, dont do this.

// I hope you’ve died or smth, you’re well fucking me off.

You sigh, clicking the call button. It rings for a split second before Matty picks up.

“Now you decide to ring me back? I thought you’d been picked up by a sex trafficker or something. Fuck you, honest,” his voice sounded worried, even tired, if you ignored the nature of his words.

“Sorry mate, I was out.” You answer curtly, trying to keep your voice steady. Your fingers tap against the glass of the coffee table, and you hear Matty inhale sharply.

“Out where? And why did it take me three calls and four messages to get a ring back?” he sounded more aggressive this time, and you could tell he had gotten up from wherever he was sitting. This pissed you off. Why does he have the right to know where you are, it didn’t concern him in the slightest, and he wasn't your father. You told him as much.

“I was out, alright? I'm at David's place right now, and I'll be at yours in an hour, cool?” A moment of silence passes between you two before Matty spits out. “Whos the fuck is David?” The way he said his name made it sound like you had shagged his worst enemy, not some random guy.

“He's just a bloke I met at Sound, I went to his place. D’you want me over or should I fuck off home?” The second option was just a courtesy, you were sure he’d want you over. You hadn’t seen each other since Friday.

“Nah, it's alright, go home.” His voice sounded cold, unfeeling. A shudder made its way up your spine. He didn't sound like himself at all. What the fuck? “I have erm.. work to catch up on. You understand.” No you didnt fucking understand.

You open your mouth to protest, but are rudely interrupted by a faint noise. The dial tone. Matty had hung up on you. Your mouth let out a gasp in disbelief. Fuck him. Fuck him all the way.

You gather your things. While trying to find your shoes, David comes back into the room. You tell him you need to leave, and he tries to kiss you goodbye. It feels wrong.

Deciding to walk barefoot, you do the walk of shame at 1 in the morning. Heels in one hand, your purse in the other, you trudge down the pavement. You feel dirty, like you did something inherently wrong.

Cars whizz by you, and you hear sirens in the background. It's cold, and you can feel goosebumps forming on your skin in the soft breeze. Feeling around for your cigarettes, you come across something small towards the bottom of your purse. You pull it out, your eyes widening at the sight. The lighter. Mattys lighter.

The white letters on the side point and laugh at you. You can hear it. It was even more chipped than it was that night, how did it still work? M.H. Matty.

In a fit of rage you chucked the lighter onto the ground in front of you. It splinters off, the metal top flying off onto the road. A car drives over it. You were angry. Angry at yourself for even going out alone. For going home with fucking David. You were angry at Matty for being angry at you. You didn't even understand why, but the mere fact he had hung up on you made your blood boil.

The lighter was now in pieces beneath your feet. The white letters, illegible. Feeling powerful, you decide to kick the rest of the plastic off onto the road, hoping a giant truck would run it over. You wanted Matty at your feet like this, pathetic and powerless. You needed him like this, to show him he can't just hang up on you like you're nothing.

The mental image of Matty at your feet made warmth spread throughout your body. On his knees, looking up at you with glassy, glitter framed eyes. You wanted to take his beautiful hair and weave it between your fingers, forcing him to look up at you. You wanted to hear the pathetic whimpers escape his mouth, just like they did in your dream.

You feel breathless, staring at the wet pavement where the lighter once was. You keep walking.

#i like this one alot #angst #smut??#smut #the 1975 #matty healy #ross macdonald #adam hann #george daniel #matty the 1975 #drive like i do #matty healy x you #matty healy angst #matty healy smut #fluff?#sort of i guess

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sagephilosophie · 7 days

Text

No Entrance⃠

┆Mochizuki “Mochi” K.

ʙᴏᴜɴᴄᴇʀ!ᴍᴏᴄʜɪ x ꜰᴇᴍ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

˗ˏˋ ★ Tags ˎˊ˗

NSFW, Choking, Hair-pulling, Degradation, Belly Bulge, Spit As Lube, Rough Sex, Breeding, Semi-Public Sex, Teasing, Hook-Up, reader has a vagina, Making Out, Dirty Talk.

˗ˏˋ ★ Word Count ˎˊ˗ : 1,319

AO3

Your friend kept trying to get your attention all night, the loud music in the nightclub didn't help them much, some of your once sober friends even gave up on you and got back to having fun.

The club was jam packed that saturday night, bunch of your drunk friends grinding on each other, dancing, and hitting on random strangers, and the rest went to the back to puke, but all in all completely wasted.

But you, on the other hand, sat still in your seat, only kept your eyes on the well built bouncer guarding the VIP room facing your table, maybe it was the alcohol kicking in, but no one in a club full of horny poeple managed to captivate you like he did.

Watching him throughly, posing with his arms crossed, flexing those muscles, with a stern look on his face, made you frot your legs together and bite your lips slightly.

Your head began creating hot cinematic love scenes where that veiny hand chokes you and your cervix is getting fucked mercilessly by his relentless hip movements as you come undone on his massive cock.

The alcohol were pushing you to make a move on him and make your daydreams come true, but you wondered if he was even gonna notice you, unlike everyone around that came here to have fun on a Saturday night, he came to do his job, and jobs are the opposite of a saturday night fun.

Just as you couldn't look away, he noticed your stares and glanced back at you, your arousal between your legs gushed like a waterfall, and the imaginary scenarios in your head went wild, any rational person in your position would have looked away or just waved, but that one drunk and horny braincell inside your head said 'fuck it we only live once' and had you winking at him.

He gave you a smirk that lifted your hopes high up to the roof and that was all you needed to approach him, neither of you broke eye contact as you walked towards him and pushed everyone out of your way, making sure to pose seductively before him.

"Hey there, handsome~", you began to chat him up.

"Hey doll, I saw you eyeing me the whole night, let me guess, you want a free VIP entrance, doncha ?"

"Perhaps... i do need an entrance...", you threw one arm over his shoulder, your hands seperating between touching his wide neck and laying on his chest, running your finger all over him, while closing the distance between both of you.

He grabbed your hand from his neck and you yelped at his strong grip, "Well nice try, sweetheart, but no entrance granted."

The man, written on his name tag [MOCHI], had no idea how turned on and inspired he got you with his beefy physique.

It took all your willpower to not moan his name out loud.

"Aw babe... i don't need that entrance... i only came around to grant you entrance~"

"Oh yeah ?", Mochi grinned widely, revealing all his front teeth, "Where to ?"

The outcome of this converstation was going in your favor, so you smiled back and whispered in his ear, "Paradise~"

All of a sudden, a harsh grip on your hair dragged you to the back entrance, your back hit the wall as soon as the door opened, and you whined when a hand interlocked with your neck.

"Just so you know, i don't do gentle, so you better not be a fragile bitch."

