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bouncybongfairy · 3 months

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SugarFreeze

Felix Catton x Fem Reader

Summary: With finals coming up in the next couple of weeks, your relationship with Oliver was falling apart. After spending 5 hours in the library, you run into Felix; who has a dangerous amount of jealousy over your relationship with Oliver. Needing to take this anger out on something, he decides your pussy is the best option.

Word Count: 2.0k

T/W: Hate fucking, Sadism kink, Blood kink. Shout out to @kaionyx who's blog I used as reference!

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Finals were only a couple weeks away and everyone was feeling the stress. Things with Oliver have been stressful and depleting to say the least. He’s been secluding himself due to the stress of finals. You’d been reaching out but it’s like trying to save someone while drowning yourself. Lacking the energy to fight for proper communication the relationship needed to thrive, you’d given up. Taking up the mindset of ‘if he wanted to, he would’ was helping you cope… kinda, not really. You've been studying in the library for almost five hours now, the only reason you stopped is because the librarian locking up for the night. The sun began setting but there was still light outside. You were currently re-reading the Ernesto Quiñonez novel that you’d be analyzing in your English class for the final. Annotating along the way, sticky notes poking out in every direction. Looking back, walking while having your nose buried into a book wasn’t the best idea. Which led to accidentally bumping into someone, sending you stumbling back and the book dropping into a puddle. Scrambling to pick it up, you open the pages and examine the now ruined sticky notes. The pen ink immediately starts to bleed, your eyes swell with tears. Devastated by hours of work, subject to water damage and having no control over it. You looked up to see who was responsible for ruining your day and saw none other than Felix.

“Sorry about that,” he said, taking a drag off his cigarette.

“It’s whatever,” you huffed, holding back your resentment and anger.

You did not like Felix, you’d never confront Oliver about this but you were sure they had some type of sexual tension between them. That wasn’t what irritated you, if they had a thing in the past that’s completely fine. However, there were times when you felt like Felix was trying to send you a message. Like when they would get drunk and fight, he would make direct eye contact with you. Sometimes you’d catch them cuddling on the couch or Felix would make sly comments in a ‘joking’ way. He offered you a drag and after the day you had accepted it. Both your dorms were in the same direction and as much as you hated him, it was safer walking back with the company. This led to small talk along the way.

“I don’t know how you’re so relaxed with finals coming up, my minds been in the gutter lately,” you said, taking off your glasses and cleaning them.

“This helps,” he said, pulling out a 12 oz bottle of Everclear 190-proof.

He offered you a drink and at first you declined. Then you looked back down at your book, looking at the notes that were only getting harder to decipher. Grabbing the bottle you took three confident swings and immediately regretted it as your throat and chest began to burn. Not being a big drinker, you felt like the wind got knocked out of you. He of course laughed at you for reacting so outwardly,

“You could barely handle three sips, I'll be taking that,” he said, going to reach for the bottle.

This made you feel like he underestimated you so of course you took a couple more sips. Shivering at the taste and feeling of the alcohol run down your throat. While you grimaced at the taste and stinging sensation, he took a single swig and then capped the bottle. Putting it in the front pocket of his shorts. The only thing you had for breakfast was coffee and a half a bagel and you were starting to regret that. The liquor began to take its effect, that warm feeling in your stomach was starting to spread throughout your body. By the time you got to your dorm, you were giggling and swaying a bit. Felix helps you maintain balance by holding onto your upper arm and letting you lean against him as you walk. Immediately noticing that his grip was tight, like hurting you a bit. Due to you becoming increasingly more intoxicated you didn’t think it was that deep. He was probably just making sure you didn’t lose balance.

“Do you like uh- maybe wanna come in or something?” you asked, trying your very best to sound slightly sober.

“Are you sure?” he asked, still holding your arm as you unlocked the door. His voice sounded sickeningly sweet, leaning up against the door looking down at you. Feeling his breath hit the top of your head made you shiver.

“Yeah is that w-wrong or?” you said starting to feel a bit insecure.

“Oh no, I just want to make sure you’re comfortable,” you just nodded your head in agreement and opened the door; the fact that he sounded so coherent made you nervous.

“I’m gonna use the bathroom and change, do you need or can- are you okay waiting for a second?” you asked, throwing your book onto the desk.

“Take your time, no worries,” a weird feeling began to bubble in your stomach. He was never this nice to you, and his tone almost came off as passive aggressive because of how nice it sounded.

It was when you began to change that you noticed truly how drunk you were. Barely being able to keep balance as you undress. You put on an oversize tee-shirt but as you went to put underwear on, you hesitated. Obviously due to the recent tension in you and Oliver’s relationship, you hadn’t fucked in weeks. You missed that form of stress relief and it was starting to bother you. As much as you disliked Felix, you couldn’t deny how attractive he was. Taking a deep breath you throw the panties into a pile with the rest of the clothes. Checking your appearance in the mirror before walking out. Felix was sitting on the bed, man spreading with his elbows sitting on his knees. When you saw him, your heart started to pound so hard you could feel it in your ears. After examining your appearance, he began to chuckle. This made your face burn from insecurity, you asked him what was so funny and he stood up from the bed before responding.

“You’re a hypocrite,” he said, still laughing.

“What..?” you asked, confused and laughing nervously.

“You’re a whore. Are you actually fooling yourself into believing you invited me in for a platonic visit?” he asked, lighting a joint.

“I don’t- I didn’t..” This wiped the smile right off your face. Your mouth and throat were dry, and your brain couldn’t come up with any coherent sentences. He started walking forwards but you were frozen in place.

“Look at you, half naked and drunk. You look scared, like a bunny about to be taken by a hawk,” he said, smirking while continuing towards you.

“I’m not a whore,” you said, tears again starting to sting your eyes. Now feeling ashamed and intimidated.

“Oh? Oliver has told me some stories that make me think differently. I mean you were just fully dressed and you came back in nothing but a tee-shirt. Flaunting yourself in front of me, in Oliver’s fucking tee-shirt. God you are a piece of work,” he said, at this point he’d backed you against the door.

Every time he drew a breath in, his lower stomach would just barely touch yours. You looked up at him with tears running down your face. Internally panicking, unable to tell if he was angry or horny. The fact that you were turned on by this made you feel like he was right. Like you were too available but that was a nice way of putting it. Feeling extremely cornered you try and push him back with your shaking arm. He didn’t even sway, only chuckled and took the joint out of his mouth. He took the joint out of his mouth and brought it up against your lips.

“I’ve never..” you began to say but he put the crutch between your lips. You take a long drag, just to cough your lungs out after. He found this reaction very amusing, nearly doubling over in laughter. His reaction turned your insecurity and embarrassment into anger.

“You can either fuck me or get the fuck out. Seriously you’re making- pissing me off, fuck do you think t-this is?” you asked, voice cracking a bit again unable to hold back your tears. The inability to hide your emotions was making you feel even more vulnerable. He stood up and walked over to where you were pressed against the door.

“Not until I show you how Oliver should have treated you,” he said, picking you up by your waist and tossing you onto your bed.

He jumped onto the bed and smashed his lips against yours. This might be shameless to admit but you no longer cared about Oliver or exams or anything else. There wasn’t anything that could take you out of this moment, even the indignity that was developing. The kiss was sloppy and wild, both of you nipping and biting at each other's lips. He started kissing down your neck, lifting your shirt above your head. He raked his nails down both of your sides, stopping at your hips where his nails were breaking skin. He sat up on his knees, practically towering over you. Unbuckling his belt and letting his pants fall just past his crotch, exposing himself. You were shaking with anticipation, the look in his eyes was so feral and primal that it scared you slightly. Blood was slowly trickling down your hips for how hard he was gripping. He runs his hands over the scraps, tracing blood up your sides and up to your chest. You were nervous but more excited, unable to control your trembling body. You’d never had a hookup that was so intense and you couldn’t wait for more. He wrapped his blood stained hands around your throat and brought his lips to your ear,

“Not even wearing panties, thinking with your cunt I see,” he growled, tightening his hands. Moving your arms up to his head and tangling your fingers through the strands. The harder you pulled the stronger his grip became, like it was a game. Your chest was starting to burn as black and white dots appeared in your vision. He didn’t release his grip until one of your hands dropped from his hair onto the mattress. As you were trying to catch your breath, he flipped you over so you were laying on your stomach. He crawled on top, rubbing his shaft against your ass, taking in a sharp gasp in, your pulse quickening. Arching your back, trying to press yourself against his length. He grabs a fist full of your hair, so he could whisper into your ear.

“You stuck up little cock whore, tell me you don’t deserve him. I wanna hear you say it,” he grunted, rocking against you. Fat tears ran down your cheeks, you wanted to hang on to the last shred of dignity you had but that seemed to be far gone. You whispered it quietly, practically mumbling, In reaction to this he yanked your hair back further. Making you arch your back and an uncomfortable angle.

“I know you’re fucking stupid but you can hear, I said say it, not whisper into your pillow,” he grunted, you let out a whine and gave into the domination.

“I don’t fucking deserve him!” you cried out in anger and desperation.

He then buried himself inside you. Instead of keeping you arched, he drops his body weight onto you. Using both hands to prop himself up on the mattress, one of them was still tangled in your hair. Keeping your head forced against the mattress. He was pounding into you relentlessly, it wasn’t a gradual build up of speed. Just pure animalistic force, his hip bones were piercing into you from how much passion was behind his thrusts.

“I could tell you needed this, you’re so tight and needy,” he moaned.

Your stomach was hot and all you could feel was burning pleasure against your walls. It felt so shameful to be enjoying being so overstimulated and degraded, at the same time you’d never felt pleasure in this way. He was breathing so heavily above you, it made your skin prickle with goosebumps. Finally letting go of your hair and using your head to prop himself up to his knees. Grabbing you by the hips so that you were in doggie style. He rubbed his hands over your sides again which stung due to the abrasions caused by his nails. Moving his blood covered hands from the hips to your ass. After smacking his cock against your dripping cunt, he lines himself up and presses into you. The immense pleasure coming from being filled made you go braindead. The only thing you could think about was chasing your orgasm. Like you were in an unbreakable trance. He grabs the roach from your bedside table and relights it while maintaining his brutal pace. Watching your ass smack against his thighs every time he bucked into you was driving him crazy. Keeping the joint in his mouth, he starts spanking the bloody handprints he’s left on you just moments before. He could tell you were getting close by how you were spasming around his length. Still keeping you somewhat on your knees, he reaches up with one hand and grabs both of your wrists. He then uses his shins to hold down your legs. After taking one last drag of the joint he presses the cherry into your lower back right as you begin to orgasm. Immediately you began to recoil in pain but even as bad as it burned, you still rode out the orgasm that you’d so desperately been chasing. Pushing your backside up in the air to meet his pounding as he came. After you are finished, let your body go limp as he rides out his climax. Once he was done, he climbed off you and gathered his clothes. By the time he’d made it out the door, you were already passed out.

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javiscigarette · 8 months

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Sweet Spot

Summary: You get a promotion at work, so Joel dresses you up and takes you out for dinner but you're hungry for somethin else

Warnings: no use of y/n, smut with the tiniest sliver of plot, established relationship, fingering, fingering in public, rough sex, oral (m receiving), spitting, a bit of choking, daddy kink ofc, degradation,

w/c: 9k (omfg) of pwp :)

a/n: I don't loveee this one but I've been sitting on it for three months and I can't get the image of freshly showered Joel out of my mind so. Here we are. Also the daddy kink as taken over, I cant stop and I'm NOT sorry!! Pls let me know what you guys think, your comments and love are the only things keeping me going. (also also, if you're someone who likes making edits for pics PLS message me I am desperate and really bad at making them)

my masterlist

Joel is in the driveway leaning over the hood of his truck when you pull up to the house, fiddling with whatever new project he decided to start this afternoon. You’re able to catch a quick glimpse of his shirt riding up a bit, exposing an inch or two of the skin of his back before he hears your car and turns around.

You pull into the driveway next to his truck and hop out as soon as you’re in park. The warm sound of Joel’s laughter fills the air as you squeal excitedly, running around the front of your car and into his outstretched arms. He pulls you close into him, his black t-shirt hot from the sun has he squeezes you tightly. He smells like motor oil and sweat and you’d be lying if you said it didn’t get you going just a little bit.

“M’guessing it went well?” Joel asks when he pulls back, chuckling as he watches you bounce up and down on your toes.

You’d been working on this presentation for your job for two weeks now, spending hours smoothing out every minor detail, giving mock presentations to Joel and staying up late worrying about how it’ll go.

“Everyone loved it, Joel!” you nearly shout.

“And guess what?” you ask, not giving him any time to respond. “I got promoted!” you squeal.

Joel’s chest is about to burst with pride.

“M’so proud of you, angel. You worked so hard for it.” Joel tells you, his voice soft and sincere as he holds you against him.

“We need to get in the shower,” Joel says, turning away from you to lower the hood of his truck. “I’m taking you out.”

—-----------

You sit on the edge of the bed with your towel wrapped around your waist, waiting patiently for Joel to return from the closet. It's no surprise when he returns with a bundle of black fabric – in his hands is his favorite thing you own: the lacey black 3 piece set and the thigh high stockings to match.

He has a wide smile, his eyes sparkling with affection as he looks at you. With a soft smile in return, you drop your towel allowing it to pool on the bed around you as you expose yourself completely for him.

“You’re so pretty, baby”

Your ears perk up at the slight strain in his voice. You look down and grin, the outline of his half-hard cock clear as day under his black boxer briefs.

“We’re never gonna make it to the restaurant” you laugh and move to stand up for him, despite wishing he would just give in right now and fuck you until you couldn’t see straight.

But he just shakes his head with a chuckle as he takes your place, sitting on the edge of the bed with you standing between his knees.

“Yes we will, angel. And we’ll play when we get back, give you whatever you want…if you’re good” Joel promises, easily reading your mind.

You huff dramatically as he picks out the garter belt from the pile and holds it up to you. He doesn’t say anything, just braces himself when you reach out and grip his shoulder for balance as you lift up one leg.

He bends over, holding the belt open so that you can step with one foot and then the other. He then straightens back up, pulling the fabric up your legs as he does so. Heat pools in your tummy when you look down at him and see his brows knitted together in serious concentration as he dresses you.

He does this all the time. The routine is committed to muscle memory at this point.

It’s not that he cares about what you wear, he couldn’t give two shits as long as you’re comfortable. But the power in deciding what you’re going to wear underneath, or if you’re going to wear anything at all, gives him a rush. And he’s positively obsessed with being the one to dress you up in it, says it’s like “wrapping his own present that he gets to rip open later”.

Goosebumps erupt all over your skin under his warm fingers. You feel so beautiful in these moments, with Joel so focused on your body inches away from his face, his eyes wide and his cock hard just at the mere sight of your exposed skin and the excitement of seeing you in whatever he picks out for you.

He settles the belt around your waist, making sure all the edges are untucked and lying flat before reaching for the thong and repeating the process.

“So fucking, pretty” Joel mumbles as he smooths the lace over your hips, adjusting the elastic so it stretches perfectly over your skin. Then he’s spinning you around so until you’re facing the other away, your ass on full display for him. He can’t help but press a kiss to your cheek before straightening out the back of your thong, his mouth watering at the sight of the thin strip of fabric disappearing in between your cheeks.

Mindlessly, he reaches around to your front and slips his hand between your thighs. The tips of his fingers just barely brush over the lace of your thong but he can feel the heat of your swollen pussy underneath.

He sighs and wraps his other arm around your waist and pulls you back into him until his cheek is squished against your lower back, his scruff scratching lightly against your sensitive skin. His fingers keep dancing over you with minimal pressure behind his touch.

“Joel,” you whimper quietly, already getting all worked up from his minimal teasing. He just shushes you and presses another warm kiss to the back of your hip. After a couple more seconds of light brushes he slips his middle finger into the side of your thong to find your entrance and immediately sinks it inside of you.

You yelp in surprise, and reflexively try to take a step away from him, but he’s got you tight in his grip.

“Just wanna feel you, baby” Joel mumbles against your skin, his beard tickling you and making the muscles in your lower back twitch. He closes his eyes, fully focused on feeling your wet walls flutter gently around his finger. His brow furrows and his mouth drops open slightly when he hears your quiet whimper, the sweet sound going straight to his already painfully hard cock.

He doesn’t even mean to tease you most of the time. Sure, he loves seeing you get all worked up just from a few gentle touches and he adores watching you fall apart underneath him, collapsing into a begging mess for him before he’s even really done anything. But most of the time it’s a genuine need to touch you. It’s like he needs to have physical contact with your body at all times, serving as a reminder that you’re real, you’re here and you’re all his.

He slides his finger out a few seconds later, much to your disappointment. But before you can complain, he spins you back around and stares you in the eyes as brings his finger up in front of you and gently pushes it between your parted lips. You allow him without any hesitation, and he watches you in awe as you lick and suck his finger clean of your arousal, his jaw slack and eyes dark and wide.

“Ain’t it sweet, angel?” Joel asks, breathless with amusement and lust.

You nod and he grins before slowly sliding his finger out of your mouth.

“S’a good girl, baby” Joel comments as he reaches for one of the thigh high stockings. His praise wraps around your heart and melts into your veins, just his simple words making you feel warm and floaty.

You watch him as he bunches up the stocking at the foot, holding it open for you to step in before pulling it up your leg. He smooths out the lace edge and makes sure that it’s even all around your thigh before he fastens the clips of the garter belt to the top of the stocking. He does the same thing with your other leg before turning you around again and fastening the clips in the back.

Joel turns you around so you’re facing him again and then presses a kiss to the top of each thigh.

“Fuckin’ perfect” he sighs as he leans back and admires his work.

You blush under his gaze, his eyes burning holes in your skin as he stares hungrily. He stands up after a few moments and reaches for the matching bralette, helping you slip it over your shoulders before fastening the clasps in the back.

He looks down at you and tries to resist the urge to touch you again but he can’t keep himself away. And the small moan you let out when he brings both his thumbs up to brush over your nipples through the lace has him nearly giving in right then and there.

You look up at him with pleading eyes, silently telling him that you’re not going to be good for much longer if he keeps this up. He stares back at you and thinks about pushing you, letting you act like a bad girl before fucking some sense into you. But he decides he wants to show you off first.

“Go get dressed, baby” Joel instructs gently with a smile. “Pick something nice for me.”

—

You decide on a black dress, one that clings to all the right places while just barely concealing the tops of your stockings and the clips holding them in place. You finish getting ready in the bathroom, and when you walk back out to the bedroom, you nearly collapse at the sight in front of you.

Joel is standing in front of the floor-length mirror with his back turned to you. He’s wearing a simple outfit: black trousers with a black button down to match. The top two buttons of his shirt are undone and your mouth waters at the exposed skin of his thick neck and broad chest.

It’s almost unfair how good he looks with his hair pushed back just slightly, the damp locks just starting to curl into their usual pattern as they air dry. Your heart races at the thought of tangling your fingers into the ones laying at the nape of his neck. His eyes meet yours in the mirror and he smirks as he finishes rolling up his sleeves until they rest perfectly at his elbows.

He then reaches for his rings – the ones you got for him as part of his birthday present earlier this year, the small gold bands that you insisted would look good on him – and picks them up from where they’re sitting on the dresser. And clearly you were right because when he turns to face you, you almost moan out loud watching him slide a ring down one pinky and then the other. He crosses the room towards you, your knees trembling as he shamelessly rakes his eyes up and down your figure.

“Stunning” Joel whispers, shaking his head slightly in disbelief. His hands easily find your hips and he gently turns you around so you’re facing the mirror, your back pressed into his warm, broad chest.

“I love you, angel. And I’m so fuckin’ proud of you, you know that right?” Joel asks as he wraps both arms around your waist and hooks his chin over your shoulder.

“Yes, Joel, I know. I love you too” you giggle, easily flustered at his praise.

“M’serious, baby. So proud of how hard you work, how dedicated you are” Joel starts, moving to nuzzle his face against your neck. “How smart you are” Joel continues, his lips brushing delicately over your sensitive skin. You melt so easily underneath him, relaxing into the soft glide of his warm palms up and down your sides as he whispers sweet words of praise into your neck.

