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upsidedownwithsteve · 11 months

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Bad For Business: Level Eight

Steve Harrington x fem!reader [2.6k] An enemies to lovers au. Arcade coworkers, who love to hate each other, get too competitive about Dig Dug and share a mutual annoyance for the kids that like to pester them. Choose your own adventure by picking an option at the end of the chapter.

The storm was unexpected and not forecasted, a monsoon rolling through a July afternoon that went almost unnoticed inside of the arcade. The windowless building didn’t show signs of the rain, nor the dark skies, but by the time the last of the kids left, the rush of a downpour and the rumble of thunder could be heard from the open door.

And once you’d cashed up and pulled your bag from your locker, you let your workmates out the door before you locked it behind you, hearing their goodbyes yelled over the din of the rain as they ran through puddles to their cars, their parents' minivans.

Your bike was chained to a railing ten feet away, away from the shelter of the door awning, placed perfectly in the middle of a puddle that was growing into a small lake. You squinted into the gloom, splatters of rain water sticking to your skin, already humid and sticky from the lingering heat.

Then a car pulled up in front of you, a maroon BMW with shiny alloys and a pretty boy behind the wheel, one you hadn’t seen all week after you’d kissed him stupid in the photo booth. The window rolled down and Steve appeared more clearly, shirt dotted with rain, hair messy from the wind. He was looking at you carefully, maybe warily, maybe nervously.

But then he nodded to the empty passenger seat. “Get in.”

You didn’t hesitate, not the way you would’ve done weeks ago, chin tilted high and haughty, ready to tell Steve Harrington you’d rather swim home than accept a ride from him. But Chrissy had come back from being off sick and Murray had switched up the schedule. You hadn’t seen Steve in a while, not since the kiss, not since he’d had his hand tucked under your knee and hitched your thigh to his hips.

Not since his tongue had been against yours.

Not since he’d whispered your name, a gasping, rough sound that you didn’t think Steve knew he made.

Not since you discovered that you made Steve Harrington hard.

Not since you realised you wanted to do it again and again and—

You got in the car.

The inside of the BMW smelled like Steve, like cedar wood cologne and mint gum, like expensive leather and the half full coffee in the cup holder. You were almost soaked through from the dash across the sidewalk, shirt wrinkled to your body, unnecessary sunscreen and rain water sticking to your skin.

The radio was low, a murmur, the sound of the rain on the roof louder than anything. Steve nodded at you when you finally looked at him and then he shifted gear, pulling away from the arcade and into the storm.

Steve drove you through town without much talking, his fingers twisting the controls on the radio, the sounds of Tears For Fears mixing with the rain on the windshield, the hum of the aircon. You didn’t have to tell Steve where to go, you didn’t have to tell him your address. He drove through the streets, kicking up water as he went, heading towards the familiar row of houses not too far from his own. And just before he turned into the lane, you swallowed hard, not wanting to leave just yet. There were things to say, you were sure of it. You just didn’t know what.

But Steve beat you to it, pulling over in a corner shaded by tall oak trees, at the edge of the sidewalk where the road met a park that was only used for teenage make-outs and underage drinking. It was quiet, empty, and you changed a look at the boy when he killed the engine and the music.

Steve looked different away from the neon lights and despite the storm, it still felt too quiet without the sounds of the arcade. It was too loud without the alarms, the jingles. Too bright despite the grey. It was overwhelming.

“Steve, about last week— what happened, I—”

The boy interrupted you before you could go on, a hand that paused as it made its way to reach over to you, hovering over your thigh, like he decided it wasn’t a good idea. Until he did, Steve’s fingers curling around the skin above your knee and your gaze found his, lips parted in surprise and you watched him think - just for a second - before the words were tumbling from his mouth with anymore hesitation.

“I’ve not stopped thinking about it,” Steve murmured, sounding a little dazed, quiet under the blanket of rain, the sky through the windshield a hazy lilac-grey and god, the world felt fuzzy, it felt soft. “Like, at all. Fuck, I don’t know, I just— I just.” Steve licked his lips, letting his gaze drop to yours. “Wanna do it again.”

The air seemed to disappear from the car. You didn’t say anything. You couldn’t.

“If you’ll let me,” Steve finished, nervous and quiet and unlike you’d seen him before, his eyes unsure as he made his way back to his own seat, his hand retreating from your leg.

You didn’t let him get far, your hand wrapping around his wrist to keep him close, leaning forward in your chair to meet him over the console, noses almost brushing. You shared the same shaky breath and outside, the rain fell harder.

“We don’t like each other,” you tried to remind him, but the words came out unsure, like you couldn’t remember yourself. “We’re not— we’re not friends. We don’t—”

Steve shrugged, a clumsy thing that you barely saw because he was so close. His hand that you kept on your thigh tightened, a needy grasp that you encouraged by smoothing your palm up his forearm, upupup until you were holding onto his shoulder and fisting his rain speckled shirt in your fingers.

“You’re right, we don’t,” Steve agreed and his voice was lower than before, more sure and back to sounding a little cocky now that you were holding him with the same kind of want that he held you with. “I totally hate you.”

You wondered if Steve believed his own words in that moment, because with the way he was staring at your mouth, you sure as fuck didn’t.

You didn’t seem to care though.

“Right,” you nodded anyway. “You’re so annoying.” Your nose bumped against his, lips hovering. Waiting. Wanting. Eyes barely open.

The rain got louder, fuzzier, a white noise roar that seemed to match your heartbeat.

“Yeah, you’re a real pain in my ass, princess. Can I kiss you?”

Steve was on you before you finished nodding, a pleased hum coming from the back of your throat as he closed the gap, his hand flying up to grasp the back of your neck, like he wanted to be in control, like he wanted to savour it.

It felt less like an argument this time, this kiss. Steve’s mouth swept over yours lazily, languidly, a melting popsicle on a summer day, cherry flavoured and coloured red like sin. It was chaste for a while, innocent enough for two people parked curbside just before a residential street. But the rain had kept everyone indoors, it had washed away the sidewalk chalk, the hopscotch lines and the love hearts.

Instead, it left inky shadows to hide in, navy and lavender light, heavy rain. Enough noise to disguise your moans with, a substitute for the arcade sounds but this felt better, this felt closer. Warmer. Hotter.

Then Steve’s tongue licked over your bottom lip as his thumb grazed the corner of it, an impatient tug that was supposed to be a question. You answered it by parting your lips for him, tongue meeting his, his groan mixing with your sigh. And too soon, he was pulling away, rosy cheeks and glassy eyed, watching you with the most curious expression - like he couldn’t work you out.

And then: “C’mere.”

Steve moved his chair back, cranking the lever until the seat rolled away from the steering wheel. There was enough room there for you to crawl into his lap, to straddle him and get closer than before. So you did exactly that, a little clumsy and a little eager as you scrambled over the console, Steve’s hand catching your elbow to help you, even with a smirk on his face.

“Thought you didn’t like me?” He reminded you through your willingness to throw your leg over his thighs, grinning when you scowled. Steve’s hands found your hips, warm and wide, gripping tight as you lowered yourself over him. “Or does that not matter now that you’re—”

“Steve? Shut up,” you muttered huffily, happy to have worn a skirt as you settled yourself against him, chest to chest, your hands diving into the hair at the nape of his neck.

You rocked your hips, getting comfy, squirming a little in Steve’s lap and you made a little noise as you did so, the denim and the half hard length of the boy catching against your cotton underwear nicely.

“Fuck,” Steve groaned, voice suddenly breathy, the teasing knocked out of him now that you were on top. “Right, yeah, totally shutting up.”

It was easier to press your lips back to his, the neediness mounting, a new kind of want that clawed at your insides and suddenly you didn’t hate the boy at all. In fact, you really liked the way his hands dropped for your hips to hold at your spread thighs, knuckles teasing the edge of your skirt, thumbs rubbing circles the inside of your legs.

You really liked the way he sighed all deep when your tongue licked over his, how his nose pressed harder against your cheek, like he couldn’t get close enough. You really liked the way he kissed you with a confidence that came from knowing how handsome he was, from knowing how a girl liked to be touched.

But you loved it when his mouth hung open when you shoved him back into the seat, a hand to his chest, your own heaving. “Slower,” you told him, whispering, following him back into the chair, where you kept him pressed against the leather. Your mouth was a ghost against his, your bottom lip catching the arc of his cupid's bow, his kiss pink and pouty for you. “Softer.”

Steve did as he was told, hands roaming the expanse of skin under your shirt, fingers trailing up and down your spine as he kissed you like he had all day, all night. A teasing push and pull of his mouth against your own, teeth catching your lip, tongue sliding over your own until you were squirming.

“Yeah?” He asked, lips glossy from you, eyes dreamy.

You nodded, clutching at him, fingers twisting in his hair. “Yeah.”

You didn’t realise you were rocking yourself over Steve until he swore, hands holding you and pushing you down against his hard cock, tight and trapped under his jeans. It was a heady experience, the drag of denim against your underwear, cotton soft and almost soaked through the more Steve kissed you. You felt drunk, the roar of the rain a staticy sound in your ears but Steve’s moans were louder, more important.

He sounded so pretty. He looked even prettier.

So you rested your forehead against his, lips open in a gasp, hips rocking a little faster, a dirty grind that made you feel filthy. Anyone could walk by. Anyone could see.

“M’gonna come like this,” you whispered, only a little embarrassed at your admission. You felt flushed, too warm, the summer air heavy in the car with the aircon off. “Shit, Steve.”

“Christ,” the boy groaned, voice sounding wrecked. “You can’t say shit like that, fucking hell.”

You only whined in response, catching him again for a kiss that turned messy, desperate as you both chased something you didn’t know you’d wanted. Your hands were on Steve’s jaw, titling his head back to kiss him a little deeper as he encouraged you to grind down on him.

He tore away from you when you moaned louder than ever, squirming against his cock through his jeans, letting out a hiccuping sound when the zipper caught against your clit. His lips were on your cheek, the line of your jaw, down your neck.

“Oh my god.”

“Shit, princess, are you gonna come?” He growled when you nodded, your cheek pressed to his. “God, that’s so fucking hot, you’re just— fuck.”

Steve hoisted you away from him, from where you’d pressed yourself against his chest. He coaxed you up, holding onto you with one hand on your thigh, just under your skirt, the other on your waist. He was still guiding you, hips canting up now to help you both gain more friction. You were desperate for another kiss, to feel the dirty flick of Steve’s tongue over yours but Steve tutted as you tried to move back, his hands keeping you where he wanted you.

“Nuhuh,” he murmured, “wanna watch.”

“Oh, shit,” you whined, clutching at the front of his shirt, pulling up the cotton until more skin was revealed, tanned and freckled, a dusting of hair leading down into his jeans. You curled your fingers there instead, holding onto his belt. “Steve, m’close.”

The boy nodded, frantic, suddenly intent on seeing you fall apart, just for him. “I know, I know, keep goin’ for me.” His thumbs dug into your hip bones, pushing and pulling you over his cock, his own breath hitching at the sight of you throwing your head back, eyes fluttering shut, your hold on him tightening. “Fucking hell, you’re so pretty. You look so good.”

It was an easy climb, when he spoke like that. It was a sudden fall when he whispered to you next:

“Can you come like this? Rubbing yourself on my cock? Christ, you’re gonna, aren’t you, princess?”

You came with your lips pressed back to Steve’s, clawing at his shoulders as you whined into his open mouth, his own groan falling onto your tongue, his hands pressing hard into your sides as he jerked underneath you, hips rolling. Steve flushed as he came, cheeks reddening, eyes turning glassy as he watched you and you watched him.

Neither of you moved, not yet, not as quickly as you thought you would’ve. Instead, you leaned into him, body slack and warm, skin slick with rain and exertion, your chest heaving against Steve’s. Maybe you imagined the kiss Steve pressed to your shoulder before you sat up, the fleeting warmth of his lips on your skin, the soft hum that came from him as he did.

There wasn’t any embarrassment as you stared at each other, your legs still splayed over his, the crotch of his jeans starting to darken in one spot, a mix of yours and his accomplishments. If you felt proud at the sight, you tried not to show it. So you both caught your breaths and Steve rubbed a thumb over your knee, wincing when you left him to crawl back to the passenger seat.

You didn’t kiss him goodbye before you left, and Steve didn’t offer any other sweetness when your fingers curled around the door handle, but you did leave him with one parting gift.