"Sounds fun ♡"

"Fucking slut.", Mochi dived into your mouth and kissed you roughly, slipping in his tounge for a messier open-mouthed kiss.

The music was still faintly playing in the background but you couldn't give two fucks about it as your makeout session was getting more heated and pleasurable, Mochi choking you was the cherry on top.

Lust was eating you alive as the muscular man pulled you off of him forcefully, turned you around to press you more towards the wall and rising your already short dress to your upper back. You yelped when a hand came down and smacked your ass cheek, then another on your other cheek, another after another, and your moans kept getting higher with each slap.

"What is it you fucking whore ? Already can't handle me ♡ ?"

You can only answer him with moans synchronizing with his echoing spankings, which only fed his sadistic needs, "Pathetic..."

The striking stopped and Mochi caressed your swollen buttocks to spread them, you wondered if he was gonna get straight to the point but your thoughts were cut short when you felt liquid falling down on your folds, the sudden sensation sent shivers to your spine that you had to turn your neck to see his saliva rubbing on your exposed vagina.

Mochi spat again down your clit and used two of his fat fingers to smear them inside your hole hurriedly, "Too small, can't risk you passing out on me."

Your eyes rolled back to your head at the shape of his fingers inside you, he kept fingering you carelessly until he concluded you were wet enough to take him.

He got back up straight and pulled down his uniform pants with visible desire on his face, your neck almost snapped from the sudden rotation, you absolutely needed to see how big he was, and you were not disappointed; he had a massive raging red 10-incher, hard and ready to tango.

You could already visualize your gravestone written on it 'IN LOVING MEMORIES OF THIS WHORE. DEATH BY DICK.' and happily embracing that idea, because even if he kills this pussy, you'll atleast die happy.

"Cat got your tounge ?", Mochi's mocking voice sent you back down to earth.

"Waiting for your move anytime now, big guy, take your time ♡"

It's one of which, your reverse mockery didn't sit right by him or it turned him on, either way he grabbed your leg leading it to his shoulder, putting you in a ballerina position, "You talk too big for a little cumslut."

You had no time to remark on that when he shoved himself inside you and you couldn't even hear yourself screaming his name.

He wasn't lying when he said he don't do gentle, his thrusts were ruthless with no care for you or your pain tolerance, you couldn't convince yourself to care either when he sent both his hands to your neck and showed you stars.

The peak was unimaginably good. Your hole welcomed his size with open arms and your orgasm was the one chasing after him like there was no other point in life other than to get fucked stupid by him all night long.

Mochi wasn't going to let you taste that sweet taste of reaching your climax so fast, everytime you feel close he will pull out and edge you to tears, it was clear he had plans to make you come undone on his cock tonight.

When you ignored your own voice for a moment, the lewd sounds of his breathing and grunts turned you on further and added to the pleasurable torture you were living, everything about him drove you crazy, his veiny hands that's now bruising your hips, his dark eyes from the reflection of the metal pipe in front of you, his bulge constantly peaking from your belly, oh lord...

His sudden loud moans cought you off guard as his speed increased unrealistically fast, you could've sworn you went to heaven and back when he filled your insides with white.

He let go of you to catch his breath, and you were still is a whole new world after that, the obvious sounds of Mochi wearing his pants back on was the only thing that helped you realise how real that whole situation was.

"Doll..."

"Hm?"

"That was fun, maybe we can do that again sometime, in the VIP room."

@sagephilosophie

#i write!#mochizuki kanji #mochi #mochizuki kanji x reader #mochizuki kanji smut #tokyo revengers oneshot #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers smut #tokyo revengers #tokrev x reader #tokrev smut #tokrev #vee's

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oreotoreads · 2 years

Text

EVERYTHING IS NOT WHAT IT SEEMS

PART 1 : GOOD BOY GONE BAD ⏤ read other parts: NEXT | MASTERLIST

pairing: dom!jake x fem!reader WC: 6k!

genre: smut with a plot, one night stand (idk what the actual genre is tbh)

summary: your handsome one night stand that blew your mind turns out to be the silent guy at work that you didn’t even realize his existence.

warnings: rough sex, protected sex & unprotected sex, spit play, cum play, spanking, humiliation, reader goes into sub drop (read at your own risk ⚠️) after care after sub drop, jake’s name is revealed later, oral (both receiving), slight slapping, slight hair pulling, dirty talking. warn me if there is more!

a/n: there is definitely going to be a part to this because i intentionally ended it with a cliffhanger!! thank you @mechurihanbin for the request<3 this is my first time writing about sub drop as well so i hope i was ok, again since it contains explicit scenes, read at your own risk besties, thank you for showing love to my works, you are so loved🫶🏼

taglist: @muffinminnie @zhaixiaowen @zen003xx (send an ask to be added to my taglist)

you were pulled by your friends to a night club on a typical saturday night for a classic girl’s night, you knew the main reason behind these night outs in specific clubs, to get mad drunk and probably end up in someone’s bed that you’ll never see again. although you usually did this sometimes, you couldn’t give less fucks tonight because you just wanted drink away all the stress your job was causing you. and also you kind of guessed no man could fuck the stress out of your system the way you deserved.

although, when you were on your second glass of drink only and definitely sober enough to tell if a guy was hot, you spotted a black haired stranger across you, his back leaned against the bar as he was chatting with his friends casually. his chest was covered in his very tight and definitely ironed black dress shirt, his first buttons were open, showing his smooth skin. his hair was falling down to his forehead in a styled but messy way, and his hands holding his glass and sometimes dancing them on it made your heart race faster. he was definitely your type.

when his eyes met your hungry gaze you wanted to look away immediately because he had a slight frown on his face when he saw you for the first time, next time you checked him, you caught him staring at you shamelessly, tracing his tongue inside of his cheek as he scanned you from head to toe, it tickled your stomach and raised your sensitivity as you felt a bolt arousal tingled your clit. you never felt this way only from a boy’s gaze at you, the way he almost undressed you only with his eyes made you feel so desired and damn you missed that feeling so much since you barely went on dates from how hard you worked.

next thing you remember was you were pinned against the lift’s wall as he was taking you to a hotel suit, and his hands were keeping your thighs open as he caressed them. making out with a stranger in a semi public place, plus knowing it probably has security cameras and some poor staff watching you get your neck sucked by someone’s son made you even hornier and dirty.

his kiss tasted like this drink and it was so delicious, it made you suck on his bottom lip so harshly, eliciting a deep groan from his throat, only making your cunt drip more to your panties, making a creamy mess without him touching you.

his cologne was so familiar, woody and musky, the animalistic note filled your nostrils and made you kiss him even harder.

getting out of the elevator, he grabbed your hand, literally dragging you to the room after finding the key card with shaky hands, that was when you realized you made him feel just as excited as you were, you wanted to feel his lean fingers inside of you so badly.

the way he threw you to the bed and pulled up your dress to your boobs to see your destroyed panties happened in seconds, leaving you all red and shy in front of him.