“And I bet you looked fuckin’ sexy doing it too” Joel growls, his hands tightening on your hip. You let out a mixture between a sniffle and laugh and then feel Joel’s lips curve into a smile against your neck. He presses a kiss behind your ear and straightens back up and turns you around to face him.

Joel’s heart turns to liquid when you look up at him through watery lashes with a wide smile. He smiles down at you and brings a hand up to wipe away your tears with the pad of his thumb before placing a sweet kiss on your forehead.

“Now let’s get goin’. I think my good girl deserves to be spoiled.”

—

Joel was back to teasing you as soon got in his truck and continued to do so the whole ride to the restaurant. He kept one hand on the wheel, using the other to slide up and down your thigh, occasionally fiddling with your garter straps or just brushing the lace edge of your thong with his fingertips.

And now you’re seated at a table in a dark corner of the dimly lit restaurant, and you can barely think straight. Joel had spoiled you with the most expensive champagne, far more appetizers than two people could possibly eat and a main course of delectable pasta on a plate bigger than your head. And of course, he looked devilishly handsome the whole night, and he knows it too, smirking and looking at you like he’s about to pounce across the table and devour you. Now you sat there with a full belly, but you were still hungry for revenge.

“What’d your coworkers say? When they saw you got promoted” Joel asks as he pours you both another glass of champagne. You furrow your brows at his question, so far away from even thinking of that whole situation at work and so turned on that you almost completely forgot about the reason why you’re even here right now.

You look up at his face, forcing yourself to peel your eyes away from the muscles bulging underneath his shirt as he sets the bottle back down. He has that knowing look in his eyes when you find them, his signature smirk thinly veiled with a sweet smile.

Without even trying to answer his question, you slide down slightly in your chair. He watches curiously as you shift in your seat for a few seconds. Just as he opens his mouth to ask you what you’re doing, your warm foot presses against the crotch of his pants.

He freezes in place. His hand visibly tightens around the stem of his champagne glass, and you can see the muscles in his jaw twitching. You fully expect him to push your foot back to the ground, but he doesn’t. Instead, he just leans back in his chair and spreads his knees giving you more room to work. He tilts his head and stares at you, a smirk creeping up on his lips when he sees the devious twinkle in your eye.

You look back with a smirk to match and experimentally wiggle your toes against him. Your heart pounds in your chest when he narrows his eyes at you and slowly moves his hand beneath the tablecloth. You stop wiggling your toes when he wraps his hand around your ankle, the heat radiating from his palm to your skin like a hot iron through the thin material of your stocking.

“Think about it, angel” he warns quietly. There’s a brief pause, where you pretend to weigh the risks and rewards, trying to decide whether to be good or bad. But your mind was made up before you even left the house.

After a few seconds, you smirk back at him and press the ball of your stockinged foot against him. Joel chuckles and leans back in his chair again, watching you amusedly. He doesn't move, barely even flinches when you press a little harder against him and it’s infuriating. It's completely unfair how he’s able to literally bring you to your knees with a single touch but remains completely composed when you touch him.

But what you don’t see is his heart hammering in his chest or the sweat starting to prickle the back of his neck. Truthfully, he had been just as turned on as you this whole time. Actually, he could feel the heat stirring the second that you told him about your promotion.

He was barely able to hold back when he was picking out your lingerie for the night. He had to take a break in the closet, leaning against the dresser as he took a couple of deep breaths to try and calm himself down.

And when he started dressing you, he could’ve come right there in his boxers at the sight of the garter belt sliding up your waist. Then the ride over here, the smell of your perfume mixing perfectly with his cologne in the cab of his truck, his head going fuzzy at the scent that seeped into the fabric of his seats, a reminder of you that’ll stick around for a few days.

And now with your foot covered in the delicate mesh of the stockings that he dressed you in pressing deliciously against his aching cock, he’s rapidly losing his self-control.

But Joel is just as stubborn as you, not willing to give in so easily.

So, he bites his tongue and suppresses any noise and tenses his muscles trying not to flinch. Because seeing you get frustrated like this was just turning him on even more. He’s about to say something but you see the waiter coming up behind him and immediately move your foot back to the floor and sit up straight.

Joel exhales heavily, releasing all the tension he was holding. He doesn’t even hear what the waiter says, too busy admiring the flustered look on your face and the slight shake in your voice as you talk to the waiter.

The waiter leaves after a few moments and you face Joel again with a mix between a pout and a glare.

“What was the plan there?” Joel asks, cocking his head to the side in mock curiosity while he secretly prays that his voice doesn’t crack.

You don’t respond, just keep glaring at him as you shove your foot back into the shoe.

“You were being so good, what happened?” Joel presses, each word drenched with sarcastic concern. He watches delightedly as you huff and cross your arms over your chest.

“S’okay, baby” Joel says, his voice dropping half an octave. Your stomach flutters with excitement.

This is exactly how Joel starts off every proposition and you can’t wait to see what he wants you to do next.

Joel pauses and looks at you with an evil glint in his eye. You should’ve seen this coming from miles away. But it still slaps you in the face when he says it.

“I want you to slip a hand under that pretty dress and touch yourself. Right here, right now.” Joel says so quietly that you barely hear him.

Your breath gets caught around the lump in your throat and Joel just smiles at you.

“Go on, baby. Since you’re so needy and set on bein’ bad” Joel encourages after a few seconds of you not moving. “Or we can get the paddle out when we get home?”

The threat of paddle was more than enough.

You glance around to see if anyone can see you like this. No one was sitting near you though, the booth you’re in provides a decent amount of privacy and all direct lines of sight to you are clear. With a gulp and shift down in your seat again and your pussy throbs, pathetically turned on as you slide your hand under the tablecloth and up your dress. You move slowly to slide two fingers into the side of your thong, just like Joel did an hour earlier.

It’s no shock how wet you are, the lace of your thong absolutely soaked, your whole cunt swollen and slick with it. Your eyes flit up to Joel’s and he gives you a small, encouraging nod.

“You’re soaked for me, aren’t you angel?” Joel asks. His voice is so calm and steady that you almost stop and get up to walk over to his side of the table and strangle him. You’re so turned on you can barely breathe, and you’re pissed at him for it. It’s maddening how he has you so needy and desperate for him that you’re willing to touch yourself in publicwhile he just watches.

You give into your temptations easily, working quickly to soothe the aching need that spreads across every single inch of your skin. You glance around again, making sure no one is looking before you ease your middle finger into your dripping entrance, your eyelashes fluttering a bit as you curl your fingers and press up against your g-spot.

Joel’s head is swimming as he watches you finger yourself right there in front of him in this restaurant. Any moment someone will pinch him and tell him to wake the fuck up because there’s no way in hell that this actually happening.

His head is foggy, turned on just as much as you are. His cock strains in his pants, tingles rushing down his spine as he stares at you, biting your lip, your eyes barely open and your eyebrows drawing together as you try to hold back soft moans.

He wants more.

“Faster.”

You snap your eyes open and look at him as if to ask if you heard him correctly. The look he gives you tells you that you absolutely did.

Well, you’re not gonna say no to that.

Your teeth sink deeper into your lip as you heed his orders and start pumping your finger faster. You’re painfully aware of any sounds you make, whether it’s a moan clawing its way up your throat or the slick sounds of your finger gliding through your folds, you try your best to keep it down.

Joel of course isn’t any help.

“Don’t be too loud, baby.” Joel whispers before taking a large swig of champagne. “Wouldn’t want ya to embarrass yourself”

You shoot daggers at him over the dinner table, but you don’t slow down. And now he’s stumped because does he punish you for being bad, playing footsies under the table with him and fingering yourself in public or should he praise you for being a good girl and listening to him.

“Baby,” Joel starts, his voice tight in his throat. “Show me, I want to see.”

To his surprise, you obey easily enough and slide your finger out from under your dress. You bring your hand out from under the tablecloth to present to Joel. His adam’s apple bob in his throat, swallowing thickly at the sight of your middle finger absolutely coated in your wetness, some of it glistening on your palm as well. He nearly loses it when you spread your fingers apart, thin strings of your arousal stretching between your digits.

“Fuck” Joel hisses. There’s a tingle of delight in your stomach as you watch him shift in his chair, finally starting to visibly crack.

He doesn’t say anything else, just reaches into the inner pocket of his jacket to grab his wallet. He hastily pulls out more than enough cash and nearly slams it on the table before standing up.

“C’mon” Joel commands firmly, extending his hand out to you. You blink at him, not moving a muscle otherwise. You don’t know why, something innate inside you when you’re around him, but even when you're inches away from an orgasm you still find room to be bratty.

“And what if I wanted dessert?”

Joel’s jaw clenches as he grinds his teeth together, the tendons in his neck pressing against his skin and you have to bite the inside of your cheek to stop the smirk forming on your face

“Angel,” Joel huffs. “Get up right now and I’ll give you anything you want.”

That’s all it takes. Joel shakes his head when you immediately grab his hand and pull yourself to stand up.

“Such a fuckin’ brat” Joel mumbles as he wraps an arm around you, pulling you into his side. He practically drags you out of the restaurant, his grip tight on your waist and your heels clicking on the asphalt as you trot next to him to keep up with his long strides as he speeds back to the truck.

Ever the gentleman, he opens the passenger door for you, keeping his eyes glued to your body as you climb inside. With you safely inside, he slams the door shut, the sound of your heavy breathing fills the otherwise silent cab of the truck as you watch him walk over to the driver’s side.

You wait a few moments to see if he’ll say anything, but he just stares straight ahead, the muscles in his jaw flexing subtly like he’s chewing over what he’s going to say next as he shoves the key into the ignition.

He backs out of the parking spot and leaves the parking lot without saying a single word. Meanwhile, you’re a mess sitting next to him,

You manage to keep your mouth shut for one whole minute.

“I was just following your instructions” you mumble, crossing your arms over your chest with an exaggerated pout. His jaw shifts to the side but he doesn’t say anything. Doesn’t even look at you.

You sigh dramatically and glance sideways at him to see if he’s looking. But he keeps staring straight ahead. There’s a small part of you that realizes that this is probably all part of his grand plan to drive you up the wall, work you up until you can’t take it anymore. But there’s a much larger part of you that desperately wants his attention.

“And isn’t this my treat anyway? Shouldn’t I be getting what I want?” you press, dipping into dangerous territory just to try and get a reaction out of him.

Still nothing.

The thought of slipping your hand under your dress again crosses your mind, but his earlier threat of the paddle quickly extinguishes it.

All you can do is sit there with a pout etched into your face and ride the rest of the home in silence.

You’re about to explode when he pulls into the driveway. He slides out of his seat and strides over to your side and opens the door. The fire in his eyes burns fiercely as you take your sweet time climbing out. He slams the door shut behind you as soon as you’re out and turns on his heel and quickly makes his way to the door. You groan and actually stamp your foot in frustration. It’s just not fair.

You stomp towards the door, arms still crossed over your chest.

“You said you’d give me anything I want” you call after him, recalling his words from earlier as you make your way inside.

You barely make it through the door before he’s pushing you against it, using his whole body to keep you pinned in place. Your breath catches in your throat and your knees weaken instantly, all of your resolve immediately crumbling around your feet.

He has one hand on your waist while he braces himself with the other one on the wall next to your head. His face is inches from yours and you can smell the sweet champagne on his breath and the cologne on his skin. His eyes flit from yours to your lips, his pupils blown so wide that there’s just a sliver of brown around them

“I said if you were good” he hisses, his voice dangerously low. “What you pulled back there? That was bad, baby. Real bad.”

“You’re the one who told me to finger my-”

Joel’s hand flies from your waist to your throat, his broad palm pressing against your windpipe while he squeezes either side of your neck with his thumb and fingers. Heat surges down your spine and settles in your lower abdomen, your aching sex throbbing pathetically in response.

“Don’t you try to fuckin’ spin this on me, sweetheart” Joel snarls.

Maybe he meant to strike fear in you, maybe try to teach you a lesson. But it’s exactly what you want. Joel knows it too – you can tell by the slight smirk that tugs at the corner of his lips in response to your small, breathless gasp.

“Was just trying to be nice to you” he starts, his voice so low at the point you doubt you’d be able to hear him from any further away. “Try to take you out to a nice restaurant to celebrate and that’s how you repay me? Playin’ with me like that under the table and then actin’ like a spoiled brat all the way home?”

You both know he’s playing up his part. These were all minor infractions at best. Both of you knew that. You had been in this position for much, much worse behavior. But Joel isn’t dumb, and he’s well aware of what you want - to be tossed around a little, roughened up and broken down until you’re a squirming mess. And who is he to deny you of that?

You chew on your lip before muttering a small “M’sorry daddy��

Joel’s eyes narrow even more, the hand on your throat tightening slightly as your carefully chosen words have the exact intended effects on him.

“No, you ain’t” Joel growls. “But you will be. Get on your fuckin’ knees.”

He drops the hand from your throat and takes a step back. You exhale the breath you were holding, and you stare at him as his hands fall to his belt. Just the thought of having him in your mouth has you nearly drooling.

But you’re not done yet.

“No” you say plainly, crossing your arms over your chest once again.

Joel’s hands freeze on his belt, his eyes burning holes into you as you stare right back, not moving an inch from where you’re standing.

He raises one eyebrow slightly as if to say I hope I didn’t hear what I just heard but you remain silent and motionless. After a few long moments of complete silence, Joel chuckles softly, his hands falling to his sides in defeat. He gives you one more look and then shakes his head before turning around and heading towards the bedroom.

You’re about to call after him, ask him where he’s going, but his earlier threat of the paddle floats through your mind once again. That has you panicking nearly instantly.

You watch in disbelief as he disappears up the stairs. Your legs feel as though they’re stuck in wet concrete, and it takes a few seconds to coordinate your mind and body to get you to move. You scamper after him, a cold sweat tingling on the back of your neck as you head towards the bedroom.

He’s sitting on the edge of the bed when you walk in, in the middle of untying his shoes. You stand in front of him, arms behind your back and patiently wait for him to toe his shoes off.

He kicks them to the side then looks up at you with a heavy sigh, like your behavior is causing him physical pain. You offer him a meek smile as he rests his palms behind him on the mattress and leans back, his eyes raking over your body as he does so.

He doesn’t say anything, which you take as an invitation.

You move to climb into his lap. He doesn’t reprimand you, but he doesn’t move to hold you either.

You sit on your knees, your legs straddling his. You can feel him through his pants and your soaked panties, still hard as diamonds. That’s a good sign at least.

“M’sorry, daddy” you say again, much more sincerely this time. You bring your hands up to fiddle with the collar of his shirt, avoiding his eyes as you wait for a response that never comes.

“Just wanted to play” you confess quietly. Joel still doesn't say anything, but his eyes follow your hands as you start toying with the buttons of his shirt.

“And you just looked so handsome tonight” you continue, undoing the first button. You wait again. Still no response.

“Thank you for taking me out” you say as you undo the next button.

“And for dressing me up”

Another button.

“Making me feel so beautiful”

And another.

You undo the last button then push away both sides so that his whole torso is on display for you. You stare for a second, fixated on the steady rise and fall of his broad chest, the soft curve of his tummy, and the trail of hair disappearing under the waistband of his pants.

He remains silent still as you place your hands on his abdomen and slowly slide them up to his shoulders before crossing your arms behind his neck. Finally, you drag your eyes up and look at him through your lashes. His gaze is soft and much warmer than you were expecting.

“Promise I’ll be good.” you say, barely above a whisper.

He gives you a half smile and brings a hand up to cup your cheek, his thumb rubbing across your bottom lip.

“You want daddy to make you feel good? Want me to fuck you til you fuckin’ stupid” Joel asks, tilting his head to the side acting like he doesn’t know the answer.

You nod vigorously and poke your tongue out to lick at the tip of his thumb, just for good measure.

“Thought so” Joel says as he pushes his thumb past your lips. You suck on it eagerly and let him press down on your tongue, your clit twitching with desperate need.

“Then why don’t you show daddy how sorry you are, and I might reconsider gettin’ the paddle out.”

You immediately pull off his thumb and sink to your knees without any further instruction. You reach for his belt, deft fingers unbuckling the belt that you’ve undone so many times before, his button and zipper following soon after.

He stops you there and moves to stand up. You sit back on your knees with your hands on your thighs and watch as he quickly shucks off his shirt, tossing it somewhere behind him. You chew on your lip as he pulls down the waistband of his pants and boxers, his cock bobbing heavily as he steps out of them.

Your completely transfixed by it, the veins running along the length, the redden head and the drops of precum leaking from the slit. You don’t even realize you’re staring until he slides a finger under your chin, tilting your head up to look at him.

“Turn around” he instructs simply.

You have no reason to disobey at this point, so you do as you’re told, turning in the small space between Joel’s leg and the edge of the bed. He takes another step forward, backing you up into the side of the mattress.

“S’this what you wanted, baby?” he coos as he wraps a hand around himself.

“Yes, daddy. Always want it” you respond. You look up at him through your lashes, batting them for added effect.

“Yeah, I know you do” he rasps, taking another small step forward. He rests the head of his cock on your bottom lip, smearing precum. You dart your tongue out to lick it up.

He drags the tip of his cock from your lips to your cheek, smearing more precum on your skin and giving you a few light smacks for good measure.

It’s degrading, and should be humiliating, but it just makes your head spin, the fire in your stomach rapidly growing as you open your mouth for him, giving him silent permission to use you however he pleases.

He groans softly as he pushes past your lips, sinking into the wet heat of your mouth. He’s only halfway in when you gag around him, tears already pricking at your waterline.

“Oh, you know you can take it deeper than that, angel”

He places both hands on the back of your head, gently forcing you down the rest of his length. You let him, focusing on breathing through your nose as rolls his hips forward until he’s buried in your throat. You gag again once he’s all the way in, but he keeps your head in place, holding you there for a few more seconds, groaning as your throat convulses around him

“Yeah, that’s it, baby. Got that throat fuckin’ trained”

He pulls out, allows you to take a gulp of air before he’s shoving back in again. His hips quickly settle into a steady rhythm, his cock nudging the back of your throat with every thrust. You brace yourself with one hand on his thigh and you can feel the muscles working under your palm.

“Spoiled little brat just needed daddy to fuck her throat, huh?”

You hum around him in response, reveling in the feeling of his cock twitching against your tongue. He continues to fuck your face, completely unconcerned with the tears rolling down your cheeks and the spit leaking out of the corners of your mouth. He moves one hand from your head to your throat, his palm splaying across your windpipe. He tightens his grip just slightly, pushing against the bulge of his head buried deep in your throat.

“Fuck, baby,” he groans, thrusting in all the way and staying there. “Love feelin’ myself in that tight little throat”

The fire in your tummy burns with blinding heat at his praise. A dull ache starts to settle in your jaw as salvia slides down your chin and neck, more hot tears spilling over your lash line as you squeeze your eyes shut and try your best not to gag.

“Take it so well” Joel pants as he starts to rock his hips again. “Fuckin’ made to take my cock.”

The lack of air already has you feeling dizzy, and his words are only adding to the feeling. He’s not wrong –with him fucking your face like this, a strong hand on your head and the other wrapped firmly around your throat, it feels like your sole purpose in life is to please him, to be a toy he can use to make himself feel good. And you fucking love it.

After one more strong thrust, he pulls out of your mouth completely. His cock is dripping with your saliva, a string of it connecting his head to your swollen lips.

“Look at you” Joel coos. You look up at him through wet lashes.

“Bein’ so good for me.”

He moves his hand on your throat to your cheek, cupping your jaw as he wipes some of the tears away with his thumb. He then rubs it over your wet, glossy lips, and you already know what he wants next.

“Open” he commands gently, his thumb tugging down on your bottom lip.

You obey immediately, your jaw hanging open and a smile pulls at the corner of your lips. You watch hungrily as he gathers the salvia in his mouth before he bends down slightly. He lets it drip into your awaiting mouth and you hum happily as the liquid hits your tongue.

“Good fuckin’ girl” he rasps before spitting again, this time with more force. A small moan finds its way out of you as you keep your mouth open and let the warm liquid pool on your tongue until he gives you further directions.

“Swallow it.”