“I don’t really hate you,” you told him, suddenly shy despite the marks he’d left on your neck, the mess you’d left his hair. “Not really.”

Steve grinned, a proper, beaming thing before he caught himself and tried to smooth out his expression. He cleared his throat, nodding as he started the engine and gave you one last look. “Yeah. Not really.”

You hadn’t even noticed the rain had stopped.

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l0velylecter · 1 year

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Phillip graves head canons? :)

— headcanons on phillip graves ( sfw & nsfw ) pairing : phillip graves / gn! reader fandom : call of duty modern warfare ii rating : g for general and safe for work (sfw!) for the first half + e for explicit, minors don’t interact (mdni!), not safe for work (nsfw!) for the second half warnings : graphic descriptions of sex in the second half note : font is normal sized under the cut

safe for work ( sfw )

01 | He hates sleeping with the blankets around his neck, and in general, when the weather gets even slightly humid, he'd tear the sheets off his body. Phillip falls asleep very quickly, especially when you're around. Mid-sentence, you'd look down to your lap, and he'd have his eyes closed, breathing: soft and even. You find him passed out on the couch, on the chair by the patio. He prefers to have you with your head atop his chest, your hand absentmindedly stroking, soothing it in soft, gentle circles. The only downside is when he's away, he takes longer to sleep: thumb absentmindedly stroking the space above his heart.

02| Physical touch is his love language. Hand holding, fingers intertwined as you walk side by side. He'd occasionally lift your knuckles against his lips, palm flat across your cheeks to raise your head for a kiss — fingers, followed by his mouth, ghosting down your spine, your arm, your nape. He'd stretch across the bed to pinch ( never too roughly) the side of your thigh, already playful and eager to pick on you (lovingly) even when you've just swung your legs over the bed, barely awake with a bedhead he loves to ruffle. When you're next to each other, shoulder to shoulder, and you shift forward to leave, Phillip always asks where you're going. Under your touch, he melts — he blooms: stripped off his armor, he lays himself bare to you. Unashamed and indulgent.

03| He drives with the window slightly cracked open at the top. He likes the feel of the wind skimming his hair, his skin. In his blue cotton button-down, sleeves rolled up his arms. When under the heat of the southern afternoon, he always has sunglasses on — Dita Flight.006 with the frames thin and shades tinted. You know he hates driving alone, and even if he never tells you outwardly, he prefers to have you in the passenger seat. With the radio on and the two of you trying to snap your fingers to the beat, Phillip fails to get it right on purpose so he can see you laugh. With his accent, thick and unrestrained when he's back home, you call him a country hick. He doesn't deny it.

04| Out of his uniform, Phillip is impulsive and flies by the seat of his pants — a man who despises boredom and being alone. He never sugarcoats; sure, he loves using colorful phrases that leave you blinking at the incredulously of it, but if the man has offended you or hurt your feelings, there's a high chance that he won't notice unless you tell him. To Phillip, you're just having a conversation, and Phillip's usually more concerned with whether you caught his drift than yours. Yet, shortcomings aside, he bleeds and breathes confidence; commands authority with just the flick of his wrist. You know Phillip tries, and it shows. After every argument, when you finally find the strength to open the door, he'd be right outside: back against the wall with his legs outstretched, waiting, patient, even if he's constantly watching the clock. He makes you feel valued, protected, and appreciated: he keeps you on your toes, and you can never hate him.

not safe for work ( nsfw & mdni ! )

01| Even when you fuck, his arrogance is still there, simmering beneath the surface, occasionally leaking through the gaps to bleed into the way he kisses you. He loves having you bent over tables, against walls, and pressed against the driver’s seat. He loves to suck, to bite, to mark. He's not against being rough with you, but he never crosses the line. When Phillip is always eager to try new things and experiment — to push, to challenge, to drive you past your limits, to have you whining, crying out against his chest, a safeword is always ready. Spanking, ropes, cuffs, maybe even a daddy or authority kink if you squint. He's a dom, and he likes to tease. But he's open to being a switch; as I said, the man's adventurous.

02| But Graves isn't just about fucking. Most of the time, when he sees you for the first time in weeks, in months, he'd spread your legs almost gently, slowly, each movement careful as if to savor the moment. He's warm and desperate inside of you — going on and on about how he's missed you: lips brushing the shell of your ear. His arm, caging you underneath him, the muscles down his back, taught and tired from work. And when he comes, he’d be kissing you: deep, open-mouthed kisses, in a rare yet not unwelcomed show of slow-burn passion.

03| Big on dirty talk. This man cannot shut up, even in bed. Even with his face pressed against your weeping hole, he’s spewing out filth: sinful and wicked, you can feel the edge of his teeth skim your inner thigh. Leaving you to trap his head between your legs as they quiver.

" What's the matter, baby?" He'd chuckle, mocking how you can only pant and whine against the pillow as he pistons in and out of you, " Cat got your tongue?"

Cursing, groaning, whimpering: we all know this man can get vocal.

04| Phillip might lack common emotional sense, but he's not cruel, and most importantly, he's not stupid. Most of the time, aftercare involves a warm shower before passing out on the bed together, and when your legs wobbled: still sore and aching, he'd carry you under the shower head to support you with his body. You can feel his smile against your temple, somewhat apologetic, only to make up for how smug it made him feel. He'll dry your hair and give your ass a light smack before settling atop the bed, arms already finding their way around your waist.

a/n : thanks for requesting anon ! this was really fun for me to do as i am currently having a phillip graves brainrot 🥴i base a lot of his personality traits from his mbti : estp ! + the sunglasses featured here is actually the same sunglasses tony stark uses in civil war ( it’s ray band, and considering how patriotic graves is, he probably refuses to buy glasses from anywhere else. i mean i bet his car is even a black, ford pickup ) i hope you enjoy <3

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badomensbaby · 2 months

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so into you. lrh

pairing: luke hemmings x fem!reader

summary: luke hemmings, a voice actor you've been working closely with for quite some time, ends up confessing just how into you he really is.

warnings: 18+ only. minors DNI. flirting/flustering, protected smut, degradation, praise kink, slight sir kink, dom/sub undertones, swearing, oral sex (female receiving), mask kink, explicit sexual content.

words: 4,680

a/n: iiiiii cannot express where i came up with this idea. i don't mention explicitly in this fic what video game luke's working on but in my head, it's COD MW3. (i may have a small obsession with ghost. whatever.) but alas, i left this fic alone for like a week and finished it on a whim. enjoy. x

feedback and constructive criticism welcome. requests are open!

Ah, Luke Hemmings, the bane of your existence.

It’s not that you hate him or anything, unless feeling so sick to your stomach because he’s too damn pretty to be working as a voice actor counts as hate, then maybe. But it’s really quite the opposite.

You’ve been working at the video game development studio for almost two years. Your title has changed far too many times, as well as your responsibilities, but you get to see ideas come to life from the loose concept to the console screen so you can’t complain too much.

Right now, you’re in the middle of a contract for a multiplayer war game. It’s a sequel, or a prequel- whatever, it doesn’t really matter. The franchise has been around for ages but they’re always coming up with new content and it’s part of your job to make sure every voice and cgi actor are dressed and ready to perform accordingly.

Even though your manager can be a little overkill, like how he demands any voice actor be in full dress while they’re in the recording booth. It really doesn’t do much for their performance but your manager refuses to listen.

You’re in the middle of skimming through your to-do list for the day. There’s three people who still need to get some lines of dialogue done for the storyline of the video game so it’s your responsibility to make sure they don’t fuck around in the booth all afternoon. First up, and is already late, is none other than Luke.

It doesn’t surprise you. Despite looking like a total diva with his sharp jaw and soft, fluffy blonde curls that seem to be immune to any humidity, always laying so perfectly, he was probably the sweetest guy in the industry you’d ever met. Always polite and charming. Sometimes you think he might be flirting with you but it’s likely he’s just that nice.

A paper cup of branded coffee suddenly invades your vision, blocking your view of the list you’ve been working on all morning. It’s warm and smells like cinnamon, your favorite. Looking up, way way up because he’s impossibly tall, is Luke, with a half-crooked smile and bright blue eyes.

“Mornin’ Miss Y/N,” he says, despite the cheeriness on his face his voice is slightly raspy. You try not to think about it too much. It’s only eight am and you’re stuck listening to Luke in the booth until noon. “Blonde roast with cinnamon. You still drink that, right?”

Skeptically, you take the cup from him. Luke doesn’t seem fazed in the slightest by your hesitance. “Thank you?” It’s meant to be a statement but it slips out as more of a question. “Is this why you’re late, Hemmings?”

A glint of mischief flickers in his eyes. “Why, were you worried about me?”

Your stomach seems to flutter rather easily at his words. Shut up, brain! Luke’s a coworker, stop it. “We’ve only got four hours in the booth and almost fifty lines of dialogue,” You roll your eyes, trying to remain professional. “We need every minute we can get.”

“Fair enough, I’ll go get dressed. Have you got my gear ready?” Luke sips at his own drink and you can smell it from where you stand only a foot away. Chai tea latte with hazelnut. Man has taste.

“Yeah,” You clear your throat, trying to keep your eyes away from the frothy milk of his latte dribbling down the side of his lip. Christ. “Yeah everything’s ready to go. Just get your gear on and meet me in the booth.”

“Aye aye, captain,” The blonde mock-salutes you with a wink, before heading off to his dressing room down the hall. Thankful for the ability to properly breathe again, you quickly shake your head and go inside of the small recording studio and begin to organize the dialogue Luke’s meant to be working on this morning.

It’s almost as if you forget how to operate when Luke steps into the small room. It’s only the two of you today, as the sound technician won’t be in until later but you have a decent grasp on which recorded lines will sound best in the final production.

Luke’s already absurdly tall, well over six feet but with his full gear on he’s pushing halfway to seven feet. With thick combat boots on his feet, and full camo gear covering every inch of his lengthy body. A thick, heavy armor carrier plate is fixed against his chest, and his mask is held loosely in his hand. You force yourself to swallow the thick lump stuck in your throat.

“Can you turn the air on?” Luke asks, oblivious to how you’re struggling to breathe when he looks like that. “M’gonna fuckin’ roast in there if you don’t.”

“Yeah- yeah, sure,” You stumble both verbally and physically, barely managing to catch yourself as you twist behind you to turn the air a little cooler in the small room. It won’t help the flush that’s spreading across every inch of your body. You can’t face him yet, so you pretend like changing the temperature is a little more time consuming than it really is. “You can go ahead whenever.”

The sound booth’s door shuts with a soft click. Your heart’s beating a little hard but at least there’s thick glass separating yourself and Luke now, and once you’re sitting with headphones on you’ll barely be able to see him. God, what a terrible time to remember that stupid masked man fantasy of yours.

Luke does well, as usual, hitting the perfect low pitch for his character that your manager hired him for. He plays the character well, you have to admit, hearing his voice rasped and grovely is almost too much. You lower the volume on the headphones just to spare yourself the embarrassment of getting worked up.

It’s eleven-thirty when he finishes up. Every line of dialogue is near perfect and you’re sure they’ll make production without a hitch, so you have no qualms about turning off the recording light that illuminates the hall outside of the small studio.

You’re in the process of organizing the recorded files for the sound technician to look over when Luke steps out of the booth.

Instead of peeling the mask from his head, he left it on, his gloved hands clasped on the doorframe a few inches above his head. Christ, he looks like he stepped out of a fairly inappropriate fantasy dream you could conjure up after a glass or two of wine. “Even got time to spare.”

You can tell Luke’s smirking beneath the black and white mask, if the glimmer in his baby blue eyes is anything to go by. You just blink, too dumb to come up with anything to say, pulling the headphones to rest around your neck. “Uh- you- you did great.”

“Thanks, Miss Y/N,” his head cocks, helmet almost knocking into the side of the door frame but Luke doesn’t notice. “I love when you compliment me. I know you mean it.”

Your cheeks feel hot. It’s too warm in here, that’s all. Maybe the air isn’t working or something. “I do mean it,” you say softly. “You’re a great voice actor. I’d be lying if I said otherwise.”

Luke drops his hands from the door frame, instead leaning against it, his eyes still fixed on you. “You okay over there? You look a bit flushed.”

“M’fine sir- Luke,” You quickly clear your throat, hoping Luke hadn’t caught your stupid slip up. How fucking embarrassing, do you not have a filter? Suddenly a man all dressed up in gear and a mask has you calling him sir? Get a grip!