“what a needy girl you are.” he tsked, leaning over you to push his tongue inside of your mouth, and pull you into another messy make out session. you were eager for him to touch you down there but the moment you saw his eyes you knew he was trouble and would make you beg for every drip of satisfaction.

he stopped kissing you to look at you from where he was, smirking at your parted lips that is leaving soft whimpers and breaths. he got rid of your dress in a swift way, leaving the expensive piece of material on the floor, you were only wearing your ruined little panties while he was fully clothed on top of you.

he slapped one of your tit, earning a yearning moan from you before kneading your boob, almost as to massage away the burn he caused to your skin. oh how fuckable you looked down under him, your pretty pink lips parted, your eyes hazily staring at him and your thighs rubbing against each other, he swore he saw a drip of arousal running down your leg.

he picked up the shot of arousal with his fingers before they were about to run down to your knee, and stuck his fingers to his mouth, the way his pretty lips sucked on his fingers made your eyes roll to the back of your skull.

“time for you to taste me now” you heard him mumbling before your hair was gripped by his hands to the back and your back arched to the action, a thick load of his spit coating the back of your throat. you immediately closed your lips to press your tongue on the top of your mouth, trying to get a better taste of him. his laugh filled your ears before a pathetic gaze took over his eyes.

“dirty slut, if my spit is making you—“ he suddenly snaked his hand inside of your panties, fingers rubbing on your hole before he draw it back with a string of your cum connected to his index finger, “—this wet, bet you would squirt all over me if i cum in this filthy mouth?” he grabbed your chin and spat in your mouth again, watching you swallow in pleasure. “right?”

you frantically nodded, the image of you squirting on his lap and making a mess only made you even wetter if it was even possible at this point.

the stranger you didn’t even get to know his name yet was giving you the best treatment your body was longing for. you craved this kind of sex for a long time but you were always embarrassed to ask your partners what you actually wanted.

now getting to experience this with someone that you were never going to see and that matched your ideal type in the sexual way, you felt so free and relaxed. a stranger literally spitting in your mouth and bullying you satisfied your deepest darkest desires that you carried for years.

his hands wrapped around your throat as he towered you, sitting between your legs. applying slight pressure to your throat, he cut the air flow little bit, the mouth that was recieving his spit now opened to get a hitch of breath.

he studied your reaction, as he just stared at you, but he had to make sure, so this moment gave you the very first soft side of him yet. he leaned down and placed a kiss on your neck, before he whispered against your ear, “tell me if you are enjoying this, angel.”

he let go of his hand on your neck for you to reply. it was going to be your first time talking after he came up to you in the club to flirt and you asked if he can fuck you senseless shamelessly.

“talk.” he grunted when he didn’t get a reply, slapping your cheek lightly to get the blood running back to your head.

you felt like your mind was getting hazy, you remembered that one time your friend talked about how she fell into sub drop after being fucked so hard. your eyelashes fluttered and you licked your lips in an innocent way, which made his cock twitch in his pants.

“i do, i enjoy… a lot. i want your cock too, please.” you yearned to him, your body moving without the permissions of your mind, your arms held his waist, stroking his sides, which made him roll his eyes.

“already so fucking needy.”

you watched him got up from the bed, when his skin lost contact with yours you let a loud whine, his chuckle echoed in your ears following with the heavy sound of belt hitting the floor.

as you understood he was getting undressed to fuck you now, your filthy hands went in your panties, making yourself surprised at how wet you were. your panties were drenched with your wetness, you tried to think about if you missed the moment and already cummed.

sucking your bottom lip into your mouth, you lifted your legs to your chest and tried to thrust two fingers to your hole, but you failed due to your shaky hands. you cried out loudly, making his attention still on your body, seeing you desperately trying to fuck yourself with your own thin fingers.

“oh, angel.” he laughed, almost in a evil way. “i was going to eat out that pretty pussy of yours.” your eyes were getting watery at the humiliation of getting caught. he supported himself on top of you, giving your jaw a kiss. “i was going to lick—“ he pressed his tongue flat on your jaw to demonstrate how he was going to destroy your cunt, —was going to suck, mhmm— his lips parted on your neck before he sucked on your skin harshly, making you let out a pained moan.

“i was going to clean that pussy from all your stickiness before i fucked you.”

you nodded your head in denial, your hands held his face in between, trying to push him back down to your core.

“nah-ah.” he closed his eyes for a second, scolding you. “you decided to be a bad girl and thought your fingers would feel better than me. how fucking pathetic.”

you started crying at your defeat, accepting the fact that you weren’t gonna feel his plump pink lips on your lower lips tonight. it took you only few minutes when all these encounter was happening, he was fully

naked, his hard and heavy cock nudging on your inner thigh.

“instead,” he grabbed his cock in his hand, tugging on the skin as he gave himself slow strokes that was extremely pleasant to watch, —you are gonna get this.”

you opened your mouth immediately, waiting to stuff your mouth with him. your eagerness was making you look so silly and seeing a woman under him like this fueled his ego. he was built amazingly, his cock seemed like a perfect fit for your cunt and you were sure he was going to stretch you out real good.

“get up and kneel in front of the bed.” he ordered, making you whimper at his strict tone as you immediately got on your fours to crawl on the bed, you yelped when a harsh smack landed on your ass. goosebumps rose all over your skin, the burning sensation on your cheek only made you hornier as you got off the bed with shaky legs.

you slowly kneeled down in front of him, and sitting yourself between his thighs, taking a look at his cock from up close. in your surprise he patted your cheek before he leaned in and pulled you in a messy kiss, sucking your lower lip as he let go of you. the way he hummed into your mouth tingled your senses, just another proof of how he also enjoyed having you and kissing you.

he rested himself on his elbows and pointed his cock with his head, implying for you to get to work, “in your mouth. now.”

you leaned closer to him and rubbed your cheek to the inside of his thigh, like a cat that wants attention from it’s owner. that earned you another cheek pat, until his hand grabbed you from your neck to his cock. your nose bumped onto his hardened length, as your nails scratched his bare thighs, you licked the base of his cock, making your way up until the tip, your fucked up expression before getting railed plastered on your face as you stared at him. “fuuuuuuuck.”

his reaction got you, just with one lick to his thick cock, you also understood how much of a chokehold you had on him and it boosted your ego. you wanted to make him feel good, wanted him to praise you for being his good girl and taking his cum. you wanted all of him, you felt like you were possessed.

you smirked, your impatience getting to you to make him cum hard and fast as you took him whole in your mouth, stuffing your face. you tried to breath through your nose, tried to not choke yourself as you stayed there, you felt the tip of his cock grazing down your throat. letting him slip out of your mouth, you grabbed his dick in your hand, coating it with the mix of your saliva and his pre cum.

you put your mouth back on, swallowing him, trying to do it fast, he sometimes slipped out of your mouth and you kept whining every time it happened, which was fun to watch. you grabbed the base of his cock and forced him down your throat, your eyes watering at the sensation of slight burn.