You do so happily, and he hums in approval before standing up straight again. He grabs his cock and guides it to your lips again. He allows you to take one deep breath before he’s pushing in again, his fingers now digging into your jaw, his other hand back on your head as he guides your movements.

“Such a slut for it, aren’t ya?”

You nod the best you can with his cock filling your mouth. He holds you steady, giving a few well-measured thrusts down your throat before pulling out again, leaving you coughing mess below him. He looks at you lovingly as you gasp and try to catch your breath, your lips cherry red, matching the color of the rims of your eyes.

“Doin’ okay?” he asks, voice soft and gentle.

You nod again and give him a dazed smile before wiping your mouth with the back of your hand.

“Good girl. Now stand up.”

Joel reaches out to hold your arm as you pull yourself to stand on weak legs, your knees tight and sore from kneeling on the floor. But you couldn’t care less.

He uses both hands to hike up the hem of your dress, making quick work of lifting it up and over your head. He quickly discards it to a forgotten corner of the room before planting a wide, calloused palm square on your chest and pushing you down onto the mattress.

You land on flat on your back against plush mattress, your legs dangling off the edge. Joel reaches for a pillow, and you lift your head so he can slide it underneath. Your skin buzzes as you watch him take his place, standing at the edge of the bed between your legs.

“So fucking pretty” Joel mutters as he smooths a hand down your front from the hollow of your throat to the tops of your thighs, leaving goosebumps in his wake. He plucks at one of the black satin garter straps, letting it snap against your skin. It barely stings and you giggle and wiggle your hips in pure excitement.

Your hungry eyes rake down his body before settling on his cock again, shiny from your spit as it bobs heavily between his legs.

He starts working on undoing the clasps of the straps without preamble, letting you know that he’s not in the mood to take things slow, which you appreciate greatly.

He has all four straps undone in a matter of seconds and tugs at the belt. You lift your hips, helping him to slide it down your hips and legs. The speed and carelessness he exerts as he pulls the fabric off your body is a stark contrast from how concentrated he was while dressing you in it just a few hours ago.

With the belt out the way, he cups your pussy in his hand. The heel of his hand presses against your swollen clit through the delicate fabric of your thong, his fingers pressing firmly against the damp spot that’s been there since before you left the house.

You whine, a high-pitched sound from the back of your throat. Joels eyes flick up from between your legs to your face, a wicked smirk curling on his lips.

“Such a needy little pussy” he says darkly, pressing his hand further against your core. You roll your hips up and grind against his hand, chasing after the friction you’ve been craving all evening.

But he immediately removes his hand and gives you firm smack instead. You yelp at the sensation, your clit tingling and pulsing.

“Wanna hear you beg for it.”

He drags his fingertips along on the edges of your panties, his touch featherlight and torturously slow. There’s a small part of you that wants to say no, that wants to argue with him, push him further, just to see what would happen.

But you’re 10 levels above desperate for his touch.

“Please daddy, w-want it so bad”

Joel clicks his tongue and lands another light slap to your clothed pussy. You bite back another yelp and will your hips to stay still.

“You know you can do better than that. Try again, tell daddy exactly what you want”

You squeeze your eyes shut, well beyond frustrated at this point. You suck in a deep, steadying breath and exhale is slowly before opening your eyes again to meet his gaze. His eyes are dark, and his jaw is tight as he looks back at you.

“Want you to fuck me, want you so deep inside me that I can barely breathe, want you to be rough with me, make sure I can feel it for days, please daddy please. I promise I’ll be good, just – please I ne-”

You cut yourself off when Joel digs his fingers into the lace of your thong, the sound of tearing fabric hitting your ears as he rips it off of you.

“Joel!” you shout, sitting up on your elbows to look at him.

He doesn't say anything, just grabs your hips and pulls you closer to the edge of the bed. But you’re still stuck on the fact that he just casually ripped off your panties like that.

“Thought those were your favorite pair” you mumble, looking at the discarded fabric sitting on the bed.

“Shut up” Joel grunts as he wraps a hand around the base of his cock, steadying himself and lining up at your dripping entrance. “I’ll buy you more.”

You’re about to say something back, but he slides in before as soon as you open your mouth, effectively taking your breath away.

The stretch of his thick cock inside you as he sinks in all the way in one smooth motion is enough to wipe your brain clean.

He stays still once he’s inside, his tip kissing your cervix. He curses under his breath as your walls spasm around him, already milking him for all that he’s worth.

“Always so fuckin’ tight for me. Perfect little pussy.”

You let him maneuver you into position, one of his hands cupping the back of your knee, lifting your leg up to rest on his shoulder, both of you sighing as the angle pushes him just a bit deeper. He brings your other leg up but keeps it pinned to the bed with a strong hand on your thigh, leaving you spread open just for him.

Without warning, he draws his hips back, sliding nearly all the way out before slamming back in.

You cry out, your hands scrambling for purchase on the duvet. You’ve taken him countless times before. But he’s big. And no matter how wet or turned on you are, without opening you up first on his fingers, your walls are aching and tingling as he forces your body to mold to his.

And it’s exactly what you asked for.

He grinds his pelvis against your clit, his cock bumping into a spot that’s impossibly deep inside of you. You jolt at the sensation and reflexively try to scoot up the bed, your already overwhelmed body trying to get away from the intense feeling.

“Oh, don’t run from it now” Joel growls, grabbing one of your hips and forcing you back down on his cock. “Begged for it all night, so I’m gonna fuckin’ give it to ya”

“S-so much daddy, you’re so– oh fuck. You’re so fucking big” You whimper pathetically, your hands gripping the duvet so tight that your nails are digging into your palms even through the barrier of the fabric.

“I know it’s a lot, angel. But you can take it,” Joel pants. “Can’t you?”

You nod lazily against the pillow as he pulls out again.

“What’s your safeword” he asks, the head of his cock resting just a few inches inside of you, providing you with enough relief to answer.

“Red” you whine.

“Good girl. Do you wanna use it?”

You immediately shake your head

“No.”

“That’s my girl” Joel growls before slamming back in again, knocking the air straight out of your lungs. Your back arches with the feeling as he quickly builds up his pace.

He fucks into you like it’s his last day on earth, fast and rough, just like you begged for. Just like he knows you need. Your whole body feels electrified while moans tumble freely past your lips, your eyes rolling back into your head.

With your eyes closed, you don’t see it, but you do feel Joel’s lips pressing against your ankle that’s resting on his shoulder, lips warm and wet through the sheer fabric of the stocking that he never took off.

“Little pussy is takin’ me so well, angel” Joel mumbles against your ankle “Feel so good wrapped around me, squeezing me like that”

He starts a trail of kisses from your ankle to your knee, his hips not faltering in pace, not even once. The last of the stinging ache melts away as your walls stretch to fully accommodate him. He has an iron grip on your ankle, and his fingers on his other hand dig into the meat of your thigh, creating small purple marks under the smooth skin. The hot coil in your stomach is starting to tighten as you moan incessantly. And of course, Joel notices.

“Get those tits out, angel.”

You whimper underneath him and try your best to follow his instructions. Your arms feel like cinder blocks as you unclench your fists from the duvet and move your hands to your chest. You grab the cups of your bralette and tug them down, letting your breast spill out over the tops.

Joel gives you a few words of praise that you can’t fully process. You already feel delirious, his cock quickly turning you into a useless, needy puddle underneath him.

“Play with ‘em for me.”

You do as your told and cup your breasts, one in each hand before gently tweaking your nipples with your thumb and forefinger. Joel gives you more indistinguishable praise as you let your eyes slip closed again, completely surrendering to the pleasure coursing through your veins.

The hand that Joel has wrapped around your ankle slides down to the back of your thigh, pushing on your leg and forcing your knee into your chest and sending his cock even deeper.

“Ohhh, daddy shit fuckfuckfuckk” you whine as the head of his cock nudges against the spot that only he has ever found over and over again, the same spot he finds every single time.

“There ya go” he whispers as you start to squirm underneath him, your jaw slack and your walls fluttering around him. “You gonna cum, pretty girl? Gonna make a mess on daddy’s cock?”

You nod vigorously but you already know he wants more than that.

“Want–” you try to start, but Joel’s hand landing on your clit steals your breath, a loud moan coming out instead.

“C’mon, baby. Keep goin” Joel urges breathlessly, two of his fingers rubbing tight circles on your clit. “Sound so pretty when you beg. Look at me while you do it.”

You groan and open your eyes again to meet his gaze. His chest is heaving with every breath, muscles flexing deliciously as he fucks you with everything that he has, pounding you further and further into the mattress.

“Please let me cum daddy, M’so close –ah oh my god please let me cum please please please let me.”

“You can cum, angel. Keep those eyes on me and show me how pretty you look when you cum on this cock”

It’s only a few more seconds of him pummeling into you and his fingers drawing expert circles on your clit to send you over the edge.

You lock eyes with him and let out a long, loud moan as your orgasm starts to rip through you, your whole body trembling with pure, white hot bliss. He fucks you through it, on the heels of his own release as you shake underneath him, your warm, wet walls rhythmically clenching and fluttering so perfectly around him.

“Gonna make me cum, honey” Joel grits out, his pace getting more and more uneven.

“Inside” you manage to whine, still riding out the last of your orgasm.

“Yeah, baby, I know. Gonna fill you up so good”

One, two, three more thrusts until you feel his cock pulsing as he starts to spill his load deep inside of you with a loud groan from somewhere deep in his chest. He keeps fucking you, pushing his spend deeper and deeper inside of you until he he’s too sensitive to continue. He buries himself in you as deep as he can and stills.

After a few moments, Joel straightens your legs out on the mattress then pulls out of you, moving off of you and flopping down flat on his back next to you with a heavy sigh.

Labored breaths are the only sound in the room as you both come down. You whole body feels like jell-o, all thoughts moving slowly through your syrupy head. You can’t help but giggle next to him, feeling positively euphoric after getting your brains fucked out of your skull.

Joel turns his head to look at you.

“What’re you laughin’ at?” he asks, a smile quickly spreading on his face. He rolls onto his side and props his head up on his hand. He wraps his other arm around your waist and pulls you closer to him, despite you being dead weight right now.

You look up at him, eyes hooded with a lazy smile. You try to think of something to say but all you can manage is another giggle, which makes Joel chuckle too.

“You’re such a goose” he says, leaning down to kiss your forehead.

“Thought I was a spoiled little brat?”

Joel rolls his eyes and rests his cheek on his hand again, his smile still glued to his face.

“Those aren’t mutually exclusive.”

“So, I’m a spoiled little bratty goose?”

“Mhmm.”

You grin and scoot closer into him.

“That sounds like a lot to handle”

You squeal when he pinches your hip.

“Tell me about it,” Joel sighs, lying his head down on the mattress and wrapping his body around yours. You smile like an idiot with your face squished against his chest, fully satisfied once again.

Thank god you got that promotion.

Thank you for reading I love all sm!!!

#joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller one shot #joel miller fic #the last of us #tlou fic #joel miller #pedro pascal characters

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velocesainz · 2 months

Note

Hii!

Could you possibly do a Percy Jackson smut with Percy fucking the brat out of reader, his rival? Rough sex with degrading and praise pls and ty 🫶🏼🫶🏼

A/n:This was quite an interesting request for me to write, thank you for the idea! All character have been aged up (19-20)

More than rivalry

Percy jackson masterlist | main masterlist

Summary: Percy gets jealous seeing you (his rival) with another boy and decides to fuck you to make sure you remember that you are his but you end up being too cocky for his liking

Warnings: smut, degradation

Pairing: Percy x daughter of Zeus! Reader

Reader pov:

I was practising my archery skills with some Apollo kids and we were actually having a lot of fun

Over the time I had spent Robert over the past few days perfecting my archery we both really grew close together

He was one of the very few people at camp who were actually friends with me for me and not because I was Zeus’s daughter.

While we were training I clumsily fell over a rock and was about to go crash into the ground but Robert caught me in time.

We stayed in the position for a little bit not knowing what to do.

We looked at each other with soft and gentle eyes, like how friends would rather than people who like each other though it seemed otherwise to most.

It was a sweet moment we both were trying to savour when a bellowing voice split us apart

“Oi thunder witch! What are you doing, let the poor guy out of his misery and do some practising on your own yea?” Yelled the voice that I really didn’t want to hear right now

Percy motherfucking Jackson

“Ocean ass how about you go bother someone else. He’s here with me at his own will for your kind information. Care more about your friends yea?” I retorted

I wanted to leave the arena as fast as possible so I bid Robert goodbye and left for my cabin

Percy pov:

Crisis averted.

I didn’t let Robert and y/n have their moment.

Why the fuck out of all the girls here does Robert have to go for y/n?

He has like a hundred girls dying for him.

Doesn’t he know she’s mine?

I know we seem like enemies but I wish to fuck like every second of the day at this point

She’s just so beautiful and that attitude damn.

I had a plan to get y/n away from every other guy, not just Robert.

Reader pov:

I was sitting in my cabin reading a book when I heard a knock on my door

That’s odd, I thought

Nobody was usually free at this hour in the evening

Everyone was too busy scheming for capture the flag except me of course

I wasn’t allowed to participate along with Percy since we were a tad bit overpowered

I walked over and opened the door and before I could figure out who it was they shoved me against the wall and started kissing me

I pushed the figure away and tried to run but they caught me

“Don’t try to run bitch. You need to be taught a lesson. Now be a good little slut and listen to what I say or the consequences will be severe for you” the figure whispered in my ear.

Then I realised who it was

Percy.

I was feeling cocky today so I decided to tease him a little

“You sure you can be intimidating and dominating seaweed brain? I don’t think you can even satisfy me forget punishing me”I replied with a smirk gracing my features

“Oh you asked for this whore. By the time I’m done with you you will be so dumb for my cock that you won’t even remember your name. Just you wait “ he said in a Husky voice which turned me on more than I would like to admit

He started removing my clothes as fast as he could and I couldn’t help but sneak in a cheeky comment

“Desperate are we?” Boy oh boy was this a bad decision

“I’m going to fuck that cocky attitude right out of you. You really just can’t keep your mouth shut can you whore?” Percy said and threw me in my bed

Undressing himself he got on the bed and made his way towards me like a predator approaching its prey

He moved my panties to the side and roughly shoved his cock inside me without any warning

“A-ah p-p-Percy that hurts sto-“ I was cut off by a slap I received

“Shut the fuck up slut. You were the one who was acting all cocky just a few minutes ago. Bitches like you don’t deserve to be cared for” Percy panted as he continued thrusting in and out

His pace was ungodly. He kept thrusting in and out of me letting my pussy drink up his cock

I felt like I was losing my mind as he hit my g-spot repeatedly completely abusing it

“O-oh fuck your pussy is tight. G-gods I’m going to come. Ah yea just like that” He whispered huskily

“I am going to cum too Percy” I told him

“No no. You don’t get to cum you little slut. You’ve been a really back whore for me. You don’t get to cum today, deal with it yourself” Percy said as he came in me

He got dressed quickly and left leaving me a panting and unsatisfied mess

Goddamit jackson.

A/n: let me know if you guys liked this fic or if you have any feedback! Requests are still on hold unfortunately but they’ll be opened soon. Kissies ✨

#percy jackson x y/n #percy jackson x you #percy jackson smut #percy jackson #percy jackson x reader #percy jackon and the olympians #clarisse la rue x y/n #clarisse la rue x reader #clarisse x reader #clarisse la rue #luke castellan x you #luke castellan smut #luke castellan x reader #leo valdez #leo valdez x reader #leo valdez x y/n #leo valdez x you

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armpirate · 3 months

Text

Better than fiction | Choi San

Bf experience

pairing: Idol!Choi San x fem!reader

w.c.: 4.4k

Warnings: Smut, rough sex, oral sex (female and male receiving), masturbation (female receiving), protected sex, hair pulling, choking, dirty talk, dom!San x sub!reader. (Minors DNI! Refrain from reading if you're not +18, and ignore if you don't like this type of content).

Summary: You never thought what your boyfriend's reaction to you writing fanfic would be like, but you certainly didn't expect him to end up so jealous of himself to end up making your fantases come true

Aprox. time of reading: 19 minutes

MASTERLIST

Your blood stopped running for a few seconds. You could feel the way some parts of your body went numb, only keeping your attention on the live San started not that long ago, and that you decided to hear because his voice just had that calming effect on you. It didn't matter if it was through video call, audio messages, or those lives. You could hear him talking for hours and feel at ease all the time it lasted.

Except that day.

The way he made an understanding sound, followed by a scoff, that reached the deepest side of your brain, had you almost sitting at the edge of your bed, holding your phone with your two hands. The clicking sounds of his keyboard were the only thing that could be heard, while the chat went crazy, trying to distract him from his own curiosity.

There was a thick silence that made you aware of how hard you gulped, moving over the bed, feeling uncomfortable whatever the position it was.

"I see you, guys, are having fun" he teased with a honeyed voice.

That mocking tone, and the chuckle he let out after had you silently screaming, covering your mouth with the palm of your hand.

Even if he didn't know you were part of that small group of people that loved living in delululand, although you were already in your personal fanfic every day with him, you felt exposed, more like you'd never been before. It felt like you were caught doing something wrong, even if San wasn't speaking to you directly.

You didn't know how long you stayed in your bed, laying on your back as you stared at the ceiling. Only thing you were hoping for was that San didn't bring it up the next time you saw each other.

Basically because you were bad at lying, but San was also great at noticing when you lied to him.

You raised your phone to your face after feeling it buzz, biting your lip when you were aware of his name popping up at the top of your screen.

Sannie: Babe, did you watch the live? You didn't comment today...

You could imagine him pouting, with his lips pursed while he gave a lost kitten look to his screen. And he probably would've used his thinner voice if he had said that out loud directly to you.

Usually, you'd always leave a few comments. At first it started because you just liked teasing him, and seeing him getting nervous when your username showed up in the middle of the livestream. But it ended up being something he got used to, to the point of wondering if something happened to you if you didn't do it.

You: I did! But I was busy with work, so I just heard it while doing other things.

Sannie: Oh. Do you want me to go see you tomorrow better, then?

You: Nope, come here! You owe me a lot of cuddles

Sannie: I've only been away for a week...

You: Even a day is too much. Come here when you're done, pleaseeee.

San smiled when he looked at his screen, imagining your squared smile as you tried to convince him to go to your place for cuddles. Not like he needed much to be convinced, just the idea was convincing enough, but it was always cute to see him react like that -mainly because it was something you barely did.

"We're gonna order some food. Do you want anything?" Seonghwa's head peeked through his door.

San shook his head, not even trying to hide his playful smile as he got up from his chair "I'm going to Y/n's, so don't wait for me".

"Who's ever waited for you, any way?" Mingi teased, showing up in the corridor.

"I do" Seonghwa replied, looking back with an obvious expression.

Mingi rolled his eyes "He never leaves the house unless it's to see Y/n. And we know he never sleeps in when he goes to see her".

"Send a text when you get there" Seonghwa asked him, ignoring the boy behind him.

"And tell Y/n we said hi. You're gatekeeping her" Mingi complained, continuing his way to his room.

San simply smiled at that, pleased with the way all the members grew closer to you the longer your relationship went on. It always worried him that his friends and his significant other wouldn't get on well, but with you it was an automatic click.

Could be it was that you had that type of personality that molded into everyone else's easily, finding a bit of your humor and comfort in each one of the members. And while it sometimes made San jealous, deep inside he genuinely appreciated it.

You smiled widely when, after fifteen minutes, San knocked on your door with his arms opening big as soon as you stood in front of him. His arms wrapped around your waist, squeezing you to his body and lifting you a few centimeters in the air before he was moving you back inside, kicking the door with his foot to close it.

"Did you shower?" after digging your nose in his neck, you could recognize the floral scent of his gel, which you loved.

Whenever that smell got into your system, your first reaction was to snuggle to him and hide your face on his chest. It really seemed like he got ready for those cuddles that night.

Not leaving you on the floor, but making you stand on your tiptoes over his feet -only covered with his white socks-, he started walking through the short corridor. "Yup, we had a schedule today. And I didn't want to go around all sweated" he tilted his head. "By the way, the boys say hi".

"It's been a while since I last saw them" you sighed. "Are you gatekeeping them from me?".