“Sir?” Luke echoes, his voice syrupy sweet and laced with curiosity. “That’s a new one. Usually all I get from you is Hemmings. I like that, you should call me sir more often.”

You want to look away but it’s impossible. Like a damn car crash, your eyes are fixated on the tall man. It’s fucking sinful how good he looks like that. “It was- it was nothing, don’t read into it.” You deflect.

“Yeah, okay,” Luke says sarcastically, followed up by a slow, dramatic sigh. “It’s a shame, though. Figured you’d finally admit you’re into me so I can stop pining after you in silence.”

Your eyes widen. “What?”

A low laugh erupts from Luke’s chest. “Don’t tell me you’re that oblivious, Y/N. I’ve been obsessed with you since day one. Why do you think we’re always working together?”

“My manager said I’m doing well-“

“That was after I gave him season passes to every game the Dodgers play, sweetheart. Told him I won’t work for him unless m’with you.”

Your brows knit in confusion. Has your growth within your position all been at Luke’s doing? You’ve been working with him nearly as long as you’ve been with the company. And suddenly it all makes sense.

Why your manager never seemed to care what you’ve been working so hard for, complimenting you regardless of any efforts shown to him. Why he doesn’t hang around the studio anymore to micromanage your every move.

You stand abruptly. “You asshole!” The words escape without a second thought. “You bribed my manager so you could work with me? That’s- that’s…”

“I thought you’d be flattered,” Luke says, almost somberly but you know he’s anything but. He’s a voice actor for crying out loud, he can make himself sound however he wants, regardless if it’s real. “What’s the big deal anyway? You have almost total freedom and you’re stuck with me all the time. It’s a win-win.”

Whatever attraction you have towards Luke is pushed to the back burner of your mind. Yeah, you have a stupid crush on him but how could he meddle with your job like that? The two of you aren’t even friends, he had no right.

“That wasn’t your decision to make. Who knows now if I’m doing well because of me or because of you? Terry could be spewing bullshit about my performance reviews to keep you happy!”

“You’re being dramatic,” Luke drones lazily. “Of course you’re doing well because of you. All I did was keep us working together, s’not like I fucking paid Terry off to give you a promotion.”

“I don’t know that!” You yell frustratedly, fists balling at your sides. “God- you- take that fucking mask off, would you?”

Luke remains still. “Now why would I do that?” he asks lowly, stepping toward you. Your shoulders draw inward, despite your attempt to keep confident. “Clearly it’s distracting you. Which I think is working in my favor.”

“It’s not.” You mutter weakly.

“Liars aren’t cute,” Luke tuts. “What, does my mask get you all hot and bothered, Miss Y/N? Huh? Because I’m bigger than you? Because I can do anything I want to you and you can’t stop me?”

“Luke-“

“Tell me I’m wrong, Y/N,” his voice impossibly lowers, until it’s a hushed rasp, his chest only a mere few inches from yours. Craning your neck to look up at him easily makes you weak in the knees. You know he’s right and you can’t find the words to tell him otherwise. “Tell me I’m wrong.”

Your lip quivers nervously. The words are right there, the lie you could easily spew but it won’t make it off of your tongue. His eyes are too dark to resist, swirls of pretty blue swallowed by his pupils. Blown out and expectant. “You..”

“You can’t, can you? Because you know I’m right,” Luke continues, clearly feeding off of the nerves you’re trying to swallow down. It’s written all over your face, you’re sure of it. Like a book printed in size twenty bold font. “I’m not stupid, Y/N. I see the way you look at me. I watch you quiver every time I put my gear on,”

Nothing escapes you except a helpless, trembling whimper. One of Luke’s gloved hands slowly raises to push a strand of loose hair behind your ear. Your eyes are nearly brimming with tears of frustration, of how badly you’re ready to give in to him, of how stupid you feel, wet and desperate between your thighs. It’s the mask, you try to tell yourself, but it’s useless because you know damn well it’s a lie.

It isn’t the mask, rather the person behind it. Luke’s probably the most attractive person you’ve met in a long time, it was inevitable you’d end up crushing on him, but when he’s in full dress you can’t deny there’s something inside of you that seems to light a flame inside of you that’s impossible to put out.

“What is it you like so much, hm?” Luke’s head cocks curiously, his cloudy eyes slowly raking over your body. You can tell he’s smirking beneath the mask at how tightly your hands are balled into fists at your sides, holding yourself back from doing something you shouldn’t. “You know what I think? I think you like giving up control. Obeying. Submitting. And when I’m dressed like this you really have no choice but to listen to me.”

“Luke..” your lips weakly spew the man’s name out. He seems to hum in content, he knows you’re close to giving in. He wants to push you over that line. Cross it with no shame. “I..”

Luke’s gloved hand grasps your jaw, firmly but delicately, so much so that it makes your head feel dizzy. “Speak up,” he demands lowly. “Tell me what you want.”

“I..” You can hardly meet his eyes. It’s pathetic of you, trembling like this and stuttering over yourself. Luke knows it too. “I want.. you.”

“Me?” He echoes, but it sounds a little demeaning the way it falls from his mouth. “You’re not giving me much to work with here, Y/N. Better spit it out.”

“I.. want..” Your eyes threaten to fall shut. You’ve never really been confident when it comes to sex but there’s something about the way Luke’s speaking to you that makes you feel a bit bold. Maybe it’s a leap but fuck, you won’t know unless you try.

With a trembling, hesitant hand, you grasp Luke’s unoccupied wrist, slowly drawing his hand downwards until it’s caressing your clothed core. “You. Please.”

Luke actually whimpers. It could easily be mistaken for a breathy sigh but you’ve been listening to this man’s every vocality for years, you know nearly every noise he can make. “Christ, Y/N,” It’s as if he wasn’t expecting your bold move. “I swear to God I’ll fuck you right here. I will, if you’ll let me.”

“Yeah- yes,” You frantically nod, too dizzy to provide any other words of confirmation. It’s all Luke needs, really, before he’s pressing his hand harder against your damp underwear, warm and inviting, he swears he can almost feel your arousal through his glove. “Luke, please.”

“Yeah, m’gonna take care of you, promise,” Luke releases your jaw, working to strip his gloves from his hands. You almost whimper from the loss of contact but you know what’s coming next is far better than a measly touch outside of your pants. “Gonna be a good girl for me, Y/N?”

You whimper out something along the lines of “yes” that Luke seems to be satisfied with because he’s planting a firm hand on your shoulder and spinning you around, using his grip to shove your body forward until your palms collide with the sound booth’s desk. Careful to avoid pressing any buttons you shouldn’t, you adjust yourself slightly, breaths heavy as Luke shuffles behind you.

You can feel how hard he is through the thick, camo pants he’s wearing, cock strained against the fabric and digging into your backside. Your toes curl inside of your shoes. He feels big. You feel Luke’s fingers tease at the waistband of your jeans. “Can I?”

“Yes- fuck,” You mutter through gritted teeth. There isn’t anything for you to properly hold on to while Luke’s fingers work to unbutton and unzip your jeans, before shimmying them down your hips and the swell of your ass, leaving them pooled just above your knees.

“Don’t have a lot of time, Y/N, Mark’s up next isn’t he?” Luke slowly teases his fingers along the dampened material of your underwear, resulting in the soft arch of your back as your hips move closer to him. “Such a shame. The things I’d do for a taste of that pretty pussy..”

“Luke, can you just-“ You’re filled to the brim with frustration, desperately wet and on the edge of bratty at the amount of time Luke’s wasting. He seems to understand easily, because a hand comes down on your left cheek, leaving a pretty little pink handprint on your skin.

“Don’t be a fuckin’ brat,” Luke says around a scoff, sliding your underwear down to join your jeans a little rougher than necessary. “Just for that, m’gonna fuckin’ do it. Don’t care if Mark comes in here to see my tongue deep inside your needy cunt.”

Luke’s words are sent straight to your core, stupidly wet and braindead from how badly you’re soaking the skin between your thighs. You hear the sound of Luke’s knees hitting the carpeted floor, the sound of his mask shuffling and the feeling of his warm breath on your flushed skin.

Luke’s thumbs sink into your flesh easily, spreading you fully for him, your body falling further forward and ass in the air. You know you’re glistening pathetically, all for a hot blonde voice actor in some stupid war gear. “Y/N, you’re fuckin’ drenched. Holy shit,” Luke mumbles in disbelief. “You’re so goddamn pretty.”

You aren’t sure if Luke’s going to continue speaking but it doesn’t matter, his tongue’s busy trailing a fat, long stripe along your heat. Christ, his tongue is so goddamn warm, humming happily against you as he works, alternating between suckling your clit between his teeth and nuzzling his nose against you. Like he just can’t get enough.

Blindly, your hand slips and without either of you being aware, the recording light outside of the small room has been illuminated.

“You taste so fucking good, Y/N. So goddamn good,” He hums again before diving back in, practically fucking his tongue inside of you every which way, like he’s claiming you and drawing his name with every lick. You let out a soft, helpless cry when his teeth graze your clit again. “Could eat your pretty pussy for hours, baby. Wanna spread you out on my bed like a fuckin’ feast.”

“Luke-“ Your voice wobbles, a desperate breath following. You’re so fucking lightheaded it’s insane, all you crave is Luke inside of you. “Luke, please. Please fuck me.”

“Yeah baby, gonna fuck you,” Luke presses a quick, messy kiss against your clit before he pulls back, running his tongue along his lips to gather any excess. You don’t hear him slip the mask back on but you definitely hear his belt unbuckle, along with the fly of his camo pants. “Look at you, what a fuckin’ dream. Bent over and fuckin’ soaked, begging for my cock.”

The sound of Luke tearing a condom packet open with his teeth catches your attention. You hardly have enough strength to look over your shoulder but he’s already rolling the latex over his dick that’s just out of your view. “Where did you get-“ You don’t get to finish your sentence because the words die out in your throat, replaced with a strangled gasp as you feel the head of Luke’s cock slowly trail up your wetness. “Oh, fuck.”

Luke makes a smug, pleased sound before slowly pressing inside of you. And yeah, fuck, he’s definitely bigger than anyone you’ve slept with. Which, honestly, hasn’t been very many people. “Yeah, that’s it,” You hear Luke sigh behind you, hands attaching to your hips as he continues to feed his dick further inside. “Fuck, you’re swallowing my cock up. So desperate for it, aren’t you?”

It’s almost too much. Your eyes pinch shut, teeth sinking into your lower lip to keep the tears at bay. He’s stretching you out so good every inch he sinks inside, until he’s buried to the hilt and stills his hips. “Luke.. fuck, you’re- you’re big.”

You hear Luke chuckle behind you. His fingertips press harder into your hips. “What’s the point of being so cocky if I don’t have anything to show for it?” he says, amused but a little breathless. He’s just as affected by your tight warmth as you are by his sizable dick. “Don’t tell me it’s too much for you, Y/N. You’re a big girl, I know you can take it.”

“Just.. give me a minute?”

“We don’t have enough time, baby,” Luke says soothingly, almost somberly. “I promise you’ll get used to it.”

You intake a sharp, quick breath as Luke withdraws his hips. It’s definitely too big. There’s no way you’ll be able to fuck anyone ever again without remembering how full Luke made you feel.

Then Luke snaps his hips forward and the tears you were desperately trying to hold back fall freely down your cheeks. A borderline scream falls from your mouth and you tighten around his dick, only drawing a groan deep from Luke’s throat as he begins thrusting in a steady, needy rhythm.

So quick and forceful that the sound of his hips snapping against your backside echoes the sound room. So desperate that your body falls forward, chest splayed against the desk and Luke’s carrier plate wedged into your back, his masked breaths deep and warm on your neck. You cry out from the new angle, hitting that perfect spot inside of you. “Oh fuck- Luke- god- right there, fuck-“

“Yeah?” Luke asks in a low moan, digging his blunt fingernails into your waist as his thrusts grow more determined and quick, your body rucking upwards from his forceful movements. All you can do is wail and whine against the desk helplessly. “God, Y/N, you feel so good wrapped around my cock. Lettin’ me fuck you, such a good girl.”

Your position is definitely uncomfortable but you’re too cockdrunk to even care. You know you’ll cum soon, especially when Luke’s fucking you at such a brutal pace there’s a tingling that’s spreading from your toes all the way to your spine. You clench around Luke’s cock, only soaking your thighs further as more arousal coats his covered length.