“you can’t even suck a cock.” he dispraised you, which made you so sad. all you wanted was to take his cum like the good girl you were and you couldn’t even do that due to the pleasure taking control over your body.

“i’ll be good, i promise.” you kissed his v line, feeling him reacting to your touch as he shivered.

“get up.” he sighed, him also getting up in the process. “why these are still on?” he asked, almost in an offended way, pointing at your panties as you stood in front of him. you tried to mouth a ‘i don’t know’ but your voice croaked in your throat. his fingers tucked in the strings of them, helping you get out of the sticky material.

he got closer to you, lifting your chin up to stare at your face. he swore he saw stars in your eyes as you looked at him all hazy, he also knew what he needed to deal with after this was all over. he was glad you felt safe with him and trusted him.

“what a pretty face.” he almost mumbled to himself, leaning in to give open mouthed kisses to your jaw and cheekbone. you were pushed deeper into your sub drop with the compliment he gave you, smiling silly at the situation. he stroked the side of your cheek. “go on angel, lay on your stomach and wait for me, alright?” he said as his thumb brushed over your lips roughly before smashing his lips to yours to taste himself. “i’ll take good care of you, my angel.”

you made your way to the bed again, earning another slap on your ass. you stepped onto bed on all fours, crawled yourself until you reached the head rest, and then you laid down, hugging the pillow underneath, the warmth of the pillow against your cheek made you all sleepy, you let out low whimpers, rubbing your core on the bed unintentionally as you waited for him to get back.

you heard a foil packet ripping which made you rub your thighs in anticipation this time. he caught you rubbing yourself on the bed and smearing your wetness everywhere as your eyes were closed and your lips parted softly. when he referred you as his angel, he was right, no matter how fucking erotic the moments he had with you, you looked like an angel.

when he positioned himself on the bed, his both hands grabbed the back of your ankles, gliding his hands up slowly up to your bare ass. you yelped when you felt his teeth harshly biting down on your ass cheek. “so pretty.” he mumbled to himself before he parted your legs, watching your arousal dripping down to the sheets.

he kept biting down your back and under your shoulder blades, leaving his teeth marks all over your skin along with the print of his hand on your ass.

his hand fell hard down on your pussy and you bit your lips in pleasure. the way you reacted to every single thing he tried on you mesmerized him, he never thought you would be so fucking dirty in bed. and such a little sub, opposite of what you look from outside.

“bend your knees.” he commanded, making your ass stay up in the air while your face was still pressed on to the pillow as you hugged it. “you like the pillow, angel?” he smiled but you didn’t get to see that when you nodded to him. leaning down, going against his own words, he licked a bold stripe of your dripping cunt, coating his tongue with your wetness. you moaned so loudly, it sounded pornographic, being shocked at himself that he made a woman made such noises.

he hummed out loud, savoring your taste in his mouth, your sticky substance warm and almost sweet, perfectly fitting your personality. he pressed his fingers on your clit and put his open mouth under your hole, wanting to get more of you, he started rubbing your clit in a brutal pace, making your breath hitch on your throat, until a bolt of cum dribbled down onto his tongue.

he smiled as he turned it in his mouth one or two times before he spat it down back on your hole, watching it drip down your thighs.

the nonstop teasing and pleasure, the way it was just so raw and dirty clouded your mind, you weren’t even aware of the sounds you were letting out, you only knew they weren’t humanly anymore. you felt like an animal in the wild with the way he was making you feel.

“please…” you managed to let out a word.

he caressed the side of your hips, to make you relax. he was going to give you what you needed the most from the beginning of your night together.

he aligned his cock with your entrance, and your needy cunt literally sucked him in, he bottomed you out in first thrust with ease, both of you letting out the loudest moan of the night.

“fucking hell.” he watched himself disappearing in your cunt, his balls hitting your hips with every thrust. he grabbed your waist to hold you in place before he started fucking you in a fast pace, the sound of skin slapping and your screams mixing in the air. you fucked yourself back on his back with the last remains of strength you had, his dick pushing your g-spot every time he plunged back into your heat.

“even with condom, you feel like heaven.” he leaned down, wrapping his arms under your boobs and pulling your back to his chest. his hand covered your one tit, as his forearm was over the other as he held you up with a tight grip, now he felt like he was in your guts from the position which he was fucking up into you ruthlessly. he turned your face to him, kissing you, when his hips were slapping yours, you heard him mumbling some profanities into your mouth.

your head fell back to his shoulder, your hips unintentionally lowering up and down to follow his rhythm, and his teeth sinking down on your shoulders until you felt your stomach growing with the similar sensation.

he put his one hand on your lower stomach, feeling his bulge there, his cock twitched, alarming that he is so close. when your head was still on his shoulder, you tilted your head and licked under his ear before you whispered.

“you ruined me, so now, get rid of that condom and ruin me properly.”

he stilled inside of you for a second as he stared at your face, scanning your expression. you pulled his face to yours and kissed his lips, “please, daddy,”

he slipped himself out of you, was easy due to your slick walls before you turned around and laid on your back now, opening your legs, showing him you are patiently waiting for his cum. that’s when you heard the praise you longed for the whole night.

“such a good girl, opened her legs just for daddy to give her a creampie.”

“mhmm.” you hummed, nodding to his words before he slid into your wet cunt again, making you feel every detail of his beautiful cock inside your velvety walls.

“you are so big.” you cried out, his forceful thrusts going to the deepest parts of you as he forced your legs open. this way he was going deep inside and the pleasure mixed with pain sent you over the edge.

his lustful brown eyes stared at yours when couldn’t hold it back anymore and cummed, your legs shaking so bad that he had to hold them in place, your mouth opened with the dirtiest moans coming out, your walls cramping around his cock uncontrollably. you felt yourself trying to ooze out from your clogged hole and you felt stuffed even before his cum.