San rolled his eyes at that question, confirming that, in fact, you did spend too much time with them all during that year and a half.

"No, I'm gatekeeping you from them" he replied, stealing a peck from you. "Now seriously, we could plan something for the next time you're free" he suggested, stopping in the middle of your living room.

"Sure" you nodded, tapping his biceps so he'd finally let you stand on the floor again. "I'll prepare some snacks, why don't you look for something to watch".

His hands carefully put you back on the floor, while his lips were together as he saw your body disappearing behind the white door to your kitchen. He groaned, slowly taking a seat on the couch, resting his head over the backrest for a few seconds.

When he looked to his left, he could see that small surprise you prepared for him two weeks back, unable to control his thoughts as he remembered the weekend you spent together, barely moving from that corner before he left for the festival.

It was the physical reminiscence of how lucky he was to have you.

Your phone buzzed on the coffee table, having him lifting his head to look at it for a quick second before he went back to the relaxed position.

Until it finally hit him. He forgot his back in the dorm, which meant Seonghwa would be ranting at him for not announcing he arrived well, and for being careless enough to leave the house without the cell.

"Love, can I send a message through your phone? I left mine at the dorm".

"Sure" you mentioned, still places all the gummies and the cookies on a plate. "No, wait-" it was the only thing you were able to say when realization hit you.

Although you ran as fast as you could, it was already too late. Peeking over San's shoulder, you could see that he wasn't in your chats, but scrolling down a really different page. His first idea was to send the text and move on, but the notification at the top caught his attention.

You never hid your fan side. He knew you were part of the fandom as soon as you started dating, even before, so it wasn't anything new for him to hear you using Twitter slang sometimes, and knowing about some things long before he did. But that day there was an app he didn't recognize, with an ask from an anonymous person seemingly freaking out after what happened in the livestream that took place some hours back.

Time to close it all now. San will expose us to the rest of the members and, like that one, several other posts.

"Give it to me" but San moved faster, getting up from the couch to move the phone away from you.

"San x Y/n?" he frowned, scrolling down your page through some of the most recent one-shots you had posted.

He looked over some of the details, smirking when he noticed you chose the pictures where he looked best to top the stories that would come under them.

"For your own sake, stop reading" you asked, finally snitching the phone from his hands and hiding it on your back.

"Since when do you write fanfics?".

"You mean about you, or in general?".

"There's been others?" his eyebrows raised, but you could tell by the way he was smiling that he was just mocking you for your reaction. "Why are you so embarrassed? It's probably cute".

"No, it's not" you assured, scoffing after that confirmation.

"What? You paint me like a douchebag or something? Are they sad stories?" his head tilted to the side, with his smirk slowly dropping at that idea.

"No, they're actually fun for the people that read them" you muttered.

"I won't judge you. Honestly, if this is important for you, I want to know what it is".

Ever since you started dating there was nothing that he liked more than learning things about you, and adding them to his life just to make you happy. If you liked a cake with a certain flavor, he'd always manage to have it for any celebration you two made. If you liked one song in particular, he'd learn it and sign it to you, or add it to his playlist so you'd listen to it when you're together. Every small detail counted for him, and whatever it was you were hiding on your back was no different from all those things.

"They aren't sad stories. Cute neither" you nervously stated.

"Horror stories, then?" he frowned.

You shook his head, handing the phone to him "They're... explicit" you summed up.

San looked confused when he took your phone, clicking over one of the short stories. Seeing the warning in red had him gulping thick "dom!San, choking, spitting, rough sex...", eyeing you up quickly before he looked down at your screen again.

It was weird to read about himself in that context, never thinking he'd end up doing it, and even less because it came from you. When he found out earlier that evening that fans were writing that type of content, he wasn't entirely surprised, but it didn't cross his mind the idea of you being part of that niche. However, there he was, supporting his weight on his lower back -which was laying against the backrest of the thick armchair in front of your couch- while he read through one of the stories.

His heart pumped against his chest, a bit harder with every line he read. Every description, every detail, everything was so realistic yet seemed so unreal at the same time. He could almost touch the sexual tension between the two characters, before the San of the fanfic forced the main character into a rough sloppy kiss that almost made his knees tremble.

He could feel your eyes on him. And the only thing he was hoping for is that it wasn't as evident how much he liked what he was reading, while he hawked when his throat went suddenly dry at the roughness that was represented in the fanfic.

"I can delete it all" you assured him. "I will..."

"Do you like this?" he interrupted you, finally lifting his gaze to yours. "Are you into being treated like that?".

"Well, I don't know" you hesitated, confused by his question. "It's just fiction" you shrugged, stepping towards him.

"No, Y/n. Be honest. Do you think our sex boring?".

Fiction sex was blatantly different from your real sex. On fiction sex you were able to dig on those kinks you didn't know you had, but that had your whole body burning just at the thought of doing them with San. While real sex was just you two, loving each other.

"What? No" you stepped towards him, cupping his face with your hands. "They're just dumb stories I write when I'm bored".

"Or when you're horny" he muttered.

"Look, they're just fantasies, that I didn't even try. I like the idea of them, because I think it'd be hot, but that's it"

"Why didn't you tell me you liked that?"

"Because I don't want you to feel uncomfortable with it".

Despite his looks, San was the most gentle and careful person you had ever met. He'd stop the whole thing if something that he thought would hurt you or bother you happened, and you appreciated that. You loved the way he looked after you in every single aspect of your relationship. That was why you never mentioned the idea of having him spanking you, and even less choking you through sex. It'd be crossing a limit for him, and just like San took care of you when you had sex, you wanted to take care of him.

"So you do want to try it?" he asked, lifting one of his eyebrows.

After licking your lips, and softly pressing them, you ended up nodding shyly, lowering your gaze to your feet.

Something about that story didn't allow him to think straight. Maybe it was the way he could imagine you squirming and twisting with pleasure, or how loud and desperate your moans would sound -when usually they were little whispers you gifted to his ear. Or could be it was the slightest glimpse of jealousy he felt over the San in the fan fiction, who was able to pleasure his girlfriend better than he did.

He didn't give you time to react, holding your wrist before he dragged you to your bedroom. You had no time to process anything that was happening, before he made you turn on your feet and make your lips collide. San was demanding, moving your lips over yours, not giving you any other choice than trying to keep up with his pace as he held your neck with his two hands, slightly letting his fingertips dent on your skin.

A moan burned your throat when his tongue sneakily moved between your lips, meeting yours for a brief second before he was dominating the way they twirled, having your core begging for him in a matter of seconds.

He left you hanging in the middle of a fast breath, turning you around so your back was stuck to his hard chest. His hands traced the curve of your waist, with your knees trembling at the soft touch as his fingers kept moving up, taking with them the thin fabric of your old t-shirt. Once the piece of clothing was gone, his palms covered your exposed breasts, making your back arch almost perfectly.

There was something so strange at being controlled that way, or feeling like you didn't have to worry about anything because San knew perfectly what to do. And you loved it. You could feel the pool in your panties as time went by slowly, and the way your heart raced in your chest when his fingers pinched your nipples before he went back to pressing your tits with his palms.

"Did you ever touch yourself thinking about this, hmm?" his voice sounded unrecognizable. It was harsh and raspy, making its way to your guts and clicking to one part of your brain that almost made you moan the answer.

San didn't know if he wanted to know. He could understand you touching yourself because he was away, but because he wasn't pleasuring you like he should? He couldn't deal with that.

He didn't let you answer. As he saw the way you gulped and took a deep breath to let him know, his hand flew to your covered pussy, sliding his fingers over it until it was completely covered by his palm.

You desperately seeked for his lips, this time starting the sloppy kiss. Trying to keep your balance while standing on your tiptoes, while your head went in circles was suddenly the most difficult task.

Although you knew San had you.

He grinded against you, letting you feel his growing bulge against your ass while his hand slipped inside your panties. He wasn't able to hold back the moan when your wetness coated his fingers as soon as he slid them through your slit, just being able to think of how good his cock would slip in and out of you with barely any effort.

"Can you feel how hard you made me, babe?" the circles on your clit were barely leaving any room for your brain cells to work properly, although you were still able to pick up some of the things he said. "Time for you to do something about it, right?"

Your hips collided against the headboard with every deep thrust he made, making you feel completely trapped between the wall and his body, thinking that probably your pain senses were too fucked by pleasure to be able to feel hurt at the way it kept bouncing against the hard surface.

San enrolled his fingers on your jaw, moving your head up slightly to give your back the perfect curvature, so your pubic bone would come up against the bottom of his cock and giving his thrusts the perfect angle so his tip would end up rubbing against that spot that had you whimpering and grinding against him in a matter of seconds.

"All this time wanting to try this, and you're barely able to take it" he groaned, with a shaky voice due to the power of each one of his movements.

All the times you thought of being in that situation, San was harsh, he was animalistic, just like he was being in that moment. But you didn't count with the extra threat that were his hips. You should've known better than pushing a dancer, mastered in body rolls and hip thrusts, to his limits. He found the best position for him, having you completely caged so his only worry would be pounding in and out of you, concentrating on the killing move of his hips, letting you feel all of him inside of you, but also making your skin clap every time.

You scratched your thighs, having nothing else to your reach as your head was held up "Please" you moaned. You don't know what you were begging for. Pleasure just felt a little bit too much to contain it for any longer, you just wanted it to blow and have it leaving your system.

"Please what?" San forced your body a bit higher, sinking his teeth on your collarbone. "Use full sentences, babe".

"Please, don't stop" you begged, your voice cracked in need.

He wasn't going to stop. And even less after seeing you like that. There was nothing that could make him prouder than seeing you being a mumbling mess for his cock, sure that he was closer to losing himself completely to his most basic instincts just to have you looking like that for the rest of the night.

The echo of the slap made you squirm rather than the itch that his palm left after it, making your pussy instantly clench around him, with your walls closing tight around him as if you didn't want him to leave you empty ever again.

"You take me so fucking good" he hoarsed, circling your swollen clit with two of his fingers.

With his eyes fixed on you the whole time, he was able to tell the exact moment you were going to cum. He saw that spark in your eyes, momentary and fast, but strong enough for him to see it before your eyes went blank with a long moan, that sounded in sync with the way your legs trembled and your body convulsed on his.

He wanted to drink the last drop of your high, moving your neck so your face would be towards him, taking your lips in his with freedom while you blindly followed his moves, weakly sucking on his lower lip.

At that point you could only feel the way San moved on the mattress, dragging your body along with his until the two of you were kneeling in the middle of the bed. Although he tried to let go of that caring side to please you, you could sense it was still there, taking over him for a brief moment as he made you roll on the bed and lie on your back, carefully to not hurt you, and making sure at all times that you were okay.

One of his hands rested on your stomach, caressing the spot between your belly button and your pubes as he waited for you to recover. When you looked up to him, you felt so small... San was big, but that night he felt twice his size. The way he looked at you, brushing his hair back to expose some of the sweat drops that stopped right on his eyebrows, giving you what you had named as his "stage gaze" had your pussy throbbing again.

Your body squirmed when he leaned over, moving his tongue over your clit to steal a whine from you before he sucked on the bundle of nerves.

He swore one day he'd be completely addicted to your taste.

San slipped his full length back again, only warning you with his tip pressing on your entrance before he was stretching you out in that new position. He was completely lost in the way you looked, eyebrows slightly furrowed, lips parted as you weren't able to breath through your nose anymore, and tits bouncing with every thrust he made. Only to go feral when he lowered his eyes a bit more to find his cock covered in your arousal whenever he moved it out, hiding himself in your walls not even a mini second after. Whole shaft was shiny with your juices, with some white thicker cream on the base.

"The mess you made on my cock..." he scoffed, squeezing your flesh. "My girl does love to be treated like a hole meant to be used by me only, hmm?".

At the lack of response from you, other than the way your fists closed on the sheets and some of the whimpers you tried to keep hidden in your mouth by pressing your lips together, San moved his fingers around your throat again. His digits' pressure on your skin tightened with every thrust, giving you one thin line that allowed air to make it to your lungs. His left hand kept you glued to the bed, that squeaked under you a little bit louder as time went by, while his other hand hooked around your knee, keeping it as high and spread as possible.

The eye contact, the grunts, and his cock rubbing deliciously on your walls... All of it was the perfect mix for a ticking bomb in your guts that started a countdown to wipe everything out.

"Are you going to cum again for me?" he teased, recognizing that spark in your eyes again. "Let go, babe. Cum around me".

He combined those words with the twirls the fingers on his right hand were doing on your clit, feeling it throb on his digits before you reached your orgasm with a loud moan, arching your back in a way he thought it would break.

"Come here and make me cum now, love"

You crawled on the mattress to where he was, smirking at him as you took the condom off. He growled over you when your lips wrapped around him, barely giving him any time to get used to the subtle breeze in your room before he was feeling warm again. Your head bombed fast, eager to feel the way his cock twitched against your tongue when you least expected, while your hand matched the movements of your mouth.

San guided the way your head moved, with his fingers grasping on some of the lock of your head to move you a bit faster, while his hips just buckled against your mouth. He just needed one last flick of your tongue on one of his veins, and he was already spilling his seed in your mouth with a deep moan.

You still licked him off for a bit more, cleaning him completely, until there was no trace of everything you had done.

"Spit it here" he hollowed his hand at the height of your lips.

You bit your lower lip, moving your body to be on the same height as he was and confront that confused expression he was giving you.

"I swallowed it" the pride and playfulness in your voice made him smile, and break character almost instantly.

He moved right after you did, placing his hands on your hips while your arms wrapped around his neck.

"Was it better than fiction?" his head tilted as he asked that question.

"It was better than fiction" you admitted, playing with the sweaty locks on his nape. "Did you like it, too?".

San nodded, curving his lips slightly "More than expected, actually".

Before you could smile widely in relief, your boyfriend leaned over to kiss you, gently and caring, moving his lips sweetly over yours to get rid of any drop of his saltiness. "Let's clean ourselves, and let me give you those cuddles you were asking for earlier, alright?".

San helped you move out of bed first, holding your hand carefully so you wouldn't fall, joining in front of you right after. He stopped midway, having you looking at him confused. "Let me tell Seonghwa I arrived well. I forgot to send him the text".

"Go, I'll wait for you in the shower"

As he stepped away from you and turned around, you couldn't help yourself. Your palm smacked against his ass, having him turning at you surprised, giving you an eye smile before he shook his head and made his way to the living room.

It was a good thing he found out about fanfiction after all.

#armpirate #ff #smut #one shot #reader insert #san #choi san #san smut #ateez #choisanxreader #sanxreader #ateez smut #choi san smut #sanxreader scenarios #ateez scenarios #choi san scenarios #soft #idol!au #idol!san

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kitixie · 9 months

Text

Little Girl Gone

Little Girl Gone / T.S. (pt. 1)

part two: here

Synopsis: Having been several years since you’d last seen your favorite gangster family, you return to Small Heath a changed woman with a stronger attitude than you had when you left.

information: this will be a multi part story! idk how many parts exactly, but there will be more!

warnings: none for this chapter!

please leave all comments and reccommendations below! thank you for reading!

“Aye, what does a woman have to do to get a whiskey around here?”, you shouted, rapping your hand on the bar counter.

You were seated at The Garrison, it was your first stop back in town. You had lived in Small Heath most of your early life, but five years ago you were forced to leave due to your fathers death and your mothers general distrust (and dislike) of the Shelby family. Your mother had kicked you out a few days ago, claiming that you were old enough to be married now, and that she wouldn’t stand for you staying in her house if you weren’t going to look for a husband.

“Calm down Lady, I’ll- Holy Shit! Y/N, what are you doin’ back!”, a man's voice rang out, making you and the rest of the bar look in his direction.

Arthur Shelby had always been one of your favorite Shelby siblings, and for good reason. He was loud, funny, and typically a gentleman if you caught him on the right day. You leaned over the bar and wrapped your arms around his neck, nearly bruising him in the process. You had hoped your whole journey here that he would be the first Shelby you saw, and luck had worked out for you this time.

“Arth, I am sure glad to see you! It’s been a long time, aye?”, you spoke, removing your arms from him and sitting back on your barstool.

“Hell, it’s been about, what, five years? You don’t show your face around these parts for five fuckin’ years and then you just come back?”, he said, staring you in the face, with a somewhat more serious look in his eye than you had expected.

‘Yeah, had some family troubles, but I’m back for good now,” you swallowed, “how's all the Shelby’s doin’?”

“Eh, the usual. Tommys about to run himself ragged, Pol acts like she owns us all, I’m workin’ here now, I actually own the place!” he said, spilling out most of that information in one breath.

You took a quick survey of the bar, noticing how the decor and table setup had changed since you’d seen it last. The floor was still the same sticky, slimy feeling though.

“Glad to see you doing well, Arth. Now, please get me a whiskey an i’ll be outta your way!” you spoke, glad to have reunited with Arthur, but not glad to have been out in public this long.

“Ah, ah. If you think I’m letting you get out of here without seein’ Tom, you’re messed in the head!” He joked, but as you watched him move towards the window to the private room, you realized he wasn’t joking.

You had not come prepared to see Thomas. He was the only one who never got a goodbye, even though the rest of them didn’t know they were goodbyes at the time. When you were being forced to leave, you managed to sneak over to Watery Lane and have one last conversation with all the Shelbys before you left, and you never told them you were leaving that night. Thomas had been on business, but got home a few minutes after you left. You had regretted not speaking to him then, but now that regret had turned into a fear after hearing about the man he had become while you were away. You had heard things about Thomas Shelby, and they were not things any girl would like to hear about her long-time crush.

‘Oy, that Tommy Shelby is a real whore’

‘I heard he gets around Small Heath like its a full time job’

‘He pays them ya know? Every girl he fucks gets paid, even if theyre not workin’ for it!’

Those were all just some of the things you had heard, and those weren’t even the things you had heard that were related to his newfound habit of murdering those who crossed him. You’ve had your eyes on Tommy Shelby ever since you were 16. Now aged 21, it had been a long enough time that you realized what kind of person you needed to settle with, and logically, he wasn’t it.

While this entire catalog of thoughts was running through your head, your eyes watched as Arthur got closer and closer to that window. You knew you weren’t ready to see him yet, if you ever would be. So acting on those primal prey instincts, you ran. You hopped off the barstool, and started pushing your way through the crowd of bar patrons, finally having the door insight. You wrapped your hand around the handle, and pulled it open. Stepping into the cool air of the night, you took a deep breath and closed your eyes as you closed the bar door behind you. Just as you were stepping away from the door to begin your walk to the apartment you were renting, you bumped into something, or rather, someone.

“Thought I’d let you run from me a second time, aye?”

Fuck.

“I-I-”, you stammered, not having any idea what to say, now that you were staring at the face of one Thomas Shelby.

“It’s okay, I’d be nervous too if I ran into someone I left in the dust five years ago.”, he laughed, letting a puff of cigarette smoke roll out of his mouth.

“Tommy, how did you even know I was out here? I watched Arthur and left before he even opened the window, I don’t underst-”

“Shh. I have my ways, ya know I have my ways.” he spoke, that cool, gravelly voice still hadn’t changed, even after all this time.

You finally looked up at him, releasing the death stare you had on his chest. He was more handsome now, if that was even possible. His dark hair styled perfectly, like he had touched it up before meeting you outside. His hat was missing, which was a rare occurrence, but you were enjoying the unobstructed view of his face. He was lean, only muscle was visible through his white shirt, and his pants hugged his legs perfectly. He was beautiful, especially in the face. You could see more defined freckles in the glow of the street lamp, along with more defined lines carved into his forehead. You continued to study his face, while his studied yours. You had definitely matured in your time away, but not only on your face. Your lips had gotten fuller, cheek bones more pronounced, and hair longer; but you had also grown tits and an ass. You knew you had assets, and fully planned on using them to your advantage, just not on Tommy Shelby.

“My God, Y/N, I’d say you grew up…”, he trailed off, eyes looking all over your face and body.

“Yeah, that tends to happen to people as they age, Tom.” you laughed, feeling suddenly insecure as you stood under his microscope.

“What are ya doin’ back in town? I imagined you ran off and got married or somethin’,” he spoke, “But, I don’t see a ring on that finger so either that can’t be right or you married a poor bastard.”