“Baby, fuck,” Luke’s voice is strained, one hand detaching from your hip to grab at your hair, fisting the strands between his fingers, craning your neck upwards until his masked mouth settles near your ear. “You’re fuckin’ soakin’ my cock, Y/N. Wonder what Mark would think if he found me buried in this sweet little pussy, huh? Think he’d be jealous? Of how desperate you are for me?”

“Oh my god-“ You know it’s coming, your legs feel like static and your head is spinning. Your vision’s beginning to blur as the beginning of your orgasm starts to crash over you. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum, Luke-“

“Call me sir,” He’s fucking relentless, pounding into you like he’s got something to prove. It’s messy and slippery and wet, echoing the small room. “Call me sir and you can cum, Y/N.”

“Oh sir, oh my god sir-“

“Come on baby, that’s it, cum all over my cock,” Luke coaxes you, breathing warmly against the skin of your neck. Your nails scratch desperately on the desk as you finally let go, letting out a long string of pleading moans as you finish, clenching tightly around him. “Oh christ- Y/N- yeah, that’s my good girl.”

“Oh my god..” Luke doesn’t stop even after you’ve finished, snapping his hips more forcefully than before.

“Fuck, gonna cum,” Luke pants out. “Wanna cum all over your pretty face. Can I? Please baby, want it so bad.”

“Ye-yeah,” You half mumble, half moan.

Your body’s in Luke’s hands as he quickly slips out of you, discarding the condom and wrapping a hand around himself, helping you slink back until you’re on your knees. Confused, you’re unable to question why you’re facing the wrong way until Luke’s hand is on your jaw and tilting your head backwards.

And that’s a fucking view. It’s upside down, Luke’s masked face staring down at you as his hand works furiously over his leaking, hard cock, groaning and panting. “Fuck, open your mouth.”

You comply, happily letting your tongue fall flat over your lower lip, eyelashes fluttering until you hear a low, guttural groan from Luke’s throat, painting your cheeks and lips and eyelashes in pretty ropes of milky white.

“Ohhh fuck,” Luke’s strokes slow, milking himself until every last drop is coating some part of your face. “Fuck Y/N… you look so goddamn pretty covered in my cum.”

What doesn’t stay on your face ends up dribbling onto your t-shirt. You don’t really care at the moment, fucked dumb as you curiously swipe your tongue along anywhere you can reach to taste Luke’s release. You let out a soft, pleased and rasped, “Thank you, sir.”

Luke finds some tissues to clean you up, helping you slide your underwear and jeans back on. Once you’ve regained your breath, and began the short trip back to reality, you feel your cheeks grow stupidly hot. Luke slips his mask off.

“Where the hell is Mark?” he asks curiously.

“That’s what you’re worried about?” You ask in a soft voice. You really want to ask what this means, the two of you hooking up like this. Was he actually into you or using that as an excuse to get in your pants?

“He’s like thirty minutes late,” Luke shrugs, running a hand through his flattened curls. “Why? What’re you worried about?”

Your mouth clasps shut. “Nothing, it doesn’t matter,” You turn away, busying yourself with the paperwork you’d brought inside with you. “I have more recording sessions to do. And you probably have somewhere to be.”

“Y/N..” Luke frowns.

“What?” You snap unintentionally, turning to face Luke with narrowed eyes. “What, Luke?”

“This wasn’t like..” he trails off, looking a bit nervous. It almost makes you feel bad for snapping at him like that. “A one-time thing for me, Y/N. I.. I’m into you.”

“Really?” You ask softly. “You’re not just saying that because I let you.. fuck me?”

“No,” Luke slips out a short chuckle, stepping towards you. “No, I told you m’obsessed with you. This only makes it worse. You’re not getting rid of me.”

“We can talk about this after my recording sessions, alright Hemmings?” Your lips lift into a soft, almost shy smile. Luke does the same, his eyes hopeful.

“Maybe over dinner?” He asks.

“Pick me up at six.” You counter.

Luke dips to press a soft kiss against your cheek. “Text me your address. I’ll go figure out where Mark is and kick his ass for being late.”

You roll your eyes. “If he would’ve been on time that wouldn’t have ended well for both of us, Hemmings,” Luke’s halfway out the door, pausing and turning to you with a sly grin. “What? What is it?”

“Someone left the recording light on. No wonder Mark didn’t bother,” Luke chuckles, amused. “Hey.. I wonder what else we did by accident..” His eyes flicker towards the sound table’s knobs and buttons, your own widening in fear. Which switches were off before? You hadn’t paid attention to anything when your chest was pressed against it. Fuck, what if you-

You turn to reprimand Luke for putting that thought into your head but he’s gone. Before you text Mark, letting him know that you’re available to record, you double check the recording logs for anything out of the ordinary. With pink cheeks, you text Luke your address and a vague note.

you: [123 Main St]

you: also.. seems we might’ve had an accident.

you: file.mp3

#5sos fanfic #5sos imagine #5sos smut #5sos x reader #luke hemmings fanfic #luke hemmings imagine #luke hemmings smut #luke hemmings x reader #luke hemmings x y/n #luke hemmings x you

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smoothielenny · 1 year

Text

Body•Part 2

Ao’nung x Omatikaya!Fem!Reader

Summary: Ao’nung likes to tease you and your siblings and you had enough. Ao’nung teasing you? Why not tease him back with your ‘freaky’ body

Warning: Smut, masturbation, hand job, sub Ao’nung. Characters are aged up.

[Previous•Next]

[Masterlist]

Afternoon, you hate it. Humidity is all in the air and your throat is dryer that ever. Drinking water wasn’t enough, you aren’t use to the scorching heat. You found a dead and dry big leaf laying on the floor. You picked it up and started fanning yourself, it worked. You stay underneath a tree for some cooling shelter, surprisingly the cool air started tickling your skin soothing your heated skin.

“Great, what a freak like you doing here?” Your upper lip twitches from the word ‘freak’. You remembered the conversation from the other day about Ao’nung calling Kiri a freak and now it’s your turn to be called a freak.

“What’s your problem? I’m just relaxing here.” You glared at him. He tilt his head giving you a smug grin. Oh how you want to punch that face.

“It’s a no freak-zone, freak.” You stand up and tried to punch Ao’nung, but something stopped you. Of course one of them is being scolded by your father. This urge of something you want to mess with him, you mentally smirked.

You look at Ao’nung with an innocent smile. Slowly and seductively walking at him. He squint his eyes not knowing what you’re about to do. You look up at him with your big doe eyes. He gulped seeing you so close to him. His heart is beating fast being so close to you. You softly put your hands on his chest and smile at him.

“It could be our own little spot.” You sweetened your voice. You could feel his heartbeat, again internally smirking. Ao’nung felt like a statue, not knowing what to do, but to stand there. It’s a first time someone this bold act at him. He knows how every girls have a crush on him, usually receive gift from them, but no one ever made a move like this to him and he doesn’t know how to act.

“Ao’nung~” you whispered in his ear. Your arms are now knotted on his neck. Suddenly, you felt a hard bump on your thigh. You look down at his bulge firmly touching your thighs. Ao’nung then noticed it too and he quickly pushed you off him.

“Y-you! What are you doing to me!?” He exclaimed, covering his face currently blushing. You get close to him holding his arms and placing it on your waist.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You giggled. You were about to peck his cheeks, but he pushed you again, running away from you. You smirk satisfied at what you just did. Well you can’t wait for the next encounter.

Night has come and Ao’nung couldn’t stop thinking about what happened earlier. The way you moved, your body being close to his, how soft your thighs, your chest, your ass—his dick became hard thinking about it. He untie his loincloth, letting his hard dick stand up on its own. He stroke his shaft thinking about your body, imagining it in different position, sucking his dick or on top of him, and remembering you moaning his name. It’s making him crazy. He bit his lower lip, speeding his stroking, sweat forming, drooling from his imaginations. He really wanna fuck you so bad. He feels shameful that he feel this way towards a freak, but he couldn’t help but to start craving for your body. He wants to touch every part of you, feel it, squeeze it, grab it, kiss it, bite it.

“Ao’nung~” he finally released. Cum dripping from his dick. His body is now covered with sweat, he gasp for air, he couldn’t believe what he just did.

Few days after that, Ao’nung started to ignore you, avoid you, anything to not be near you. Though you liked it being left alone by him, you felt bored, wanting to get at him already.

The next day, you were to learned sign language. You were partnered with Ao’nung again. You couldn’t wait a new way to tease him. You both decided to go where you last met. Ao’nung suddenly felt awkward, usually he’ll start to tease and bully you or complain why he has to be with you, but you heard none of that today. He listened to you when you ask if what you’re doing is right. He is terribly quiet today.

“Ao’nung…” his ear twitched hearing you say his voice. His cheeks got warm, he look at you with a confused look. You crawl to him, as you do he look at your body, seeing you curves, cleavage, and thigh gap, it made him hard again. You sat close to him leaning your head on his chest. He look at you noticing your luscious lips, he wanted to kiss it so bad, but he has keep himself together.

“You alright?” You look at him with innocent eyes. He just glance at you and look away. He whispered a ‘no’ you just smiled. You made him look your direction and suddenly you kissed him. His eyes widen from it. You chuckled at his shocked face. He snapped, he pinned you on the ground and started kissing you. You tried to keep up with him, but he already let go.

He breathes heavily, “(y/n)…” He wants to kiss you again, but you put a finger on his lips to stop him.

“Uh uh, you can’t just do what you want.” You smirked. His ear lowered hearing that. He really want to do nasty things to you. You told him to seat down and take off his loincloth and he did without any hesitation. You were intrigued by what you see, him kneeling down with his dick out, it turned you on. His tail is wagging like crazy patiently waiting for you.

“Aww, what a pretty sight.” You kiss his neck causing him to whimper. Seeing him so vulnerable, it makes you wet. You let him kiss your neck, feeling his warm lips all over. You starts stroking his dick which cause him to moan. You like hearing him moan on your ear.

“Mmn, (y/n)…” he gasped from the sensation. He nibbled your collar bone as he moans.

“Shhh, you doing good.” You pet his head. You made your stroking faster beads of cum starting to spurt out of his tip. His moaning became louder begging for you to make it faster. In between he also moans your name here and there. It’s was like a music in your ears, you love it so much, so addicted to it.

“Cum…(y/n), I wanna cum..” he whispered. You just giggled, with your last stroke he then release his load covering half of your hand. You kissed him this time with tongue. You finally have Ao’nung wrapped around your finger.

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cerridwen007 · 3 months

Text

Icy Hot.

Images above from pinterest are for aesthetic purposes only*

Pairing: Javier Peña x f!reader (afab)

Word count: 1.4k MINORS DNI!(18+)

Summary: Javi finds a new, interesting way for you to cool down during a hot Colombian day.

Notes/warnings: SMUT, temperature play, toys, inappropriate use of ice cubes, Javi being a cheeky menace, body worship, male masturbation, javi picks reader up but he is a strong boy and can pick up any one, probably bad spanish, swearing, no y/n.

A/N: Wrote this months ago but couldn't be bothered editing it again till now so here it is finally. I live in the southern hemisphere so now and especially at the time of writing this, it was stinking hot, which of course prompted the idea. Any interactions with my posts are appreciated, hope yall enjoy. love ya!

*********

It was a scorching hot Sunday afternoon in Bogotá; Columbia, a rare day off for both you and Javi that was usually spent out and about hanging with friends, cleaning the apartment and spending some quality time with each other. But unlike those others treasured Sundays, absolutely nothing was being achieved by either of you today. The both of you were sprawling out in your underwear on the couch. A situation that usually would've prompted some very heated activities, but both of your brains seemed to have been fried and groggy from the sweltering temp in the apartment.

The windows were shut to keep out as much of the heat as possible and the nasty flies that came with the summer heat. The dusty old fan beside the coffee table did next to nothing in cooling you down, instead pushing the hot warm back onto you. You looked over at Javi, leaning back into the couch, legs and arms spread out as he leans on the back of the couch. God, he looked so delicious even in these circumstances.

A drop of sweat beaded at his temple and fell down his jaw and neck. Licking your lips, you could almost taste the salty taste lingering on your tongue. You sighed, knowing getting handsy right now, as tempting as it was with such a handsome boyfriend who looked extremely hot right now would only make you even more overheated. You lifted one of your hands to help fan yourself, a feeble attempt to take your mind off the heat, uncomfortably sticking like a second skin to all of your body.