“creamed all over my cock like the good girl you are.” he moaned, burying his face to your neck as he started with short forceful thrusts in and out, your cries out of over sensitivity filling his ears before he plunged back in and stilled there, spurting his hot cum in the deepest part of your cunt and painting your walls.

you were both panting irregularly, your drop took over your body completely after you cummed hard and him keep giving you more thrusts so he would cum too pushed you over to the edge, you were a needy mess now.

as his face was still buried in your neck, your arms wrapped around his back, rubbing your nose against his skin as you begged for his attention and love. he knew how sub drop worked and thank god he experienced it before— both himself and both his partners so he knew how to take good care of you.

he snaked his arms under your waist gently, pulling your chest to his to pepper your neck with kisses. “my angel, you did so good.” he made you sit on his lap, didn’t take his dick out of you yet. “my good girl.” he kissed the top of your head, resting your chin on his shoulder as you silently sobbed out of sensations rising.

“ssshh, daddy will take good care of you now, my beautiful girl, you are simply amazing.” he cooed, running his hands up and down your spine.

he kissed away your tears, “you look so pretty when you cry, do you know how gorgeous you are?”

he complimented you for a while, making you turn into putty in his arms, until you relaxed, your breathing turned into its normal rhythm. your eyelids were slowly closing, but he didn’t want you to sleep when he was still inside of you. you wrapped your arms around his neck tighter, giving a kiss to his shoulder.

“thank you.” you managed to mumble. you were in a stranger’s arms after all, after he fucked you so good that he sent you into subspace and he was the one to bring you back with his compliments enveloping your presence like sugar coat. he made you feel safe, that was for sure. no matter what happens, this experience was going to be something you will never forget, even if you tried to.

“are you feeling better?” he pushed your sweaty strands of hair behind your face, feeling your temperature in the meantime.

you nodded, looking down, because you were getting shy of how he was treating you right now, complete opposite of what he was 10 minutes ago.

“will you be able to get up, princess?” he asked in a small voice, still trying to choose his words carefully just to not trigger you accidentally. the nickname gave you goosebumps before you rested your forehead to his and tried to move on his cock, he understood you weren’t.

“no, no.” he held you tight, stopping you from moving. “no more, angel, we will take a bath now.” he caressed your cheek before he slowly laid you down on the bed, distracting you with soft kisses before he slipped out of your hole. you still whined at the loss of contact, your hands trying to touch his body and he let you.

“here is your pillow, baby.” he handed you the pillow you liked so much. “hold this when i fill the bath for you, okay?” you smiled and nodded, hugging your pillow that smelled like him, wrapping your leg over it. “don’t sleep.” he giggled, his laugh sending waves down your body.

he quickly went to the bathroom and found some good smelling shower gel to bubble up the tub. he checked if the water was warm and left to check on you as it get filled.

your eyes were open as you stared at the ceiling, still holding your pillow, your neck decorated with his assaults on your skin. your smooth hair sprawled on the bed, your glossy eyes all big and innocent as you were laying down.

he ducked down near the bed, tracing your leg with his finger gently to get your attention. your eyes sparkled when you realized he wasn’t gone, even though he told you he wasn’t going anywhere. he smiled softly at you, giving you the treatment you want as he touched you. “pretty.” he mumbled, bopping your nose with his index finger, making your cheeks color in red.

“do you really think i am pretty?” your voice sounded weak as you stared at his eyes. this only made him chuckle because, how could you even doubt how pretty you were, to him you were dropped dead gorgeous. “you are the prettiest girl i’ve ever seen.” he kissed the corner of your lips before his hands tucked under your thighs and back, carrying you to the bathroom. your last acts of neediness came out when you tried to kiss his neck and he kindly told you off as much as he could before he carefully placed you in the bathtub.

your arms didn’t let go of his when he tried to get up. “please, stay with me here.” you asked, wanting him to be against your back and feel his warmth enveloping you.

when he realized your actions turned back into normal every second and your non coherent mumblings came to a stop, and you were just a girl who was pleased to be fucked hard by him, he decided to get in and sat back to you.

he pulled you to his chest, as you wished, and wrapped his arms around your waist, locking his fingers in front of you and placing his chin on your shoulder. you looked down at his hands, his first feature that got your attention in the club.

“is the water warm enough?” he asked almost in a shy way, which made you surprised because was this really the same guy who fucked you into a sub drop?

“it’s perfect, thank you.” you beamed at him, assuring him you are all good.

after the long bath you had, you still insisted of him to stay with you, being scared of how your body would react throughout the night. he accepted your offer even though it is not something he usually does, even taking long baths with one night stands wasn’t his thing, but the classic scorpio man that he is, after destroying you so good, he wanted to take care of you.

you fell asleep on a different pillow, since the other one was wet with your tears and cum as he laid down next to you watch you sleep peacefully. he wasn’t sure how this was going to fold on monday but he tried to push his thoughts away, not when the most beautiful girl he laid eyes on was beside him.

he pulled your sleeping body to his side and buried his nose in the crook of your neck, you smelled like you were sprayed with angel dust, he knew no one could make him the same way again after what you had together.

jake, drifted off to sleep, accepting the fact that you had no idea who he was.

next morning, you woke up alone in the hotel room. between of your legs ached in pain, and your head was dizzy like you were recovering from a hangover. the flashbacks of the night before sent tingles to your pussy. you had the best night of your life.

he was what you craved and you already wanted him between your legs again, it was a shame he was already gone. you huffed, checking the time on your phone before you turned around in bed and saw his pillow on your side, a note was left on top of it. your eyebrows furrowed as you took the note in your heads, seeing his messy handwriting, you immediately thought it matched his love making style.

“thank you for everything, angel.” -J

you let out a loud whine when he didn’t even bothered to give you his number nor his name, you fueled with anger as you got up from bed and ripped the paper, you felt like a burden, obviously tiring him enough last night so you thought he never wanted to see you again.

after leaving the hotel, you took a cab to go back to your apartment, it was a sunny sunday morning and all you wanted to do was lay all day and maybe take a warm bath again, and take pain killers too. you still felt so tired.

your stomach writhed when you realized you never going to see him again. he made you feel so good, he gave you everything you needed. you wanted him so badly that you tried to manifest him back into your life when you got home. he got your head spinning for sure, you felt like a crazy person with burning sage in your hand, mumbling words, “J will find his way to me.”

you wanted J more than anything, not because you fell in love with him but because you wanted to know the man that made you feel good and gave you the best night of your life. you wanted to return his favors to him, make him feel good again and moan his actual name when he makes love to you.

you wondered about who was he, how old was he, he seemed a little younger than you maybe 2 years? you couldn’t quite guess. his smell was intoxicating which made you crave of him more, you wanted to find a perfume store and smell every possible cologne out stock and buy a bottle, spray it on your pillows for it to feel like him. like his body.