“Not married Tom, never was. It’s part of the reason I’m back in town, but-”

“What are ya doin’ tomorrow evening?”, he cut off, not even letting you finish explaining how you didn’t want to talk about it right now.

“Nothing I know about, why?”, you asked, having no idea what was about to come out of that pretty mouth of his.

“Join me for dinner, yeah? I’d love to sit down and have a chat with ya, but I got to go handle some business right now.”, he spoke, suddenly sounding strained.

“Uh, I guess I’ll get dinner with ya, where at?”

“My place, I’ll come pick you up tomorrow at 6, Goodnight, Y/N.” Tom spoke, brushing shoulders with you lightly as he passed by, heading back into The Garrison.

#tommy shelby imagine #tommy shelby x reader #thomas shelby x reader #thomas shelby #peaky blinders #tommy shelby x you #tommy shelby fic #thomas shelby x y/n #thomas shelby fic

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eddie-van-munson · 2 years

Text

Prom Queen (Eddie Munson x Reader)

***********

Requested by @katamcauley

Summary: Eddie and the Reader have been secretly together since Jason forced them into "Seven Minutes in Heaven" as a prank, but now, as Eddie watches Jason and his goons flirt with you, he finds himself not caring who knows you're his.

Warnings: Bullying, Cursing, Spicy Kissing, Sexual Themes, Drug Use (Weed), Mentions of Blood, Sexual Harassment (Nothing Graphic), and Violence (Series Typical).

(I will get a "Read More" cut on this ASAP. I am slowly knocking out requests! Thanks for your patience. Requests are OPEN. Send an ask or comment below to be added to the tag list. I've been thinking of doing full on Seven Minutes/Truth or Dare/Spin the Bottle hcs, so let me know if that's something you want)

***********

"Jason, stop!" You groaned, trying to keep your feet planted, but the muscley blonde and his laughing friends were easily able to move you.

"Nah, babe. If you like trailer trash so much why don't you spend seven minutes in heaven with it?"

You knew you should've stayed out of it.

But you'd heard his stupid voice all the way from where you were sitting with the cheer squad, that afternoon. And god, it was Max Mayfield, of all people. Jason had been friends with her brother. They were on the same basketball team the year before, and it seemed he was keeping Billy's traditions alive. Patrick yanked her backpack from her arm and rifled through it as Jason grabbed her headphones.

"What the hell is wrong with you!?" She spat as they dumped her bag, papers flying every which way.

"Nothing personal." Jason said coolly, putting on her headphones and studying her Walkman. "We just have to be safe with you trailer park kids. You know how they are. One moment you think everything's fine..." He pulled the tape from the Walkman, tossing it haphazardly to the ground. "And the next? Well they're starting riots and cults! Bringing weapons to school! Stealing from classrooms! Other students, even!" He gave her a sticky sweet smile, "We wouldn't want that."

Max rolled her eyes at his implication, groaning as he crushed the cassette beneath his heel. Patrick tossed her bag to the side, tucking anything he'd found of interest into the pockets of his varsity jacket.

"Just doing our routine checks, freak."

You stood as soon as they were gone, running to help her with her things. "Are you ok? Did they hurt you?"

"No." She groaned, picking at the pieces of her mangled cassette. She cursed under her breath.

"Shit, what happened?"

You looked up to find a brown eyed boy staring back at you, his shaggy dark curls sticking every which way.

"Jason." Max muttered under her breath.

He cursed under his breath and dropped his bag, helping you gather the papers. He paused when he saw Max scooping up the pieces of the crushed cassette.

He sighed, "Who's our casualty?"

Max's head hung a little, running her thumb over a piece of the long tape, pitifully, "Kate Bush."

He gave a sad smile before sitting up and puffing out his chest. He pulled off the bandana he had tied around his forehead, holding it to his heart. "Long live the honorable Kate Bush. Our fallen soldier."

Max fought a smile at his dramatic speech, and he laughed, giving her shoulder a playful shove when he caught her grinning. "Go on, then. Give her a proper burial."

You tapped the papers on the ground to stack them evenly in your hands as Max ran off to toss the broken tape. You stood, and the brown eyed boy passed you Max's backpack with a bright smile. You couldn't help but smile back, blushing a little.

"You'll have to excuse me, Princess. Don't meet Hawkins royalty often." You giggled, rolling your eyes. He held a hand out to you, "I'm Eddie."

You took the handshake, laughing softly at the formality. "Y/N."

"Oh, I know who you are." He's got mischief in his eyes as he looks at you.

You quirked a brow, "Yeah?"

"Oh hell yeah. Everyone knows you, Prom Queen." You blushed at his nickname. "Didn't expect you to be such a sweetheart, though."

You shuffled your feet at bit, eyes scanning the floor shyly. "Why not?"

"It's just the crowd you hang around is all." He reassured. "Didn't peg you as one to be saving lost sheep."

A friend called your name from the cheer table, and you heard giggles and whispers. They were hard to make out, but the word "freak" was unmistakable. You shot them a dirty look, your expression melting into sympathy as you turned back to Eddie.

He rolled his eyes, shrugging, and gave you a knowing smile. "I'll see you around, L/N."

You watched him walk away, giving Max her bag and mussing her hair before jogging over to Hellfire.

Jason, obviously, had found out about the interaction.

He held your face, now, as he patronized you. "My girl wants to be friends with the freaks, huh? Fine by me, baby. I'll let you get real acquainted with one another."

You groaned, rolling your eyes "Christ, Jason. I'm not your girl. Leave me the hell alone."

You thrashed your arms and kicked, but it was no use. Jason shoved the door open and threw you inside, slamming it again.

You landed on your ass in Jason's bedroom, staring up at a bewildered Eddie Munson.

"Jesus, are you ok?" He knelt beside you, giving you his arm to help you up.

Your legs were shakey, but in an odd way, the sight of him relaxed you a little. "W-What are you doing here?"

He clutched his chest. "What, you assume I wasn't invited? I'm wounded, Princess."

You rolled your eyes as he sat with you on the bed.

"I thought I was dealing for the party." He sighed. "But then when I got here they shoved me in here and locked the door." He laughed humorously, "I gotta say, I can't tell you how fucking relieved I am to see you. Thought they were gonna beat the shit out of me and hide my body or something. "

You sighed, "Well hopefully Seven Minutes in Heaven beats that."

He crawled further up onto the mattress, crossing his legs lazily and propping his arms behind his head. "You know, I always thought Jason hated me, but now, he's going around locking me in rooms with pretty girls. I guess he's warming up to me." You snorted, his friendliness relaxing you, and your eyes fell to the floor shyly. He stared at you warmly, "I suppose he's more using me as the punishment this time though, huh? Spend some time with the freak and if you make it out alive, you can sit at the popular table?"

Your heart sank. He seemed so exasperatedly resigned to it all. As if it were just another Tuesday.

"I don't think it's a punishment." You countered his deprecating words, crossing your arms.

He gave a lazy smile, chewing on his necklace passively, "No?"

You shook your head with a smile, peering at him over your shoulder.

"He really is a meathead, you know." You tested the waters carefully, holding his gaze. "He locks me in a room with a pretty boy and expects me to be upset about it? Ridiculous."

Eddie froze, a shit eating grin tugging at his pretty lips. "You're flirting with me."

You smirked, blushing. "You started it."

"Maybe," He crawled closer, sitting behind you on the bed with your body turned to face him, "But you liked it enough to keep it going."

The air was thick with tension now. He was close enough for you to see the faint spattering of freckles on his nose. A tiny scar at his temple. "How much time do we have left?"

He grinned, "Why do you ask? You got somewhere to be?"

"I'd just rather not have Jason Carver walk in on me jumping your bones."

"Oh, is that what you're gonna do?" He chuckled when you blushed, a hand coming up to hold your chin. "I've gotta disagree with you there. I think that's an ideal senario, really."

You laughed so sweetly he couldn't help but grin.

"You didn't have anything to drink, did you?" His voice is soft, nose nudged against yours. It felt like electricity in your veins as his lips teasingly grazed your own. You shook your head no. "Good."

When he kissed you it was like liquid warmth spreading through you. He tasted sweet and tart, like he'd been eating Jolly Ranchers before you happened to dropped in, and he smelled like green apples and good weed. His curls tickled your cheeks ever so slightly as you let his hands slide over your neck to cradle your face against his. You moaned softly, your tongue grazing his, and he cursed against you. He was needy and messy, nipping and sucking at your lips when you laced your fingers in his hair and tugged gently. He made a delicious sound at that, reaching blindly for your thighs and pulling you up into his lap. He held you, his hands drifting beneath your shirt to rub your back. You whined his name breathlessly.

"Fuck, Hey..." He hummed against you , your breath was shakey when he as he pulls back to look at you. He was gorgeous...all kiss bitten and smiley.

"Now, as eager as I am for you to jump my bones, tiger..." He pecked your lips again, chastely, as if he couldn't help it. "I think you 'ought to let me take you home first."

You frowned, "Home?"

He grinned, giving your thighs a little pat with one last kiss, signaling for you to stand. You did, though relucatantly, and Eddie wandered over to the window.

"Like you said..." He smiled at you, easily pulling up on the frame and opening the window. "Meathead."

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

It had been Eddie's idea to keep it a secret. If it had been up to you, you would have been making out with him in the halls like every other god forsaken couple at Hawkins High.

You'd wanted to sit with him at lunch. Watch Hellfire do their thing. Go see his band play. And while this made Eddie's heart sprout little wings and fly around in his chest, he knew better.

"You...God, you have no idea how much I want that." He whined, burying his face in your neck. You were laid out on his bed with him, sharing a joint as you rambled.

He pressed kisses to the crook of your neck and you squirmed when they tickled, grinning at him, "Then let me come, stupid." You mussed his curls playfully and he gave a croaky laugh.

"You know you I can't do that, Prom Queen."

You rolled your eyes, blowing smoke up towards the roof of the trailer. "Why not?"

"Babe." He held your chin as you looked up at him, "He heard a rumor that you had a single conversation with me and he shoved you on your ass and locked you in a room with a stranger." You frowned, knowing deep down he was right. "God, you have know idea how much I want to show you off. Kiss you whenever I want. Especially when you're walking around in that little cheer skirt. Like, holy fuck, are you trying to kill me?"

You laughed, rolling your eyes.

"But I'm not going to let those assholes make your life hell because of me. Trust me. I'm not worth it."

"Fuck off." You whined at his self-deprecating words. "You're worth everything."

He smiled, crooning down to graze your lips, "Everything huh?"

"More than everything. Everything and then even more on top of that. Have you ever seen Carrie?"

He nodded, looking amused, and laid the burnt end of the joint in an ashtray.

"That's the kind of shit I'd put up with for you."

He laughed loudly, "Aw babe...I can't believe you'd become a blood thirsty telekinetic monster for me." He clutches his heart in faux sentiment.

"Any day, Munson."

His arms wrapped around your waist and he sighed, rolling onto his back so you were laying atop him. "Well as much as I appreciate the offer..." he combed his fingers through your hair, and you nearly purred. "I'm not letting anyone give my Prom Queen a pig's blood bath."

***********

Mike had been rambling about El for nearly fourty five minutes, now. He'd just gotten a new letter from her and he was over the moon, relaying to the group all of her stories about Jonathan and Will and Rink-o-Mania, Lucas and Dustin interjecting every so often to gush over Suzie and Max. Eddie was trying to listen. He really was. But his eyes kept getting lost in the thick rule book he'd propped up in front of his throne. He sighed softly, picking up one of his tiny silver figures to toy with it while the boys talked.

"Are we gonna play?" He finally groaned, his leg swung over the arm of his throne lazily. "You guys have been rambling like idiots in love for a half hour."

"Aw, are you jealous, Munson?" Mike teased with faux sympathy. "Don't worry, buddy. You'll find someone someday."

"Nah man." Eddie smirked, picking at his fingernails. "I'm off the market. Don't get me wrong, you guys are cute and all. I've just heard so much about these Señoritas that I think I know them better than you do at this point."

Lucas paused, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning back in his chair. "What do you mean you're off the market?"

"Don't worry Sinclair. There's plenty of me to go around." He spread his arms goofily, grinning.

Dustin looked unimpressed, "You expect us to believe you've got a girl?"

"Not a girl, Henderson. A woman."

Mike rolled his eyes, "He's lying."

Eddie scoffed, "Come on, man. You're allowed to to have a girlfriend that's just casually a superhero, but the moment I have a girlfriend at all? That's when you call bullshit?"

"Who is she?"

Lucas countered, crossing his arms.

Eddie paused, debating if he should tell them. "Y/N L/N."

The table groaned, sending Eddie into a fit of laughter.

"Sureeee."

"Come off it, Eds."

"Whatever man."

Eddie rolled his eyes, crossing his arms behind his head, "When have I ever lied to you guys huh? I don't have to prove myself to you little assholes."

Lucas shook his head. "A girlfriend is one thing, Eddie. A cheerleader girlfriend? That's another. But Y/N L/N? Dude...that's something else entirely."

***********

You gasped, throwing your elbows and struggling when someone came up behind you and wrapped their arms around your waist in the empty hallway. Your hallpass fluttered to the ground. "Get your hands off of me, assho-"

Their arms loosened, "Oh come on, angel, I know I'm no Prince Charming, but I thought you liked me better than that."

You froze, immediately turning and throwing your arms around the curly haired, brown eyed boy in front of you. "Eds..."

He held your waist with one arm, rubbing your back with the other. "Hey, I've got you. I didn't mean to scare you, baby. Is something going on?" His brow furrowed with concern, cradling your face.

You buried your face in his chest, voice muffled. "I'm sorry." You fought to catch your breath, hands shaking with adrenaline. "Jason and some other idiots from the basketball team. They always flirt, but they've been...touchy, today." You swallowed thickly. "They've been following me around like dogs."

"Hold up, touchy? They put their hands on you?" Anger flashed in his eyes as he looked you over, protectively. "They've pulled shit like that? Running up and grabbing you?"

"They've only held me like that once," You croak. "Normally they just push me back up against the lockers."

Eddie's face hardened, his jaw clenching. His lip trembled, and you could tell he was hiding rage just beneath the surface. He nodded, pulling you close to hug you against his chest. He kissed your forehead. "If this happens again, you tell me. You come tell me right away, ok? You did the right thing. If they put hands on you like that again I want you to do exactly what you did just a minute ago. Just swing your arms and kick like hell alright?"

You nodded, looking up and him, and he pecked your lips, mussing your hair. "I'm not gonna let them touch you again, ok?"

Again, you nodded, and hugged him tightly, enjoying the familiar smell and feel of him again before you heard a door open down the hall, and you jumped apart.

***********

"What's wrong, Eds? Things getting rocky with the ole imaginary girlfriend?" Mike sat his tray down beside Eddie, but he couldn't take his eyes off of Jason Carver's table. The more he thought about it, the more anger he felt.

Sure, Jason had always had some sort of sick fascination with you, but if this was happening to you, it was happening to other girls too.

Eddie's stomach churned.

His gaze immediately turned to you when he saw you walking back to the cheer table with your lunch, sitting beside Chrissy Cunningham.

He felt a little twinge of relief, seeing you snug in between two of your friends at the table. He took a few bites of his food, trying to pay attention to what his friends were debating about this time.

His muscles tightened when he saw you stand from the table, presumably, to throw away your trash and return your lunch tray. Jason stood with his tray as well, closely followed by two of his goons. Eddie's jaw clenched, and he quickly turned to watch the scene more closely.

"What's he riled up about, this time?" Gareth muttered. The other boys laughed, taking teasing jabs, but Eddie didn't process a word of it at this point.

He watched Jason like a hawk as the blonde muttered something to his friends, pointing over at you. Eddie shot up from the lunch table.

You'd just put your tray down when you felt someone come up behind you, grabbing your waist. You gasped, feeling Patricks hot breath on your neck. "Why don't we go find a spot under the bleachers and you can show my friends and I what you wear under that pretty uniform?"

You struggled, just like Eddie told you, but Patrick shoved you foward into Andy's chest.

Eddie sprinted across the room, elbowing through the crowds as panic bubbled in his stomach. "Hey!"

You took a step back, but Andy's hands were already grabbing your hips. You shoved your fists against his chest. "Aw, Don't be like that. It won't do any good. I like it when girls play hard to g-"

A fist found Andy's jaw, and he fell backwards, pulling you down with him. Eddie gathered you quickly from the floor up into his arms, his eyes looking you up and down for any sign that they'd hurt you. "You okay?"

You nodded, tears in your eyes, and Eddie held you close, letting you cling to his chest as Andy stood up again, looking pissed.

"What the hell is wrong with you, you freak?" He spat, nose starting to bleed.

"What's wrong with me? You're the one feeling up my girlfriend in the middle of the goddamn lunch room!"

The room seemed to freeze, laughter breaking out slowly across the tables. Hellfire was on its feet, every single member watching with their jaw dropped.

"Girlfriend..." Jason scoffed, wandering over. "You really are nuts aren't you?"

Eddie swallowed thickly. You could feel him trembling. "I'm going to tell you this one time, Carver. So, you better get it through your thick fucking skull."

The room went quiet again. Jason crossed his arms over his chest, looking amused.

"If I see you lay a goddamn finger on another girl in this school, I will personally beat in every pearly little tooth in your fucking mouth."

There was a long silence. You'd never heard Eddie's voice so dark.

"You understand me?" His breathing was heavy with anger.

Jason rolled his eyes, chuckling. "Jesus, Y/N. Tell this freak you're not his. I think he's been playing pretend a little too much with his boyfriends. It seems to have gotten to his head."

There was a long silence. Eddie wasn't sure what you would do. In a way, he would understand if you did tell him to fuck off. The whole damn school was watching, now.

Trembling, you took Eddie's chin, turning him to look at you. His eyelashes fluttered, giving you silent permission, and you pulled him down into a sweet, comforting, long overdue kiss.

The silence dissipated into shocked murmurs, and Jason watched in horrified confusion as Eddie pecked your lips one last time before turning to look at him.

"Like I said...Hands off."

He slid his arm around your waist, squeezing your hand comfortingly as he walked you over to the Hellfire table. The boys were silent, staring at the two of you like you had three heads.

"Boys, I'd like you to meet Lady L/N...Newest member of the Hellfire Club."

Dustin stared, jaw still slack with amazement. "Eddie..."

Eddie's brow raised expectantly.

"That was...so fucking metal, dude."

***********

#eddie munson #eddie the freak munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #stranger things #stranger things imagine #eddie munson imagine #eddie imagine #eddie imagines #stranger things imagines #eddie x reader #eddie x you #stranger things x you #stranger things x reader #eddie munsen x reader #eddie munsen imagine #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munsen

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mayfieldss · 10 months

Text

If only you could know - Carmen Berzatto

Content Warnings; pining, language, unrequited affection, boss x employee relationship, not beta read or spell checked, small fights and sexual innuendos. fem reader mentions and out of character Carmy because I wrote this at 2am and couldn't think straight at all. (there are so many Gracie Abrams references in here in here omg)

Summary: Carmy admires you, but he doesn't have the guts to say it, for one reason only; he doesn't think you like him like that.

Reblogs and comments are appreciated! Support your writers!

Carmen 'Carmy' Berzatto is an anxious mess. He's just met a girl, and she's just ripped him open, leaving him to wonder just how he can get her attention again. Carmen Berzatto doesn't think it's real when said girl applies for a job. When she lists off her skills and hands in her resume.

Carmen Berzatto is an anxious mess, and he doesn't know why.

Carmy couldn't exactly pinpoint what it was about you that captivated him. Whether it was the way you smiled or the way you talked. Or maybe the way you'd looked at him like he was a person worth knowing. Or maybe it was the little things, like how you fiddled with your hands when nervous, and laughed at every bad joke Richie told just to make the man feel better.

Carmy didn't mean to do any of it—notice the little things. But somehow his gaze would stick to you, his brain committing to memory every frown of confusion or concentration, every small smile he could win from you. He didn't mean to do any of it, but somehow he couldn't stop.