Javi, on the other hand, was thinking about how he could cool you down. He hated seeing you so tired and exhausted from the heat, a nice Sunday spoiled by the overbearing heat of Columbia. Suddenly, it hits him, a wide smirk spreading on his face before he can stop it. Luckily, you're too buzzed out to notice. He quickly sneaks off to your bedroom to retrieve something.

You, a curious creature usually would have immediately wondered what he was up to but right now you couldn't care less with the humidity causing your skin to glisten with salty stick drops of sweat, and your brain reduced to mush, you were unable to give much of a second thought to his actions.

You close your eyes as the heat brings you to a light sleep but manage to pick on some muffled noises of Javi mucking around in the kitchen. After a few minutes, but what seems like hours in your disoriented state, Javi tip toes behind the couch where you are resting and reaches out to trace an ice cube along your collarbone.

Your body jolts, unexpecting of the drastically different temperature melting down below your neck. Your eyes flick open, eyebrows automatically raising to question what the hell on earth Javier was doing.

"Relax Hermosa, just thought I'd try something different to try and cool us down."

He reaches his palm down, cupping your face, doing his very best puppy eyes to try to convince you to let him try out his idea. Biting your lip, you tried to hide your grin. Javi smiles deviously, knowing you better than yourself, that you are already sold on the idea. He walks around to the front of the couch, popping one of the ice cubes in his mouth and grins.

He straddles your lap, you almost whine feeling his already hard cock, pressed up against your aching core. He presses his lips to the side of your neck, instantly creating goosebumps throughout your body. Your body arches into his as his icy cold lips trace down the curves of your sticky body. He reaches behind you and carefully undoes your bra behind your back, throwing it to the ground, revealing your swollen nipples.

A deep groan arises from the back of his throat as he watches a droplet of water melt between the valley of your breasts, his pupils double in size, transfixed by the sight before him. The ice cube now fully melted leaves his tongue still cold as he attaches his lips to the painfully hard peaks on your chests, making you moan loudly. His eyes go between closing in bliss to looking up at your beautiful features. His hips subconsciously grind into yours, further prolonging the aching of your clit.

Your fingers dig into Javier's fluffy hair as the heat begins to overcome your body again. You whine feeling a need for more and because of the discomforting heat.

Seeing how your body was both warmed up and cooled down he withdrew his lips from your nipples and placed a few kisses down your stomach before getting up off the couch to go and retrieve something else from the kitchen.

"Close your eyes, mi diosa." He softly tells you.

You swallow harshly and close your eyes, gut swirling with anticipation of what Javi had in store next. Before your brain can wander, you feel a very cold large object touch ever so slightly to your clit through your panties, the action making every single inch of your skin immediately flare up in goosebumps again, eliciting a soft whine to fall from your lips. Which earns a chuckle from Javier. Your eyes open slowly to find a smirking Javier sitting on the other end of the couch with one of your old toys.

"Javi...?" You ask breathlessly.

"I know, I know I've said I like to be the only thing to satisfy your needs, but I obviously couldn't put my dick in the freezer." He jokes.

You smile wide, but before you can respond he quickly wips your underwear off as he places the tip back onto your clit and slowly drags it downwards through your drenched folds.

"Ffffuck..." you moan.

"I'll get there, don't worry, sweetheart." He winks.

You exhale a breathy laugh that turns into a moan as Javi continues dragging the tip back and forth through your lips, catching on your clit with every motion. You weren't sure what had come over, Javi. He usually wasn't so playful in the bedroom, but you didn't mind it one bit.

Keep his eyes transfixed on your body, studying every inch like a painting. He palms himself through his black boxers. He nudges the tip of the dildo at your entrance, holding it there. You squirm trying to push it inside you, desperate to be filled by something.

"Please.....Javi..." you whine weakly.

"Dime que lo quieres, dime cuánto lo necesitas." Javier whispers, as he slowly pulls himself out of his draws and strokes his length. His eyes roll back as his head falls between his shoulders from the feeling after depriving himself for so long. But he soon forces himself to look at the pure desperation on your face.

"Please.....fuck please Javi...need it so bad...please just give me something... anything." You plead , begging as you try and grind upwards, seeking some stimulation.

Javier swallows deeply, feeling his cock ache from your words.

"Fuck mi vida, look so fucken pretty when you beg for be me."

You gasp as he quickly slips half of the dildo deep into your heat. The cool silicone easing the fiery walls. Javi spits on his tip and begins furiously stroking himself, trying his best to match the same pace as he fucks you with the pink toy. Within minutes, both of you are reduced to a whimpering mess.

"Mmm this pussy is all mine, ain't she?"

Before you can respond, he reaches out to stick his thumb in your mouth. You quickly take it, sucking harshly, leaving it covered in spit. He groans, watching you, pinching the base of his dick to keep from coming just yet.

He resumes his original plan and brings his wet thumb to your throbbing clit. Circling it gently just how you like it.

“Need you come for me sweetheart... come for me." He moans.

Your hands fly out and grip Javier's veiny forearm to anchor yourself to him as your high overcomes you.

"Oh...ffffuck...Javi..."

He fucks you harshly with deep fast strokes through your high, mimicking his own strokes as he begins to reach his climax.

He comes onto your thighs and mound before collapsing his upper half on your stomach.

You smile at him, eyes peeking open at his messy, post sex hair. You reach out and swipe it out of his face, scratching his scalp.

"Mmmh, feeling cooler yet, amor?" he asks.

"I mean, I did, but now I think it's time for a cold shower so we can really cool down."

You wink.

He grins widely, chuckling as he picks you up, throws you over his shoulder and carries you to the shoulder. It was going to be a long hot night, in more ways than one, but at least Javi reckons he saw some ice blocks in the freezer earlier…

*************

Translations: ‘mi diosa’ - my goddess

‘Mi vida’ - my life.

‘Dime que lo quieres, dime cuánto lo necesitas’ - ‘Tell me how much you want it, tell me how much you need it.’

************

#javier pena fanfiction #javier pena smut #javier pena fic #javier peña #javier pena narcos #javier pena x reader #smut #pedro pascal characters #narcos fanfiction

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iamasaddie · 7 months

Note

Hey babe :)

So for your celebration, i would looooove to read some somnophilia. I'm sure you'd write something fucking hot.

Have a beautiful afternoon 😘

Hello, my darling!! Thank you so much for this! Somno is something I've never written before, so it was definitely a challenge for me! I hope you like the finished product, ILY !

sweet dreams are made of this

paring: Joel Miller x f!Reader rating: explicit (18+ minors DNI) word count: 1,2k~ warnings: ER; somnophilia; explicit sexual content; male masturbation; thigh fucking; dirty talk; no use of y/n. let me know if I missed anything a/n: a very special and intimate thank you to @johnwatsn for being an incredible person and beta-ing this work <3 dedicated to @milla-frenchy MY MAIN MASTERLIST 1k celebration masterlist

He didn’t know what was so alluring about seeing you sleep. Naturally, he understood that a normal person would either ignore their sleeping partner, or find it adorable and move on. They wouldn’t feel the scorching blast of arousal shooting through their system, making their skin impossibly tight, prickling with needles of need.

Joel tried to find a reasonable explanation for his dick getting hard whenever he saw your lips parted, small puffs of breath leaving your mouth as sleep claimed your body with its tight grip. Was it the excitement of finally seeing you so relaxed and unbothered after the distraught you've been living through for so long? The mellow curves of your body that looked even softer now that you weren't tensed with consciousness? Whatever it was, it slowly drove him insane. Insatiable.

He gave in one night, climbing out of your shared bed and sitting himself on a chair beside it so as to not wake you up. Not only was he embarrassed with the lengths his need led him to, but it would also ruin the whole reason because of which he was doing it. Dropping his boxers to his knees, he choked his cock with terrifying vigor, trying to find that needed release while also not taking his eyes off your sleeping form. Your hair splayed on the pillow - what a luxury in the world that had ended more than two decades ago - like a halo, naked body barely covered by a sheet, in attempts to get some comfort during the nights filled with heat and humidity. Joel jerked his cock a handful of times before spilling his seed all over his pouchy stomach, biting his lip to suffocate the guttural sounds that accompanied his orgasm. He did that once, then again a week later, and again the next day until it became a nightly occurrence and he even forgot to think about the depravity of it all.

Tonight, as he sat in his usual spot, long-forgotten shame even less visible in the darkness of the room, something was different. For the first time, your sleeping body wasn't facing him; you had turned away the moment you crawled into the bed. Joel hated when you fought, but the safety and the constant close proximity sometimes triggered something in him, it also triggered something in you. A small slip in wording would end up in your fists flying and his chest getting the hits. You'd both scream words you didn't mean and it'd tear his heart into pieces. Sometimes you and him both would wonder if you should've gone your separate ways once you’d settled in Jackson, but the moment he'd brush your hair out of your face in a quiet apology, you always accepted. Or when you'd come to him from behind, kissing his shoulder blade through his flannel, you both knew that apart you'd suffer more than together. You hadn't had a fight for a while, so tonight it was a big one, you even smashed his only cup centimeters away from his head before storming into your bedroom. He quietly followed you after finishing off what was left of the bottle of whiskey and laid on the farthest end of your shared bed in a crappy mood. But when he woke up in the middle of the night to open a window and let in some air, his cock informed him about his usual needs.

That's why now he was rubbing his cock raw with his fist, but the long-awaited release was both on the precipice, and also as far away as the happy past.

"Fuck," he quietly muttered. At this point it was painful. The saliva he used already dried off and he was nowhere close to coming. But there was no way he'd be able to fall asleep like that.

Still, Joel climbed back to bed naked, leaving his boxers on the floor. As he lay down, his stiff, burning cock hit his soft stomach, smearing the precum on the skin. Against his better judgment, he creeped closer to you, spooning your pliant body from behind and inhaling your gentle smell. Sometimes it was the only thing that could bring him comfort, just the way you smelled, so warm and homey. So safe. You let out a barely audible sleepy groan and he was ready to apologize, but then you pushed your ass back, unconsciously grinding your plush behind on his naked and needy cock.

"Oh, baby, fucking hell," his moan could wake you up. It should've woken you up, but it didn't. Joel's hands became braver, moving from your shoulder and underneath your t-shirt – his t-shirt – to cup your sex. "You're drenched already, my love." He chuckled lovingly, pressing his lips into your neck and eliciting soft breathy sounds from you. "You better be dreaming of my cock."

His thick fingers circled the wet patch on your panties, dragging your slick up and down your lips. Moved by only his need of you and release, he pressed your body closer still, moving a little and slipping his cock between the plush of your closed thighs. The tightness of their embrace could not compare to the choking grip of his hand, but it was so, so much more preferable. Losing himself in your body was close to a religious experience, he still marveled at how he got this fucking lucky. Maybe he deserved it, maybe he did something right.

Your skin slicked by his precum gave the perfect pressure and friction for him to start losing his mind. The sweat covered his temples as he tried not to make unnecessary movements and wake you up. His chest was almost flush with your back, a steady pumping of his hips the only motion he allowed himself.

"Fuck, baby, every part of you can get me off." He knew you couldn't hear him, but he cradled a hope that maybe his voice would appear in your dream. Joel knew how much you liked it when he growled filth in your ear. "Wish I could slide into your tight pussy, but I don't want to wake you up." He continued his shallow thrusts, feeling closer and closer to the edge. His heavy balls were drawn up tight, ready to burst. "Maybe next time, when you're not mad and don't sleep in your panties I will just stuff your pussy full of my cock. Bet a pretty cock worshiper like you would love to wake up with me buried deep inside her cunt."

Imagining himself sliding inside your warm wet pussy while you were still asleep was his undoing. His cock started pulsing, spurting one, two, three thick long ropes between your thighs, almost feeling them now sticking to your skin. Fuck, how he was supposed to explain that?

"Fu- fuck fuck fuck fuuuuck"

He licked his top lip, sweat beading in his cupid's bow, and kissed his lover's neck. Joel's breathing was labored, his heart practically breaking his ribcage with the intensity of its beating that he tried to calm down.

"You know, you could've just said you were sorry." Your voice was sleepy, barely louder than a whisper, but it deafened Joel's unsuspecting ears.