“J…” you mumbled to yourself, going to bed with thoughts of him clouding your mind. the previous nights replayed in your dreams, the way his body felt against you, the way his eyes sparkled with excitement when you told him to fuck you raw and his pretty fingers rubbing along your folds. you woke up in the middle of the night, finding yourself doing something you don’t usually do, your fingers knuckles deep in your cunt, trying to feel something. you turned around, laying on your stomach to recreate the same scenario without him, hugging your pillow with one hand as the other fingered your needy cunt eagerly. your lips parted with his name, the only thing he left you, J…

when you were done and feeling dirtier than ever, you went to took a cold shower to ease your feelings. your body was aching to have him again and you didn’t know how you were going to manage continue living your life without him. you examined the teeth marks on your ass and back, carrying him with you made you feel good for a while until you accepted the hard fact that they will be gone in few days.

the next day, you got ready for work and left your flat. your walking was a little bit better today and your heels were back on your feet since they didn’t like employees wearing trainers a lot. you drove your car to work as usual, finding yourself biting your lip at the memories your mind flashed in front of your eyes. you turned on your radio to distract your thoughts and focused on the road until you arrived.

getting inside of the lobby of the company you worked for, you made your route to the elevators, waiting for it to open to get to your floor.

once the door was opened, you saw the classic faces, two girls who worked in your department which you always caught gossiping and saw your boss scolded an hundred times. the weird old accountant chief who tried to hit on you once after the annual dinner of the company and the new software dude who you never even saw his face before, whenever you saw him, he was always on his computer writing codes like he is hacking the national bank or something and his staple piece was always his oversized hoodie covering his hair and his earphones on top of it.

as all the people were standing behind you, waiting for the lift to get to your floor, you suddenly felt goosebumps on your skin, your sensations rising suddenly with the familiar scent filling your nostrils. ‘J!!!!!’ your brain screamed at you. the same woody musky warmth made you feel at ease, ‘please i just arrived at work’ you tried to fight back your thoughts. you were feeling him out of nowhere, you thought, maybe you were losing your mind.

when the elevator door opened with a ding! sound, you got out, going straight to your desk to sit and collect your thoughts. you were missing him so much, and this one sided connection you had to him was causing aches in your heart. he was probably with another girl yesterday night when you were pathetically fingering yourself at the thought of him.

you cringed at the thought so badly. you couldn’t believe a man was making you feel this way.

after working for a while, your boss called you up to his room, which was on the same floor as engineering department, only one floor up from yours. your heels were hurting your feet a little but since he called you urgent you climbed the stairs quickly to go to his office for the meeting. for the sake of your sanity, it didn’t last that long, walking in heels started being a struggle for between your legs as well, you wished you had your home slippers.

whining and swearing you went to the stairs, them looking even more steep now since you were looking down, it was always hard for you to go down stairs then going up. you stepped down and thinking you got it until you were only few steps back from your floor when you heard that similar scent again, panicked all of a sudden and twisted your ankle. the sound of your heel breaking echoed in your head as you realized you were about to hit ground in milliseconds, until, two strong arms caught you from your waist, his one hand under your head to protect you incase you would hit your head on the ground.

“angel, i didn’t know you were so clumsy.”

his eyes met your gaze, the soft material of his hoodie was not on his head anymore and his headphones were on his neck, a beautiful smile was plastered on his lips. the cologne was not your mind projecting things, J was in the elevator with you, J was the guy who prevented you falling down.

J was the guy who you didn’t even bother to look at once, the nerdy engineer who you never saw him talk with anyone before.

“J…” you squinted your eyes, staring up at him hazily.

“jake.” he corrected you. “my name, is jake.”

to be continued

#jake x reader #jake smut #enhypen hard hours #enhypen smut #enha smut #enhypen fanfics #enhypen fanfiction #jake fanfic #sim jake x reader #enhypen hard thoughts #enhypen scenarios

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drewharrisonwriter · 8 months

Text

Donor | Drabble | Dirty Dancing

Masterlist | Part 1 | Part 1.5 | Part 2 | Part 3

Pairings: Bestie Henry Cavill x OFC

A/N, Warnings: 18+, this is a drabble for my Henry Cavill fic Donor. English is not my first language. Darling bestie found Hank's dancer doppleganger.

Also, guys, I made a GIF. LMAO 🤣

One lazy Saturday evening, you were once again lounging on the couch, your legs stretched out comfortably and a tablet in your hand.

You had been absentmindedly scrolling through TikTok, a guilty pleasure of yours recently, when suddenly, a video caught your eye.

The Grand Theatre had uploaded a sneak peek of the upcoming production of Dirty Dancing. The camera panned to the cast, and there was Michael O'Reilly, leading the cast in a rehearsal of an iconic dance scene. You snorted, trying to stifle a laugh.

The catchy music and impressive choreography were enough to entertain you, but what had you trying to hold yourself back from laughing hysterically was the comments section. People were flooding the comments, pointing out the uncanny resemblance between Michael O’Reilly and a certain someone.

You finally burst into laughter, catching Henry's attention from the carpeted floor next to you on the couch. He looked up from his book, a quizzical expression on his face. "What's so funny?"

Still giggling, you turned the tablet toward him, showing him the video. "Look at this! It's the cast of the new Dirty Dancing rehearsing, and Michael O'Reilly is literally doing the lift!"

Henry's eyes widened as he watched the video. "First of all, that's impressive," he remarked, a hint of amusement in his voice. "But what's got you laughing so hard?"

You couldn't contain your mirth as you scrolled down to the comments section. "Read these comments!" you exclaimed, handing the tablet to Henry.

As he read the comments, his eyebrows shot up in surprise.

"Is it just me, or is Michael O’Reilly literally Henry Cavill?"

"Wait a minute, are we sure Henry Cavill isn't moonlighting as a dancer?"

"I see Henry Cavill wearing a disguise! No way that's not him!"

You couldn't contain your laughter as Henry read aloud some of the comments out loud. Henry watched the video again with a raised eyebrow, his lips twitching with amusement.

"Are they serious?" he chuckled, his eyes still fixed on the screen. "I mean, I get it. Michael and I might share a resemblance, but I promise you, I'm not secretly moonlighting as a dancer."

Kal let out a playful woof, seemingly agreeing with Henry's sentiment.

"But…" He said, pausing the video, and pointing at it. "I can definitely lift you like that." He winked at you, his voice carrying a playful undertone that sent a shiver down your spine.

You wiped away a tear from laughing so hard, your voice still laced with amusement. "Oh, really now? Are you suggesting we audition for a remake?"

Henry's eyes glinted with a suggestive gleam, his grin growing devilish. "Well, I can't speak for my dance skills in that level, but I'm quite confident in my lifting abilities."

Your laughter blended with a mixture of delight and flirtatiousness. "Is that so? Maybe we should practice then, just to be sure you've got it down."

Henry's laughter joined yours, the atmosphere between you growing charged with playful energy. "Practice makes perfect, after all."