You'd been working with him for about a week when he sat down with you for lunch, pushing around the food on his plate as he tried not to stare. You'd asked him a million questions, each one crazier than the last, but they didn't bother him. You said things in a way that made his emotions run high, and he answered everything with a small smile on his lips. You spoke to him about what others would deem insignificant in his career, and not the big achievements that overshadowed who he was as a person. Not the challenges that came with harsh memories, the pressure to be the best. You asked him how he felt about things and what he liked most. And the best part of it was that you really did want to know. You wanted to know him, and somehow that left his mind muddled and his heart racing.

By the first month, Carmy had almost lost his mind. He hid it well and didn't treat you any differently from the others, but when work was slow or he had seconds to spare, he would shift his eyes to you. The way you worked, moved fast without a single missed step when you were focused, and the awkward laughs as you stumbled or dropped something when you were not. Carmy admired you, even when he wasn't trying to. Hell, he even loved the way you cursed, betting money on your wins during your fights with Richie.

But Carmy didn't want to freak you out, and he didn't want to freak himself out either. He didn't have time for relationships in the past, and he'd never had a second to think about someone the way he thought of you. Was it weird for him to be flooded with concern when you didn't seem like yourself? Was he odd for memorizing the way you moved?

Carmy didn't like to avoid things, but he had a talent for it, especially when the things he was avoiding happened to include indescribable emotions. He knew it was a bad idea to cut you out slowly, but it was what he knew. He'd done it time and time again, separating himself from the people he cared for in order to escape. In order to keep himself safe. What He didn't take into consideration was how quickly you would notice.

Carmy didn't push you away completely of course. He still had to work with you, every single day, but he stopped seeking you out, making excuses to talk to you. When you spoke to him he began giving simplistic answers that brought conversations to an end faster than usual, and he hoped that in blocking small pieces of you out, he could get over you.

It was horrible caring for someone so deeply, he thought. It was almost like a form of torture, an endless cycle of wondering, and hoping that the person you're chasing might feel something similar. Might care just as much. But Carmy couldn't let it get that far. He couldn't bring himself to ask you, to press the subject, especially when he hadn't made any attempts himself to show you how he felt.

With each conversation he cut short, and each seat he took during family that wasn't by your side, he felt you slipping just a little. But not in the way he wanted. His feelings stayed, even with his battle to suppress them, and the only thing he seemed to be breaking was the chances of you sharing said emotions. You stopped trying to initiate interaction and kept communication professional. And suddenly the silences that shouted between you seemed so much louder than before. Everything that went unspoken became a painful reminder of everyone Carmy had lost in his past, and every day you drifted further from his grasp.

Carmy spent two weeks hoping that his feelings would go away, but it seemed to make things worse. He tried not to focus on you, and whilst he was succeeding he began to feel dejected. He missed the way you talked, how on late nights during clean up deep in conversation, you would cry over certain obsessions you had. Happy tears accompanied by laughs of course, and the awkward smile you would share as bright red embarrassment flooded your face. He missed the strands of hair that would fall from where you'd clipped it back, how they would float about your face like a frame.

He doesn't understand any of it, and he doesn't know how he's supposed to go about his days pretending that none of it matters. He doesn't want to care, he doesn't want to feel warmth creep up his neck when you meet his eyes for longer than a few seconds. He doesn't know anything, and neither do you. You don't know just how hard it is for him to avoid you, completely oblivious to the fact he would let you take up all his time.

He spares a glance at you as you leave for the night, sky dark above you as you step out into the cold, and he knows then that he would let you ruin all his days.

He thinks about that for another week, letting it sink in that he would feel more than comfortable handing you his whole life. It's been little over a year since he met you, since something clicked inside of him at the realisation that you were unlike anyone he'd ever met. That you were somehow the person that made him feel comfortable in his own skin. He didn't have to be anyone else. He didn't have to be the best chef in the world for you to care.

But still, he couldn't say it, and all he could do was watch you drift further and further from him, the tides of his fear tugging you back. It's Tina who snaps him out of it, bringing him back to earth, to the restaurant and to himself.

"Jeff, what is wrong with you?" She's stood in the doorway of his office just before closing, arms folded and a brow raised in disapproval.

Carmy doesn't understand her, and honestly he never really has, but he gets one thing, she's disappointed. "Did I do something wrong?" He turns in his chair to face her properly as he talks, curious and confused.

"I see how you look at her," Tina starts, casting her eyes out of the room for a moment as if to check no one is coming. "Why do you push her away?"

"Who exactly are we talking about here?" Carmy asks, knowing well enough where this is going. He's running out of time to come up with excuses and he doesn't think he has any left to give.

"You know who," Tina sends him a frown, "she really liked you, you know. And now," she pauses contemplating whether she should tell Carmy exactly what she knows.

Now Carmy is even more confused, and suddenly his heart is beating a little faster in his chest. Each second of silence is an aching weight on his ability to breathe, and yet Tina still fails to continue.

"And now what, Tina? What's going on?" He tries not to seem so affected by her pause, her deliberation, but it's scaring him and he needs the answer.

Tina, in the end, can see his desperation, a long sigh passing from her lips as sympathy overtakes her features. It's rare for her to show him such care, and that makes it all much worse when she gives in.

"Now she thinks you hate her."

Carmy leans forward in his chair, a hand over his mouth as it sinks in. How the avoidance he started, created a rift just like it always does. How he sent you signals that perhaps ruined your view of him altogether. He hates himself for it because he doesn't think he could ever hate you, and yet you seem to think that's all he can do.

"How long? How long has she felt like this?" carding a hand through his hair, Carmy can't find it in himself to sit still, knee bobbing up and down as his eyes flit from Tina, to the floor.

"It's been a while, Jeff." She can tell he cares and her words come softly, as if breaking the news of the loss of a loved one. In a way that's exactly what this is.

"Is she still here?" Carmy finds himself standing, waiting for the answer with very little patience.

"She's leaving now, you might be able to catch her on the way out, but no guarantees." Tina steps to the side, allowing Carmy to rush straight out the door of the office. You're not in the kitchen and by the time he makes it to the register you're nowhere to be found, but the bell atop the store door is still swinging with the weight of it's most recent ring, and he hopes it's a sign that you're right outside.

Carmen Berzatto is an anxious mess, and as he pushes himself out the door he knows why.

When he lays his eyes on you you're walking away, bag over your shoulder and jacket wrapped tight around your body. It takes him at least three seconds to call out, and when you turn it starts to sink in.

"Can we talk?" It's hard for him to say, especially after all the time he's spent trying to avoid this conversation and by the looks of it, you aren't so eager to be in this situation either. But even so, you nod, sending him a smile. It's somewhat fake and that says something in itself, that Carmy can tell the difference between that of your falsified happiness and your real joy.

It takes him a moment, and the silence between you is like a stone dropped into a lake, sinking deeper and deeper into the both of you with every second. "I'm sorry if I've been distant." he's taking it slow, hoping that perhaps a confession isn't needed just yet. But there's seems to be no change in you, and the dip of your brows makes you seem so tired.

"Did Tina put you up to this?" You sound just as exhausted as you look, and the eye contact Carmy holds with you is both soothing and stressful.

"She told me some things," he admits "but I'm here because I want to be." Carmen is fiddling nervously with his fingers, trying to act as though this isn't difficult for him to do. He's looking at you properly for the first time in months, acknowledging you and taking in everything he missed. The details he used to scan over every day are still the same, and he finds the peace in you that he always has, even now. "I don't hate you. I don't think it's possible for me to do that." He laughs with the last part, anxiety creeping through into the sound.

"Carmen, I understand it's not possible for everyone to like me, and I'm not mad at you. You're trying to be my boss, not my friend." You try for a smile again, a weak one that seems to hurt Carmy rather than send comfort through his veins.

He finds himself frowning, and the disbelief of it all consumes him entirely as he listens to you, processing your words like they are knives that slash toward his heart. "That's not...I didn't mean for—" He's an awkward stuttering mess, just like when he was a kid. He was afraid to speak his mind back then, but he can't live in his past anymore. "I don't hate you, and you've got it all wrong."

"Have I? Because it sure doesn't feel like it." You shift your bag further onto your shoulder, and Carmy can tell you're uncomfortable. He hates that he's the cause of it.

"I'm sorry, for ignoring you, distancing myself, but I don't hate you and I need you to know that." He combs a hand over his hair again, his eyes locked to yours as he remembers just how easy it was to get lost within you. How easy it still is to do so. "I don't know why I thought cutting you out would help, and it was selfish."

"Did I do something wrong?"

"What, No—" He goes to defend you, to excuse his actions in fire of stuttered words, but you cut him off, your eyebrows knitting together in a frown.

"You said cutting me out would help, Carmy. Help with what? What did I do?"

And there it was, the slip-up that was inescapable, the forced hand of Carmy's emotions and the checkmate of his story. He stands there, unsure and frozen until you scoff in disbelief. "I'm tired Carmy, I'm going home."

You go to turn around, and for a second Carmy thinks about letting you leave. Perhaps that would give him time, push back the inevitable until he can find the confidence to say it all. But Carmy isn't that stupid, and letting you leave will be the end of it all if he does.

"I'd let you ruin my fucking life."

That makes you stop like a statue in the street, paused in utter disorientation, and Carmy is scared out of his mind. But he thinks of Michael, what he would say had he seen his brother so damn terrified of something that might change him forever, the three words he always said. And suddenly Carmy has got to say everything. His hands shake and his thoughts are scaling the walls of his brain, but he manages. He pushes through.

"I'd let you ruin my whole life, and I don't know how the fuck else to describe it." The cold night air does nothing to calm his nerves, and he can feel the heat creeping up his neck, into his face. "There's something about you that just—it tears me apart and, fuck!" Carmy's hands find their way to his hair as if pulling at it in frustration will do any good. He paces. He paces as if that will help bring the words to his lips, as if that will help him take it all back. As if each step will give him a second chance to do things right. Why can't he do anything right?

"You're just so—" he can't find the word, stuck in the limbo of his own vocabulary, and finally he turns to you in defeat, hoping the sight of you will provide an answer. It does, in a way, help him form a sentence, though it's not the one he'd originally planned. "You're just so fucking real. It's like I'm surrounded by all this goddamn plastic all the time, like everything is just going so fast and I can't hold on to any of it. And I've been trying to find something real, something stable my whole life. And I guess that's why you fuck with my head."

The air around Carmy seems muted, and the fact you're left speechless with nothing to say to him is perhaps the entire reason he didn't tell you any of this in the first place. He'd caught you off guard, bombarding you with a more than unprofessional conversation, and now he's sure you'll run. You'll run from him, from the restaurant and find some new place to spend your days. Away from him, from his messed up life.

"Fuck, I'm so sorry," He's trying to cover for himself, or perhaps he's only talking to fill the deafening silence "I shouldn't have dumped that on you, that wasn't professional I just—" Carmy goes quiet. Not because he doesn't have more to say—he has plenty more apologies to let loose, and yet he's silent. He's occupied now, lips busy as they press against yours and he doesn't quite know what's happening. You'd moved forward so fast, hands on his shoulders, and mid-sentence Carmy felt himself stop breathing. Because you kissed him and after the initial shock of it all, he found himself kissing you back. You had intended it to be a short kiss, a simple peck just to keep him quiet, but before you could even think of pulling away Carmy pulled you back for more. He didn't even mean to do it, the subconscious decision to pull you closer being only a minuscule part of his concerns. The worst part is that Carmy doesn't know if he's doing any of it right. He doesn't know if he should be doing this at all—kissing a co-worker like it's his last day on earth—but he is. The feel of your hands on his shoulders, and his own on the sides of your face, is all so new, but he doesn't hate it. Not in the slightest.

When he pulls back it's awkward, and the quiet, panicked chuckle that leaves you seems so different to the stunned silence he stands in. He is still so close to you, and his hands have yet to leave the sides of your face. He's waiting for you to ask for space, to move away, but you don't.

"That wasn't professional of me at all." You speak so quietly, almost in a whisper and somehow, the sound of your voice, combined with such ridiculous words makes him smile.

"I started it, so I guess the blames on me."

You shake your head, eyes falling downward in embarrassment before you look back up at him, and Carmy hasn't seen that look on your face before. He doesn't know what it means, but by the softest upturn of your lips, and the way you press your cheek a little further into the palm of his hand, he dares to take a guess and assume that maybe, the way your eyes are scanning over him is a good thing. "I kissed you first." You mutter, letting out a small huff of breath as if you can't believe it.

"But I kissed you back." He adds "So technically, we're both part of the problem."

You laugh, and Carmy lets himself do the same, because, for the first time in a long time, he can let the weight that was bringing him down, fade away.

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cevansbrat0007 · 11 months

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Thirst Trap

Summary: Ari loves looking at your ass in those shorts, as long as he's the one who gets to walk behind you.

Warnings: Ari Being A Menace, Implied Stalking, Smut, Brat!Reader, Arguments, Jealous/Possessive Behavior, Biting, Light D/s Overtones, Slight Manhandling, Ass Slapping, Spanking (mentioned), Edging (mentioned), Punishments (mentioned), Hair Pulling, Discussions of Body Image, Cursing, Minors DNI

A/N: This story is part of my Sweet Renegades Series. Not beta'd. All mistakes are my own. Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated. Thanks for reading!

“Any minute now.” Ari grumbles to himself as he glares down at a display of brightly colored bell peppers while he waits for you to move on to a different part of the store.

You’ve been lingering in the produce department for the better part of ten minutes now. In fact, it’s your second time over here, what with you having doubled-back to switch out some of the strawberries you’d originally grabbed in favor of several containers of blueberries.

Or, perhaps raspberries. Maybe blackberries and – nope. You appeared to be solidly set on those damned blueberries. Thank God.

It wasn’t so much Ari being impatient with you as it was him ready to leave the store. If he was being honest, you most likely weren’t even aware that he was here. And if you had noticed, then you were doing a fantastic job of ignoring him.

Frankly, he was surprised that a member of Herb & Twine’s loss prevention team hadn’t approached him by now. Especially since he had yet to actually put anything in his cart. The same cart he’d been pushing around for the better part of a half-hour.

At this point, Ari Levinson was growing suspicious of his own damn self. Starting with the fact that every day he woke up more and more addicted to you – your voice, your smile, your touch.

And that body. Fuck!

You had no idea just how many nights he had lain awake thinking of those gorgeous curves, his hand fisted around his cock desperate for a little relief. You were a permanent fixture in his mind these days. And you had no fucking clue.

Just like you had no fucking clue that you were drawing the attention of practically every man in this place who still possessed the ability to get it up.

All thanks to a pair of cutoff denim shorts. They fit your ass so good it was damn near disrespectful. And sweet heavenly fuck were they short! Everytime you moved he was treated to a glimpse of those tempting curves.

Shit set his teeth on edge. Because while he was thrilled that you were feeling confident enough to show off your curves, there was another, more primal, part of him that hated the fact that you were showing off what belonged to him.

Mine.

That one word dances through his brain, making him wish that he could simply toss you over his shoulder and carry you off to some remote location. Maybe punish you for daring to wear that outfit in public without your man by your side.

So now, instead of focusing on his own shopping, he’s been forced to follow you around the store. Staying just out of sight, of course. Which wasn’t easy. It was tough to be stealthy when he constantly found himself being mesmerized by the sway of your hips.

In his defense of his stalker ways, he’d been ready to identify himself from the moment he laid eyes on you. But since he was already in a foul mood – because you hadn’t called him like you said you would – he decided to pretend to run into you at the check-out lane instead.

Until Ari had caught a couple young punks, whose barely-there mustaches were entirely too wispy for his liking, checking out your ass for a few seconds too long. And what pissed him off more than anything else is that you appeared oblivious to all of it.

You were too busy living in your own little world, sashaying your way through the grocery store, with your sweet ass on display. An ass that belonged to him.

Just like you did, beautiful Bird.

“Time to move it along, fellas.” Ari grunts, none-too-gently nudging their cart with his own. “We’re here to shop, not to gawk at the pretty ladies.”

What were their names again? Charley and Dirk? More like Beavis and Butt-Head, if he were being honest.

“Ain’t no laws against admiring.” Dirk responds as he elbows his buddy in the ribs. “I’m telling you, man. I don’t think she’s as stuck up as everyone lets on.”

Ari also agrees with that assessment of you, even though he doesn’t say anything. Because they were right. You were so much more than what the folks in this town had initially led him to believe.

“Nah. That bitch once gave me shit for throwing away a bunch of my sister’s old books instead of donating them or whatever the fuck she said she does.” Comes Charley’s retort, a smirk firmly plastered on his lips.

“So what? Maybe she just needs to get laid. I bet if I – hey!”

Ari interrupts the young men, ramming their cart again with a bit more force this time. “I meant what I said. Now you can either move it along, or I can escort you out the door myself. Up to you.”

“But we ain’t even done anything wrong, Levinson!” One sputters as the other takes a tentative step back.

“Harassment is a crime anywhere, boys. Even in bumfuck towns like this one.” The imposing bounty hunter dips his head knowingly, baring his teeth as he does. “Now, do I need to retrieve my cuffs? And because I’m passionate about the law, I always carry two pairs.”

Shaking their heads “no”, both of them turn and quickly hasten away, continuing to mutter under their breaths as they do. Which is fine by him. Because whether they knew it or not, they’d just made Ari’s personal shit list. Which meant they’d do well to stay out of his way for the foreseeable future.

But you, on the other hand…you two were about to have words. As soon as he tracked you down again.

Ari searches high and low for you for several minutes, continuously walking the aisles hoping to catch a glimpse of you. But unfortunately for him, his search turns up empty. Which then leads him out to the parking lot, just in time to see you hang a left off the property.

What on earth possessed you to walk here? And better yet, where the fuck was your car?

“Swear to God, you need a damned keeper.” He grumbles as he makes a beeline for his own vehicle. Throwing himself inside, he slams the door and guns the engine before peeling out of the lot. “Might as well be a full-time job.”

Although you’re moving quickly, it doesn’t take long for him to catch up with you. You all-but jump out of your skin when he pulls out next to you. But instead of apologizing for scaring you like he normally would, he finds himself ready to rip you a new one on account of the fact that you’re wearing fucking headphones.

“Have you lost your fucking mind?” Ari snarls, his gruff tone taking you slightly aback.

“I mean I don’t think so.” You sniff, temporarily halting your steps so you can peer at him through the passenger window. “But the day is young and I just got some new inventory that’s been on back-order for a while so…” You muster up a cheeky smile, even as you feel yourself beginning to sweat. “I guess anything is possible.”

Damn this early summer heat. Between the stickiness in the air and your thighs rubbing together, you were ready to sit down. But first you had to make it back to the shop in one piece.

“Get in the car, Bird.” Your occasional bed-partner’s no-nonsense tone instantly has your hackles raised as he puts the truck in park.

“Why?” You ask, not bothering to hide your suspicion.

“Get in the damn car.” Ari repeats, his left hand squeezing the steering wheel so hard you worry he might rip it clean off the dash.

“Say please.” Sometimes Mr. Levinson seemed to forget the importance of manners.

“Fucking damn it, woman!” He barks, before exiting his ride and jogging around the side to yank open the door closest to you. “Baby,” he tries again, his fingers going to pinch the bridge of his nose. “We can do this either one of two ways. Either you can get in the car on your own like a good girl, or I can put you in it myself.”

You shoot him a glare, suddenly wishing you had purchased something a little heavier than fresh fruit and whipping cream from Herb & Twine in preparation for this very moment. That way you might have a better chance of knocking some much needed sense into his thick skull.

“And I take it there isn’t a third option?” You venture, your teeth going to nibble at your bottom lip.

“Bird, I’m so glad you asked.” This time Ari finally sees fit to offer you a smile. Too bad there’s nothing friendly about it. “Option three involves me bending you over the hood of my truck and tanning all that ass you’ve got hanging out of your shorts for being dumb enough to walk to the damned store instead of taking your car.

“I am not dumb!” You hiss, feeling the bite of his anger. “I just had to grab the stuff I needed to make popsicles.”

“Then what do you call it?” He growls, snagging a hold of your bags. “Because last time I checked, we’ve got a man on the run who just might be a fucking killer. And you decide that it’s a good time for a goddamned stroll.”