"Baby, I…–"

You turned around, tugging his hands around you in a tight embrace, and kissed him sloppily on his lips. "I'm glad you came, but now it's my turn. You got another one in ya, cowboy?"

"Fuck yes."

_________________

leave a comment if you liked that, ily

#i am not a saddie #1k celebration #iamasaddie fic #Joel Miller x f!reader #joel miller smut

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artificial-transmutations · 1 year

Text

Two sides of the same coin - Sauna

"Come on, it's just sauna! Nobody will care if you are naked!" Dan said, trying to convince Chris to join him in the sauna for once. It wasn't the first time he tried, but Chris was stubborn.

"And besides, you really need to go out more. You're always home alone." Dan continued to press the point.

"Ugh. Fine!" Chris caved in.

Dan smiled triumphantly at him and quickly headed towards the bathroom, leaving Chris behind. As soon as he closed the door, Chris regretted giving in so easily. He hated being seen without clothes on. But Dan was probably right, he really should go out more. And doing something for his health for a change also sounded agreeable.

Only half an hour later, they arrived at the sauna. It was sunny Saturday afternoon, so most people were outside, making the empty sauna not much of a surprise. Chris didn't mind - that way, he wouldn't have any gay guys staring at his junk while he was in there.

Not that this would happen anyway. It's not that Chris wasn't attractive (he thought), with his guy next door look, but his roommate Dan was something else. Dan was that kind of guy who spend way too much time at the gym, eating healthy and brought home a different girl almost every night. In short, Dan was the stereotypical jock.

Both men quickly got changed and entered the sauna. The heat hit them immediately, as hot air was rushing through the ventilation system. They stood there for a moment, enjoying the warmth and humidity. Then, they sat down on one of the wooden benches. It took Chris a bit to get acclimated to the hot air. Dan however was leaning back relaxed, with his eyes closed and man-spreading badly.

Chris just shook his head and tried to relax as well. However, as he was leaning back, he noticed something a sparkle next to Dan's hand.

"Hey Dan, look, next to your right hand. What's that?" he asked?

Dan opened his eyes and looked at what Chris was pointing at. He saw it too now, a small glimmering coin lying next to his hand. Curiously, Dan reached over to pick up the coin.

As he did so, the coin disappeared into thin air.

"What the..."

"It's gone," Dan said confusedly, looking around the bench and under it.

"Did you drop it?"

"No... I don't think so."

Dan shook his head. "Weird. Anyway, back to relaxing."

Chris nodded and leaned back again, wondering how such a small thing could disappear so suddenly. He decided to focus on getting warm instead.

After a few minutes, however, Chris felt weird. He couldn't help looking over to Dan again, who was relaxing in about the same pose as before, his skin wet with sweat. He could really understand why the girls were all over him, the sweat accentuated his toned muscles nicely and he always kept clean and well-groomed. He couldn't help but feel a pang of inferiority. He could never hope to get such a body.

Meanwhile, Dan felt really good. The hot damp air was relaxing and stimulating, even making him a bit horny. Perhaps he would have to hit the bars after this, find some girl for tonight.

He started thinking about how to approach a girl he wanted to fuck, or perhaps two girls at once, and how he might get them both naked. Damn, he was getting hard just thinking about it. Should he hide his erection? He wasn't alone here, after all.

Dan looked over to see if Chris had noticed anything amiss, but the other boy seemed lost in thought. Dan sighed and turned back to his own thoughts. He didn't want to hide anyways. Dan was, of course, not gay, no, not a single gay thought in his mind. But the thought of poor little Chris being confronted with his big stiff rod was strangely exciting for Dan. He knew that Chris' cock was smaller than his own, he had seen it before.

When Chris looked over to Dan the next time, he could see him smirking. Not only that, but as he looked over, Dan's cock was slowly rising, growing stiff all out in the open. Chris rolled his eyes. Probably, Dan was thinking about girls. Did he have to do that here? Still, his cock was pretty magnificent. Cut, straight and glistening from sweat and especially, it was big. Dan was really blessed with a great body, Chris thought. And he did take good care of it, too. His crotch was always shaved cleanly. Was it? Chris leaned closer to have a better look through the foggy air. No, actually, it was not. Apparently, Dan had been somewhat lazy on grooming down there. Several dark hairs framed his fully erect cock now and there were even some on his balls. Also, Chris was pretty sure, Dan was cut. The mouth-watering cock (where did that thought come from?) in front of him however clearly still had its foreskin. It was getting harder and harder for Chris to think, his head felt like cotton.

Perhaps, he should try something new, Dan mused. Normally, he went for the big-breasted bimbos, but today he felt more like trying something new. A tomboy girl perhaps, with only the smallest tits? Or perhaps even completely flat-chested? His hand went over his abs. He felt the short hairs there and the layer of fat over his six pack. Sure, he wasn't as well in shape as he used to be, but it was still enough to get anyone he wanted into his bead. There were enough girls having daddy issues and most boys loved his mixture of fat and muscles. He stroked through his forest of chest hair and closed his hand around his cock, beginning to pump.

Chris couldn't believe his eyes. Now Dan had started jerking off, right in the middle of a public sauna. How... strangely exciting, he thought. Chris leaned even closer to have a better look and felt himself lose balance, falling forward on the bench. He felt incredibly weak. His body was soft and sort of fluffy. What was happening?

Yeah, Dan grinned to himself, as he was pumping his hairy cock. He certainly wouldn't have difficulties finding a boy or two to worship his ex-jock body tonight. He imagined some twink licking his hairy chest and another one being pressed into Dan's musky and hairy armpits. That brought him over the edge and Dan came all over himself, the bearded face showing pure bliss.

After panting for a bit, he looked around before he spotted his discarded towel on the other bench. He used it to wipe his cum and dry off some sweat before wrapping it around his still stiff groin and went to leave. Time to hit the clubs.

You can find all parts of the series here - but don't worry, they are not connected!

#inanimate tf #inanimate transformation #male transformation #sweat #ex-jock #two sides of the same coin

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all-you-need-is-paul-mccartney · 1 month

Text

Baby It's You (Teen!John Lennon x Teen!Female!Reader)

A/N: Hello! Yes, I'm alive, and yes, I know I haven't posted anything original on this blog in over 3 years, but that's gonna change!

Thank you all for sticking around so long, my life did a 180 about a month or so ago and now I can get back to one of the things I love doing most: giving you all some juicy fanfiction to enjoy!

I've had an influx of enthusiastic followers and readers on my last oneshot ask for more writing, and I will be delivering! I have upcoming Paul and George oneshots underway; but first, I think it's time we show John a little love!

P.S. we'll probably consider this an AU fic since John went to private school, and he is going to school with the reader in this one. Sorry for the lack of authenticity in advance!

Summary: Your friend, John, invites you to the first Fair of the year with the intentions of evolving some spontaneous behaviour within you. You find just the thing there to prove to John just how daring and fun you could be-- and then things go sideways.

WARNINGS: This has been sitting in my notes FOREVER so I wouldn't be surprised if there were typos.

Also, there is a heteronormative behaviour in this fic because of the time it was set in, but I want to disclaim that LOVE IS LOVE and I, in no way, support heteronormative/ anti LGBTQ+ behaviour. Love who you want to love; just be happy doing so<3

Also Also, she is a LONG one like the other oneshot, so I advise you read this when you've got some time on your hands!

Swearing is almost a certainty at this point, but no really mature themes, so a T rating is probably enough for this one.

It was a hot Friday afternoon, at the very end of the school year; and there were hundreds of telltale signs:

The teacher was well over his curriculum and he sat at his desk reading a book in silence, student-made work was no longer strewn about on the walls, the classroom was humid even with everyone fanning themselves and each other; and the students...

You could tell the students were just dying to get home for the summer.

There were five minutes left on the clock, and you sat at your desk packing your things away. You spent the last hour doodling, but you wanted to be ready to take off as soon as the bell sounded.

As you zipped your bag up, you saw a little flash of white in your peripheral, and when you glanced back at the surface of your desk, you noticed a folded piece of paper-- a note!

You looked around briefly, but no one indicated to you where to pass it, so it had to have been for you.

And if the note was for you, then there was only one person it could have been from.

You unraveled the little piece of paper, revealing the question the paper possessed.

"Fair? Tonight? -yours truly"

That evening in particular, the local fair was going to erect itself in the biggest park in town, and everyone at school was going to be there. What better way to blow off steam at the end of a long year of hard work?

You shook your head at his pathetic complimentary close, your eyes rolling to the back of your head so far they almost didn't come back.

The bell rang, and before you could even consider doing anything else with the note, everyone took off out the door, as did you, knowing fully well "yours truly" was going to be waiting for you at your locker.

As you rounded the corner to the hallway your locker was in, you finally caught glimpse of him. He was leaning against it with his arms crossed, one leg over the other as his eyes wandered the other students for your face; and when your eyes locked, his expressionless mouth couldn't help but tighten upwards.

Perhaps his smile was out of kindness, but it was most likely because he was a jokester, and quite frankly couldn't get enough of teasing you.

And now his target was spotted.

He opened his mouth to speak, but you spoke first. "You know how much I hate how you sign these off, right?"

You presented the note in hand adjacent to your head as your face displayed a disapproving cringe, cheeks pink in mild humiliation.

"John, I only ever get notes written from you, so the flowery signoff is unnecessary," you put the note down, pointing at him with a frown.

"That note-passing was so open! You know if the teacher ever caught something like that, he'd make me read it out loud to the class, surely you know I'd die on the spot, and then my ghost will haunt you until you died too!"

His smile only grew wider at your words, almost as if he'd been betting with himself what your response to all of this was going to be.

"Also, you're not even in my last class," you rambled on, "so how you managed to have it smuggled in beats me."

"Oh, come on, y/n, you know you'd love all the attention you'd get out of something like that," he gestured to the paper, and you shook your head before crumpling it into a ball in your hand and tossing it at his head, to which it bounced off, and then was immediately trampled on as other students hurried down the hallway.

The both of you weren't strangers; you frequented playdates with John as children, and then you went to school together, so you basically watched each other grow up. John, for as long as you'd known him, usually displayed confident and sometimes mischievous behaviour towards others that typically you'd find unappealing for a man to display.

"People thinking I'm with you? That is not the kind of attention I'm after."

Not that you ever found John appealing, in any way. He was your buddy; you tolerated his behaviour. That being said, over the years he started lightening up on the harsher jokes with you, opting for more of a platonic flirt more than anything else, finding it was a less harmless way to poke fun at you.

"And the Fair, John? Really?"

The boy shrugged his hands up to defend his suggestion. "What's so bad about the Fair?!"

You rolled your combination into your locker, and he shifted out of the way so you could get into it better once you got it unlocked.

"Nothing's wrong with going to the Fair. Going to the Fair with you on the other hand..." you tisked at him before reaching into your locker to retrieve what binders and books you had left in there. John never used his locker, so he was just waiting on you.

You tossed your bag up over your shoulder once you shoved your books inside, and before John could interject with an if, and, or but, you put your hand up to silence him.

"You left me lost in that fun house--"

"But that was literally ten ago, y/n!"

"Doesn't mean I'm over it!"

You took the lead towards the exit doors, and John followed suit, searching for the right words to convince you to go with him.

"If you go with me tonight, I'll try to win you a stuffed animal,"

"We're doing bribery now, are we?" You smirked, reaching out for the doors and pushing through until both you and John were outside, standing under the sun. It was nice for once for the sun to have been out from behind the clouds.

"Look, you're just always hanging out with your girlies, and I've got my mates, but they're all going to the fair with other people tonight," John started as you both headed to the sidewalk and began to make your way to your place.

"We never really do spontaneous things anymore, just you and I. And, I don't know, growing up a little might have had something to do with it... but it doesn't mean I'm not still your friend, though. I wanna do things with you."

You took John's words into consideration. One thing you really liked about John was that he was passionate, and poetic. You'd seen this reflected in some of his writing before, and he often discussed with you how much he liked music, and how he dreamed that his poems could very well one day soon become songs...

Now, it's not like he spoke the way he wrote, but his thoughts translated to words so quickly and effortlessly, and he, as a speaker, really made you think twice about what he said because he sounded so sure when he spoke.

"... I suppose we have been distant in terms of having fun. I know I won't be able to win an argument with you that studying every other night together is considered 'fun', even though I think otherwise."