"I still can't believe people are convinced it's you! Maybe you do have it in you to make it in the theatre world."

Henry shook his head, a playful smile on his lips. "Well, I guess it's always good to have options if this acting thing doesn't work out."

You laughed again, your sides practically hurting from the sheer hilarity of it all. It was moments like these that made your life with Henry so special – the ability to find joy and humor in the simplest of things.

Henry's laughter joined yours as he handed the tablet back to you. "Well, I must say, I've always had a hidden talent for dance."

You playfully rolled your eyes, finally coming down from the high of the situation. "Yeah, just keep it hidden, Hank." He responded with a playful swat to your arm.

"And don't let your newfound dance skills overshadow your other talents," you teased, a gleam of humor in your eye.

He got on his knees and leaned over the couch, his chin resting on your shoulder. "And what talents might those be, my love?"

His voice dipped into a slightly husky tone, his gaze smoldering with a suggestive spark, nuzzling his nose against your ear.

A playful grin curved your lips as you turned your head to meet his gaze. "Oh, you know... the kind of talents that require a bit more privacy and a lot less clothing."

His deep chuckle reverberated through the room, his lips brushing against your neck. "Well, in that case, perhaps we should put this tablet away and focus on exploring those talents." he murmured, gently taking the tablet from your hands and drawing you into a passionate kiss that left no room for further words.

Tag list:

@jyessaminereads @summersong69 @itsrubberbisquit @sweetandgentlecreature @kingliam2019 @leaveitbythewave @mrsevans90 @evansabove1981 @bascmve01 @shellyshellshell @iamsana @foxyjwls007 @one-sweet-gubler @henryownsme @angelcavill66

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s3mi-ch4rm3d · 2 months

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can we stay for a while and listen for heaven?

A/N: my first fic !!!! i wrote this between the hours of 1 and 4am so i hope its not shit asjkffjkd

please please please reblog, comment and like !!! if you have any feedback please feel free to drop it too (:

"You’d told him earlier that this building was his home. You were wrong – he fights the urge to say it now. To chant ‘The four walls have nothing to do with it. My home isn’t this house, it’s you. It’s here, in my arms’ until his throat runs dry. "

desc; veteren!reader x simon riley. he comes home on leave after a (kind of) disagreement. all fluff, some non-sexual nudity (a soft little affectionate shower scene). should be fairly gender neutral!!

"Hear the storm dances outside Something set free is running through the night And the dark awaits us all around the corner But here, in our place we have for the day Can we stay a while and listen for heaven?"

Simon “Ghost” Riley, more weapon than man, almost falls to his knees weeping at the sight of you.

You stand, some thirty-feet ahead of him, holding a pistol aimed at his head with perfect precision. Hair wild and sleep-tousled, one of his shirts hanging to about mid-thigh, eyelids drooped and eyebrows furrowed in confusion, lips forming a perfect ‘O’ and he swears to whatever divine being still watching that one day he’ll be brave enough to marry you.

He’d poetically liken himself to a man returning home from war, but the simile cuts a little too close.

You lower the weapon, flick the safety on (he narrowly bites back the urge to praise you) before launching it towards the sofa and launching yourself at him. He ignores the burning in his injured side and returns the fervour, arms finding your waist with practised ease. After almost fifty hours awake, Simon allows himself to feel the exhaustion that permeates his bones. He sinks into you – into your warmth, your scent, your love. He fears he’ll never be able to let go again.

You somehow detach yourself enough to blink up at him, eyes still half-lidded. “You’re back,” you whisper, voice so roughened with sleep that he can only make out half the syllables, “thought you were comin’ back next week?”

“Sorry, darlin’. Should’ve given you a heads up.” He hates how fatigued he sounds, even to his own ears, but he can’t keep up the act. Not with you.

“Nonsense, Simon Riley.” Your nose scrunches, voice mimicking severity. The way your mouth sounds the shape of his name ringing through his head like a stricken bell, “This is your home, too. You know you don’t need permission to come back.”

He doesn’t know, not really. Especially not at the moment. He’d half expected you to shove him back out the door duffle still in hand if he were honest. After almost two weeks of not speaking, of dodging calls and ignoring texts, he figured he’d deserved it. The knot of guilt begins to twist his stomach.

You must sense his hesitation – reading him like a book always was a favourite pastime of yours – because you press your face back into his chest, squeezing him briefly before releasing him. He barely has time to mourn the loss of your warmth before you’re hooking your pinky with his, intertwining your fingers.

You lift yourself onto your tiptoes, face hovering just a few centimetres away from his, before you whisper.

“You’re not getting into our bed smelling like shite, Si. ‘M hosing you down."

He watches as the corners of your lips turn up into one of your signature lopsided grins and before he can stop himself he’s leaning in to kiss it, mask be damned. Since there are no merciful gods left, you duck out of the way before his mouth can stick the landing, letting out a squawk of laughter as you swipe out of the way of his arms. He finds his lips mimicking yours beneath the fabric.

“You’re not kissing me til you brush those fuckin’ teeth, either. Dirty man.”

“I thought you liked the way I taste, love.”

You snort, pinky latching onto him again, leading him towards the bathroom of your darkened house. Reiterate your previous statement by muttering a “filthy man” under your breath. The radiance of dawn spills through the closed blinds as the sun begins its endeavour across the sky once more. Simon follows dutifully behind you.

Your unoccupied hand fumbles before finding the string of the light switch. You give it a firm tug and cool light blares into the room. Simon barely has time to hiss before you’re tugging it off again, encasing the room in darkness once more. You hum softly, murmuring apologies as you lead him to the toilet seat.

“Sit. I swear I have fake candles somewhere, I’ll find them.”

An objection rises in his throat, although he obeys instantly, perching on the lid of the toilet. He watches in the low light as you flit about the room, rummaging through bottles and loofahs and sponges before letting out a small “aha!”.

You methodically disperse small, white discs around the room, clicking them on as you go. Warm light flickers throughout the room, much less overbearing than the beacon overhead. You turn to face him again and he lets out a sigh through his nostrils. You’re far too endearing like this; completely dishevelled, all soft smiles and teasing words.

He can see it with a bit more clarity now, the way worry has been eating at you. In the dim 'candle' light, he notices the state of your lower lip, chapped and bitten, and the smudges of blue that frame your eyes. The knot that sits at the base of his stomach twists again, digging in, and he tightens his jaw to stop himself from spilling I’m sorry’s like a mantra.

“You planning on washing your clothes as well as your body, babes?”

Your voice pops the bubble of his self-pity. He blinks thrice, grateful for the mask to hide the downwards tilt of his lips. He attempts to sound breezy as he replies, though it comes out with more bite than he’d like. Typical.

“Figure it’s the quickest way to stop smelling of ‘shite.’”