Those words have you instantly deflating. Just because this man in front of you had a way of getting under your skin sometimes didn’t make him any less right. While you had viewed your quick trip to the store as an easy way to stretch your legs and get some fresh air, someone else might take that opportunity to see you as a target. Which meant that you had almost royally fucked up.

“Okay.” Is all you can manage before handing him the rest of your belongings. “I assume you know how to get back to Baubles & Quills?”

“I do. Just like I knew you’d see it my way.”

It’s only a ten-minute ride to your shop. But thanks to your asshole companion, it might as well have been an hour. And at this point you were fucking fuming.

“Thanks for the lift, Ari.” You snarl, shutting the car door with your hip and marching towards the front door of your shop. “But I can handle myself.” Fishing out your keys, you make quick work of unlocking the door and all but tossing your groceries inside. They land with a dull thunk, the contents spilling out of the bags and onto the floor.

The gall of this man! Acting as if he had the right to bark orders at you because you’d slept together once or twice. Alright, it was more like five. But no more. After today you were done.

Especially since he’d spent the entire ten-minutes it took to get back to your shop reading you the riot act. Don’t do this. Don’t do that. No traveling on your own after sundown. Call him every night when you’re locking up the shop and then again when you get home…

The list went on and on. Up until now, you’d honestly had no idea just how much Ari Levinson loved hearing himself talk.

“You know, for the record, I was doing just fine before you got here.” You continue, casting him a withering glance over your shoulder.You don’t miss the way his jaw clenches either. “And I’m sure I’ll find a way to do even better once you leave.”

Fire burning hot in your belly, you allow the door to slam behind you as you busy yourself with collecting your things. There was a refrigerator in the kitchenette you could use to store everything until it was time to head home for the day.

In the meantime, if that beefy, overbearing knuckle dragger outside knew what was good for him, he’d pile himself into his truck and drive off into the sunset. Preferably sooner rather than later. Before you went and made the mistake of actually catching feelings or something.

Because who the fuck were you kidding? The man had a propensity for spiking your blood pressure long before you ever allowed him anywhere near your damn panties. Which meant you knew better. And you’d still decided to give up the goods all because you were worried about cobwebs in your coochie.

“The sex isn’t even that good.” You mutter as you flip the light switch.

Okay, yes it was. But you were also smarter than this. Just because the man had pretty eyes, an easy smile, and a big dick didn’t mean he could talk to you any ol’ kind of way. Or just insert himself in your life like he was planning to stick around.

As if he planned to stay. You were done accepting promises from men who either couldn’t or wouldn’t keep them.

You startle when you hear the chime of the bells, signaling the opening and closing of the front door. For their sake, it had better not be a customer. You weren’t feeling particularly helpful or friendly at the moment.

“We’re closed. Get out.” You call, hoping that whoever was out there had heard you the first time. Unfortunately for you, luck just didn’t seem to be on your side today. Because instead of the sounds of someone beating a hasty retreat, you get more Ari Levinson.

“Which is exactly why you need to lock the goddamn door. Or what part of there might be a killer on the loose do you not quite get?”

“I was getting around to it!” You snipe, really wishing you’d had the forethought to lock the damn door before that insufferable man had decided to waltz through it after you.

“Not fast enough for my liking.” Ari leans against the doorframe, his big body blocking the exit. “And since I’m gettin’ shit off my chest, I don’t appreciate you walking away from me in the middle of a conversation either.”

That earns him an eye roll before you return your attention to rearranging items in the fridge. Quite honestly, you didn’t give a damn about what he did or didn’t like. And you hated the fact that the quiet authority in his voice was all it took to ruin your panties.

Bossy bastard.

“Eyes, Bird.” He growls, making it clear he wasn’t letting you off the hook for that passive show of disrespect. “I already made it plain how I felt about you rolling ‘em at me. And if you recall, it pisses me the fuck off.”

Ari Levinson had never been the type of man who did well with being dismissed. By anyone. Anywhere. Ever.

“Well, it pisses me the fuck off when people like you make comments about what I wear. Frankly, I struggle enough being in this body as it is. So, if you don’t like my clothes then don’t fucking look at me and maybe you won’t be disgusted by the sight of my fat ass hanging out of my shorts. Problem solved.”

“The fuck did you say?” The sound of Ari’s pissed off snarl might as well be the equivalent of a record scratch.

“You heard me.” You find yourself rolling your eyes once again, not feeling the least bit sorry for it either.

But in all reality, you had no idea just how hard you were pushing him. Maybe if you knew, you would’ve quit while you were ahead.

“Duchess.” Comes Ari’s weary sigh as he jams his hands into his pockets, preventing himself from touching you. “You keep rollin’ those eyes at me and runnin’ that sassy little mouth of yours and I’m afraid we’re gonna have a problem.”

“Jesus Christ.” You sneer. “Why the fuck are you even still here, Ari?”

“Because we’re having a conversation. But in order for us to continue doing that, I’m gonna need you to settle down.”

“I will settle down when you get the hell out of my store.” Fuck, if there was ever a time when you could’ve used a cattle prod!

“And I’ll get the hell out of your store when I’ve finished making my point.” He responds, his nostrils flaring in frustration. “Now what’s all this business about you not wanting me to look at you? And who the fuck called you fat?”

All Ari needed from you was a name. He’d take care of the rest later.

“Argh!” You screech, your arms flailing wide. “You know what? Forget it! I’m done!” You slam the door to the fridge before attempting to shoulder past Ari.

Too bad your 6”4 Beast doesn’t seem all that keen on moving.

“Done with what?” He grits out, purposely holding you hostage.

“With you.” You hit back as steam practically pours out of your ears. “Us. And this entire godforsaken town. Now fucking move, Levinson.”

Again you attempt to get by him. And again he stops you, his spine stiffening in confusion. Because he wasn’t ready to let you go just yet.

“We’re not done, you and me. Not by a long shot.” His big hands go to gently frame your face, his thumbs smoothing over your cheeks. “But I do think I might have said something that upset you. And while I’m not sure what it was, I apologize. But we’re not done, baby.”

“You’re not in charge of me, of this.” You tell him, breaking his hold as you do your damnedest to ignore the trembling of your lower lip.

“Now that’s where you’re wrong. Especially given the fact that you were in my bed the night before last.” He flashes you a cocky smile as he slowly backs you towards the wall. “And you loved every minute of it.”

For some reason, Ari feels compelled to tack on the last part. Secretly hoping to get a rise out of you. And it works, but maybe not exactly in the way he intended.

“I had an itch. And you scratched it. It doesn’t make you special, Ari.” You hiss, ignoring the warning gleam in his eyes. “Any man would’ve worked, but I decided to bet on a stranger. Make things easier for myself.”

All lies. And you both knew it.

Unfazed, your bounty hunter continues to crowd you, using his hard, muscled body to box you in. And that’s when you remember that Ari Levinson had the ability to read people like a fucking book – you included.

Which meant this man had already pegged you for a runner the moment he met you. A fair assessment if there ever was one.

“I want you to look me in the eyes and say that shit again.” Ari growls the moment your back connects with the wall, his palms coming to brace themselves on either side of your head.

His message was clear. You were no longer in charge of the situation. Just like that.

“Let’s hear it, Bird.” The husky timbre of his voice washes over you, making your nipples pebble beneath the thin material of your shirt. “I mean, you’ve already gone and dug yourself in pretty deep with this shit.” And then the soft brush of his lips along the column of your throat has your world tilting on its axis. “But if you wanna keep going, I’ve got time.”

“I…” You croak, your mouth suddenly dry. Your eyes flutter closed when Ari begins to nibble his way along your jaw, sending your already thrumming pulse rocketing to new heights. “You can’t– I’m not…”

“C’mon and tell me I’m not your man, that you don’t want me in your bed anymore.” He presses his body against yours, moving his hips so that you can feel the outline of his denim-covered erection against your belly. “Tell me that you don’t need me to keep you in line. Need me to punish you, please you, and everything else in between…”

Your eyes fly open at his words, your core spasming. “Y–you can’t punish me.” You stammer, shivering as Ari’s lidded gaze darkens with lust. “I haven’t done anything wrong.”

“Now I’m afraid that’s where I beg to differ, sweetness.” Without warning, he sinks his teeth into the sweet spot where your neck meets your shoulder, sucking hard. You let out a sharp cry as your hands go to rest on his biceps.

But you don’t push him away, not even when he releases you to let his tongue lave over the small hurt.

Satisfied with his handiwork, he pulls back so that he can look you in the eye once again. “If you need a list of where you’ve gone wrong the last few days, I’m more than happy to give you one.” Ari’s nimble fingers find the front of your shorts, unsnapping them before you can blink. “Starting with your forgetting to call me last night.”

“I didn’t think it was that big a deal.” You confess on a whimper as he slips a dangerous hand inside your soaked panties. “Ooh! Or that you’d even really care if I didn’t.”

“Well, you thought wrong.” Ari cups your pussy, feeling immensely pleased when he discovers just how excited you are for him. “Contrary to what you might think, I don’t always talk just to make sounds. And I’d much rather hear your pretty little voice over my own. But when it comes to your safety, I do not play.” His grip tightens then, as he grinds the heel of his palm against your pulsing clit.

“O–okay. I’m sorry!” You arch your back, letting the sparks of white-hot pleasure run their course.

“Atta girl.” He praises, cutting off your next cry with a kiss so good it makes your toes curl. Ari takes his time devouring you, enjoying every single little moan and breathy sigh that slips past your lips. “Since I’ve got you listening so nicely, how about we see if you can follow a few simple instructions for me?” Mouth curving in a rakish grin, he removes his hand from your shorts and takes a step back.

And then he licks his palm, his eyes never once leaving yours as he savors the taste of all that sweet, sticky honey you’d left behind for him.

“Never get enough of you.” Ari groans, his apparent hunger for you only deepening the longer it takes for him to feed it. “Now turn around and face the wall. There you go, baby.”

Heart hammering in your chest, you move to comply and then ready yourself for his next command. While you weren’t exactly sure what happened to your earlier fire, you had a sneaking suspicion it had something to do with the renewed heat pooling in your belly.

Well, that and the wetness between your thighs.

“Next I want you to take off those damned shorts, followed by your panties. Bend over and pull ‘em down real slow.” Again, you move to comply only to halt when he adds something else you weren’t expecting. “But there’s a trick to this one. You still listening?"

Wordlessly you nod.

“Thought so. Now, I want you to pull ‘em down without bending your knees.” He rasps, his own hand going to squeeze his straining erection through his jeans. “I’m tellin’ you right now, I wanna see pink, baby. Your man wants to get a good, long look at that juicy pussy. Go on.”

You bend over, intending to do as he asks. But before you can get very far, you hear the sound of him unbuckling his belt. Immediately you pause, glancing at him curiously over your shoulder.

“Eyes front!” Ari barks, his hand connecting with your bare bottom with a sharp crack, making you yip. “Show me you know how to fucking follow my directions.” He lands another blow before giving you permission to continue.

This time you manage to do as he bids. And although you wish you could attempt to rub the sting out of your ass, you decide you’re better off simply leaving well enough alone.

Now you’re standing there, naked from the waist down. Your shorts and panties in a heap on the floor at your feet. Seriously, what was it about this man that always had your clothes coming off? Shit was starting to get annoying!

“Would you get a look at you?” Comes your Bounty Hunter’s husky purr. He trails the slightly roughened pads of his fingers along your still burning butt. “And I want to be clear about something. I love this ass, baby. And I would never disrespect it or you by calling you fat.” He lands another hard slap for good measure. “And I damn sure won’t tolerate you referring to yourself that way either.”

Ari would be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy seeing his handprint like this. In fact, if he had his way, you were going to be covered in his marks a lot more often from here on out. So you had better get used to it.

“Can I turn around now, please?” Your tiny voice somehow manages to sound both breathy and impatient at the same time.

“You must really want that fucking spanking I keep finding myself itching to give.” Ari growls, although this time there’s a teasing edge in his tone. “Go brace yourself on that little table for me, sweetness. I want those palms down flat and that luscious ass poked out. Now.”

Your jelly legs threaten to give out beneath you as you wobble over to the table, abandoning your clothes where they lay. Instead of complaining, you remind yourself to look at the bright side of things.

At least he hadn’t ripped your shit this time. Maybe your panties would actually make it out of this in one piece this time. A girl could only hope.

“You’re doing so well, little Bird.” Ari praises as he toes off his boots and shucks his pants, tossing them in the direction of your own discarded clothing. “We’re almost there. Stick that ass out for me, I want this image of you right here, all soft and sweet, embedded in my brain so I have something to remember the next time you decide to be a brat.”

“Yes, Sir.” You whisper, unprompted. Your quiet admission serves to confirm something that Ari had long since suspected to be true.

He needed to earn your submission. Prove he deserved it. And now you had his unspoken promise that he would. Every single day from here on out.

Soon, Ari’s pants are followed by his boxer and his shirt. Eventually he’s left standing stark naked and proud right there in your little shop’s kitchenette. His impressively thick cock stands at attention, a delicious bead of precum dotting the tip.

“Time for your reward, little Bird.” That’s all the warning he gives you. Gripping your hips with his big hands, he enters you with one hard thrust. You shoot up on your toes as your greedy pussy clenches around him.

“Fuck, Beast!” You whine, as Ari bottoms out inside you. But unlike your previous dalliances, he doesn’t give you time to adjust. Because he was still very much a man with a point to prove. “Oh God! Oh God! Please!”

And the only way he was convinced he was going to be able to ram that point home, is if you couldn’t walk straight by the time he was through.

“That’s right.” Ari snarls, showing you no mercy as he finds his rhythm. He sets a rough pace, drinking in every cry of pleasure as he works to stake his claim. “This pussy knows me, baby. And so does this body.” He bears down, loving the way you rise to meet him with each punishing thrust. “Say it. Tell me.” He orders, angling his hips in a way that allows him to go even deeper.

His heavy balls slap against your sopping wet core, the filthy sound of his primal claiming echoing throughout the empty room. You feel the coil tighten in your belly as your man pushes you closer and closer to the brink.

“I’m yours!” You cry as your vision begins to blur. Fuck you were getting close.

“Again.” Ari snarls, the harsh sound reverberating in his chest. He shifts his grip, allowing his muscled chest to press against your back.

“Ari, oh God! Fuck!Fuck!Fuuuuck!” This shit was too fucking much. Your knees practically threatening to buckle under the weight of the pleasure that is currently responsible for driving you insane.

“Either say it or I stop.” He warns, although his brutal pace never once falters. “Tell me what I wanna hear unless you want me to edge you for the next week.” That’s all you need to hear. Because what he just proposed sounded a hell of a lot like your worst nightmare.

“I’m yours!” You wail, as a tear tracks its way down your cheek. “Beast, I’m yours. Swear to God I am!” Satisfied, Ari then redoubles his efforts to reward you for being his good girl.

“Thank you, sweet Bird.” Comes his dark chuckle as he whispers a hot kiss along your damp brow. “Now was that really so hard?” Another kiss, this time as one of his hands sneaks around to play with your sensitive clit. “How about we see what else we can get you to finally admit to?”

That same coil pulls tighter, the invisible cord now dangerously close to snapping while your man busies himself with taking you apart piece by piece. And then his other hand fists itself in your curls, wrenching your head back to bestow a trail of scorching hot kisses along your throat. Leaving no doubt in your mind that he was about to thoroughly wreck you.

“And when we're through, baby, I'll even take you out for ice cream.”

END

2K notes · View notes

roosterforme · 6 months

Text

How You Play the Game Part 2 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: When Bradley doesn't hear from you after the first game, he thinks that's it. But you got his heart pounding and made him smile, and he wants to see you again. The realization that maybe something that perfect should be left as a one night stand hits him hard, but he wants to know if there could be more.

Warnings: Swearing, fluff, angst and smut (18+)

Length: 5600 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x female reader

Check out my masterlist for more! How You Play the Game masterlist. Banner by @thedroneranger

Bradley was laying in bed on Saturday morning with the New York times app open on his phone, scrolling to find your article. When his eyes settled on your name below the title, he tapped on it. The app took him to your full biography and a picture of you in front of Wrigley Field.

You even looked beautiful in your stock photo image. He was tempted to save it to his photo gallery, but instead he skimmed your bio. You'd lived all over the country and played every sport imaginable as a child. You had graduated first in your class from Syracuse University, and you were undefeated at sports trivia.

The smile on his lips grew as he read the article that you must have submitted before your deadline last night. Your writing style was fun and entertaining, and you had even mentioned the comment he made about the catcher for the Angels. Bradley groaned and tossed his phone aside. He wanted to see you again.

But as he got out of bed and headed for his bathroom, he reminded himself that last night had one night stand written all over it. You were in California for work. You both said that hooking up like that wasn't something you normally did. He was sure you just did it for a bit of fun. Bradley was an idiot for catching feelings after a few hours with you, but it felt like he already knew you. Talking to you in person felt like reading your articles, because your writing matched your personality so well. Witty, intelligent, funny and charming.

"Chill the fuck out," Bradley told himself in the bathroom mirror. "It's done."

Then he spent the day trying to think about anything that wasn't sports related. He even took a ten mile run up along the beach to kill some time. And when Nat asked him if he was going to the Hard Deck, he decided that would help.

But everyone there was wearing Padres gear and talking about that game one victory. And Bradley swallowed hard when he saw that Shannon was working behind the bar. He hadn't thought about her much recently, and she definitely hadn't crossed his mind at all when he'd been with you. But nevertheless, Bradley smiled when she greeted him.

"Hey, Rooster," she said with that grin that he was so used to. And she poured him a beer before he even asked for one. "You think you'll stick around for last call?"

He watched her hand as she slid the beer across the bartop. "I'll let you know?" he asked, barely able to meet her eyes.

"Sounds good. I'll start a tab for you."

He just nodded and turned to find the other aviators. Sleeping with Shannon tonight might help Bradley get you off his mind. But did he want to? He kind of liked the way warm thoughts of your voice and your smile kept bubbling to the surface. He could hear you asking him if he'd write back to a text from you. Honestly, he had been low key hoping you'd contact him today, and then he could have proven that he'd write back immediately, just like he promised.

But he'd heard nothing. No text. No call. You hadn't done anything with his phone number.

"What's your problem?" Nat asked, pinching his arm until he snapped out of it. "I asked you three times if you wanted to play pool with me."

"I'm not in the mood," he groaned, rubbing his arm as the TV screen caught his attention. They were playing World Series highlights and talking about tomorrow night's game.

"Why are you pouting?"

He rolled his eyes. "Nat, I'm not pouting."

"You are. Is this because Bagman is flirting with Shannon?"

Bradley glanced over his shoulder and saw that Nat was correct. Jake was leaning on the bar, trying his hardest to get Shannon to smile. "Nah. I told you, that's just casual. Doesn't mean anything." He sipped his beer.

"Well whatever is bothering you, either tell me about it or get over it, because I want to beat Javy and Reuben at pool for once."

Bradley closed his eyes and told her, "I met someone at the game last night."

"No!" she gasped. "Tell me everything."

After he hesitated for a beat, he pulled his phone out of his pocket and tapped on your name in the NYT app before handing it to her. He watched Nat as she skimmed the screen and examined your photo.

"Oh! You met her? Oh, shit....you hooked up with her!"

"Yeah," he grunted, glad that his best friend didn't need much help to figure out exactly what was going on with him. She never did.

"You like her! Why can I so easily picture you happily married to a sports writer? You could have six kids, and each one would play a different sport. One would play softball, one would be a kickass hockey player, one would play soccer, you'd probably have a ballerina-"

"Nat," he said, cutting her off with a laugh. "I'm not going to see her again. I gave her my number, but I haven't heard from her." He turned back to the bar to find that Shannon was alone again. Maybe it wouldn't hurt if he stayed until last call.

"Bradley. She's probably covering game two! You could go back to Petco Park tomorrow."

"Yeah," he grunted. "She's definitely covering game two. She told me she was. Right after I gave her my number which she hasn't used. It was just a hookup, Nat."

"I'll buy you a ticket," she said, fishing out her own phone. "An early Christmas present."

"Don't you dare. The resale price is up to almost a thousand bucks for the nosebleed seats."