You and John both rounded left down the next street, which happened to be where you lived; the benefits of living a block away from school. Your house was coming up, meaning this conversation had to end soon.

"Y/n, of the two of us, it's you who needs to be more spontaneous. Just say yes and come with me tonight."

At this point, you and John had slowed to a stop and were standing at the end of the driveway, facing one another as you pondered whether tonight was going to be spent inside reading and listening to music, or stimulated by exciting noises and lights while you stuffed your face with Carnival delicacies and treats.

"... If I say yes, will I still get my stuffed animal?" You already knew the response as the smile returned to John's face.

You and John made it to the Fair for 6:30, and it was already full of life; children on the rides screaming their heads off, friends competing in mini games like Ring Toss and Balloon Darts, and the smell of popcorn and candy floss swirled through the air.

As you looked around at all of the rides available, you barely noticed John going out of his way to buy tickets for both you and him for the night. When he returned to you, he tried to see if you were looking at a particular ride. "Anything catching your eye?"

"I feel like they have different stuff this year. Like, that one must be new," you pointed to a group a different rides that you'd never seen before. "Let's look around, and if anything looks interesting enough, I say we go for it."

John bought you enough tickets for you both to ride everything anyways, but you two had all night, and nowhere to be the next day, so you agreed to start at one end of the fair, and work your way through it.

The first ride that caught the attention of either one of yous were the Tea Cups.

"Remember the one time I threw up on you on that ride?" You asked John with a little smile, to which he replied without a beat,

"And then I threw up on you and caused a chain reaction with all of the other kids on the ride?"

You both laughed and cringed at the rather unpleasant memory before John kindly took your elbow and pulled you towards the ride gently, knowing full well that your matured stomachs would be able to handle it now, and your moving feet indicated you weren't objecting the idea of getting on.

"We gotta start the fun somewhere, Love. After you," John presented four tickets to the ride operator, and you chose your favourite colour cup to climb into.

"If you just don't spin the cup, we'll make it out of here safe," you warned John with a joking wagging finger, and he saluted to you respectfully as he closed the hatch to the cup and took a seat next to you.

"Don't worry, we won't meet the same fate as last," he grabbed the wheel at the centre of the cup as if to indicate he was going to steady it the whole time, and you were excited to see how well he'd do; and even more excited to make fun of him when he did a bad job.

The ride shot to life, and as the cups began dancing around in different patterns, you watched in amusement as John tried his very hardest to keep the cup from spinning; his attention sometimes turning to you, and he watched as your hair whipped around your smiling face as the ride threw the both of you around.

Your beating heart was building up adrenaline as the ride spun on. You suddenly threw your hands overtop of John's, and his eyes shot up to you, hands going slack on the wheel, and you took that moment to whip the cup around as hard as you could, the world becoming a blur around you, and your energy within escaping in a bound of squeals and giggles.

John couldn't help but join in, your laughter was contagious, and the excitement he felt seeing you having fun made his heart ache a little, but in a good way.

The ride was over much sooner than the either of you would have liked, the both of you combing your fingers through your hair to appear more presentable as your tea cup came to a complete stop. John opened the door for you, and you both continued on on wobbly legs to see what else the Fair had to offer.

After a few carnival games and slow, paced rides, you finally grab John by the wrist after he suggests doing something you'd rather do later so he didn't take off too far.

"I think we should do the Ferris Wheel, John," You dropped his wrist and pointed to the ride in the distance behind him, his eyes following your gaze to it.

"Come along, then," it was now his turn to grab your wrist, and lead you along.

That was one unspoken rule you had with John: he never held your hand. You weren't sure why, and you didn't really care-- you didn't want to hold his hand. You just always settled on the idea John was really committed to the joke about not wanting to get Cooties; and honestly, you respected his devotion to the joke.

Your wait in line to ride the Ferris Wheel was a short one, and your chest filled with excitement yet again as you and John took your seats and the ride operator strapped you in.

As the ride filled with other people, you and John slowly made your way to the very top of the ride, allowing yourselves to take in the view of the Fair that seemed to stretch forever.

"We really should have done this first so we could have seen everything all at once," you said, peering down at some of the unrecognizable stands and rides surrounding you both. One in particular caught your eye, and it was in the shape of a space ship from those cartoons depicting the future.

"We definitely have to check that one out," you pointed to it, and John nodded his head in agreement.

"It seems to be right by the games and food. We'll grab some candy while we're in the area."

"And...?"

"And I'll win you that prize, yeah yeah yeah, I know what I promised."

The Ferris Wheel then took off, and you and John savoured the ride, watching the sun slowly fall towards the horizon, the most beautiful colours painted across the sky.

"I'm glad you convince me to come with you, Johnny. I'm having loads of fun. Thank you," you didn't shout, just loud enough that John could hear, and he smiled at you.

"Like I said, if anyone needs to be more spontaneous, it's you. If I can fix that in any way, I'll take the chance," you smiled back at his words, turning your full attention back to the sky as the ride began to slow, knowing this moment, like everything else, was going to come to an end.

You and John were on a mission to get over to the space ship, passing by a bunch of other rides and games you pointed to and indicated aloud along the way that they were on your To-Do list that evening.

As you approached what you two initially thought was a ride, you discovered that the rocket was actually just a still building. There were two lines entering the ship, and there were a few people in each line.

One of the Fair Staff was walking by, and John stopped him before he went too far. "Hey, what's this one all about?"

"Cosmic Hearts is a matchmaking activity we just added! You're matched with someone of your preference in the other line anonymously, and you both enter the rocket. You spend two minutes in the dark together, and then you leave together when the doors open, revealing who you've matched with. You can also think of it as a two-way Kissing Booth."

The staff member looked at the both of you before adding on slowly, "established couples usually don't use that one..."

"Oh, you must be mistaken, we're not--" John couldn't even correct the guy before he was walking away again. You looked from John, back to the metal space ship. The guys standing in line weren't bad looking at all.

"... I wouldn't mind spending two minutes in the dark with any of them," you thought aloud, noticing that each person in line had at least one unique physical attractive quality.

"Yeah, well I'd be worried they'd be touchy with you. In the dark and all," John huffed, shaking his head at the picture he painted himself, and you bursted out laughing.

"What, so you're my chaperone now? Going in there is knowing full well you're going to have hands all over you. Maybe I want to be squeezed up a little, Johnny, is there any harm in that?"

"I mean," John's face flushed a rosy pink before shutting his eyes and shaking his head again, as if that was going to stop his imagination from doing what an imagination does.

"That's.. not something I want to picture."

"Well look, you don't have to anymore," you took John's arm and pulled him towards one of the game stalls close by. "But you do have to try to win me that stuffed bear. We all know that's what I came for in the first place."

The distraction you set up was a good one. The game you brought John to was pretty much just Balloon Darts but forest- themed. You watched as John tried his very best to aim his darts, but he just couldn't quite seem to make the mark for that bear.

The fifth round came and went, and John was still slapping more tickets down. You knew it didn't help that John was legally blind and flat-out refused to wear his glasses, but you weren't about to start an argument with him over that.

After John used up the rest of his darts from that round, he looked over at you with frustration and he sighed. "Look, I might just need a quick break," John took the tickets from inside his pocket, and placed them in your hand.

"I'm running to the loo, it's just on the other side of the park, just hang out here, play a round... or four... and see if you're a better shot than me,"

"I'm always a better shot than you, Lenny," you called to him as he disappeared in the crowd, waving back to you as if to acknowledge your cocky response.

You went to turn back to the game, but something stopped you. You took a quick glance over your shoulder, and eyed the lineup at the rocket ship. You couldn't believe how good looking the people in the lineup were, you could only imagine what the mystery people in the second line looked like.

And then John's words from earlier became apparent in your head, statement ringing in your ears.

"Y/n, of the two of us, it's you who needs to be more spontaneous."

You furrowed your brow as you thought about this decision you were about to make. The closest lineup to you wasn't long at all, and before you knew it, your feet were pretty much walking themselves up to the line.

There was a girl about your age doing the matching for your line, and she met your gaze after letting the next person in. She grinned, and approached you.

"Hello! Welcome to Cosmic Hearts, do you know how we work?"

"Sort of... I just don't know how the matches are made."

"Oh, it's no worries, we do that all for you! We only really take the girl's request for preference types, and then we match accordingly from the other line. Is there something in particular you want about your match? Looks? Behaviour?"

You raised an interested eyebrow, skeptical about how accurate your preferences would be in terms of the match.

That being said, it was just an elaborate kissing booth, it's not like you were using the stall to find the love of your life-- no, you were looking to prove to John that you could be daring, that you weren't as boring as he maybe thought.

"Look, girl-to-girl here, I trust your judgement in choosing me a good-looking guy..." your voice tapered off for a moment before you added, " I just might want someone who doesn't seem too overconfident."

The Match Girl smiled wide, and gestured toward the door to the spaceship with her hand, pushing it open to let you in. You were the next girl in line, and the boys in the lineup watched as you took a deep breath and moved in.

As you walked toward the threshold of the dark room, Match Girl filled you in on the instructions.

"The other side of the curtain will be your 'contact area', only walk through when you hear the other door close; that'll mean he's inside as well. You'll have two minutes alone together, at which point we will open the central door and let you both out"

Your heart began to quicken. It didn't really occur to you until now that you were about to make out with a complete stranger in the dark, and leave that spaceship hand-in-hand just to prove to John wrong about you lacking in as much fun as he thought.

But this impulsive plan of yours also excited you a lot.

Maybe by the end of the night, you'd be leaving with a boyfriend, and telling John that you told him so.

You took your final step into the rocket, and your heart pounded against your ribcage as it all went dark.

After about thirty seconds of silence, you heard some shuffling from the other side of the curtain, and then a simple, "your two minutes start now," from the staff.

Your heart was beating so loud, you could hear the blood flowing in your ears. Your remaining senses enhanced, provided your lack of vision, and you followed the wall to the right with your hand, past the curtain, and you could feel an immediate change in temperature in the room.

You were much warmer now, hyper-aware of the fact that you were sharing body-heat with whoever the staff matched you with. You had to relay it in your head a few times what this actually meant for you. It meant that the stranger in this room with you was going to get to know you quite intimately in a pretty short amount of time.

This made you think a moment or two about the other party in this situation: The Stranger. What was his story? Was he dared to jump in line by his buddies to get some action? Maybe his story is that he just wanted to have his first kiss to get it just done and over with, or maybe he, like yourself, was just doing it for the Hell of it.

Whatever the reason, you felt you owed it to them to give them a decent snogging.

Your hand continued to drift along the wall before your thumb bumped into another hand. You gasped quietly, knowing you were close to the stranger, just not exactly sure of where abouts until now.

You lifted your hand off the wall at the same time as him, and as to not lose you, he made sure to reach out and take your hand in his gently, seeming more like an offer than a demand, which you took, admittedly rather nervously, especially when his other hand reached out to grab the other hand at your side.

Something was just so thrilling picturing so many renditions of handsome young men in your head, mixing and matching what he looked like based on what you could feel. His hands were larger than yours, and his fingers were calloused.

He played guitar, or bass, or something, and you knew this because John played, and you remember him telling you once that the strings were really hard on the hands, and you could just tell by looking at his hands that he wasn't joking.

You just thought the feeling was such a contrast against your own hands, which were soft and untouched, and you were sure with the way this guy was running his thumbs over your palms, and the pads of your fingers, he was admiring the contrast as well.

You almost wanted to say something to him about it, but he had you stuck in a trance, especially when he let your hands go for a moment to gently feel up your arms for your shoulders. You tried your best not to be too reactive, but you couldn't help the goosebumps trailing after his touch.

His hands moved up, and you felt his fingertips graze the crooks of your neck and then up under your jaw.

Neither of you spoke, this moment too intimate for the silence to break. You and he breathed so shallow, it was hard to even believe there was someone in the room with you.

But there was, and his fingers traced your jawline slowly, one hand deviating up to cradle the back of your head while the other gently traced around your chin.

Your lips parted, your own hands reaching out for his waist so you had some idea of where he was in front of you. Your fingers found his jacket, and as you tightened your hands around the leather, you felt him move a little closer as his thumb finally found its way to your bottom lip.

You felt his breath on your face, and you held your own, squeezing your eyes shut when you realized they had been wide open the whole time.

And finally, after what seemed like too long, his thumb disappeared and he replaced it with his own lips.