It’s your turn to sober yourself as you cast your eyes over him, eyebrows furrowing. You must catch it; the way, however subtle, his body responds to his injury – hunched slightly to one side as if trying to curl protectively around it. He straightens his spine at your scrutiny.

“You’re hurt,” you whisper, voice so tender, as you take two slow steps towards him, “your side?” Your eyebrows furrow, hands absently reaching for him.

“It’s nowt, darls. Just some bruising. I…” He rolls the request around on his tongue. He swears it burns, to ask more of you after you’ve given so much. “I need a hand. Can’t really… bend. Sorry.”

Your reaction is immediate. You drop to your knees in front of him, hands reaching for his laces, face set in gentle determination.

“It’s no bother, handsome.” You’re quick to soothe, to reassure. Always so quick to give him what he needs. He softens like warm butter. “Get started up there, and we’ll meet in the middle.” You toss him a cheeky wink, face still tinged in a trace of worry.

Never one to deny you anything, he does as he’s told. Starts with his mask – easy enough. He’s too tired to have any reservations now, especially when you’ve spent so many nights devoted to tracing his scars with your lips. He unhooks the straps and slips it from his face, drops the piece of fabric onto the bathroom counter next to him.

His shirt is… a little bit trickier. He struggles to lift it up above his head, but he manages it soon enough. On his own, despite your assurances that you can help with that, too. He’s a stubborn creature.

Meanwhile, you’re dutifully and methodically working off his boots. He’s seen those hands broken and bruised, snaked around the grip of so many guns. He’s in awe of their softness; the duality of hands once soaked in blood, now working so gently to undress him.

True to your word, always, you meet him in the middle. Soft hands ghost over the mottling of bruises littering his left side, shades of purple and blue deep and rich. You frown, casting your eyes up to meet his. Your teeth go to bother your lower lip again but he leans forward to intercept, covering your mouth with his own.

You hum absently into the kiss, feel the graze of his hand against your jaw, the soft exhale through his nose. You both stay like that for a moment; making no move to deepen the kiss, keeping it light and sweet and oh-so tender.

You disconnect, your frown banished. He watches through his lashes, eyes half-lidded with relaxation as you stand back up, hands moving to the hem of his your shirt. Simon reaches to help, you swat his hand away.

“Ah-ah! Just sit back and enjoy the show, Riley. I don’t give ‘em out for free.” You wink, cocky grin rising to your lips. God, he has it bad for you.

“Show me how it’s done, love.”

You put him to shame. Lift your shirt off with one confident sweep of your arms. His hands twitch with the effort to keep them by his sides. The rest comes off just as easily, barring your fluffy socks. You almost end up flat on your arse, cheeks flushed as you slouch against the bathroom counter repeating ‘stop laughing, Simon Riley, or so help me God–’

A few moments later and you’re both in the shower, standing under a stream of water just below scalding. He hisses as the jets hit him, rolling down the planes of his back, slowly loosening the knots along his spine. You’re standing so close, nearly pressed against him, and this time he doesn’t stop himself from slipping an arm around your waist. Your bare forms merge and he feels like a ship returning to harbour. He feels tethered.

You’d told him earlier that this building was his home. You were wrong – he fights the urge to say it now. To chant ‘The four walls have nothing to do with it. My home isn’t this house, it’s you. It’s here, in my arms’ until his throat runs dry.

The way you tilt into his grasp, your arms winding so naturally around him, slotting against him so perfectly makes him think you already know the words by heart.

After a few minutes, you break away. Simon is just breathing out an objection by the time he notices the loofah in your hands. You squirt a splodge of soap onto it and a wave of your signature scent fills his nostrils. His objections die on his tongue.

You work the soap into a lather before gently taking one of his arms, eyes flicking up to meet him for a moment in a silent question. He answers with a nod and you get to work, systematically massaging away the layers of grime and dirt. You work in small circles down his arm, scrubbing his armpits and washing the grit from beneath his fingernails with precision, before moving onto his other arm.

And so the time passes; both arms, across the chiselled plains of his broad chest, down to his navel, spinning him around so you can work your way up his back. Then you’re onto his legs, his feet, before you move on to washing his hair.

He has to stand facing away from you (much to his despair – you look so focused, your tongue almost poking out in concentration), head tilted back to give you access to the top of his head. Still, you stand on your tiptoes, rubbing and massaging the shampoo into his scalp with firm but doting hands. You hum as you work.

He’s flooded with warmth at the depth of your devotion.

Hours or seconds pass by, simultaneously too much and too little time, and you’re done. You guide his form back around to face you, rising up to place a sickeningly sweet kiss to his lips. His body is sagging as the exhaustion finally drapes over him like a well-worn blanket. He blinks to keep his eyes open.

“Your turn?” He murmurs, voice a jumble of syllables.

“Mmh, I’m okay, babs. We need to get you into bed,” you hum. His eyes close for half a second and by the time he’s opened them again, the shower is off and he’s wrapped in a soft towel.

“Our bed?”

You huff out a breathy laugh, “Yeah, Si, our bed.”

Pinkies entwined, you lead him once more. Sunrise is fully upon you now, a kaleidoscope of peaches and tangerines spill through gaps in the curtains to bathe the bedroom in pinks and golds. You guide Simon Riley, now far more man than weapon, to his side of the bed. The man barely makes it to a horizontal position before reaching for you -- a request that you happily oblige.

You settle against him with the same practised ease, curled against his uninjured side, head tucked against his clavicle. He hums beneath you, arms slotting into their designated space around your waist.

A few moments pass. You’re certain that he’s already asleep when his voice, deep and full of timbre, cuts through the tranquillity.

“I’m sorry,” he rasps, his large hands dragging up the notches along your spine. “‘M stupid, and I’m sorry.”

“Don’t– you don’t have to, Si. I get it.” You exhale against his collarbone, arms tightening around him. “It was a bad time. I didn’t mean for it– it just came out. I get it.”

Simon murmurs in disagreement, but he returns the motion. Arms squeezing your sides like he needs an anchor, something to hold on to.

“I shouldn’t have ignored you. I was a coward. I–”

His head turns, lips grazing over the crown of your head. His eyebrows furrow and he freezes for a moment before whispering, voice so quiet you have to strain to hear it.

“I feel it, too. I can’t– I can’t say it, but I feel it. I do.”

You feel the corners of your lips twitch up involuntarily. This absolute muppet of a man – watching you all evening like you’d hung the stars one by one, like you were some divine creator, some source of eternal beauty that could make the angels quiver. You bite back the urge to laugh, and instead tilt your head upwards, graze your rough lips across the underside of his jaw.

You whisper back, trying to pour as much love and devotion as you can fit into three words.

“I know, Si.”

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