She sighed and said, "Fine. But you should still think about going."

----------------------------

After you spent most of your weekend in your hotel room doing research and writing, you decided to take a few hours off on Sunday afternoon. And it was during this time, when you went for a walk through Balboa Park, that you let yourself accept the fact that you'd been working like a maniac all weekend to try to keep your mind off of Bradley.

Your hotel room smelled like his cologne or aftershave or maybe his laundry detergent. It was nice. Kind of comforting. You wanted to lay in bed with him until you smelled like it, too. But on Saturday morning, when you had thrown away the rogue condom wrapper, you decided it was better to throw away his phone number, too. You tried to rip that sheet out of your notebook since you no longer needed those stats, but you couldn't do it. Instead it was tucked away with your other work items, and you hoped you wouldn't cave and contact him.

After you took a shower, you grabbed your bag and your media pass and headed out early so you would have time to get some food when you got there. You liked that the ballparks usually served up local treats, and you'd get there in time to actually enjoy some fish tacos or a poke bowl tonight. You even thought about grabbing a local beer and drinking it on the main concourse before heading up to the box. You decided to go up and set down your computer and then find the beer cart.

But when you approached the narrow stairs that would take you up to the press box, you froze.

"Ace."

He was standing there, arms crossed and leaning against the wall, an earnest look on his handsome face.

"Bradley," you gasped as your heart thudded with excitement. "What are you doing here? Did you win another contest?"

"No," he said, shaking his head slowly. "I bought a ticket."

You knew the tickets were reselling at a premium price, and as he pushed away from the wall and dropped his arms to his sides, you asked, "Really? You're that much of a Padres fan?"

He shrugged and kind of shook his head, but your breath caught in your throat when he said, "You never texted me, Ace. I haven't stopped thinking about you for a single second, but you didn't text or call me."

He was close enough now that you could smell him, and you almost whimpered as your eyes fluttered closed. "You really wanted me to use your number?" you asked, meeting his eyes once again.

"Of course. That's why I wrote it down," he said, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. "Shit, I shouldn't have come here to see you." He was blushing profusely and looking at the floor. "You wanted that to be a one time thing, didn't you?" he asked, glancing up at your eyes with a slight grimace on his face.

Well now you weren't so sure. You thought he had just written his number down as a tactic. It wouldn't have been the first time you had a guy see how far he could get you to go while making you feel like you had some sort of safety net. Making you think he was really into you. But maybe Bradley actually was?

"Bradley, I-"

"I'm sorry," he muttered. "In an effort to not completely ruin the perfection of Friday night in my mind, I'm gonna go."

You watched him turn, and he made it about ten steps before you ran to him, reaching for his bicep. "Bradley, wait." When he stopped, you bumped into him, but he steadied you. You swallowed hard. He was so attractive, and you'd be lying if you said you hadn't thought about him all weekend. Inviting him back to your hotel room again had been a fun fantasy you'd indulged in since late Friday night. "Do you want to sit with me again? In the box?"

He looked surprised now. "Yeah."

"Okay." You linked your fingers with his and led him back to the stairs. He still looked a little tentative as you added, "Let's go."

When you used your card to open the door, you made it halfway up the stairs before you paused and turned to look at him. He was one step below you, and your height just about matched up with his. He still looked a little surprised, but there was a soft smile on his lips now, and you wrapped your fingers a little tighter around his.

"To be clear, did you buy a one thousand dollar ticket so you could stand at the bottom of these stairs and try to see me again tonight?"

"Yes," he said clearly and without hesitation. You shook your fingers free from his and wrapped both of your hands around the back of his neck before leaning in to kiss him. Your nose brushed along the side of his as you felt the prickle of his mustache against your skin. And then his hands were on your waist as he welcomed you into his arms. He parted his lips for you as you dragged your fingers up into his hair. Then he broke the kiss long enough to rasp, "I like you, Ace."

You kissed his lips once more before running your lips along his mustache. He squeezed your waist a little tighter as the door opened behind him. When you saw that it was Raya, another sports writer, you took Bradley by the hand again and led him all the way into the box.

"Don't get into any trouble today," you whispered, pushing him down into the same stool he had occupied on Friday night. "I got you in with my pass."

"I'll be so good," he promised, looking up at you with eyes far too innocent for the rest of his smirking face. And somehow you doubted it.

-------------------------

Bradley couldn't keep his hands off you as you worked. He kept finding ways to trace little circles along your back. The pace of game two seemed to be a lot faster as the Angels got into a better groove against the Padres, and you were frantically keeping your stats as you typed away.

"You want something else to eat?" he asked you between innings as you scribbled out some notes that he supposed must have made sense to you.

"Yes, please," you said, turning to smile at him. You watched Bradley stand, and he headed to the table lined with food. You seemed surprised that he had been sincere when he said he wanted you to text him. Yeah, he'd been joking around a little bit when he wrote his number down in your notebook, but he was kind of crushed when he hadn't heard from you.

When Bradley turned to take the food back to that little spot you and he were sharing in the last row, he saw the reporter in front of you turn around and start giving you a hard time.

"You gonna bring your boyfriend to each game, New York?"

Bradley wanted to punch this asshole in the face, because who even made comments like that? But instead he watched you sigh dramatically and say, "At least I can get laid, Quincy. You're such a hater. Now turn around, I'm busy."

But Bradley did shoot Quincy a glare for good measure, and he didn't take his eyes off him until he had turned around. "More food," Bradley told you, setting the plate down where you could reach it without it being in your way. Then he settled onto his stool and draped his arm across the back of yours while you picked at the food.

You kissed his cheek and whispered, "Thanks," just as the Padres hit a home run. Bradley desperately wanted to cheer, but nobody cheered in the press box, apparently. So he sat quietly while you updated your stat sheet and ate a taco.

"Which team do you cheer for, Ace?" he asked, and you looked up at him with wide eyes. "You know, when you're not working and allowed to cheer."

Your lips parted in silence before you pressed them together, and then you said, "I never tell anyone my favorite teams."

Bradley examined your face for a beat. "You want to tell me, don't you?"

"Oh my god," you moaned, head tipped back. "Yeah, I actually do."

As Bradley shook from the laughter he was trying to hold in, you leaned in close to him. "You can tell me," he said, grinning. "I'll keep your secret."

You let your palm come to rest on his abs before sliding it along to his waist as you pressed your lips to his ear. "You can't tell anyone. Ever."

The feel of your lips on him, about to divulge something so important to your career had him pulling you closer. You laughed softly as your lips bumped his ear, and Bradley stifled a moan.

"I won't say a word about it," he promised.

"My favorite team is the Toronto Blue Jays."

That was about to become Bradley's favorite team, too. Maybe he could go to a game with you when you were allowed to cheer.

"Do you know what their mascot is named?" you asked as you eased yourself back into your seat. When he shook his head, you picked up your pencil and wrote in the margin of your stat sheet.

Ace.

Bradley laughed again. You had him smiling or laughing nonstop right now, and he couldn't believe it was already the eighth inning. It was getting late in the game now, but you were still writing.

Do you want to come back to my hotel with me again?

And then he realized that this was the first time he'd thought about fucking you all day.

Bradley leaned in close and kissed your neck a few times before he said, "Only if you save my number in your phone." Because as much as he'd been thinking yesterday about how good it felt to have sex with you, he wanted to hear from you when it wasn't a game day. He wanted to keep talking to you.

During the break at the end of the inning, you pulled your phone out and made a show of flipping to the previous page in your notebook and entering his phone number into your contacts list. Then you turned your phone screen away from him and typed something out, and he just waited to feel his phone vibrate in his pocket. When he did, he looked at his messages and saw that you had sent him a photo of you with the Toronto Blue Jays mascot. And you captioned it with: Be honest, which Ace do you think is cuter?

He typed out to you, I'm not sure if you knew this, but I'm wildly attracted to blue feathers.

When you looked at your phone again, your laughter was loud enough to have Quincy turning around and earning another glare from Bradley. And just as the ninth inning started, you texted Bradley one more time. I hope you replaced your wallet condom, Boy Scout Bradley.

Truthfully, he had not. Getting lucky hadn't been his primary thought when he was just wanting to see you again. He muttered, "We're gonna need more than one, Ace."

And as your hand came to rest on his thigh, you tapped your lips with your pencil eraser. "I saw them for sale in the hotel lobby."

---------------------------

You couldn't remember feeling this way ever before. At least not with someone you barely knew. Bradley had your bag on his shoulder and he was practically carrying you across the parking lot as you laughed. You liked him a lot. He came back to see you again today. He was so funny and sweet, and you should have texted him on Saturday.

"You seem very eager," you whispered against his cheek as you kissed him at the crosswalk. You were running your hands all over his shoulders and dipping your hands inside his Padres jersey.

He picked you up to carry you across the street with the crowd of other pedestrians. "I'm hoping you'll show me your blue feathers tonight," he rasped, making you laugh even more.

"I knew you liked the other Ace better!"

He kissed your neck, and once he had you inside the hotel lobby, he said, "No, you're my favorite."

"Condoms," you whispered, pointing toward the small convenience shop next to the front desk. Bradley set you down and grabbed up all ten double packs of condoms and dumped them in front of the young guy who was working at the front desk.

"Is that all you needed, sir?"

Bradley pulled out his credit card and handed it to him, looking at you while he said, "Well no, that's not all I need." His gaze was openly needy as he looked at your face, lingering on your lips. You felt warm all over, and when Bradley had all twenty condoms in his hands again, you hooked your fingers though the belt loop of his jeans and pulled him toward the elevators.

"Let's go, Boy Scout."

Bradley groaned as the elevator door opened and you pulled him inside. He stood before you with your computer bag, so many packs of condoms and an erection that you could plainly see behind his zipper. You giggled and ran your thumbnail up and down his zipper as you said, "You're adorable."

He swallowed hard as you led him out on the top floor and down the corridor toward your room. "Ace? Baby?"

"Yeah?" you asked, unlocking the door as he stood behind you and let you feel him pressed to your lower back.

"Maybe you should finish writing your article first? I don't want you to get too close to your deadline again."

You opened the door and backed into the room, pulling him in with you. "No," you whispered before you kissed him hard. "I want you right now."

You grabbed one of the double packs of condoms from his hands, and he let the rest of them fall to the floor. The smile that you and he shared had your tummy doing somersaults as he gently set down your computer bag. You continued to back up slowly to the bed as he followed you. When you toed off your shoes, you watched him pause to pull his off as well. And then you were holding up the condoms and walking backwards across the bed on your knees until you reached the middle.

Bradley was frozen, just staring at you with a crooked smile on his face and his hands on his zipper. "I'm waiting," you whispered. And then you weren't waiting anymore at all, because Bradley was on top of you, wrapping his arms around you as his weight pushed you down into the bedding.

You moaned into his kisses as you ran your fingers through his hair. He already felt, smelled and sounded familiar to you. He tugged on your shirt until he was kissing you through your bra.

"You don't taste like beer today," he murmured against your skin, teasing you with his mustache.

"No, you managed not to spill," you replied, pulling your own shirt off as he unhooked your bra. His mouth was all over your breasts once he tossed your bra on the floor, and you were arching your back up against him. "You feel good."

He groaned into your skin while you felt him grind against your core through way too much fabric. "Ace." His hands were cupping your breasts as he let his lips drift down your belly until he was kissing along the top of your jeans. You unbuttoned and unzipped your pants and let him pull them down your legs. And then he was still fully clothed, giving you head just like two nights ago.

He was good at it, too. But when you started to touch your own breasts, he got distracted, lips grazing your clit as he watched you. When he lazily brought the pad of his thumb up along your slit and started teasing you, the sounds you made were so needy. You thought he could probably get you off like this if you wanted him to.

But you sat up and made quick work of his jersey buttons while he slipped his index finger inside you. "Bradley," you moaned softly as he kissed your neck and finger fucked you. He just seemed to want to make you feel good, and your hands stalled as you pushed his jersey down off both of his shoulders. Your palms came to rest on his warm biceps, and you could feel his arm muscles working as he fingered you.

"Tell me what you want, Ace," he grunted, stroking your clit with his thumb. He'd said that on Friday as well.

"I want you naked and inside me."

He let you undress him then, and you took his cock in both of your hands. You watched him roll onto his back as you teased him with your fingers, running your nails down along his thighs. The veins in his neck were strained, and his cheeks were flushed as his eyes darted from your face down to your hands and back up. He was glorious. Huge everywhere. Tan and muscular and perfect. So hard and eager to please.

When you straddled his hips and planted your hands on his shoulders, he pulled you to him, kissing your lips until you were laying flat on him. His length was gliding through your soaked pussy, and you moaned at the feel of him rubbing slowly against your clit. You mumbled his name, but he just kissed your lips harder, wrapping those big hands around your hips.

With each little movement of your hips grinding against him, you were closer to fucking him, so you gasped, "Condom."

"Mmhmm," he hummed, one big hand at the middle of your back while he reached blindly around the bedding in search of the small package. His lips were still soft and perfect on yours, unhurried as he handed you the condoms. You pressed your forehead to his as you fumbled trying to open one of them, and then you were sitting up between his legs, rolling it down his length, ready to go.

You guided yourself down around his cock, and he felt incredible, just like before. "Oh god," you whined softly, taking every inch of him while he grasped your thighs hard.

"So pretty," he whispered, watching you fucking him. Soon you were riding him fast and rough, bracing your hands on his abs. You couldn't even talk or formulate words as you whimpered, because he was hitting that sweet spot inside you. With every movement you were getting closer, and Bradley looked like he was struggling to keep it together.

You took his right hand, and brought it up to your mouth, sucking on his index and middle fingers to get them wet. "Baby, it feels too good," he groaned, shaking his head and squeezing his eyes shut. Then you guided his hand down to your clit, and you started cumming almost instantly. You held onto his wrist, rubbing your clit against his fingers with each stroke of your pussy along his cock.

Loud, incoherent noises filled the room as you came, riding him without finesse, head tipped back. And then Bradley was sitting up, right arm wrapped around your waist while he braced himself with his left palm on the bed. He whispered praise against your skin, pausing to kiss you as he thrust his hips up to fuck you as you came down from your high. "You're so hot. So good."

He sucked on your neck before his movements became jerky, and then he was chanting Ace! as he came too. He collapsed back against the bed with you held tightly to his chest, and you ran your fingers along his sweaty neck and up to stroke his jaw.

---------------------------------------

Bradley had nearly fallen asleep with your warm body draped over his and his soft cock still buried inside you. And then your phone alarm went off, and you were instantly scrambling to find your jeans amongst the pile of clothing on the floor.

"Shit," you muttered, glancing at him as you silenced your phone and checked the time. "I need to finish writing and submit my piece."

Bradley nodded and rolled onto his side and reached for a tissue to take care of the used condom. The last thing he wanted to do was go home now, but you had work to do, and he needed to be on base in the morning. He stood as you scooped his jersey up off the floor, but instead of handing it to him, you slipped it on. It fit you like a cute, little dress.

"My article is almost done," you murmured, retrieving your bag from near the door where he had set it down earlier. He smiled as you stepped around all the other packs of condoms. "I just need to add in my stats and proofread everything."

"Okay," he whispered, unwilling to break the spell that he felt like he was under when he was in your presence. "I can head out." He started to reach for his undershirt and boxer briefs, figuring you could just keep his jersey if you wanted to wear it.

But Bradley found himself wanting to ask if he could see you again. You saved his phone number this time, and while you were going up to Los Angeles for game three, he was hoping you'd be back in San Diego again. He was almost pissed now that the Padres were up two games to none in the World Series, because the more games that these two teams played, the longer you'd be in California. And LA was a hell of a lot closer to San Diego than New York City was.

As he held his clothes in his hand, you bit your lip and looked at him while your computer booted up. "You can stay. If you want?"

He froze, trying to process what you meant. "Stay?"

"Yeah," you whispered, taking him by the hand. "While I write."

He instantly dropped everything back to the floor as you pulled him to the desk chair. He sat down and then you sat on his naked thigh, entering your impressively long password and pulling up your mostly completed article. You flipped through your notebook to your stats sheet, and Bradley let his hand come to rest on your leg.

"You wanna help me?" you asked, typing away. "Tell me when Soto was on third."

Bradley skimmed the sheet and found the information. "Bottom of the sixth inning. Right before Grisham hit a double." He leaned in and kissed your neck as you murmured thanks.

"And when did Hill replace Darvish?"

Bradley read your sloppy notes and smiled. "Halfway through the seventh inning."

"Perfect," you whispered, and Bradley held you quietly as you scrolled to the top of your article and read it out loud. Your voice was captivating, and you somehow made the game he had seen in person even more interesting. He chuckled at the part where you mentioned how the Angels' coach had tripped coming out of the bullpen, and you smiled at him over your shoulder before you finished reading.

"Damn, Ace," he muttered as you saved it one last time and logged in to submit the article. "That was brilliant." Bradley was getting hard again. Some sort of combination of what you said and how you said it turned him on.

You closed your computer and laughed softly, nudging his erection with your knee as you turned in his arms. You glanced down at his cock, standing at attention for you, and Bradley could feel himself blushing. "Oh," you gasped, running your fingernails along his length as you grinned. "Eager again."

Bradley groaned and let his head tip back as you kissed his neck. "I think I'm always going to be eager for you. Talking about sports and wearing my Padres jersey are certainly helping."

Your laughter was his undoing as your lips met his warm cheek, and then Bradley watched your face as your pussy cradled his cock so that he was gently throbbing against your clit. "How many more condoms do we have?" you asked, fingers in his chest hair.

"Nineteen," he replied, voice deep and raspy with need.

"I'll be right back," you promised, kissing his lips before you stood and grabbed the unused condom from the bed. His jersey was open, offering him a peek here and there of your tits and belly as you moved. Then you were rolling this condom into place and straddling his hips on the chair.

Bradley pulled the jersey open wider so he could watch you sink around his cock. You felt like perfection, and the way your body looked as you took him was making him dizzy.

"You know," you sighed as he bottomed out inside you, "if the Angels start a different pitcher for game three, it could really throw off the Padres plans."

"Yeah?" he asked, stroking the soft skin of your waist as you rolled your hips. "Tell me more."

"Mmm, well, they've been following the same plan the whole season, right?" you asked, your lips grazing his as you spoke.

"Yeah, they have," Bradley agreed, already ridiculously close as you fed him this brand of dirty talk.

"I think they should try something new and start Hermans instead," you whined, kissing him hard as you rode him.

"Are you trying to turn me on right now, Ace?"

"Yeah," you gasped as you fucked him harder. "Is it working?"

"You know it is, Baby," he groaned, grinding his hips up to meet yours. "Fuck, you already know how to make me wild."

Then you were gasping out pitching stats, your voice breaking as you rode him so well. Bradley was barely keeping it together, and then your fingers were in his hair, tugging at the roots. He knew what to do now; he licked his fingers and brought them to your tight clit, and your eyes went wide.

"Yes!" you gasped, seemingly surprised that he had you cumming almost instantly. And the sight of your tits bouncing in his face was the last thing he saw before he sucked on your nipples and came hard.

His face was buried in the crook of your neck as his breathing evened out. He was trying to focus on your words, because they sounded very important. "If the Padres sweep the Angels, then I won't be back in San Diego. But if they go to a game six scenario, maybe we can see each other again?"

Yes, your words were very, very important. He wanted you to come back to San Diego, but he was determined to see you even if you didn't. "I could come up to LA. Get a ticket for game three. If you want."

You pulled away from him, and then Bradley was looking up into your surprised eyes. "Yeah?" you asked softly.

"Sure, Ace," he mumbled, running his knuckles along the soft valley between your breasts. "I'd love to. But it's up to you."

Your voice was soft. "Okay."

Then Bradley kissed your lips and said what was on his mind. "We should keep doing this. Me and you. Until the World Series ends. Until you have to leave California."

He could feel your pussy squeeze his soft cock as you started kissing him and running your fingers through his hair. And a few minutes later, he had you in your hotel room bed, snuggling up with your back pressed to the front of his body as you both fell asleep.

--------------------------

Bradley is out there dropping a cool grand just to try to verify if that was actually a one night stand or not. Thanks to @beyondthesefourwalls and @mak-32

PART 3

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