The kiss was soft, and not pushy at all, but you were tense like a rock under his touch from how nervous you actually were, and you just kept still.

He pulled away for a moment, and you could feel your face burning. That was not the kind of note you were going to leave on. Whoever this was, he had clearly gotten your attention, and you needed to return the favour.

Your one hand moved up his chest, over his collarbone and around his neck to pull him back down towards you. Your lips came together again, and you felt him melt into your embrace after an unsure second, hands dropping down to snake around your waist and pull you flush against him.

You sighed against his mouth, and he pushed his tongue past your lips, all of your past worries melting away. You were in heaven, so drunk on intimacy that you forgot what you were even doing in there in the first place. You tried pulling him even closer by the jacket, to which he responded by slowly backing you against the wall, one of his hands dropping to your hip, and the other returning to the back of your head like before.

Your hand behind his neck slipped up into his hair, and he moaned gently when you tightened your fingers up in the strands and pulled a little.

"Yes, Baby..." the words tumbled from his mouth lowly, and you felt a chill shoot right up your spine; you immediately froze up, lips separating as the realization hit you. You felt like you were going to faint.

"John?!" Your question was short, but clear, and you felt your suspicions were all too correct when you felt all of his muscles tense up as well at the sound of your voice.

"...Y/n?!" His voice cracked, body frozen in place like a statue. As were you, grip still tight in his hair and on his jacket.

You were speechless-- you couldn't believe the one you just spent the last minute and a half or so with-- the one with whom you spent the most intimate experience in your entire life-- was John.

The gentle touching, the embracing of the heavy silence, the patient behaviour, the soft kissing, the respect of your boundaries, and the feeling of wanting more-- it was all John.

This was the first time in your life you had ever experienced John in a situation where he didn't have the words he needed to speak at his disposal.

But to be fair, neither did you. What would anyone do in a situation like this?

It became all the more real for the both of you a moment later when the doors opened up, the lights around the rocket ship lighting John's face for you to see, and your face for him. You both sported embarrassing shades of red on your cheeks, and John's mouth just hung open in perpetual shock as he took in the fact that it was you.

After a second, you both came back down to earth, and your hands came zipping off each other so fast, John scratching his head nervously and giving you space from the wall, and you folding your arms over your chest and gripping your biceps tightly with your fingers.

You couldn't even look John in the eye, nor could he with you, let alone speak. You walked out the door, John at your side. The Match Girl waited by the bottom of the ramp, grinning ear-to-ear. If only she'd known.

"Pretty good-looking, huh?" She nudged to you with a wink, and you could feel your face grow hotter as you glanced over to John. You made brief eye-contact, and you cast your eyes straight to the ground when it happened.

You were thinking things about John you never would have before had it not been for that stupid snog box.

"Yes," was all you could say, nodding for the most part and squeaking out a soft thank you to her before you turned on your heel, and beelined straight for the women's room, rushing out to John that you were running to the loo without looking back at him.

You were too focused on finding some cold water to splash in your face, and a quiet space to figure out what to do in this situation; the lights and sounds had your head just spinning, and it was too difficult to concentrate.

The women's room was quiet enough, and when you felt you'd splashed enough water in your face, you went and sat in one of the stalls for a while to break down the situation that just happened, and what you were going to do to fix it.

John was your friend. There was no way you were going to let something like this drive a wedge between you, especially if you just had to explain yourselves. You had your reasons going in there, as did he.

You were just hoping this could be something you could both look back on in the future and laugh.

You took a few sobering deep breaths before leaving the women's room. You rounded the corner, not quite sure where to begin looking for John, but you found you didn't have to go far when a rather familiar set of fingers took hold of your own as soon as you stopped.

You glanced over your shoulder and there he was. He'd been waiting for you the whole time.

And now he was holding your hand.

That's new.

"... Can we talk?" you spoke simultaneously, and you both smiled a little. John still couldn't seem to hold your gaze for too long without needing to tear his eyes away and resort to looking at his shoes, yet he still held a firm grip on your hand.

You'd never seen him like this before. It was sobering to see him without so much confidence.

"Where did you wanna talk? Nowhere's really private here."

"... Did you just wanna get outta here?" As soon as the words left his mouth, your shoulders lowered in relief. You both definitely had enough excitement for the night, and when you nodded your head sheepishly, John gave your hand a little squeeze, gestured you to come with him with his head, and you both headed for the Fair exit.

Your stroll down the town streets were quiet. Nothing was said between you two for the first little while, your strides were slow, your destination was unknown, and your hands were still clasped together. You took in the night air, for the sun had dropped below the horizon while you were in the spaceship, and the temperatures were lower.

You weren't too sure yet how John felt about all of that night's events so far, and what he thought of you. Clearly, based on the fact that his hand was still in yours, some opinion of his had changed.

Was he comfortable holding your hand now knowing it was you who shared such an intimate moment with him? Or was he maybe wanting to break off this friendship with you all because of tonight, and hand-holding was the only way he could think to comfort you?

At one point, John's fingers unraveled from yours, and you both slowed to a stop. He shrugged off his jacket and wordlessly draped it over your shoulders before you pushed your arms up into the sleeves. John tried looking you in the eye again, and he swallowed nervously, face going red yet again.

"John, we need to talk about what happened."

"I know."

You took his hand this time, and guided him to the curb, sitting down together. Your fingers left his, and you both planted your hands at the curb at your sides.

There was silence for a moment as the memories of what happened back at the Fair resurfaced in your minds, what you were both feeling for each other, physically and emotionally, in your literal moments of blissful ignorance...

"Okay. I'm just going to put this out there right now. John, I had absolutely no idea that they matched me with you, or that you were even in line, for that matter." You sighed before continuing on, feeling the creep of warmth washing over your face yet again.

"I jumped in line impulsively when you left because I figured if you came back and you saw me leaving the rocket with a guy, I could prove to you tonight that I can be just as spontaneous and daring and fun as you."

You could see the gears turning in John's head when you finished saying your part, and after a second of putting the pieces together, his eyes widened, and then this wide smile spread right across his face, and, to your utter relief, he started laughing.

And it sounded so different compared to all of the other times he laughed around you. You couldn't quite place exactly what was different this time, but you found it to be more melodic than usual; more genuine. It was like music to your ears.

"I uh, I jumped in line for kind of the same reason." You raised a confused eyebrow, so John elaborated a little more, smile faltering a little as he cleared things up.

"Let me explain; If you saw me leaving the rocket with a girl, I was hoping I could convince you to do something tonight a little out of your comfort zone, like I did with that."

There was your Pièce De Résistance: John's reason for being in there all along was to teach you to live a little. And you were simply in there to live.

"Not that I wanted to see you specifically go through with the spaceship and getting felt up the wrong way, per se, but I just..."

John's words trailed off, and you could tell he was struggling to find words again. So, he decided to take this conversation in another direction.

"Okay, look, y/n, I don't want you to be under the impression that I think you're no fun. It's just not true. I adore you. There's just something about seeing you at the peak of excitement that makes me feel warm inside, like a child. I see this in moments you doubt yourself, but you still take that chance and you come out successful in the end, shining with confidence. I wanted to see you tonight with that same glow. And I would have if I hadn't have made fun in the first place that you were such a bore, so I'm sorry."

John dropped his head down after he finished speaking, and you looked at him for a moment, blinking once before reaching out to rub his back.

"Johnny, there is nothing to be sorry about." He turned his gaze to look at you, and you took some long pauses between your sentences. John was patient, eyes watching your face, and hanging onto every word you said.

"Of all the people I could have ended up with in that rocket tonight, I don't think you have any idea just how grateful I am that it was you in there with me, and not some stranger."

You didn't think you could keep it inside forever just what you thought about John's kissing, but you didn't think you'd give up fifteen minutes after the situation, either.

"John, I've kissed boys before, that's no secret between us; but what is is that I've never kissed a boy the way I kissed you tonight, and the attention you were giving back to me, I thought I nearly fell for you in there, and I had no clue it was even you," you laughed a little, the words feeling funny in your mouth, especially when they were for John's ears, only. Those words elicited red faces from the both of you.

"... I never thought I'd ever be nervous looking you in the eye, but to be quite honest, all that comes to mind when I see your face right now is the bubbling of excitement in my chest, and the feel of my legs going wobbly. God, John, would I be crazy to say I want you to kiss me like that all over again?"

You figured if you didn't throw the opportunity out there, you just might lose the chance to experience what you felt again, even if it meant just one last time in your life. But when John remained silent for longer than you hoped, your confidence began to falter. Perhaps John wasn't so comfortable with you anymore.

"... Would I be crazy?" You asked again, this time just above a whisper. John was the kind of person you expected to laugh something like this off. Perhaps he'd tease you for a moment, but ultimately tell you it was no big deal before gently rejecting you.

Instead, his silence indicated something much different. His eyes darted to your lips for a moment, a hand reaching up to hold the back of your head gently as he glanced up into your eyes.

"Love, if you think you're crazy for thinking that, then what I'm thinking must make me completely mad."

Your heart pounded against your ribcage, and John decided not to waste any more time in reconnecting your lips.

At first it was a little strange, his mouth on yours, but it wasn't in any way unpleasant. You found yourself, before long, snaking your arms around John's shoulders as you pulled him ever closer, your chests now flush as he tilted his head to the side to deepen the kiss. You hummed at the contact, but John had to pull away soon after to catch a breath, but he kept your chests flush so he could feel your heartbeat.

The contrast of kissing him knowing full well who he was still didn't change the respect in his movements, and the gentleness of his kisses.

When your eyes met again, you couldn't help but smile nervously at him, biting down on your lip as you noticed his cheeks glowed pink.

"Wow," you sighed.

"I'll say," he responded, one corner of his mouth twitching up into a smirk as the pad of his thumb drew invisible patterns from your cheekbone down your jaw.

That's when your smile began to fall slowly, and John noticed this as he was going to dive in for another kiss.

"What's the matter, Love?"

"... I think I like this too much. I think I like you too much," you said bluntly. The more you and John indulged in what you both physically wanted, the more you realized what you were putting on the line.

"... And is that a problem?" John asked you gently, and you raised your eyebrow, pulling away a little more from the embrace.

"It's a problem because this puts our friendship at risk, John. Every time our lips touch, the harder it is to look at you platonically."

"Then don't look at me platonically anymore," His suggestion was so effortless as you felt his other hand reach up to play with your hair.

"... I never expected tonight to go the way it did. But y/n, the more I think about a situation where it was anyone but me in that rocket with you, the more jealous I'm becoming... The more grateful I am that it was me, too."

John took another moment to bask in the silence before clearing his throat, and looking you right in the eyes.

"My eyes are wider than they've ever been before, and my mind is so clear. Why don't we try dating?" He suggested after a moment of deciding whether to ask in the first place.

"Dating?!" You paused. "John, if anything were to happen to what we have..."

"I know you're scared, y/n. So am I. But... I also believe this can be the beginning of something really great."

John let the hand in your hair drop to his shoulder where one of your hands rested. He gave your fingers a squeeze before he raised your hand to his lips to kiss your knuckles.

"We already kind of go on dates, and now that kissing and hand holding is on the list of things we're comfortable with, we might as well just put a label on it."

John paused for a moment. "It's not like we have to scream it from the rooftops unless you wanted to. But... after tonight, it would be a treat to be able to walk around with my arm 'round your waist and proudly announce to the world that you're mine."

That comment of his made you bite back a toothy grin, but your red face really emphasized how his words made you feel. You were expecting a teasing jab from John, but, surprisingly, nothing came. Just hopeful eyes awaiting your response.

"If you're so confident we'll flourish romantically... then I'm with you, Johnny. We'll give it a go. But under one condition!"

John looked at you expectantly.

"You win me that damned stuffed animal tomorrow night, Lenny."

Now it was John's turn to grin, his arms curling around your body and pulling you into a warm embrace as he mumbled "deal" into your ear.

You were once again surrounded by leather, the crisp night air, the single dim beam of light from the streetlamp, and the faintest scent of whatever John's body wash was.

But most of all, you we're surrounded by young love.

You finally supposed that by the end of the night, you did end up leaving with a boyfriend, and telling John that you told him so.

You just had no clue you could kill two birds with one stone the way you had.

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A/A/N: I really hope you guys enjoyed this! I've had it in the works for LITERALLY four years now, and I am just SO glad it can be out in the world now.

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